#stop saying he’s balding. please he’s suffered ENOUGH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yhwhsdaughter · 3 years

Text

Eunuch! Bum x Queen! Reader + King! Sangwoo

word count: 4.1k

tw: sangwoo, noncon, abuse of power, misogyny, murder, cheating, degradation, choking, cursing, minors dni

Ongoing…

[Chapter 2] , [Chapter 3]

Upon sliding the doors open, you were welcomed to blood spraying on your face. Droplets kissed your cheeks and if it was a calmer atmosphere, it would give the illusion of a blush. Reality, however, was much horrifying. Shocked by this, you stopped to assess the scene. Everyone was afraid to move a muscle as the king swung his sword, killing the chief state councilor with a stroke. As his body fell, more blood puddled at your feet, staining your slippers. Once the initial horror faded, you sprang forward, hugging Sangwoo’s midriff. “Your Majesty! Please stop this!” It was a brave or perhaps foolish action, interfering with your ruler. Words falling on deaf ears, he pushed you from him. The closest guard caught your form. Despite his absolute authority, killing nobles without reason, especially high ranking officers, was frowned on.

This is madness.

Your king was beauteous and cruel. A month into his ascension to the throne and he was already crumbling the ideals in which this nation was founded. Stray hairs hung around his chiseled face, tiny beads of sweat mixed with blood giving him a sadistic gleam as he grinned. Looking your way for a moment, he lazily waved at guards, “Take the Queen to her room.” Without a choice, the two of them gently nudged you from the scene. “Your Highness, please follow us.” Though their faces remained unmoving, their tone revealed their true feelings on the matter. Palm pressed against your mouth, you threw one last glance at the massacre before you. Blinking any lingering emotions, you walked away.

—

Pants filled the room as Sangwoo thrusted into you relentlessly. He was angry; even though he’d appointed new council members, he wasn’t sure he could trust them. In his mind, everyone was after his crown. You were angry as well, but for an entirely different reason.

You laid bare before your king, the fine robes that adorned your body pushed aside revealed your soft breasts; legs spread showed the path to your royal cunt. It disgusted you, thinking how many women had been in this bed, in your same position. Though the silk sheets were pristine, it could never truly wash away the sin. He grunted, “Stop overthinking. Just focus on—” he was close “—taking my seed, it’s all that matters.” Uncaring about your pleasure, Sangwoo bent you into an uncomfortable position, one that allowed his member to penetrate your walls at a deeper angle.

You allowed it.

The two of you, mostly you, were under incredible pressure to conceive. Not just a child, but a male heir. The fact that you hadn’t produced a son for the king was worrying to your mother. She wrote, often. It’s all she could talk about in her letters nowadays; there was fear in her that you would suffer as she did. Four miscarriages, three stillbirths, and then you. Highly superstitious, your mother believed that her misfortune was the price for the murder of the heirs by concubines in a fit of jealousy.

“Put a baby in me Sangwoo.”

You nearly begged, if only to end this. Making love wasn’t an option, nor your life a fairytale. No. King Sangwoo only fucked, and in the most inconvenient places too. You’ll never forget the embarrassment endured when you had tea with several noblewomen; your gracious king thought it would be appropriate to do it in a room adjacent to theirs. He bent you over a desk, throwing everything else off it, before sheathing himself inside of you. Emerging twenty minutes later, you couldn’t even look the ladies in the eyes. No one said anything, lest they lose their heads, but they knew.

Spurred by your words, Sangwoo thrusted faster and harder. “Fuuuck.” He stayed attached to you, like a dog, making sure your womb swallowed every last bit of his essence before pulling out. “Get pregnant.” Is all he said to you as he dressed again and exited the chambers. Out of breath and without a care, you laid there on the bed.

—

A life of servitude awaited YoonBum the second he was born. His poverty stricken parents sold him to be a household slave. Doomed to this fate, Bum tried his best to follow through and avoid punishments. Unfortunately, his master was a sadist and everyday, he received a beating.

After running errands, Bum stood in line to receive the bags of rice his master had ordered. It was the last thing on his list before readying to go home and continue working. Being close by, he couldn’t help but overhear several gentlemen talking, “Where is that damned village?!”

The village in question, it seems, was Bum’s hometown. Because it was a tiny place full of peasants and criminals, cartographers didn’t bother putting it on a map. Only those that came from there knew the area. Sangwoo caught him staring. Quickly glancing away, Bum only saw the man motioning to his companions from the corner of his eye. In a matter of seconds, he was facing the man. He was dressed in purple robes and a gat, symbolizing his status. “Do you know where this village is?”

Daring not to look him in the eye, Bum was slow to nod. He’d been out long enough; his master was probably marching towards the market to drag him home. “Show me.” As guessed, a heavy man came barreling in their direction. He was red in the face. “Bum!” Master Yoon screamed obscenities. Coming to a stop, he sneered at the men.

“We need your servant.”

Though the statement seemed like a request, Sangwoo’s tone made it clear that it was an order. The balding man huffed, ready to curse him out and refuse when Sangwoo showed his name tag. It was made of a cool stone, Oh Sangwoo engraved with the royal crest. The fact that was once red turned pale in realization. Meek before his ruler, Mister Yoon had no choice but to relent. “We’ll be taking him then.”

Bum felt his humanity slip away as he was given to another man so easily. With his head bowed down, he followed this strange new path forged by the man in purple robes.

—

The Heavens decided to smile on YoonBum when he saved the king’s life.

It was an accident, really. The guards felt no threat to the approaching figure in the form of a frail, old lady who was an assassin in disguise. YoonBum saw the knife before they did, jumping in front of Sangwoo.

Adrenaline in his system, Bum didn’t realize he was stabbed till he felt warmth seeping through his rags. Looking down, red spread around the area. It hurt. Badly. Bum’s legs felt like noodles; the little energy he had left his body as he collapsed onto the dirt. Even breathing was painful. His intervention set things in motion. One of the bodyguards chased down the assassin, two stood by Sangwoo and another leant down to help him. He must’ve asked something important but Bum couldn’t hear him clearly. It’s like he was submerged underwater. The last thing he saw before his vision turned black, was Sangwoo staring at him with interest.

He woke up in the nicest room he’s ever been.

The king didn’t visit him personally but he was sent a letter. Red overtook his face as he was forced to admit he didn’t know how to read. The servant relayed the contents, stating that when he was recovered, he would serve the king closely. From someone of his birth, it was the best he could get. YoonBum suddenly felt immensely grateful; he would no longer sleep in a shed with the pigs but a real mat! The pain on his side reminded him of the price he’d paid for this position, but he was used to being hurt. At least now it served to help him.

As the moment of glee passed, Bum realized he didn’t quite know the etiquette of serving the king. Joy left his body as he wondered how he would figure it out.

Like him, Sangwoo was plagued by this constant state of unhappiness. After the attempt on his life, he would think his subjects would be glad to see him breathing but instead he got murmurs of concern. What if he’d died? Who would’ve taken the throne since there was no heir? It would’ve thrown the palace into chaos.

Their silent pleas did not go unheard. “Maybe I should have them killed. Them and their entire families—” he paused when he saw you in the gardens, smiling at one of your ladies. His heart twisted. Sangwoo couldn’t explain it, but he always got the urge to inflict pain on you. He could say it stemmed from a place of resentment. How hard was it to get pregnant? If you gave him a son, he wouldn’t be pestered by these old fucks. Not to mention, your face contorting in distress was intoxicating—not even the concubines could compete with that.

Beneath his robes, his cock twitched with excitement. Oh, how he was going to enjoy this. Approaching your unsuspecting figure, he threw a dazzling smile to your courtesans. Sangwoo knew how to use his assets advantageously. Despite the suffering he caused, people were rendered speechless by his charm and good-looks.

He was like a snake, slithering towards his prey, waiting to attack. You did not hear him coming till you saw your ladies-in-waiting bowing. Greeting him appropriately, you expressed your relief. “Your Highness, I am glad to see you unharmed.”

It’d been a while since you last saw him; when he arrived, the rumour about the assassin spread like wildfire. “My Queen, you are truly a vision. These flowers have nothing on your beauty. You are proof that absence makes the heart grow fonder.” His honeyed words felt like prodding the bees’ nest. If you weren’t careful, you would be stung.

The only times he was this affectionate was when he wanted something. He played the same lovestruck role with your father to convince him of marrying you. Sending your ladies off, Sangwoo dropped his smile. His expression was replaced with desperation. Pulling on your wrist, the two of you traversed to your quarters since they were closer. “Ah!” Thrown harshly onto the bed, you hardly had time to compose yourself before he was mounting you. “Let’s put your cursed womb to good use.” A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you without warning. Your hands formed to fists, grabbing onto the sheets for dear life. It hurts, it hurts!

“Your Majesty! Please— aaah! Be more gentle..!”

Without seeing his face, you could already picture his cruel smirk. “You were born a disappointment. The least you could do is serve your purpose as my wife and bear me an heir.” His words angered you. Managing to twist away, you tried to escape his iron grip. This only resulted in you being pushed onto your back. Sangwoo pried your legs open and realigned himself.

Slap!

Sangwoo’s eyes widened with disbelief. The stinging in his cheek somehow made his pulse beat faster. Hands wrapping around your throat, he squeezed. “You should treat your king with more reverence. It would be a shame if the nation lost its queen. Especially one who can be easily replaced.” Having been the youngest war general, Sangwoo had strength to spare. Your hands seemed small as they banged on his form, silently begging to release you.

Having your life in his hands gave him the edge he needed to cum. With a low moan, Sangwoo emptied himself inside you. In turn, you couldn’t even focus on anything else other than breathing, choking as you gasped for air that you’d previously been deprived of. Knowing that he was capable of committing the worst, death seemed better than staying by his side.

“Perhaps I am not the problem, Your Majesty.”

Your voice was raspy but it rang clear across his majesty’s mind. Your words struck deep, like a knife embedded in his brain. It created a wound that would eventually fester. “Shut up.”

As if to disprove your point, he visited every concubine, not leaving until none of them were left untouched. He needed a son, one way or another, and if you wouldn’t give it to him, he would seek it elsewhere.

—

YoonBum was mostly healed; if anything, it appeared he’d been forgotten after a week of rest. The medic was currently tending to his wound, “It's healing nicely. A few more days and you should be out of here.”

The two of them turned at the sound of the door sliding open, immediately bowing at Her Highness’ entrance.

“Your Majesty, how can I be of use?” It was a bit surprising to see you there; your medical checkup wasn’t till another month. He wondered if you were feeling ill. Fabric wrapped around your neck; the weather was tepid, even inside the palace. That’s when he noticed the purple marks that peeked from under the material. Aware of his pointed stare, you moved the scarf upwards to conceal it. “I need you to acquire these medicinal herbs for me.” Taking the list, he read it carefully. How odd. Before he could ask what they were for, you added, “Your discretion would be appreciated.”

“Of course.”

Bum sat there silently, head facing the floor when you acknowledged him. “Are you the man that saved my husband?” Snapping upwards, he sputtered before letting out a quick “Yes!” Finally having a chance to gaze at your face, Bum felt himself turning red. Dressed in the finest silks from head to toe, standing with an air of regalness, was you. Unlike the king, there was warmth in you. Being in the presence of such a being felt unreal.

At first glance, the young man seemed no different than the other servants. However, his pink cheeks reminded you of innocence that one so rarely saw in the palace, which was filled with betrayal and resentment. His disposition was kind of endearing. You hoped he would remain like this, untainted by the world. “Then I must thank you.”

At your words, Bum’s figure lowered, forehead touching the wood. “Y-your Highness is too kind!” This position caused him a stab of discomfort, applying pressure to his wound yet he refused to straighten up. Noticing, you motioned at him, “Don’t force yourself.”

With that brief interaction, you were gone.

Entering your chambers, you signaled for the maid. Unwrapping the silk bandages, you stared at the mirror. Your husband’s marks served as a reminder of who held the power in this union. The young woman kneeled before you, taking a round brush and rolling it in powder. Although her ministrations were gentle, you couldn’t help but hiss when it applied pressure to your tender skin. “Forgive this servant, Your Majesty!”

“Don’t mind it. Continue.”

—

The king was anxious.

It was one thing for you to not get pregnant, but he’d been keeping busy and there was still no news of concubines with child. Reminded and bothered by your words, he summoned the royal physician. Sangwoo believed he wasn’t the problem, he just needed confirmation. What did you know? He wanted an expert to say that he was fulfilling his duties as king and it was everybody else that lacked.

“I’m sorry to say this, Your Highness.. but you’re infertile.”

With great effort, Sangwoo stopped himself from strangulating the doctor. It was impossible. A frown etched itself in Sangwoo’s face, his handsome features twisting into something scary. “You’re wrong.” It didn’t make sense; as a healthy male in his prime, Sangwoo shouldn’t have a problem fathering as many children as he could. There were several causes that may have caused his infertility, especially since he was a war general but the fact remained that he could not produce children.

Only an heir of royal blood could be king.

He forced the poor man to do every test available to ensure this. The result was the same. Again. And again. “You must not be doing your job right.” As the guards dragged the pleading man, a piece of paper fell from the medics’ robes during the struggle. Picking it up, Sangwoo recognized your handwriting.

“What’s this?”

There was temporary relief in the man’s face as Sangwoo stopped in front of him. “That.. the Queen requested a few me-medicinal herbs.” It didn’t sit right with Sangwoo. Why on earth would you need this shit? The physician seemed hesitant to answer his question. A rough push finally ushered him to say, “Alone these herbs are fine, but mixed..”

As requested, the herbs were delivered to you by the doctor’s assistant. The timing was perfect too. “Why didn’t your master deliver these himself?” Nervous, the boy stuttered a few excuses before asking for permission to leave. That should’ve raised flags in your head but you wanted the plan to work. You needed it to work.

The king had finally taken time out of his busy schedule to visit you, and not just to copulate. He was kind enough to accept your invitation to have a picnic at the pavilion. It was surrounded by a grand lake and vividly green trees; a true landscape.

Sangwoo arrived with a familiar man at his side. You realized you never asked for his name, though that was easily fixed when Sangwoo made a vague motion towards him. “That’s Bum.” He was dressed in green and Sangwoo in red. In comparison to their bright colors, you wore a soft pastel pink, denoting your sophisticated features.

Sitting down, you signaled the servant to begin pouring the soup. Sangwoo raised a brow, curious, “You’re not going to eat?” Listening to your response, a smile appeared on his face. “I wanted to make a special meal for Your Highness, from the bottom of my heart.” It was unnerving, the way he looked at you. Still, you never lost composure, waiting patiently for him. That is, until he asked Bum to lean down and try it. Obedient, the male did so without question. Eyes widening, you managed to stop Bum from tasting. Your hand held onto his wrist tightly—the spoon hovering centimeters from his lips. A few droplets spilled onto the wooden table. Sangwoo tilted his head to the side, innocent expression in tow. “Something wrong?”

Everything is wrong!

Sangwoo knew. You didn’t know how, but of this, you were sure. Fear is what he wanted and you weren’t going to give it to him. “This meat in this broth was especially prepared for His Royal Highness. It shouldn’t go to waste on someone else.” The tip of Bum’s ears burned from embarrassment. He was under the impression you were a benevolent queen; instead, he was reminded of his lowly status. Of course he couldn’t eat the expensive meat, a peasant like him wouldn’t know how to appreciate the flavor. The hurt on his face was evident but he turned to the king, awaiting further instructions. Sangwoo wasn’t fazed, “Don’t be silly.”

Taking the spoon, Sangwoo offered it to you.

You stared at it, unmoving. Sangwoo poked your lips, “Who else but the Queen would be worthy to try such delicacy?” He was baiting you, daring you to deny or confess. Neither was an option. Grabbing the spoon from him, you slowly opened your mouth and dropped the contents inside. Sangwoo’s eyes narrowed slightly but he said nothing. “Swallow.” Damn him to hell. Before you could do such a thing, a guard interrupted. Apparently there were news concerning Yang Seungbae, a traitor to the crown; he was spotted near a town on the outskirts of the forest.

Sangwoo hated him. More than anyone. That bastard was working hard to rally forces that would conspire against him. While things were peaceful at court, Sangwoo had felt a shift ever since the assassination attempt. His eye twitched in annoyance, though you weren’t entirely positive if it was because of Seungbae or the fact that he’d been interrupted. Sitting completely still, you watched as Sangwoo whispered to Bum before leaving. As soon as he was gone, you grabbed a handkerchief and spit out the soup. This action worries a few servants but you waved them off. “It’s cold.” They couldn’t understand as you ordered them to throw it, seeing as it was perfectly edible. Such a waste, disposing of such good meat.

Bum followed you like a lost puppy. The first night Sangwoo bedded him, YoonBum experienced true love. It wasn’t gentle; the king’s touch harbored no hatred but passion. Bum had never felt like that. It made him feel special; the ruler of the country placed his lips and strong hands on his skinny body. He had a queen, concubines, and still, he went to him. Elated couldn’t begin to describe how Bum felt. His feelings for his king were all-consuming. Since then, he’d made a promise to follow every order Sangwoo asked of him. Bum didn’t have anything against you, truly, but his loyalty laid with his king.

On their way back, they encountered Imperial Concubine Min Jieun. The crowd following her greeted you respectfully, and while she did so too, there was a triumphant smirk on her face. Nodding in acknowledgment, you continued walking, enjoying nature. The sun warmed your skin, making you forget about any worries, if only for a moment. Once the group was out of earshot, you glanced at your companion. “What was that about?” It was no secret how spoiled Min Jieun was; she was a woman of noble birth, groomed to perfection. That’s the facade she chose to wear instead of the power hungry bitch she was. Envy burned in every particle of her body. She wanted you out of the picture—she wanted to be queen and mother of Sangwoo’s children. Still, your position commanded respect. Your lady leaned in, whispering, “There’s rumors that she’s with child.”

“Oh.”

Bum watched your composed reaction with intrigue. He could understand if you held a grudge towards her. He did. You would always be first to the king, so he had to accept that. Bum knew it was the way things ran. However, he couldn’t say the same for the other concubines. They had the chance to bear Sangwoo’s child. Bum only wished he could do so too. Alas, this resentment made him feel guilty because the concubines were amicable women—well, except Min Jieun. He didn’t realize that they were shackled to this restrictive lifestyle; that they had no choice but to make the best of the situation.

“Is there something you want to say?”

Almost jumping at the sudden sound of your voice, Bum gazed around to see who you were talking to. Finding your clear eyes on him, he realized you’d seen through him. “Uh.. n-no, Your Majesty..”

“Say it.”

“How.. how does Your Majesty handle it?”

Though the question itself was vague, you got the gist. “Queens are expected to rise above such earthly emotions.” You had a solemn expression and the grip around your fan tightened, “Jealousy is futile.”

Nodding, Bum felt like he’d swallowed vinegar. This revelation left him in deep thought. Perhaps that was the difference between royals and peasants; possessiveness was quick to overtake him while you had to live with the knowledge that your husband would seek the company of others.

Hm, maybe he was right not to envy you.

—

“The Queen has fallen ill.”

It was so sudden; you were so healthy one day and the next, chills racked your body, fever uncontrollable. The court tried to be positive on the matter but it wasn’t looking good. Sangwoo was advised to refrain from visiting you—if he got sick too, it would affect the entire nation. “I will see my wife as I see fit.”

“Open the door and step aside.”

He was like an angel of death, entering with eerie calmness. Even through the soft curtains he could see your weakened form. You looked thinner, unable to eat. The physicians tried to get you to consume anything but it was just regurgitated in minutes.

The bed dipped under his weight as he sat next to you.

“Did you eat something bad?” He caressed your face, pushing hairs away that stuck due to the sweat. Fingers tightening on the blankets, you managed to open your mouth. “Congratulations.” Lips pale and cracked, you smiled sardonically. Sangwoo wasn’t expecting that reaction. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve heard news that Concubine Jieun is pregnant.”

A dark look crossed his face. “Is that so?” He stood, “Perhaps I should pay her a visit.” Though his tone was mocking, there was something bothering Sangwoo. Fortunately for the king, you were too woozy to think straight. Leaning down, Sangwoo placed a hand behind your neck, lifting you just a bit, enough to kiss your lips.

“Don’t die.”

#oh sangwoo #sangwoo x yoonbum #sangwoo x reader #sangwoo #yoonbum x you #yoonbum x y/n #yoonbum x reader #killing stalking yoonbum #killing stalking #ks yoonbum #ks sangwoo #yang seungbae #king x reader

577 notes · View notes

gingersnaaps · 3 years

Text

eat your fill

in which osamu prepares the most delicious of meals <3

wc: 3k

tw/tags(READ ALL PLS): n*fw, cunnilingus + penetration, workplace harassment, cannibalism, gore, blood, murder/death, dw both reader and osamu are alive and well by the end it's your harasser that suffers, afab fem reader, timeskip!osamu

a/n: finally found a way to merge my love of hannibal with haikyuu lol. not proofread as always <3

i don’t want minors interacting with my content. don't like dark content? don't click the read more

“So this is your boyfriend, huh?”

A middle-aged man stands next to the two of you, his hair slightly balding at the temples, a prominent vein pulsing on his neck. There’s a sleazy smirk on his face, a taunt etched into the slight arch of his brow: So this is your fuckbuddy, huh?

You smile thinly. “Please, Ito-san. Miya’s just a friend of mine.”

A look of faint disbelief flashes across his face, and Osamu can already feel the red-hot anger bubbling beneath the surface. He hates douchebags like this, hates assholes who insert themselves where they don’t belong, hates rude people who never know when to shut up.

Ito-san, was it? He’ll keep that in mind.

“Well, I was just gonna tell him to hold on tight. Pretty things like you can be hard to come by nowadays,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. When he turns around to leave, he flashes Osamu one last unmistakably hostile look. “It seems I misinterpreted the situation, unfortunately.”

As soon as he saunters back into the office, the tension in your shoulders begins to melt away. “Sorry about that, ‘Samu. My boss can be a lot sometimes.”

Truth be told, he’s furious. But his anger isn’t something that threatens to spill over, to explode, to make a mess as he throws a fit over your boss’ bad behaviour; it’s a calm, cold undercurrent of rage, spreading like ice in his veins, noticeable only through the slight tensing of his fists and the rigid set of his shoulders.

Other than that, he seems completely unaffected.

“That’s one way to put it,” he says, frowning slightly. “Although I am a little hurt. ‘Just friends’? Really?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “With benefits, of course. Couldn’t exactly say that to his face, though.”

Of course you couldn’t. Osamu’s not stupid, nor is he blind. If you’d even hinted at him being anything more than a friend, your boss’ mind would probably be overrun with disgusting fantasies and inappropriate thoughts, going by the way he leers at you on a daily basis. He’s well aware of the way that others like to stare at you.

“Enough about him,” he says, waving his hand. His eyes are still unreadable, the grey as calm and smooth as stone. “Let’s head out.”

You nod hesitantly. “Right.”

“My place or yours?”

When you tilt your head to look at him again, your gaze is half-lidded and a little sly. You find his hand, tangling your fingers together, and squeeze tightly.

“Yours, of course.”

The drive back to Osamu’s apartment is quiet. The orange glare of the street lamps light the roads with a warm, murky glow, a sea of artificial lights that stretch through the expanse of the city. You can barely make out the sharp lines of his face in the dark of the car.

“When we get home,” he murmurs, rolling to a stop at a traffic light. “I want you to go to the bedroom and strip for me.”

You shiver slightly at the commanding tone in his voice. “I can do that.”

He makes a turn onto a less well-lit street, and he seems to sink into the darkness that envelopes the car. He turns his head to stare at you, and there’s an unmistakable hunger, a need to devour you whole, flashing in the glint of his eyes.

“Good.”

His fingers are deft and skillful, unclasping your bra strap the minute you throw your shirt on the chair in his bedroom. They dance on the surface of your skin, light and playful, sending goosebumps prickling everywhere he touches. It’s as if he’s searching for something, ten fingers working in tandem to probe out where you’re most sensitive, to tease your back into arching, to draw out gasps and stutters, to leave you squeezing your legs together as arousal burns in your cunt.

He shoves a pillow roughly beneath your head, propping you up at a more comfortable angle, and pushes your legs apart. His pupils are blown wide with need as he takes in the sight of you all spread out and open.

“I’ve been dying for a taste all day,” he breathes, spreading the lips of your cunt apart with his fingers. “I’ve been starving.”

He leans down and blows gently on your slick, shiny pussy, the cool air sending a shudder down your spine. You’re so pretty, all sensitive and shivering, face flushed with warmth as you avert your eyes from his gaze looking up between your legs.

He holds you still with his warm hands, the large palms gripping firmly at both of your thighs. Your flesh spills from in between his fingers so, so deliciously, and he can feel your muscles tensing beneath his touch as he dips his tongue down and flicks it along your slit.

You whine at the stimulation, mouth falling open with the prettiest cries as he drags the flat of his tongue across your pussy, pressing down firmly when he reaches your clit; it’s impossibly slow, and the rhythm he sets is almost cruel.

“Hurry up, ‘Samu,” you hiss, bucking your hips into his warm, waiting mouth. “Don’t tease.”

He slows almost to a complete stop, tongue resting lightly on the surface of your cunt. You want to squeeze your legs together so badly, but his hands keep you firmly in place - and there’s not a chance you’re stronger than him in this state. He doesn’t say anything in response, but there’s a silent challenge in the amused grin on his face: What are you gonna do about it?

Ever since he’d first laid eyes on you, Osamu’s always felt weirdly… possessive. That’s the best way to put it, because how else would he describe the need to always have you within arms reach, to protect you from the prying eyes and eager touches of other men, to fuck you until you’re incapable of thought - until you’re clinging onto his arm like a precious little doll?

He’s selfish when it comes to you.

You’re warm and slightly salty on his tongue, and he decides that you taste too good to hold off for long. He slides his tongue back between your folds, this time circling your clit, humming with satisfaction as your legs begin to shake with every deft stroke of his tongue.

There’s an ache of pleasure that starts to build inside your pussy, and it sends warmth shooting through your core. “Osamu,” you gasp, gritting your teeth. “I’m close.”

He pushes two fingers inside your slippery entrance, pumping them in and out as you moan lewdly, and curls them up into your g-spot right as he swirls his tongue around your swollen clit -

You’re creaming into his mouth, hips shaking as he fingers you through your orgasm, pressing at the sensitive spots that make you squeal; he’s lapping up every last drop that leaks from your twitching, tired cunt.

When he pulls away, your juices are dripping down his chin. “Thanks for the meal,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“No problem,” you slur, grinning widely. “But I wan’… want you inside me, too.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Want my cock inside?”

You nod eagerly, tugging at his shirt, and he feels his cock begin to strain against his pants. He’s fucked you before, but the thought of you squirming beneath him right now - his gut twists with anticipation.

You wrap a hand around his neck, pulling his head down until his face is right next to yours. He tastes sweet. The kiss feels heady, like you’re dizzy or drunk, and the world around you starts to fade at the edges as he melts into your embrace.

Osamu takes out his cock, pretty and dark and glistening with precum, and slides it along the slippery folds of your cunt. He pauses for a moment with the head resting at your entrance, savoring the image of you with your eyes squeezed shut and mouth slightly open; you’re absolutely radiant, a sheen of sweat on the surface of your skin, a perfect picture of warmth and life and vitality.

He can feel your heartbeat thrumming in your pussy, beneath his fingertips, the steady rhythm comforting and yet so fragile - you’re like one of those porcelain dolls, but with blood and bones rushing beneath the surface, covered in nothing but a paper-thin layer of skin. Humans are so easy to bend and even easier to break, offering up their vulnerability with the confidence of something invincible.

You tilt your head back, exposing the column of your neck, and he runs a finger along the vein that pulses at the side.

He thrusts into you with one smooth stroke, pushing it past the tight grip of your perfect cunt, brushing against your g-spot, sliding deeper and deeper, groaning with pleasure as the hot, drooling mess between your legs envelopes his cock. You can feel him throbbing and twitching inside of you, his fingers digging half-moon crescents into your skin; it hurts, sure, pain searing wherever his scorching touch goes, but it’s just as satisfying to feel pain and pleasure winding tight in your core.

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling his cock half out and thrusting it in again. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

There’s something about you that makes him want to lose control, that flings him a little closer to the fine line between sane and crazy. Each slam of his hips against yours leaves bruises blooming sore and tender; each steady, powerful thrust bottoms out against your aching cervix.

He fucks you relentlessly, cock pumping in and out with an almost manic intensity, pounding you into the mattress until you're writhing and gasping. Each slide of his cock inside your dripping cunt leaves it clenched with arousal, and it’s not long before your legs start to shake and falter.

“Close,” you moan, pawing at his chest. “Don’t… don’t stop.”

As if he’s cruel enough to say no to you.

The pressure wound tight inside your core suddenly snaps, and you tumble over the edge, an orgasm ripping through your body. The sudden squeeze of your pussy around his sensitive cock is enough to rip a soft, low moan from his chest, the vibrations humming from his body into yours.

He pulls out, smearing the thick spurts of cum onto your tummy and thighs, eyes half-lidded as he takes you in. It’s as if he’s marked you, claimed you, the shiny glaze of cum on your skin so pretty as it gleams beneath the dim moonlight pooling on the bed.

“Stay here,” he whispers, brushing a lock of hair out of your face.

He wants you at his side, chest gently rising and falling, nestled neatly in his embrace - not just tonight, but for as long as possible.

For forever.

It’s a shame that being the owner of a restaurant means he can’t exactly call in sick, because he spends almost all of the next day with a mean headache. He serves customer after customer with the same blank expression, content to dump their food in front of them and collect the bill with as little talking as possible.

He winces. As good as the sex last night was, perhaps he should’ve stopped at giving you head. Four hours of sleep - it’s not ideal. Unfortunately, his day is far from over, even as the last customer walks out the front door.

There’s still one more thing he has to take care of.

He putters around his shop for a few minutes after closing time, cleaning up his counters and wiping down the tables before heading to the storage room in the back. Giant freezers and refrigerators line the walls, meat hooks hanging empty in the back corner of the room, and there are dozens of shelves stuffed full of rice and dried goods.

He walks over to the biggest fridge and opens its doors cautiously. He frowns. He’s got enough loin and plenty of ham, but he’s missing ribs. There’s also a conspicuous lack of organs - no heart, no liver, no lung.

These aren’t ingredients that could be restocked with a trip to the grocery store, but he’ll be replenishing the fridge soon enough anyway.

He turns to look at the man strapped down to the table in the middle of the room.

“Hello, Ito-san,” he spits, voice cold as ice. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Maybe some would call this an overreaction, but Osamu sees it as more of a creative solution. He’s running low on his favorite cut of meat; there’s a guy harassing you at work. Why not kill two birds with one stone?

He assesses the tools spread out in front of him, gleaming so prettily under the fluorescent lights, and picks out a scalpel with a curved tip. It’s sharp enough to cut through flesh as if it were butter, precise enough to carve exactly where he wants to.

As he makes his way over to the table, he can hear the quiet, muffled whimpers of your former boss. There are red marks, angry and irritated, blooming around the bindings on his wrists and ankles. He’s been struggling, Osamu notes idly.

He pauses with the blade of his knife hovering millimeters above his trembling chest, and allows himself a small bit of satisfaction as he takes in the fear etched into the lines on his face.

“Maybe you should try a more respectful approach next time,” he says, the barest hint of amusement on his face.

He gargles something incomprehensible, face turning red. Osamu can’t make out the exact words, but he’s pretty sure it’s a string of curses directed at him.

“Save your breath,” he mutters.

He presses down with the scalpel right between the ribs, an odd sense of calm washing over him as blood begins to ooze and bubble through the cotton of his shirt. It’s not that different from dissecting any other animal - muscle, joints, bones, ligaments - it’s all the same, once you peel back the layers of skin on the surface.

He works quickly and efficiently. The screams from the man below him fall upon deaf ears, fading into the background as he takes him apart limb by limb, laying out the cuts of meat neatly beside the scarlet-soaked man. The stark white of his bones glint amid the mess of tattered flesh.

It’s not too long before the thrashing turns into twitching, and the twitching turns into stillness.

Ito-san’s body lies motionless on the table, a whole slowly being reduced to parts and pieces. An organ here, a finger there - Osamu packages every last bit neatly with his sheets of butcher paper, tossing them into the fridge or the freezer.

When he steps away, just half an hour later, there’s nothing left on the table anymore save for a pile of bones. He doesn’t like to be wasteful.

One of the many things he’s learned about the food service industry: Fresh ingredients - truly fresh ingredients - are hard to come by. Unless your restaurant is located beside a farm, there’s a good chance half of the stuff that you use has been frozen at some point or another. And Osamu? He doesn’t like settling for the mediocre, which means that he has to source the meat he uses himself.

A bit of an inconvenience, he thinks, tossing the remains of your former boss into a black trash bag, but if it means protecting you in the process, it’s more than worth it. He thinks back to your sweet smile, your soft skin, your pretty face and absolutely delicious thighs - he’d do anything to keep you.

Absolutely anything.

He wipes the last of the blood on his fingers on a towel nearby, and picks up his phone. He finds your contact information, swiping up, and types out a quick message:

Stop by my shop tomorrow, and I’ll make you something special.

He wonders what you’ll think of the meal he plans on serving.

The sun is setting behind you when you push open the heavy glass door to his shop. It scatters the rays of pale light bleeding from a lilac sky, your stretched-out shadow twisting back and forth on the ground in front of you.

You’re in a good mood.

Your boss hadn’t shown up to work today, surprisingly, and you’d spent almost the entire day in peace. A rare occasion. He hadn’t told you about any plans to take the day off, but you aren’t particularly curious as to why he was missing. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that, right?

You swing yourself up onto a stool in front of the counter, just a few feet away from Osamu. He’s humming quietly, a pleasant tune reverberating in his chest, milling back and forth between the cash register and the pile of leftover ingredients scattered around his work area. He notices you as soon as you wave at him, eyes lighting up.

“Hey,” he says, smiling. “You came.”

“Of course I did. You promised food, after all.”

“I should’ve known,” he replies, shaking his head in mock disappointment. He reaches to his left for a bowl of steaming katsu curry, and places it in front of you. “But I’m a man of my word. Try it out.”

As he watches you shovel pieces of your former boss into your mouth, he almost wants to tell you the truth. Tell you all about the way he punished the person you’d been complaining about for weeks, describe the justice that he dealt, assure you that you’re safe from him forever.

Perhaps not just yet.

“‘Samu,” you say, mouth full. “I gotta say, this meat tastes amazing. Is it chicken?”

His lips twist into a wry smile, grey eyes sparkling with humor.

“Pork.”

if you liked this, here's my masterlist! reblogs/comments are very much appreciated

#haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere hq #osamu smut #osamu x reader #yandere hq x reader #yandere osamu #yandere osamu x reader #haikyuu imagine #hq imagines #osamu x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #tw.dc #tw.gore #tw.blood #i can't really defend myself for this one sorry #tw.death

414 notes · View notes

360iris · 3 years

Note

do you have any wips? sorry i’m just curious, i’m in love with your writing

Luv, Hold Me Down (Sirius Black x Reader, WIP)

Warning: Mature themes? I don’t know with this one.

Word count: 2,209

A/N: You’re gonna hate my ass because I have zero intention to finish the smut on this one shdhd. Maybe when I’m less busy I’ll come back and update it (although not atm). There are typos galore too so I’m sorry in advance!

—————————————-

The infamous Bubblegum Bomb Incident of 1972. Casualties: one.

During Year Two, Sirius had resolved to get revenge on Cissy’s insufferable boyfriend ever since he tripped him in the halls to get a laugh out of his Slytherin lackeys; and what better way to do that than ruining his precious platinum locks.

It was suppose to be a quick and untraceable procedure. He’d get to personally serve Lucius his own brand of justice and the job would be completed without having to suffer detention.

If only you hadn’t been rushing through the halls that day.

Lunch had just ended, and you were haphazardly ducking and dodging through the wave of students, on your way to visit Remus. He’d been sentenced to a strict, three day period of consistent bed-rest in the infirmary after a particularly bad transformation.

You’d just wanted to bring him a slice of his favorite Hogwarts style coconut cream pie, but one wrong turn and you were suddenly bombarded with three quick pelts of homemade exploding bubblegum bullets.

Sirius had designed them to be quick and lethal with their distribution of rubbery goo so that the target's hair was sure to be ruined.

The first shot sent the small plate in your hands completely airborne. The next two hit you square in the chest, knocking you fully onto your back.

The aftermath was so extreme that it took the combined effort of Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and eventually, the guiding hand of Madam Pomfrey to free you from the sticky sludge and off of the stone pavement.

By the time they’d got to the infirmary, your entire head of hair had been deemed unsalvageable by sweet Poppy, and the only thing she could figure to do was shave it clean off by hand.

You’d spent the next two days unexpectedly alongside a tired Remus, confined in the sick bay, crying your eyes out hysterically. You’d had no idea who had done this to you or why.

That was until the third day, when Poppy finally allowed visitors in, in hopes of lifting your spirits.

Your guests included:

An empathetic Lily and Mary, both girls bringing you and Remus an abundance of flowers from the greenhouses, with explicit approval from Professor Sprout; alongside the homework you’d missed and plenty of junk foods.

An overzealous Marlene who’d spent the entirety of the three days drafting up and collecting signatures for a petition to permanently ban disruptive joke shop type inventions.

And lastly, an uncharacteristically stonefaced James and solemn Sirius who both quietly observed the crucially placed scarf on your head meant to distract from your current state of baldness.

“Go on then. Tell her, man. It’s only proper.” James said abruptly with folded arms, for the first time ever foregoing his usual impeccable home-taught manners and any form of courteous greetings altogether.

You watched confused as Sirius stood some several feet away, staring directly down at his shoes. After another coarse verbal prod from James, he stepped forward, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

“I- You have to understand, I couldn’t have known, Y/N! It happened so suddenly and before I knew it, it was too late!” He pleaded desperately and you weren’t quite understanding what he meant.

“I don’t follow, Sirius. What are you on about?” You asked, watching as he began wringing his hands.

He looked over to James again, seemingly pleading for aid that wouldn’t come. James looked positively severe, intent on standing by his decision to have the boy do this by himself.

“I- I was the one who blew the gum bullets.” Sirius finally whispered, looking positively terrified of your reaction. “But I didn’t intend on hitting you, I promise! It was for that git Malfoy! Remember when he tripped me in front of all of those sixth years last month? I’d been working on a way to get him back ever since! You’ve got to believe me, Y/N!”

But you’d stopped listening after the initial reveal. Your blood ran cold and it was hard to focus on anything in particular before suddenly all of your senses came rushing back in, and you were furious.

And even though James and Remus had been gauging your response, neither could have been quick enough to match the speed at which you pulled off both of your slippers and hurled them at the older boy’s face.

Successfully managing to clock him so hard, he reflexively reached up to clutch his sore, but still intact nose.

After that day, you had deemed Sirius public enemy number one, he managed to outrank even the silver-spoon fed Slytherins and that antagonizing blight, Peeves.

While there were tonics for quickening hair growth, you cursed Sirius Orion Black, every time you had to awkwardly apply a plethora of random oils to your scalp and walk around campus bald for an entire semester.

When he looked your way, you glared back mercilessly. If he dared to even address you, your responses were far from being deemed PG-13.

He’d spent the first six months wearily but consistently trying to apologize, however the damage had already been done, and it’d destroyed any semblance of friendship he’d crafted with you beforehand.

So after a while, he gave up. If you were going to hate him regardless of his actions, he figured he might as well stand up for himself during the bickering matches that transpired whenever the two of you were less than six feet apart.

Over the years, you’d remained bestfriends with Remus and James, though they could never hang out with the both of you at the same time.

For example, if you were eating breakfast with the two boys in The Great Hall and Sirius arrived late after sleeping in, you’d promptly roll your eyes and slide away to talk with Lily.

——

“That most definitely is not healthy, James.” You grimaced, tilting your head back laughing. The book in your lap, long since abandoned from the moment your bestfriends entered the common room.

“Muggle five second rule, Y/N! You were the one who told me about it to begin with!” He grinned from his spot sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you.

You couldn’t help bursting into a fit of giggles, desperately trying to respond. “Rem- Remus! Please! Inform him that it doesn't apply to dropping a sandwich down an entire flight of stairs!”

“Believe me I tried, but he seemed pretty determined to eat it, hair and all after catching up to it.” Remus replied softly, a fond smile playing on his lips as you began making gagging noises of disgust.

“No! James Fleamont Potter, tell me you didn’t actually eat hair!” You laughed, extending your socked foot to shove him.

“I will suffice by just saying that, there may or may not have been a stray hair or two on it when I picked it up- Oh! Sirius, how was detention?” James trailed off to greet a certain boy and your demeanor immediately soured.

Your textbook on alchemical runes suddenly seemed like the most interesting thing in the world.

“It was worth it. Mcgonagall must be getting tired of me because she had me choose a book and read for three hours. Don’t let me interrupt the fun though. Looks like you’ve finally coaxed the Ice Queen to defrost for a bit. Shame I wasn’t here to see it.” He remarks, and you didn’t need to be looking at him to know he was wearing that infuriating smirk.

“Don’t worry, Black. I’ll never be able to truly relax knowing you’re still out running amuck. Next time you get written up, I’ll be sure to beg Mcgonagall to keep you chained outside with the rest of the wild animals.” An acute look of disgust etches across your face as you close your book, promptly shoving it into your bag.

“If you’re so desperate to see me in a collar, the person you need to be begging is right in front of you, doll.”

You could not have rolled your eyes harder at his remark. In a huff, you tug the strap of your bag around your frame and stand indignantly.

“You’re actually right for once. James? Keep your mutt on a tighter leash, before I’m forced to be the one that puts him down.” You sneer, flipping your hair over one shoulder and striding up to the girls dormitory before he can get in another word.

Remus sighed, unhappily leaning back against the couch he was currently sprawled across. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Sirius watched as your figure disappeared up the stairs before turning to the boy, a dumb smile playing on his lips.

“She doesn’t hate me nearly as much as she tries to make you believe.” Was all he offered giddily before skillfully changing the subject.

———

Much like the infamous playboy Sirius Black, you were known for how frequently you broke the hearts of anyone you hooked up with. They found that sex with you was a spiritual experience, but were usually crushed when you made it clear you weren’t interested in recurring partners.

When Gryffindor’s Quidditch team won a mid-season match against Ravenclaw, James was relentless in persuading you to come to the after party. And though you weren’t originally keen on the idea, you figured it’d be an ample opportunity to relieve some stress.

The night had gone well. You’d garnered a nice buzz from the punch James made in his dorm and had your eyes fixed on Theodore Nott who’d been snuck in by Marlene.

Sirius, who was working his way onto his third cup of punch, watched you make eyes with the Slytherin boy from across the room.

He sat silently seething as you adjusted in your spot on the couch, crossing your legs while holding that snake’s gaze. In the end, all it took was the simple curl of your index finger for Theodore to hand his drink to an unimpressed Marlene and approach you.

Sirius watched as the two of you exchanged a handful of words before you sultrily dragged the boy away by his collar.

It took a minute for him to register that the styrofoam cup in his grasp was crushed.

After grabbing a napkin, he irritatedly ran a hand through his hair and his breath was ragged.

Why did he care that you were probably seconds from fucking a random guy? He definitely wasn’t one to judge, he’d been with plenty of people over the years.

However, no matter how many times he rolled the idea around in his head, he was getting angrier by the minute.

Remus approached him to spark up a conversation, but he was already slipping past him, towards the direction he watched you disappear to earlier.

He found you in the hallway, lip-locked with Theodore who had a grip on one of your exposed thighs. Meanwhile your hands were tangled in his hair.

Sirius’ body switched into autopilot, moving at such a speed that his brain couldn’t even keep pace.

He had harshly pulled the boy off of you, slung you onto his shoulder and made his way to his dorm. Partygoers standing confused as you beat his back, yelling at him to let you go. Once he’s on the stairs away from prying eyes, he delivers a sharp slap to the exposed skin on your thigh.

“Stop screaming bloody murder, Y/L/N.” is all he says and you bite your lip at the sting.

By the time he locked his door and tossed you onto his bed you’re looking at him like he’s insane. Scurrying to get off the mattress but he quickly grabs you ankle, pulling you back to where he dropped you.

“What the fuck has gotten into you!?” You hiss, watching him run a hand through his locks.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to stop being a brat and realize you like me. Tired of watching you hop on random dicks that aren’t mine. You want to get laid tonight? Fine, fuck me then.” He growls and you’re instantly overwhelmed.

“Did a screw come loose in your head? I don’t know what the hell you’re on but I’m not fucking you all people!” You respond by grasping a pillow from his bed and chucking it at his head. He easily catches it with a roll of his eyes.

“I’ve loved you since our first year, Y/N. And I’ve observed you long enough to know if you genuinely hated me or not.” He confesses and you freeze. His eyes were crystal clear and you’re at a loss of words so he continues.

He gently grasps one of your hands, bringing it up over his heart. You can very faintly feel his heart racing and your brows furrow. He was actually being genuine.

“You want fuck me so bad you’ve officially gone stupid?” You ask but he sees the tiniest smirk on your lips. And for whatever reason, you actually let him move in to kiss you.

He jumps a bit when you bite his bottom lip and you giggle before he’s pressing you back onto the bed.

It’s a fight for dominance, neither of you wanting to be the one that relents.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #Harry Potter Smut #hp #hp wip #hp fanfic #the marauders #marauders era #hp smut

350 notes · View notes

camthesolemnone · 3 years

Note

*crashes through door*

HI I HAVE ANOTHER ONE!!

Ok. Soulmate AU!! it's the one with the red string connecting you to your soul mate by your pinkie. Make up some rules for it if you need to!! I like to do the thing where the string gets tighter/looser as they move closer and farther from their s/o.

Ok, goodnight, I love you, bye!

*mwah*

*passes out just outside door*

Whoops accidentally made Zhanna older than Heavy in this one. Well I mean, maybe she is, but I've always written Mikhail as the oldest child in his family. Anyway, enjoy!

Wide eyes full of tears and flushed cheeks was what Mama came across upon turning to face who was tugging at her shawl. Little Zhanna, no more than five, was highly concerned about her baby brother.

"Mama! Misha’s finger is blue!"

Fearing that her son had developed gangrene from the cold brought on by the heavy storm outside, the distressed mother turned away from her soup pot and made haste towards the living room.

"Zhanna! Go get your father!" She instructed, entering the space, and the small girl nodded rapidly as she dashed off to where Papa was doing laundry.

Mama approached her child. The infant was situated in the center of the carpet, tiny hands shaking and eyes also leaking. Mikhail couldn't form words yet. He could only helplessly wail as he became light-headed; he had lost all feeling in his pinkie finger.

Mama kneeled down near him, and Zhanna and Papa appeared a second later.

"What is going on! Is moy syn alright?" The older man cried.

Mama took the boy’s hands in her own and examined them closely. As Zhanna had announced, his left pinkie was a light shade a blue. At the base of Mikhail’s finger was a small red string, fastened so tightly that it constricted the blood flow. The Russian mother breathed a sigh of relief.

“There is nothing to fear, he has simply acquired his soulstring,” Mama explained, standing up and giving her family a reassuring nod.

Papa let out his own held breath at the fortunate news, but Zhanna simply stared at her parents in confusion.

“Mama, what is a soulstring?”

Her father reached out to grasp her mother’s hand, and the two of them smiled down at their daughter.

“Young Zhanna, a soulstring is leetle red string around your pinkie that connects you to your soulmate: the person you are destined to fall in love with. Some people’s thread appears immediately after birth, but for others, it can take several years before their special partner is chosen,” Mama revealed.

Papa added on, motioning to Mikhail in the process.

“The tighter the string is, the farther you are away from your soulmate. Seeing as your brother’s is strong enough to cut off circulation, there is good chance his soulmate does not live in this country.”

Zhanna glanced over at the thread on Mikhail’s finger and then back to her parents, crossing her arms.

“What happens to the string when you find your ‘soulmate?’“ Zhanna inquired.

Papa crouched down to ruffle his daughter’s hair while Mama picked up Mikhail and left the room to resume dinner.

“Once you meet fated love, the string falls off for good,” he explained.

The small girl beamed and ran a hand through her black hair.

“Chudesno! I can’t wait to get my soulstring!”

Mikhail had given up on his chances of ever finding his love or feeling his finger again.

Forty seven years had passed since the red string initially appeared on his pinkie, and not once had he ever felt it loosen up. He felt hopeless and silently wondered most days if the higher beings had made a mistake. Maybe he truly wasn’t attached to anyone and they had tied the thread just to spite him. Instead, the Russian decided to spend his time taking care of his family.

His father had long since passed and Yana and Bronislava had run off with their soulmates, but at least Mikhail could still provide for his mother and Zhanna.

An ad in the newspaper intrigued him one morning: a mercenary job in America offering thousands. The giant immediately took to calling the company, known as Mann Co., and asked for a position. Not only would he be able to make enough money to provide a comfortable life for Mama and his sister, he was delighted at the opportunity to wield guns against evil men with no consequence. Moving away from the Russian blizzards would also prove to be a positive change.

Within two months of his interview, the new Heavy Weapons Specialist was landing down in New Mexico. A few days were spent getting used to his new surroundings and signing paperwork, but eventually, the bus came by his hotel to take him to the Reliable Excavation Demolition base.

While lounging in the tough leather seat, Heavy glanced at the surrounding seats and took notice of two other men sitting in the back. They both wore red and yellow bands on their arms, indicating they were some of Mikhail’s new teammates. Preferring not to spend a year with a group of people who disliked him, the Russian moved to the back of the bus to make a good first impression.

“Privet, I am Heavy Weapons Guy,” he began.

The two men looked up from their respective pieces of literature. The younger of the two lazily held and flipped a baseball magazine with one hand. The other man, taller and masked, was gripping a thick, plain-covered novel.

“Yo! I heard that our Heavy was supposed to be, well, you know, heavy, but damn you’re fa--OWW!” The Bostonian shouted, being met with a swift slap from the man sitting beside him.

“Please ignore Scout here. This rotten bunny doesn’t seem to have any manners.”

“Go to hell, you French bastard!” Scout shot back.

The insults continued and Heavy found himself silently slinking back into his seat. He had the strength to snap both of them like toothpicks if he so desired, but it was better not to end his career before it started.

Along the ride, the bus stopped several times to pick up the rest of the RED team. First came their pyromaniac and engineer, then the sniper and soldier. The demolition’s expert came by himself and the final stop was saved for a relatively young woman in a purple dress.

“Er, hello, everyone. I am Miss Pauling, your boss’s secretary. I’m scheduled to give you guys a tour around the base and to break down your jobs. Raise your hand if you have any questions and please, try to cooperate with one another,” the woman sighed.

Dell, the shortest man on the team with a yellow hardhat, raised his hand.

“Yes, Engineer?” Miss Pauling prompted.

“Isn’t there supposed to be one more fella here with us?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Miss Pauling glanced toward the ceiling briefly as if she were really pondering the answer before turning to Engineer.

“Medic’s flight got delayed due to a massive snowstorm in Berlin. He should be here tomorrow at the earliest.”

It was impossible to notice the difference just by looking at it, but Mikhail nearly jerked forward when he felt it. Was he really going insane in his desperation? Had the string really just loosened? It most certainly had, he had felt the pressure ease up ever so slightly, but something in the back of his mind that told him it was just his imagination. The giant shook his head and groaned, barely able to pay attention to anything else Miss Pauling said.

His mind became a battlefield of longing versus absurdity. The thread had suffocated him during his prime. There was no possible explanation as to why his soulmate would be appearing now of all times. By forty seven, Mikhail was overweight, balding, had several scars from his time in Siberia, and was rated ugly by every woman he had attempted to romance. He couldn’t think of a single reason as to why his love would find him attractive now, and it deepened the eternal hole in his heart.

But Heavy held onto the faintest thread of hope. Maybe, just maybe, his suffering was about to come to an end. He would meet with the woman or man fate had binded him to, and he could finally be happy.

That night, Mikhail stared at his bedroom ceiling wide awake. Once their team’s doctor arrived in New Mexico, he would know for certain what destiny had in store for him.

Ludwig’s attempt at getting some shut eye on the flight failed. He couldn’t fall asleep even if he wanted to, for his pinkie was regaining its color. Somehow, this job as a battlefield medic that he had selected out of the blue was leading his soul to its missing half.

“It’s only a matter of time,” he murmured to himself, eyes more hopeful than the day he earned his doctorate’s degree.

Heavy awoke to the sound of loud yelling and banging on his door.

“Attention! You will be dressed and be stationed in the recreational room for role call in five minutes! That is an order!” Soldier commanded.

The softer, more compassionate voice of Miss Pauling sighed and spoke through the door.

“I’m sorry Heavy. I couldn’t say anything to convince him not to come with me to wake you guys up. Just settle down in the rec room in a few minutes, okay?”

Mikhail groaned, both from a lack of sleep and the sudden wake-up call. He complied, however, adorning his red, short sleeved shirt, his bulletproof vest, the bandolier for his minigun, pants, a belt, and a pair of sturdy combat boots.

When the heavy weapon’s specialist arrived in the rec room, it was absolute chaos. Spy had moved on from insulting Scout to bickering with Sniper, Demoman was already sloshing around a bottle of alcohol, Scout had stolen Engineer’s hardhat and was taunting him with it, and Soldier was shouting at a terrified looking Pyro.

“RED Team! Enough! It’s only the first day and you’re already at each other’s throats!” Miss Pauling stomped, placing her hands on her hips.

Some the the mercenaries, including Heavy, faced towards their higher-up while the others continued to do their own thing.

“Now look, your first battle will begin as soon as Medic arrives. I’m heading over to the airport to pick him up, so I advise you all check over your equipment,” her words more of a command than a suggestion.

Heavy’s eyes widened. He felt it again.

He decided in that moment that polishing Sascha could wait.

Before Miss Pauling could leave the room, the large man scurried over to her and placed a massive hand on her shoulder to grab her attention.

“Yes, Heavy? Do you need something?” She asked plainly.

Mikhail nodded, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Da, I want to come to airport with you, if you do not mind. I promise not to cause any problems.”

Pauling raised an eyebrow.

“Pozhaluysta, Miss,” the Russian begged, rubbing his forever blue pinkie with his other hand.

Miss Pauling opened her mouth to speak, but her words died on her lips when she noticed the tiny gesture. Instead, she gave him a short nod of understanding and proceeded out of the building.

In the car, Heavy’s leg bounced. His breathing was deep, and his whole body seemed to sweat with fear and anticipation. With every inch the vehicle moved, he could feel the burden on his finger lighten up. This wasn’t just some illusion or dream, it was really happening. After forty seven years of waiting, he was about to meet the love of his life.

Miss Pauling took note of his anxiousness, but didn’t say anything during the trip, giving Mikhail plenty of time to ask himself a million questions. What would his lover look like? Would they be a man or a woman? Would they have a heart of gold, or a rotten core that sought to make the Russian miserable at every turn?

Finally, the airport was in sight. Mikhail could hardly withstand the separation between himself and his soulmate. He wanted, needed to find his other half. He needed to shower them with all of the affection he had been waiting so long to administer. He needed to hear their voice and inhale their scent and feel their body against his own.

Miss Pauling nearly tripped over her high heels trying to catch up with the eager Russian. She had seem some truly heartwarming instances of soulmates meeting over the years, but never before in her life had she seen someone so desperate to unite with their fated love.

He had to hold onto a railing as he stepped out of the plane to avoid passing out.

Ludwig had always experienced air-sickness while flying, but more than that, his hand was trembling. The string that had plagued his right hand for decades was loose, looser than it had ever been before. The doctor was overwhelmed; he wanted to throw up and cry tears of happiness at the same time. This was his moment, his soulmate was waiting for him.

As he stood near the loading gate, the thread loosened further, and it signaled that his soon-to-be lover was getting closer, closer.

Unable to withhold his excitement, Medic dashed across the airport. He got caught up in several crowds and passed right by the luggage pickup, but none of that mattered. He was following his heart’s call now; he let the slackening of his bindings guide his every step.

“Heavy! Please slow down!” Miss Pauling yelled, but the giant had blocked her out a long time ago.

There was only one voice he was willing to let in now. He pushed past a group of adults with the tiniest apology as he charged up the stairs. If he were anywhere else, he would have most likely been stared at and thrown out by security. In the chaos of the airport, everyone assumed he was simply running to reunite with a loved one.

An opening in the crowds.

Everything went silent.

The world slowed down.

Mikhail spotted him, his soulmate across the grand building. He was more handsome than he could have ever imagined, and although he didn’t know it yet, Ludwig also firmly believed that he had just encountered an angel.

The soulstring unraveled and landed on the ground.

All remaining distance between them was covered in a second. The force of the impact sent them to the ground, but neither of them cared. Arms wrapped around strong bodies, tears spilled out of adoring eyes, and lips whispered the pledges of love they had so desperately longed to hear.

At last, Mikhail and Ludwig were home.

#tf2 #heavymedic #fanfiction #soulmates

31 notes · View notes

royalcalum · 3 years

Text

Must Love Dogs

Featuring: Calum x reader

Warnings: language, mentions of being catfished I guess... it’s just straight up fluff tbh

Summary: As an up-and-coming Twitch streamer, you’re used to befriending people online. When you start getting cozy enough with one fan for them to ask for a ride from the airport, you find out who you’ve really been talking to for six months.

Author’s Note: I’m going to try to start rewriting some old fics (mainly Calum tbh) to make them more realistic (lol as if this is realistic) and better in general so this is a rewrite of “blurb request lol 4/4 where you're whole relationship has been on the internet like you met on twitter or something and you finally meet at the airport after like five months idk this would be really cute and it's like my dream :----(“ Not beta’d

It started as an innocent fan and creator friendship. You’d been streaming on twitch for a while and had gained a decent sized following, averaging about 500 viewers per stream. Needless to say, your comments section was a little difficult to keep up with. But even with the quick scrolling of new comments with each statement you made, you noticed one name in particular whose comments were always funny or sweet instead of crude and vulgar, like some of those your mods were frequently deleting.

When that same username followed you on Twitter not long after you took notice of them, you were quick to follow back. You’d followed a few of your “fans” before, so it wasn’t unusual. Hell, it wasn’t even odd for you to DM back and forth with some of your followers. What was out of character was becoming attached to one of those fans.

All you knew was his first name (Calum), his age (24), and his location (LA) before you started talking regularly. He had asked for your number at one point, but was understanding when you said you don’t give out that kind of information. For you, it was a relief to finally talk to a man who not only enjoyed your streams, but didn’t make you feel objectified and demeaned. For him, it was a relief to finally meet someone who liked him instead of his name or money.

Communicating with him grew difficult when he flew to Australia to visit family. The time difference still gave you time to DM every day, but staying up late wasn’t quite the same when it was just afternoon for him. You’d already spent five months talking to him and as much as you hated admitting it, you had started to care for this mystery man despite never seeing his face. That never stopped you before (Corpse, anyone?), but for all you knew, “Calum, 24, California” was actually “Craig, 42, Alabama.”

When it came time for him to fly back to LA, you were surprised when he asked if you wanted to meet up when he got back. Like, right when he got back. As in “my friend can’t pick me up and I don’t want to ask you of all people to suffer through LAX traffic so I can just get an Uber if I need to but it’d also be nice to finally meet if you could give me a ride from the airport,” back.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t apprehensive. He was technically still a stranger you met on the internet and you couldn’t guarantee he wasn’t going to overpower you, take your car, kidnap you, and murder you somewhere in the desert. But you took precautions and told your roommate and a couple other friends where you would be and when to expect you back. If things went well and you spent more time with Calum, you’d call them and tell them, no texting.

Two days later, you stood next to your car parked outside the baggage claim for his airline. You didn’t even know who to look for, but he knew what you looked like — obviously, since you met through your twitch stream.

As people started to flood out of the airport doors, you started to wonder if you had been duped. Would this be a story worthy of Nev and Max? Being led to an airport just to be stood up? More and more people left the terminal while you took up space with your car. You’d get a ticket if you didn’t leave soon — your car may be running but you were technically parked in the loading zone — and your anxiety just continued to grow. He wouldn’t lead you on for nearly six months and stand you up at LAX, of all places… right?

Just as you looked down at your phone again to let your roommate know you might be back sooner than expected, you heard your name called from a few feet away.

And when you looked up, you were starstruck.

“You motherfucker,” you laughed as he got closer. “You knew I was a fan from my stream! That’s why you didn’t want to FaceTime!”

He laughed with you and didn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug.

“It was fun getting to just talk to you,” he defended. “I didn’t want you to unintentionally treat me differently just because you like my band.”

It felt nice to not only meet him, but feel him. He held you tight against his chest, his arms circling your shoulders with yours around his waist. And his thick sweater gave you a soft cushion to rest your head against as you just held each other. You pulled back from his hug but kept your hands on his ribcage, his resting on the sides of your neck as you asked, “How did you end up on my stream?”

“Someone tweeted a clip of you singing one of our songs from an older stream so I decided to check you out. I thought you were pretty and fun so I came back for more.”

For a second, you just stared up at him in multiple stages of shock. This was Calum Hood. From your favorite band. He just hugged you. And called you pretty. How could you handle this?!

But you could handle this. Because he was also the guy you had been talking to for the past six months. The guy you stayed up late talking to and who sent supportive messages when your chat got too aggressive and told you stories from his childhood. You knew him. You just had to let yourself realize the man you’d grown to care about personally was also the man you cared about as a fan.

Holy shit.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sliding his hands down your neck and over your shoulders to your upper arms as he looked down at you with concern etched on his face.

“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry, it’s just taking me a second to really let this all sink in,” you admitted.

“Yeah, now that we’re here, I’m realizing I probably should’ve broken the news in a less, uh, spontaneous way,” he laughed nervously, dropping his hands from you and shoving them in his pockets instead.

You should’ve just kept your mouth shut to keep those hands on you. Or if luck was on your side, he’d have his hands all over you later.

“I mean, I’m not mad about it,” you shrugged. “It’s just not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” he asked with a smirk.

You let out a sigh. “Honestly? I was kind of expecting to either be stood-up or meet a 42-year-old balding man from Alabama with a beer belly named Craig.”

“Wait… his beer belly is named Craig?”

“No, he is named Craig, you doof!” you laughed, gently shoving Calum’s arm.

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint,” he said with that same smirk on his lips.

“Oh believe me, I’m anything but disappointed,” you replied with a quirk of your own lips. “So, am I taking you to your place then?”

Calum started loading his luggage into the backseat of your car as he spoke to you. With only two checked bags and a carry-on, he didn’t have much, but clearly wouldn’t let you help as he hoisted everything in.

“Yes, please,” he said as he shut the car door. “As excited as I am to finally meet you, I really miss my dog.”

You gasped and immediately perked up. “Duke?!”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Do you want to meet him?”

“Oh my god, yes!” You ran around to the driver’s side and impatiently waited for Calum to get in and buckle his seatbelt before weaving through the waiting cars to get out of LAX. Fortunately, Calum got in on a late night flight so the traffic wasn’t as bad as you’ve seen before.

“I feel like you’re more excited to meet my dog than you are to meet me,” Calum pouted from the passenger’s seat.

“As excited as I am to finally meet you,” you started with a direct quote, “I really love dogs.”

#Calum x reader #Calum hood x reader #Calum hood fluff #calum hood one shot

129 notes · View notes

babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

Author's Note: I got this as a request, but decided to turn this into a fic. Thank you to whoever this person was who requested it. 💗

Summary: Your first meeting with Sergeant Barnes wasn't exactly charming, hell, it was a disaster. And the only adjectives that came to your mind when you thought about him were words like prick, bastard and a jackass. He made your life hell, and you lived to make sure you made him suffer. And neither of you realized, how your sole mission of tormenting each other became the most important part of your life.

Set somewhere after Avengers Civil War. My book does not follow the storyline, and will not include the events of Infinity War and Endgame. I do not take credit for any of the characters, except for my OC/Reader.

Warnings: 18+ [Will include SMUT, curses and violence] // Bucky Barnes is an ass

Coffee Stains - Masterlist

Coffee Stains

You almost didn't realize how late it was; the sun had set hours back, and the moon was now shining bright, pale white glow radiating from its cheeks like White ivory spread over the ground outside. You finally decided to stop working, and instead head home. So, you shut your laptop, pushing your glasses over the bridge of your nose, and finally stood up. The SHEILD headquarters was still hustling and bustling with people. People kept walking past your office door, most of them in a hurry as you joined them in the hallway, making your way towards the elevator.

Your father had worked for SHEILD, having been one of the building blocks, along with Nick Fury, and now you, being his daughter, there was nothing more you had ever wanted to do but to dedicate yourself entirely to SHEILD. So here you were, associated with SHEILD, for almost two years now.

You didn't realize when in the bubble of your mind, the kinesis of your thoughts, a woman had stepped out of her office and was making her way towards you, but not after having called your name almost three times. When she reached the elevator, she let out a soft huff, which was enough to finally put you out of your trance.

"Maria, I'm sorry, didn't see you there," you retorted, a little flustered and pink at the cheeks.

The woman almost gave you a tight lipped smile, and slowly, her long, slender arms came to cross on her chest, her left foot almost tapping against the tiled floor of the headquarters, "I've been calling your name, you didn't respond. You alright?"

You thought for a moment, your glossy eyes looking down at her feet before back up on her face again, and nodded, "Yeah, yeah, just thinking. Is there anything you needed?"

"Not me, Fury wanted to see you before you left."

You nodded, pursing your lips slightly and gave her a ghost of a smile before taking a step back and craning your neck towards Fury's office once and then back, " Well then, I guess I'll pay the boss a visit." The two of you exchanged a light hearted chuckle, and you waved Maria off as she stepped into the elevator with two more agents, and you slowly made your way up to Nick Fury's office.

You stood awkwardly at the glass door, bringing your palm up to the glass and knocking on it. Inside the office, the bald headed man with a patch on one of his eyes slowly looked up, and when he saw you, a hint of a smile broke out on his lips as he nodded, and you stepped in.

"You wanted to see me?"

You and Fury shared an easy going relation; he reminded you of your dad, for the two of them had served together before your dad was killed in action, and ever since, Nick Fury had taken it upon him, to watch over you like a father figure.

"Come on in Y/N, I wanted to speak to you."

Shutting the door, you walked up to where he was seated and slowly lowered yourself on the empty chair in front of him, your elbows coming to rest on the surface of the desk.

"So– " He began, sitting back more comfortably, and also to keep a better eye at your expressions and reactions, "With Natasha Romanoff out on a mission, the Avengers are in need of a dire back up agent."

Your eyebrow shot up at his words, not understanding where he was getting at. As though he sensed your confusion, he continued, "A position is open. The Avengers are looking for someone to join the team. And I recommended your name."

It was as though your ears managed to block out every word that Fury said except for the part that he had recommended your name. Avengers had only been a distant dream for you till now. They really intrigued you; and you had done your research on almost everyone of them, except for the newbies of course that you hadn't had the chance to meet. Your lips parted in surprise, and a soft gush of air managed to escape your lips.

"Fury, I – I don't know."

"They asked us for the best we've got, and although it's been a long time we've sent you on our mission, you're the best we've got. I couldn't say no," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood for he was now able to sense that you were starting to get nervous.

"Holy shit." You finally managed to form words, not the best choice of words that you could have formed, but you were so surprised, you didn't know what to say.

"Rest up, Y/N. Tomorrow, we go to the Avengers Towers, and meet your new team."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

The next day, you woke up earlier than you usually did, but you knew that it was your part excitement part anxiety bubbling up that had kept you tossing and turning in bed all night. You had gone over all the possible scenarios that could happen today, at the Avengers Towers, on why the Avengers would think that you weren't cut out for this. You were really good, there was no doubt about that; you were trained in hand to hand combat, espionage, you were good with weapons, with the small guns and also the big ones; you could say you were pretty good with your sniping skills. But, you hadn't been on a mission for the SHEILD in a long time, especially not after your messy divorce with Wallis, your ex husband who had been your colleague and your partner at SHEILD, the one person you always went on missions with. It had taken you a long time to come out of the emotional trauma that came with a separation, and to worsen it all, he had been the one that you had caught with another woman in your bed, on a night you almost escaped death, on one of your solo missions.

You were already dressed and ready by the time you were picked up and dropped off at the Stark Towers, with Fury by your side.

You wouldn't lie if you would say that you were starstruck, by just a look at the exterior of it. It was heavenly. And the interior. You didn't even want to comment on it, it was that breathtaking, a complete opposite to the SHEILD headquarters.

"Like it?" Fury chuckled next to you, breaking your thought process, and a faint hue of a blush to grace your cheeks. As the two of you got into the elevator, you turned around and gasped slightly at the sight of the entire city of Manhattan right there in front of your eyes, from a little glass box.

"Friday, Tony's lab, please. Thank you."

"Right away, Director, and Miss Y/N," the AI chortled back, causing your eyes to widen even further. Friday was like a celebrity to you, and now finally you were here, at a place you had only dreamt of being, and the reality was slowly sinking in.

The elevator pinged open, and Fury was the first one to step out, followed by you as the two of you walked into what looked like a really high technology lab. Your eyes marvelled at the sight, and you just looked around, your eyes scanning through it all, your mind still in a daze.

"Welcome, welcome to my humble abode," there he was, the man himself, the man behind all of this, the famous Tony Stark. Although you had met him before, and Steve and Natasha as well, it was back at the SHEILD headquarters.

"Tony Stark, long time no see."

"Well, I've been busy you see," he smirked smugly at you, but soon, a small smile paved its way over his lips and he slowly engulfed you in a warm hug.

"Welcome home, I always did say to Fury."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, side glancing your boss, who was, for a change, having a smile of his own over his lips.

"You always belonged with us, here at the Avengers Towers. He never really let you go," he gave Fury a look and then, his friendly demeanor altogether changed and a professional look took over his face, his features turning stoic. "Now Fury have you spoken to her about her trainings?"

"Not yet."

"Great, so–" Tony dramatically clapped his hands together, "With a great position comes great responsibilities."

"With power you mean?" You chuckled.

"Yes yes. And that," he winked playfully, only to straighten up again. "But that power needs to be harnessed. You will be put into training, like all the newbies we get and we will get to decide when and if you have what it takes to be one of us."

Fury nodded, and you looked at him, noting how he was beaming at you, like a proud father, causing your confidence to boost up as you nodded in Tony's direction.

"When do we start?"

"Hold that thought, ah, Friday? Can you please ask Captain to join us, please?"

"Right away, Mr. Stark." The AI replied.

"Well then, so that fixes it."

A comfortable silence fell over the lab and Tony walked off to look at something on one of his screens. You fixed yourself by the glass staring out at the picturesque view of the city of Manhattan. It wasn't long when you heard heavy footsteps behind you, and finally when you heard Fury greet Steve, you realized he had joined the lot of you. The minute you turned around, your eyes fell on him and with a soft smile, you nodded in his direction, "Mr. Rogers."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Bucky wasn't having the best day.

At first, he had woken up to bone chilling nightmare. If that wasn't all, he had taken his motorcycle out for a ride, and somehow he had parked it when he had reached the cliff, and made his way to the edge to just stare at the horizon, when someone had somehow managed to steal the bike. And if that wasn't the worst part of the day, he was sexually frustrated and utterly sex deprived as he had just returned yesterday from almost a month long mission.

Sam being the nice person he was, had tried to warn most of te people to stay out of Bucky's way today; because today, he was really biting.

But he really hadn't warned you.

Because he still didn't know who you were.

After having met with Steve in Tony's lab, Fury had left, and Steve had opted to walk you around the facility, until he had dropped you off at your apartment on the seventh floor. He had told you that you were to share this floor with a few of the Avengers, but he was in a hurry so he had asked you to come find him later in the evening. Besides, you had to be ready to train with him today at 7 in the evening.

It was already 5 by the time you stepped into your apartment; your eyes widening in awe when you saw the interior of it. The furniture was sleek and modern, made out of the best quality of wood there could be, and the walls were painted a spotless white, numerous abstract paintings hanging on the walls.

You gotta hand it to Tony, the man sure did have a taste.

It didn't take you long to fill the walk in closet up with your clothes, and even after filling up the two bags that you had brought over, you couldn't help but marvel at how much space the closet still had for more stuff, giving you an inspiration to shop for a dozen more outfits. However, now wasn't the time to think about it, and instead you decided to grab yourself a mug of coffee from the kitchen, so you could be alert and fresh for your training session with Captain.

Whistling to yourself, and with the help of Friday, you did manage to find your way to the massive kitchen, adjoining the spacious recreation room that was empty when you reached. Walking into the kitchen, you filled up your mug with piping hot coffee to the brim, and lifted the mug up, walking out of the kitchen.

Little did you know that a mistake was bound to happen on your first day here.

Bucky had just stepped out of the gym, dressed in a tight white tank top and his joggers, his hair all sweaty and sticking to his face. At first he had decided to hop right into the shower, and maybe get a little frisky, but at the last moment, he finally gave up on that idea, having decided to stall the shower for a little more time so he could grab himself a granola bar from the kitchen.

Although his feet made a lot of ruckus as he walked into the recreation room, and towards the kitchen, but perhaps you were so engrossed in licking your lips, eyeing the mug of coffee in your hands that you failed to hear him come in.

You stepped out of the kitchen at the exact same time when he tried to enter, and you ended up crashing into him, your hot coffee spilling all over his white tank, causing a massive stain.

Bucky cursed as the coffee came in contact with his flesh, a faint hissing sound escaping from his lips, which was probably due to the burn that he could now feel on his abs. His eyes turned venomous instantly, and his face contorted in fury.

"Even with a pair of glasses on, you still cannot watch where you going?" He barked at you, in a rude tone.

You looked at the stain on his abs, and then back up at him, not failing to notice the blue in his eyes, mentally cursing yourself for how clumsy you were.

"I – I'm really sorry, I –" You started stammering, only to be cut off by him again.

"Your sorry won't fix the mess you made, would it?" Sarcasm dripped through his words, and now, you were starting to feel how this man was simply overreacting. You spilling a piping hot mug of coffee over him wasn't really that much of a big deal, was it?

"Let me wash it –"

"We have machines that does that stuff for us, you really don't have to bother. Now, if you don't mind, you are in my way," the blue eyed man simply huffed, his face slowly turning cold and emotionless, as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching you and waiting for you to move out of his way. Maybe you weren't that fast in moving; and you understood this when you felt him roughly push himself past you, ignoring the way you fell to your side by the weight of his body, almost crashing against the doorframe and hurting your side.

"Really? Did you just fucking push me?"

This time, you turned around, your eyes contorted in fury, and your lips laced together, in a hope that pressing your lips together like that would stop your curses from flowing out.

"Would you rather have had me jump over you? You aren't exactly small."

He had his back now turned towards you, his body bent over the fridge as he callously moved his hands through the contents of the fridge.

"Prick."

Shaking your head, you took a step away, leaving the now empty mug of coffee on the slab before making your way out of the kitchen.

You were fuming.

(Feedback is always appreciated.)

Want to be added to any of my taglists? Please fill out the form on this link. 💗

#bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes

119 notes · View notes

maggyme13 · 4 years

Text

Why Licking?(15/?)

AN:Hello again :) I was so thrilled by your comments that ai was able to write another chapter. Thrilled to know what the dwarfs were planing?

Wordcount: around 2400

Warnings: the usual

Why Licking-Masterlist

Masterlist

Part 14

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The door vibrated under the heavy knocks.

This took longer than I thought it would. Almost three hours.

“A moment please.”, you called out to take a last look around your little home. Heaving a last sigh you finally opened the door to face – one single dwarf. Again.

He was tall for a dwarf, and burly. His head bald with tattoos and beard short but impressive. On his back, two heavy looking battle-axes rested on is back and metal plates covered his knuckles.

“Dwalin, at yer service. King Thorin sends me. He is waiting for you in Erebor.”, Dwalin´s words held authority and no room for arguments.

“I thought that much. But I have to inform you, that my eyesight is not as good as it once were. Especially with the changing lights now that it is late.”, you nodded, taking your coat and pulling it around your neck.

“There is a carriage waiting.”, he stated, flexing his shoulders. Though it looked like a habit of his and not a tactic of intimidation.

“I will follow you then. Please lead the way Master Dwarf.”

“Good.”

You did as you had promised, and when you turned a corner in the road a goat drawn carriage was waiting for your companion and yourself.

Half an hour later, you believed you saw the gates of the great mountain appear in the dark.

Arriving at the gate, warriors saluted the two of you.

“The king is waiting in the throne room.”, a white haired dwarf stated.

“Thank you brother.”

“Miss, my name is Balin. I am the kings advisor and will be escorting you to him. Please follow me and my brother. And if you need anything, please let me know.”

“Will do.”, you frowned.

Why are they this polite? They know who I am. What is going on?

The two dwarfs lead you through the huge halls that had been carved into the mountain by skilled masons.

Entering the throne-room, you at once noticed the young dwarf you had met that fateful day. The prince and your reason for being here.

“Is that her?”, a deep timber voice asked and the blond dwarf nodded.

“Yes, Uncle. That is her.”, the prince answered, “Tabrok?”

“Yes, King Thorin. That is the one they call Mabrotnosh.”, now you saw the ex-slave standing next to the King.

“Dwalin?”, he asked an unspoken question.

“She did not resist, and followed every order.”, he sounded almost surprised.

Every single pair of eyes was concentrated on you.

“Why am I here?”, you finally asked, “If you wanted me dead you would not have treated my as good as you did.”

“Why do you think we want to see you dead?”, this time it was the blond prince asking and you answered.

“Of all these dwarfs present, you and Tabrok(?), should know best why I think that.”

“And that is exactly the reason why you are here.”, it was the king. “You saved my nephew and were nearly killed in the process. I want you to thank you for this. But you are right, this is not he only reason why you are here. It was the reason how found you though. Bring him in!”.

The last part was a direct order and not long after the sound of many armored boots echoed through the hall.

Turning around towards the sounds, you noticed thirty dwarfs that surrounded a much larger figure walking towards you.

An Orc.

Dressed in leather armor and wearing a warg- skin on its head.

“Drago.”, you breathed in confusion and wonder, “What-”

“He surrendered earlier this morning close to the boarder of our territory. He was bearing a message.”

“A message?”

“Yes, a message regarding your person.”

“I don´t understand.”

“You see, we were awaiting the arrival of a large caravan of our people migrating to our new home. They were intercepted in a small canyon by a band of orcs. Five hundred lives. Woman, children and men are in the hands of those orcs. The orc you see over there was bearing a message. If we want so see our folk again we have to return their own. Their Queen for the lives of our people. A queen no one knew about. A queen no one had even heard about. You must understand the dilemma we faced. They want us to return something we did not even know we have.“, the advisor continued for the king.

In the meantime Drago and his guards had stopped close enough for you to see his red eyes. Your guard growled, his throat and chest visibly vibrating, in anger or threat you did not know.

“Mabrotnosh. I am sorry that I could not protect you from harm as I had sworn.”, he bowed his head, “But I will make it up to you. I came to bring you home.”

“They said you have taken hostages. Is that true?”, you asked.

“Yes. My orcs are in charge under Ska´al´s command. They are ordered to not harm anyone until your save return.”

“Who gave the order?”, you breathed, needing to know if Azog was still alive, or who now was ruling over your fate, “Was it Azog, or maybe Bolg?”

“You are our Queen.”, was the only answer he gave.

“What if I do not want to go back? Not after what happened to me?”, you demanded to know, the question meant for both dwarf and orc.

The prince was the first to answer. “Then we will have to fight to free our people. Many will die. Many will suffer. My brother and I might lose our mother.”

“Nothing will happen to you, ze Mabrotnosh. We can arrange for you to stay in different quarters. You chose who gets close to you”

You were able to hear the hidden plea in his voice and thought about thinking to return to the mountain.

If you don´t, then hundreds of lives were in danger. Their blood would be on your hands.

Without saying a word, or thinking, you turned around and walked the same way back from once you had come. Well, you tried as well as it worked with your blinded eye. Footsteps followed you, multiple dozens, and you heard someone shout after you.

But you ignored it, only coming to a stop a hundred meters away from the main gate and whistled. One loud high-pitched whistle.

It did not take long for a shadow to close in on you. A shadow on four legs. A shadow with ice blue eyes and sharp teeth.

“Unless you want me to walk all the way to the exchange, I do not recommend shooting or hurting him in any way or form.”, you declared, staring the closest dwarf down that had drawn his weapon.

“Hello Akul. I knew you had stayed close.”, you hummed into the black fur of your warg, “And you have become so big in just five months.”

“Is that your decision?”, King Thorin asked one last time.

“What is one life in exchange for hundreds? Mine was over the day my village was raided.” It was more than a statement than an answer.

“So be it. Dwalin, you know what to do. Bring back our people.”, he ordered and within twenty minutes one hundred dwarfs were mounted on war- goats and ready to ride alongside Drago and you.

-..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..

Close after midday of the second day, the camp that held the hostages came in sight at the horizon.

“We will return to our people, than yours can return to you.”, Drago declared and with no way of arguing or demanding another way, the dwarfs accepted.

That was how you rode alongside your guard into the camp, where every single eye was on you.

“Drago, give the order to let them go unharmed. And then let us leave.”, you ordered and he nodded.

“Get ready to depart! Leave the Dwarfs unharmed. We ride to Moria.”

The two of you stopped in the center of the area, when a dwarrowdam caught your attention. She was clutching her side and looked scared.

“What happened to her?”, you asked no one in particular.

“An orc happened, what do you think?”, another dwarrowdam laughed dryly. She looked an awful lot like the king.

“Which orc did it?”

“Blue skin and white markings.”, she answered with a bit of wonder in her eyes.

“Find him and bring him here.” you ordered and five orcs scurried into every direction. It did not take long for them to find three Orcs fitting the description the dwarrow had given you.

“Who of you hurt the female?”, you demanded to know, “Answer me. It was ordered to not hurt them and yet someone did. That order was given in my absence but in my name. So who of you did go against it?”

The orc in the center and the one on the right looked buffed, it was obvious to you that it wasn´t them. The third one behaved like a little child or dog, he looked everywhere but at you.

“You two,”, you motioned at the two innocent ones, “can return to whatever you were doing. You”, pointing at the third orc,” will answer my question now. Tell me the truth and no harm will come by you from any orc or dwarf. And if I don´t like the answer, you will be banished from the orcs of Moria.”

Dammit, when they want me to be their queen, I can behave like one and use my powers to save others, and maybe change the way the orcs behave.

“Now tell me: did you attack the female, and why did you do it?”

“I wanted to have her, but she refused.”, he sneered and the fierce looking dwarrow clutched her fists.

“Understood. As you can belief, I do not like that answer. Because you behaved unprovoked. If she had tried to kill you and you were merely protecting yourself. I would have understood. But like this. Leave this camp at once. Do not look back. If any Orc sees you from now on, he will be allowed to kill you and will not be punished for it.”

The orc snarled at you, showing his sharp teeth and almost white eyes. He tried to intimidate you into rethinking you judgment, but an even deeper growl from both Drago and Akul had him whimper in submission.

“Mabrotnosh.”, he nodded before standing up and turning towards the trees.

“You let him leave without any harsh punishment? How dare you to speak like this for us dwarfs?”, the king´s twin fumed, “letting him go with the promise that no harm will come at him. He will continue his dark thoughts. He will be looking for his next target.”

“You did not listen. I exclaimed that no DWARF or ORC will be causing him harm. I said nothing about the wargs. Sometimes, predators should know how pray feels like. Don´t you think? Drago, I believe your Wargs have not been hunting for weeks now, am I right? Give him another half an hour, then send them out with one of your riders . Make sure to bring me back his head.”

“My Mabrotnosh.”, he smirked, giving the order to one orc you knew to be Nasck.

“There is a little army send by your King waiting a few leagues down that way. You are free to go and join them. Once the Wargs have returned we will be leaving for Moria. It is your choice when to leave to your blood.”

“Who are you?”, the dark haired dwarrow finally asked the question that was plaguing her mind since the first second she had seen you.

“I am (y/n). I was taken from my village by the pale Orc Azog. Everyone else was killed. He took me with him and made me his Mate, his wife it seems. And apparently that also made me the Queen of the orcs of Moria. Most of these orcs you see here, at least the bigger ones of them, have become my personal guard. Apparently they made it their task, to get me back from the life I was given after the battle of the five armies, and took you as hostages to force King Thorin to release me. This is a hostage exchange.”

She looked baffled. “But in the end, you are nothing more than a hostage yourself. One with a lot of power, but still a prisoner or hostage. If you ever need advice or just an ear that listens, send a raven. My name is Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thor, and sister to the foolish king under the Mountain and mother to two sometimes idiotic princes. Should you ever feel the need to relocate your home. You will always be welcomed by me. You gave up your freedom to return ours. Farewell Queen (y/n). May you live long and prosper.”

“Farewell Lady Dis. May I ask you a favor before you go though? Tell your sons to not walk into an enemy fortress alone. Next time, there might me no one to save them like it happened during the battle.”

“THEY DID WHAT? I will tan their hides so long they can´t sit for months. They told me they were taken from the edge of the battlefield. And my doofus of brother …. Thank you for this information.”, now grumbling and muttering, Lady Dis walked over to the injured woman.

“WE WILL BE LEAVING NOW! PACK YOUR THINGS!”, she ordered and within fifteen minutes no Dwarf was in sight anymore.

“I changed my mind. Send out your wargs. And then we will return to Moria.”, you spoke, knowing Drago was standing behind you.

“Nasck will leave at once.”

Growling and snarling went through the camp when the Wargs gathered to hunt, Nasck mounted his warg and the hunt began.

.--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--.

“Nasck has returned.”

“Send the head to the dwarf as a sign that I kept my word.”

“I will Mabrotnosh. What then?”,Ska´al asked.

“Then we will return to Moria.”

“Yes Mabrotnosh. Let´s return home.”

Home. My new home. What ever there will be waiting for me.

Part 16

Permanent:

@jadepc @pacifyhxlsey @thankyoukarenclifford

@thankyouforanonymity @punkrockhufflefluff

@scarletraine @buckycaptspideypool @markusstraya @graveyard-groupie @markusstrayya @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil

@marshyrebelcloud

Why Licking:

@pekusofixus @silverclawz @lasswarrior @ @meziah-48 @crappyimagines

Please reblog with a comment, send me an ask/PM or comment on this fic .

Feedback is always appreciated ;P

~Maggy

#Azog #Orc x reader #Azog x reader #Orc #Hobbit #Orc x female reader

146 notes · View notes

nanoland · 3 years

Text

new chapter (lucifer fic)

Ponder on the Narrow House, part 6

Mazikeen/Eve/Michael

(Whole thing can be read on AO3.)

Fuck the next bounty.

After thinking about it for ten seconds, Mazikeen turned them around and started driving straight for Los Angeles.

Eve can talk to him. Not me. He needs to talk to someone, and Eve will do.

Barely half a mile later, Amenadiel dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road, just far enough away for her to bring the car to a screeching halt before it would otherwise have slammed into him like wet clay into a steel wall.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said, looking exhausted.

She snorted and pointed skyward. “Yeah. This? Not gonna lie, I was expecting something like this. But I thought it would take, like, at least a month.”

Wincing, Amenadiel said, “No, that’s… that’s a different problem and Chloe’s promised to discuss it with him. Maze, we need you back at Lux. Now.”

“Hi, Amenadiel!” Eve called, waving.

He succeeded in smiling at her without even glancing at Michael, despite his younger brother sitting right at her side, glaring fixedly.

“Why?” demanded Mazikeen, tensely drumming her fingers on the wheel. (Inner voice hissing, Shouldn’t have left him alone, you dumb bitch, you’ve been doing this for centuries and you know what he’s like when you leave him alone for more than five minutes.) “Seriously – what could he possibly need me for? He’s God.”

Sighing, Amenadiel put his wings away. “Mazikeen, we’re all well aware that Lucy often… has difficulty focusing. To put it mildly. There’s a lot more for him to focus on now than ever before. He’s trying to undo climate change. To that end, he started refreezing all the melted ice in the Arctic. But he did it too quickly and, resultantly, there are several hundred trapped ships we need to save and several thousand dead penguins to resurrect and, to be honest, he hasn’t really got the hang of resurrection yet – you remember what Dan looked like for the first few hours after Lucifer brought him back to life…”

“Eurgh. Yeah. Yuck. Totes not the kinda shit you’d wanna see in Happy Feet.”

Michael was snickering.

“Right. And then there are all the changes he’s been making locally,” Amenadiel went on. “The expansion of Lux, the overnight disappearance of all Los Angeles’ firearms, his deciding that the city’s white supremacist population should grow a third ear so they can be easily identified, and, well, it turns out that a lot of Chloe’s colleagues at the police station-…”

“I get it, I get it. Chaos everywhere. As usual. What, exactly, is the problem he wants me to fix?”

Amenadiel exhaled heavily. “The demons. The ones you brought from Hell to help us defeat Michael.”

“Oh, so you do remember I exist,” Michael muttered.

Stonily ignoring him, Amenadiel said, “They’re still on Earth and they’re causing trouble. The one called Dromos, in particular. He’s gathered followers and they’ve surrounded Lux.”

Her brother’s face – his real face, not the human puppet he wore – flashed through her mind’s eye; a memory from when they were unruly children and had raced through Hell together, using the stone pillars that they’d not yet known were cells as an obstacle course. She’d been faster; he, more athletic. Together with a few cousins, they’d made a fearsome team, and not even their meanest older siblings had bullied them.

She folded her arms and looked away. “They’re demons. Lucifer can deal with them. Snap his fingers and turn them into rats or whatever. Make them explode.”

“Mazikeen,” Eve murmured, soft and low, touching her shoulder. “You don’t want that. They’re your family.”

Amenadiel blinked, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “Er… yes, there’s that. There’s also the fact that Lucifer doesn’t want all of humanity to see him as the type of God who casually annihilates his enemies; a harsh, vindictive God. He wants to be liked. To be loved.”

“Fine. So why don’t you and the other angels sort it out?”

“Come now, Maze. A bunch of angels and a bunch of demons waging war in the midst of a bustling city? Humans will die. But you’re the Queen of Hell now and, by extension, the Queen of Demons. If you command Dromos to stand down, he will. This can all be resolved peacefully.”

Eve’s fingertips were cool against her skin.

Mazikeen looked back at the sky. The cloud letters were starting to dissolve. “What does he want?”

“Who?”

“Dromos. He doesn’t act on instinct. He’s a planner. He wants something.”

Shrugging, Amenadiel said, “He shouted at me about demanding an audience with the king. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t really care. Dromos isn’t someone I’m inclined to listen to at the best of times. The last time the wretch showed his face on Earth, he kidnapped my son.”

“Mmm. Kinda like your sister was gonna do. Kinda like you were gonna do, now that I think about it.”

“Maze!” he gasped, sounding shocked and hurt. “You can’t compared poor Remiel’s misguided actions to-…”

“I’ll do it,” she interrupted. “Take me to Lux. Now.”

“Excuse me? What about us?” snapped Michael.

Mazikeen met Eve’s gentle gaze. “You don’t need to be involved in this. My family drama, it – it’s not pretty.”

“My son killed my son,” said Eve, taking her hand. “My husband loved another woman. I’m used to drama.”

Swallowing, Mazikeen glanced at Michael. “And you, wimp?”

Feigning disinterest – feigning it badly – he said, “You showed up to my last domestic dispute. Guess this’ll make us square.”

“I’ve only got two arms. I can’t carry all of you,” Amenadiel pointed out.

Mazikeen rubbed her chin. “No… but you can carry the car, right?”

He didn’t have time for this. There was so much to do.

“World hunger,” he recited as he bounced from one laptop to the next, all twenty-three of them displaying a different article or video by a leading scientific or sociological mind, “wealth inequality, pollution, cancer, droughts, racism, elderly abuse, housing shortages, cruelty to animals…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda patiently, sitting on his best couch with her legs crossed, a cup of coffee and a laptop of her own beside her. “You said you wanted my advice as to how you should manage this whole ‘being God’ business.”

“I do, doctor! Very much. Your input is invaluable. Blast, where did I put that map of Alaska? I’m thinking of making it bigger; slotting it in alongside the Arctic to help stabilise all that new ice.”

“Right. Thanks. So here – here is what I’m suggesting now; slow down. Seriously. Take a breath, step back, and think your next move through.”

He scoffed. “‘Slow down’? Doctor, I need to work at least three times faster if I’m to keep up with everything. There are people suffering everywhere, millions of them! There are sinners in need of punishment! I’m seriously considering asking Chloe to be my Deputy God. I never imagined omnipotence would entail so much paperwork and she’s always been better at that than me.”

Outside the penthouse, many stories below, the chanting grew louder. None of the human police officers, journalists, and gawkers who’d gathered to watch could understand it; it was in Lilim.

Cursing, Lucifer strode to the balcony and shouted down, “For the last time, would you all kindly piss off? I’m trying to fix an entire planet here!”

He heard the elevator open and moaned. “Detective, not now. Please. I’m very sorry I haven’t returned your calls – I swear I’m not avoiding you – it’s just that I’ve got a lot on my plate today and we did already agree to meet for supper at-…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda, sounding terrified.

“Lucifer,” said someone else, sounding irritable.

Now that he was God, rage didn’t turn his eyes red anymore. It turned them gold and blindingly bright, like spotlights. Fists clenched, he turned to see Dromos step into the penthouse, once again clad in the flesh of the late Father Kinley and wearing a leather jacket.

“Nice trick, making all the doors disappear. Finally decided to climb up the side of the building with a sledgehammer and burrow my way through into the elevator shaft,” said the demon, hands in his pockets and concrete dust coating his beard and his bald head. “I want to talk to you, sire.”

Storming across the room while Linda remained frozen, white-faced, on the couch, Lucifer snarled, “You! You have the nerve to come here, to stand before me, after what you did to my nephew?”

He took Dromos by the neck and lifted him off the ground, his wings opening in fury (he had six of them now).

Stoical even as he choked, Dromos said, “I need. To talk. I will leave immediately afterwards.”

“Oh, you’ll leave, alright! You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw you into an active volcano, you accursed traitor!”

Dromos’ stolen skin began to sizzle beneath his fingers. He waited until the demon’s face was wrinkled with pain before throwing him to the floor hard enough to crack the wood and make a crater.

“I will leave,” Dromos gasped, coughing up blood, “when I have spoken.”

“What could you possibly have to say for yourself? Kidnapper. Child-thief.”

Still on the couch, Linda said tremulously, “Lucifer, you’re… you’re hurting him. Stop it. Please.”

“Let us stay!” shouted Dromos, and coughed again before dragging himself up onto his knees. “On Earth. That’s what I came to say. Let your erstwhile subjects stay on Earth if they choose – at least, those who served you in the battle against Michael. Don’t force them to return to Hell. Let them, let us choose where we live, going forward. That’s my request, your Majesty. My only request.”

Lucifer boggled at him. “Is that a joke? Demons? On Earth, indefinitely, unsupervised? Are you out of your tiny mind, Dromos?”

Baring teeth, Dromos said, “Why not? What does it matter to you now? You’ve got everything you could possibly want. Everything anyone could possibly want! All we’re asking is the freedom to come and go as we please.”

“No.”

He spoke the word bluntly, and then he stepped back, adjusting his cuffs. Regaining his composure. “Never. You’re dangerous and untrustworthy. This world is for humans, not you. Good grief, haven’t I got enough to preoccupy my mind, without the added stress of demons rampaging around town?”

“We won’t rampage. We just-…”

“Why are you even coming to me with this? Mazikeen’s the new Queen of Hell. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Dromos wiped blood from his lips. “I don’t know if my sister and I are on speaking terms right now. And she may be Queen, but you’re God; I assumed you would be tasked with such decisions. After all, there’s never been a demon in charge of Hell before. We were told – we were always told – that only angels could rule us. I don’t doubt Mazikeen’s competence, but I…”

He seemed to run out of steam, spreading his hands and finishing weakly, “Lucifer, you’re the king. You’ve been the king for millions of years. For my entire life. Look, if you really don’t want us leaving Hell, then can you at least use your newfound power to improve it? Let us have the things mortals enjoy? Pianos, dogs, blankets, weekends, all that stuff?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Hell is supposed to be a place of punishment. The ultimate consequence awaiting sinners. I need a carrot and a stick, Dromos. How else am I supposed to convince people to behave if I don’t? Imagine a rapist arriving in Hell and being confronted with demons playing pianos and walking their dogs. Wouldn’t have quite the desired effect, would it?”

Dromos was quiet for a moment, then said without inflection, “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to put rapists. Somewhere other than our home.”

Throwing up his arms, Lucifer said, “More demands! Don’t you see how selfish you’re being? Here I am, doing my best to end all suffering, and you’re complaining about babysitting a few evil-doers – which, might I remind you, is your job. Nay, your very reason for existence. Always has been. Why’re you getting stroppy about it now?”

“I think,” Linda began, taking a tentative step forward before stopping and clearing her throat. “Excuse me. May I interrupt? Um. Okay, so I think that maybe Dromos has a point here, Lucifer.”

“Doctor! This is the creature that stole your baby!”

“Yes, I know. And I’m not saying I forgive him for that, but…”

“I wasn’t going to eat the brat,” Dromos grumbled. “I was going to make him a king.”

“You took him away from his mother!” Lucifer shouted.

“Gentlemen!” said Linda, sharply. “Please! Let’s try to talk this through like adults.”

Overcome with frustration, and only vaguely aware that he’d not been sleeping well lately, Lucifer kicked the nearest chair. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, doctor.”

“I’m not siding with anyone. I-…”

“You don’t know these people like I do. You didn’t spend millions of years in Hell alongside them. The only demon you’ve ever gotten acquainted with is Maze, and she’s not like the others; even without a soul, she’s learned how to behave like a more-or-less civilised adult, barring the occasional tantrum. But your average, baseline demon has nothing to them besides wrath and cruelty. Lilith made them to be weapons and that’s all they really are. I mean – just imagine, for a moment, how hard it was for me. To go from the Silver City, the most beautiful place ever created, to a lightless nightmare realm full of these bloodthirsty animals. To be surrounded by them, for endless eons, while they nattered mindlessly on and on about how much they love torture and pain and…”

He trailed off. Linda and Dromos were both looking past him.

To the elevator. Where – oh – Mazikeen was standing.

Where Mazikeen was crying.

No sobs, not like when Dan had died. No expression at all, really. Just open eyes, motionless muscles, and steady tears.

Before Lucifer could say a word, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors.

“Wait!” he yelped, sprinting over to stop them.

He needn’t have bothered. Now that he was God, objects did whatever he told them to do. The doors stilled, half-open.

“That sounded wrong,” he acknowledged, clasping her shoulders in apology. “You completely missed the context. What I was trying to say was-…”

“Don’t touch me.”

It was a phrase he’d heard many times before from mortal lovers to whom he had accidentally revealed his Devil Face. Some of them said it in horror. Some of them, the religious ones, said it in anger.

Mazikeen looked neither horrified nor angry. She looked sick. As though the very sight of him turned her stomach.

Lumbering over, Dromos stepped into the elevator alongside her and pointedly pressed the button again. With no idea what to do or say, Lucifer allowed the machinery to work.

The elevator closed.

“What have I done?” he asked Linda.

Nothing I didn’t know.

“Maze?” called Eve, waiting by the car with the others as Mazikeen stepped out of Lux’s front door and into the sunlight.

The door hadn’t been there when they’d arrived. She’d been forced to use Dromos’ route. Lucifer must have decided to put it back. He could do that now. Just decide things. Didn’t need servants, nor followers, nor anyone. Sure didn’t need a ‘more-or-less civilised adult’ whose kin were animals.

“Maze! Wait!”

Mazikeen didn’t know where she was going, only that she was walking very quickly and felt that she’d die if she stopped. She heard Eve’s heels patter on the pavement and heard her say her name a third time, quiet and worried, and that was what stilled her feet.

“What happened?” murmured Eve, cupping her face.

The fifty or so demons who’d been standing around outside Lux when Amenadiel had set the car and its passengers down were still there. Instead of chanting to get their king’s attention, they were now looking at her.

Michael and Amenadiel stood among them, the latter having been trying to convince them to stop blocking traffic.

Which was what she should have been doing. It was what he’d brought her here to do. But she’d been gripped by a sudden, violent need to see Lucifer, to check on him, just quickly, before tending to her siblings. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.

Except that wasn’t what I was. Not to him. To him, I was a Rottweiler on a leash.

“Are you alright?” asked Amenadiel, his eyes overflowing with concern.

That was what cracked her.

To him. Not to everyone. Not to Eve, or Amenadiel, or Linda. It’s not that I’m incapable of earning love and respect.

I’m just incapable of earning his.

Her legs gave out. She crumpled against Lux’s outside wall and started to weep properly, loud and bitter.

Eve immediately dropped down beside her, holding her tight. Michael shuffled closer, rubbing his shoulder while his mouth opened and shut, testing out sentences that were never spoken.

Then Dromos was there, kneeling, his face sad and tired.

“We did what we were told,” she said to him in Lilim, through sniffles. “We obeyed. We were loyal. We… we…”

“We are alone, sister,” he replied. “But I think we always were.”

“We obeyed!”

“We obeyed Lilith and she left. We obeyed Lucifer and he left. No one wants us, Mazikeen. It’s just the truth.”

She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I want us.”

Seizing his jacket’s shoulder, she hauled herself to her feet and addressed the crowd, her voice raw: “I want you! You’re my family and I want you! And I swear I will be the queen you deserve, for as long as you’ll have me!”

Her human skin fell away, the left side of her face turning cold, bony, and brittle.

Stepping back to join their siblings, Dromos asked hesitantly, “What would you have us do, then, my queen? What are your orders?”

Hurriedly drying her eyes, she studied them one by one. “Whoever wants to can stay here. But I’m going home. Hell is going to be ours, Dromos. No more damned souls. No more angels. It’s ours now and we’re going to make it into something we can love.”

She turned to face Eve and Michael, her heart pounding. “You’ll come with me, yeah? You’ll stand with me?”

“Always,” said Eve, closing in to kiss her.

“Whatever,” Michael muttered, clearly just relieved that the crying part was over.

Amenadiel sighed, shaking his head gravely. “Mazikeen, are you sure this is what you want? You won’t be able to leave Hell on your own – you’ll need to contact me.”

“Yeah. At least until this one grows his feathers back,” she said, gesturing at Michael. “That’s okay. You’ll always come when I call, right?”

“Of course. You’re my friend, Maze. I’m sorry if I haven’t said that often enough.”

Fuck it. Cringing on the inside, Mazikeen drew Amenadiel into a quick, gruff hug. “You too, idiot.”

#lucifer #mazikeen #lucifer morningstar #eve #amenadiel #michael #michael demiurgos #dromos #fanfic #my fic

5 notes · View notes

myhaikyuuthings · 4 years

Text

“Is this it?” pt 2

warning: angst, fluff pt 1 here

prompt: high school reunions are always messy, especially if you’re y/n

Nishinoya x reader

word count: 2330

a/n: i was listening to music and a sad song came on shuffle about lost love and i couldn’t help myself

‘Karasuno High School 10 year reunion’ screamed at you every time you passed the side table. It was in two days and you still couldn’t decide if you were going to go.

After the break up with Nishinoya you hadn’t been back to Miyagi, let alone the high school. The minute you graduated you went to stay with your grandmother for the summer, starting college directly after. You hadn’t spoken to anyone back home aside from your parents in ten years. There was no point in going.

With a sigh you knelt beside your bed and pulled a box out from under it. You moved to sit on your bed, lifting the lid for the first time in six years. There were movie ticket stubs, amusement park tickets, zoo brochures, even little notes. You took everything out one by one, laying them out. Underneath it all, the pictures.

Just like that, your feelings rushed back. You were so sure it would be safe to look now. Ten years is more than enough time to move on from someone, but you never did. You tried, you went on dates, blind dates, speed dates, tinder dates. No one ever made you feel the way he did. You reached for your phone, and for the first time in a decade you dialed the number and prayed it was the right one.

He answered on the second ring.

“Hi, may I ask who’s calling?” he asked, a woman’s laughter echoing in the background.

“It’s Y/N.. Y/N Y/L/N, I wasn’t sure your number would be the same after so long,” you said, holding your breath.

“Y/N holy shit, it’s been a while. You kept my number all this time?” he laughed, shushing whoever he was with.

“Ah no, it was in my old journal I found, how are you? How’s everyone been?”

“Did you really call me to catch up when the reunions in two days?” he teased you, it really seemed like he hadn’t changed much.

“I’m not sure if i’m going to come to be honest,” you admitted, feeling just a little guilty for it.

“You have to come! You have got to see who I married,” he whined, but you could hear the pride in his voice.

“Tanaka, you could always just tell me,” you whined back, laughing softly with him.

“No can do, if you wanna know how anyone’s doing you better be at that reunion. I know a lot of people want to see you.”

When you hung up, you spent the next several hours reading through your old diary and the letters Nishinoya had given you. You had saved all of them, down to the sticky notes with random faces doodled on them that he used to stick to your notes during class. You opened a bottle halfway through, letting yourself reminisce. It didn’t take long for your pillow to be covered in tear stains and the pain in your chest to resurface.

In the end, you decided to go. You even dressed up a bit, wearing a nice black dress with some heels. Your nerves were high as you walked through the gym doors. The last time you had been here, Noya was yelling about needing to perfect his receives. It scared you a bit how vividly you remembered every detail of your time together just from stepping into the room.

The first person you saw was Tanaka, still as bald as ever with his arm around Kiyoko. He caught your eye, smiling widely and gesturing you over. You walked over, saying your hello’s.

“Bet you didn’t guess I married Kiyoko,” he beamed, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze, “she actually said yes to me, can you believe that? Been together nine years now.”

“I’m actually not that surprised, she used to talk about you a lot when we were younger,” you sent Kiyoko a wink as she sputtered around her glass of champagne.

“I can’t believe you remember that,” she laughed, taking your hand, “I missed you, what have you been up to since you disappeared? I tried to keep up on social media but you didn’t post much about how you were.”

“I got my masters, I actually run my own business in my field now, that’s mainly it,” you give her hand a small squeeze, you had deeply missed your best friend, “i missed you too though, I’m sorry for just ghosting you guys like that.”

“I’m not gonna lie it was kind of shitty y/n, but I understand to a degree,” Tanaka admitted, scratching the back of his neck, “Now that the gangs back together though, don’t think you can get away so easily this time.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You spent the next hour catching up with everyone, assuring them all you weren’t going anywhere this time. Most of them understood why you left, knowing how difficult it would have been to be around them with how close they were to Nishinoya. But Tsukishima made a good point, why didn’t you ever come back? Everyone agreed, wanting to know why you didn’t try to reconnect or respond to their messages once you moved on. You just gave a shrug, claiming it would have been too awkward. You know Sugawara saw through your lie though, he was always good at reading you.

“I’m going to go get another drink, I’ll be back,” you excused yourself as Hinata boasted about his team beating Kageyama’s recently, Kageyama threatening him with violence if he didn’t Hush.They had both changed so much but at the same time they were still the exact same. You really missed them.

Grabbing your drink from the table, you turned quickly and smacked right into someone. Your dress was soaked and from what you could see, so was his shirt. You released a string of apologies, trying to pass him napkins while drying yourself up. When he took the napkins from your hand, that’s when you noticed the name tag.

‘Hi, I’m Yu Nishinoya’ it read. Your heart stopped.

You couldn’t believe it. Was it really him? You refused to believe it. You glanced at his face and instantly regretted it. It definitely was him, and he was just as beautiful as you remembered. You winced seeing the shock on his face, not knowing what to expect. This was probably the worst way you could have met him again. He shook his head, seeming to shake himself back into action.

“Here come with me, they still have the towels in the same place,” he smiled, offering you his hand, “they’ll probably do a better job than these napkins.”

You took his hand, following him to the old clubroom and tried to ignore the raised eyebrow from Tanaka. He passed you a towel, turning to take care of his own clothes. You shivered slightly from the cold, regretting going for a second glass. Wordlessly Nishinoya removed his jacket, holding it out to you.

“No I’m okay I can’t take your jacket,” you rushed, suddenly grateful for how low the lights were as your face flushed.

“Just take it y/n, please? I don’t want you getting sick because I messed up,” he insisted, moving to drape it over your shoulders.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who messed up, I did turn around into you after all,” you laughed, accepting the jacket, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and don’t worry about bumping into me I should’ve looked where I was walking,” he laughed with you, his hands still holding the edges of the jacket. The two of you just stared at each other for a moment before he dropped his hands. “Sorry.”

“How have you been?” you changed the subject, “It’s been forever.”

“Uh yeah, it has,” he coughed, turning to face the window, “I’m the coach for Karasuno now, I have been for about three years since Ukai decided to retire. You own your own business now right?”

“Yeah I do actually, how’d you know?” you asked, genuinely shocked that he knew.

“Just because we haven’t spoken in a decade doesn’t mean I haven’t tried to keep up on how you’re doing,” he smiled, but even in the dim lighting you could tell it wasn’t a happy smile.

The silence was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours. He kept looking out the window, and you kept looking at him. You put your arms in the jacket, placing your hands in the pockets due to the cold. There was a small box in his pocket. You froze.

‘He’s planning to propose to his girlfriend tonight,’ you thought, trying to fight off the horrible feeling in your stomach.

“So Nishinoya, other than coaching what have you been up to?”

“I spent a lot of time fishing after I graduated, helped Ukai out with the shop while he coached, then we kinda switched, that’s really it,” he shrugged, turning his attention back to you. “I’ve dated here and there but it never really lasted.”

‘What?’ you thought, stunned.

“What about you? Aside from your business you don’t really post online,” he chuckled, his own cheeks a dark red, “have you found the one?”

You did. Twelve years ago, and you lost him too soon. You couldn’t tell him that though, it wasn’t fair to him so instead you said, “I haven’t actually, no one ever felt right for me.”

He nodded like he understood. He probably did honestly, and you two went back to the silence. You nodded at nothing, looking around the room. When you glanced back at him you saw his eyes locked on your hands in the jacket pockets.

“Oh! Right um, if you don’t want me to hold onto the things in your pocket I can give them to you, I didn’t even think-” you rushed out, blushing furiously.

“Don’t worry about it, the only thing in their is yours anyways,” he cut you off, coughing again. You tilted your head in confusion while he just avoided your eyes. “You can open it if you want.”

Your curiosity got the best of you and you pulled out the box. The bump of your heartbeat against your ribcage didn’t help your anxiety. You slowly opened it, a shiny ‘N’ pendant staring at you head on. You glanced up at him, trying to figure out why he brought this. Not to mention why he still had it.

“I lied back then,” he blurted, smacking a hand over his mouth as soon as the words left it.

“What? Yu what are you talking about?” you were trying not to let your hopes get the best of you, heartbreak hurts enough the first time. There’s no reason for you to suffer again when you haven’t even recovered from the first time.

“When you asked me if I meant it,” he sighed, shaking his head at himself. “I don’t know why I lied, but I did and I don’t know why I’m even telling you this now or why I brought that necklace.”

“You lied,” you repeated, touching the initial softly, “if you lied, what did you really mean? Please Yu, I need to know.”

“Nothing is worth losing you, I wanted to go back in time and spend more time with you instead of practicing, or even just invite you to study at my practices so we could be near each other,” oh, why didn’t you ever think of that, “I wanted to restart those months. That’s what I meant, it’s what I should have said.”

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you watched a tear drop glide off your nose into the box. You quickly wiped your eyes, not wanting to cry in front of him.

“I wish you would have said that,” you admitted, giving him a sad smile.

You closed the box, putting it back in the jacket pocket. You pulled off his jacket, placing it in his hands. With a breath to collect yourself, you smiled at him one last time. “I think I’m going to head home, thank you for telling me the truth.”

You didn’t make it three steps before his hand wrapped around your wrist.

“I watched you walk away before and I have regretted it every second of every day for ten years, I can’t just let you leave again,” he said, his voice filled with emotion.

You closed your eyes, trying not to break down. Keeping your back to him, you moved to remove his hand from your wrist. He reluctantly let go, the both of you standing silently, tears falling freely.

“Noya-”

“I still want you,” you felt him take a step closer, nearly touching you, “I still need you, I’ll make it right I swear, I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you and haven’t stopped since.”

You turned to face him, jumping slightly when you realized how close your faces were. His face was red and blotchy from the crying, his cheeks wet. You reached your hand up, wiping away his tears. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

“I haven’t met the one since we stopped talking because I always knew you are the only person for me,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You felt his tears wetting your shoulder but you just cried with him. Holding him felt like waking up from a bad dream and realizing you’re safe. You have never felt as comfortable and safe in any aspect of your life than when he’s holding you.

“Can we try again, properly y/n,” he whispered against your neck, tightening his hold on you.

“I never stopped loving you either,” you replied, pulling back and giving him a teary smile.

When you two walked back into the reunion hand in hand, his initial hanging on your neck, it felt right. For the first time in forever, everything felt right.

#nishinoya #nishinoya yū #nishinoya x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu reactions #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! reactions #haikyuu!! headcanons

217 notes · View notes

tenmillionwhumperflies · 3 years

Text

Cloudwalker Series Part 9

This part involves a nightmare Dyan has. It contains horn removal, but it’s only the aftermath, not like a description of it happening. I don’t think there’s anything else that should be a problem. Master-list Here

Approx WC: 1900

Ihuka woke quickly as Dyan hit him in the wing. He sat up with a gasp, ready to lash out with his claws, even if they were blunt. He braced for… something. Maybe his master was back, or something had happened, but when he looked Dyan was still asleep. He was coated with sweat and tossing his head back and forth, his breath came in tiny pants as if his collar had been fastened too tightly. He whimpered, gripping the sheets, and his wriggling was getting worse. He must have been having a dream, but clearly it wasn't something nice. He looked terrified, even asleep. This must have been a night terror. Ihuka frowned.

Ihuka reached forward and tapped his thigh and then backed away and waited, nothing… he tried again, harder, harder, shaking him, but he just wasn't waking. His struggling was getting worse, he whined and rambled. "Please," he moaned in his sleep. "P.please, no… p please…"

Ihuka couldn't wake him, he didn't want him to be scared like this. Would he ever wake? Was it magic like what his master used?

He wasn't sure what else to do aside from drag himself to the door, yelping and mewling in pain as he disturbed his injuries, and bang on the door, scraping at it and crying out loudly, whining and hitting the door, being as loud as he could. He knew there was a good chance his master would be angry and hit him, maybe even send him back to the dungeon. He really didn't want to go back, to hurt even more than his body was capable of dealing with but he didn't know what else to do. Dyan was suffering, screaming and pleading now and Ihuka didn't want that. He'd risk the harm for Dyan. He was trembling even though he kept going, and a few minutes later, the door unlocked and opened.

"What are you doing?!" Avizon snapped, only in his pants, showing the large scars in his torso. He hadn't had time to really dress once one of them had started squawking something awful, and then the screaming had started. Ihuka backed off quickly in his presence, squeaking immediately, but he pointed to Dyan, who was clearly suffering. He was gasping for air and screaming and crying, almost choking. Cloudwalkers were known to have long, potent dreams, and they were often very realistic, but Avizon had never expected a nightmare could be as bad as this.

Avizon glared at Ihuka who hid his head in response. He shook with fear and looked so small and fearful. So he'd only done it for Dyan…

Avizon sighed and approached Dyan, trying to shake him awake, calling his name. It only made him worse. He tried to struggle against it. Whatever he was seeing was scaring him beyond words, but he wasn't going to snap out of this easily.

"What do you see, little one?" Avizon murmured. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his hands against Dyan's head, one on either temple and his thumbs on his forehead. He closed his eyes, letting power flow through him. He gently made his way into Dyan's mind.

His consciousness slipped away into blackness, and slowly an image started to emerge. It was Dyan, crying and screaming, begging for his life, surrounded by shadows, a wave of arms and hands. They grabbed at him, yanked at his wings and hair, pulling feathers, restraining him and worse, Erix was standing over him with a saw and Dyan's horn in his hands. Gods, he was reliving it all, in some warped inaccurate night terror. Avizon had missed the worst of this dream it seemed.

Dyan looked up, staring directly at him. "Master?! Master, please! Help me!"

Avizon was thrown. Dyan could see him?! That never happened with humans. But that meant…

Oh no.

Avizon couldn't help him. He was nothing but a figure. He couldn’t speak, couldn't move, couldn't show expression on his face. He was a statue... And Dyan was going to take it as he was watching him suffer. He was adding to the nightmare.

"Master, please!" Dyan shrieked as the hand suddenly yanked him down. He was disappearing into the inky black floor. Drowning, he was going to drown in his dream.

"Master?!" Dyan's voice gave him chills, hearing such an agonized cry. He was beyond terrified. He had to break him out of this, now!

Avizon focused again, and he only just saw Dyan's head go under the inky water when he strained and managed to shatter the dream into a thousand shards.

He returned to the real world just in time to feel the immense whack of a white wing hitting him hard in the head. He was knocked to the floor and had to stay still for a long minute to stop everything spinning. All he could hear was Dyan's screams, his pure terror and the sound of things falling over as Dyan scrambled away. He'd thrown himself into the corner of the room, curled up, head shielded, whimpering and crying.

Avizon groaned, and much to his surprise, Ihuka inched forward, offering an arm for Avizon to use to get back to his feet. Avizon didn't need the help, and he didn’t want to hurt Ihuka but he made the point of pretending to use it.

"Good boy," he breathed.

He turned his attention to Dyan. He was pale, trembling so badly it looked like he was going to fall apart. After seeing that dream, knowing what he'd experienced, Avizon could see why. He was wheezing for breath, clawing at the floor for grip and crying uncontrollably. He didn’t know how he was meant to calm him in this state.

Avizon waited a few moments before he softly said "Dyan?"

"Please," Dyan moaned. "I. I'm sorry. Please, d.don't send me back. I…" the words died in the back of his throat. He curled up even tighter, hiding behind his wings.

Dyan looked up at him with a red damp face. "E.Erix was right, I deserve everything I get- I'm. I’m bad. I'm worthless! I make a mess of everything, and I hurt you and- and I need to shut up because…" Dyan sobbed and smashed the side of his fist against the floor, letting out a frustrated groan. "Bad, bad, bad!" He looked so ready for some sort of punishment, a punishment Avizon had no intention of giving.

Avizon came closer to him, although he did keep some of his focus on Ihuka. His little demon was laying on the floor, awake but looking tired and drained. He’d used a lot of energy that he simply didn’t have.

"Shh, Dyan, I'm not sending you back. I told you, you are mine." Those words should have terrified any other soul, but not for Dyan.

Avizon gently inched closer, reaching out with a hand for his. "Don't be afraid. You had a nightmare, a bad one, and you were afraid. I'm not going to punish you for that. You didn't know I was there."

Dyan gulped and nodded. No words were needed to explain his anxiety.

"B. But that's no excuse!" Dyan cried. "It was never an excuse before…"

"Are you saying I am wrong?" Avizon said, and Dyan squeaked.

"Then believe me when I say you're not in trouble. I am not Erix. I am better than Erix and you are not his anymore."

"Dry your tears, little bird. Shh," Avizon reached up for his cheeks and used his thumb to wipe them away. "You have nothing to fear anymore."

Avizon heard shuffling behind him and turned sharply, ready for an attack. Ihuka had inched closer to the bed but seeing Avizon turn made him back away again, dipping his head. "Easy… easy. You're not in trouble. You did well…" he soothed.

Ihuka lowered his head a little before straining himself as he got back into his spot, tucking his bald wings around himself for the little warmth they would provide and then pulling the blanket up. Avizon helped Dyan to bed and Ihuka slowly wrapped his arms and the blanket around him in a hug, keeping most of his attention on Avizon with big teary eyes. Even once he lay down, his comfort did not help, it only made Ihuka squeak. He frowned.

Avizon sighed and reached down to gently guide Dyan up to his feet. "M.master?" Dyan whimpered.

"Shhh. It’s nothing bad. Lie on the bed, you're cold. You too, Ihuka. Bed," Avizon said.

Perhaps he had broken him more than he’d needed to, overestimated his will. He only wanted obedience from him...

He didn’t want this level of fear.

______

Dyan was calming in Ihuka’s arms, and with Ihuka so nervous around him, he decided it best to leave them be. His head was throbbing, so after double checking it wasn’t a cause for concern, it would be better to just go to bed anyway.

Avizon reached forward and patted them both on the head, hushing them. Dyan leaned into it, murmuring a thanks, but Ihuka only tensed. “Good birds. Sleep.”

It was strange for Ihuka to be comforting Dyan after only a few hours had passed since Dyan had been helping him. Ihuka was incredibly sore, and he couldn’t sleep with his master sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him. It felt like he was glaring at him and he was too afraid to see if he was. He tried not to flinch whenever he patted his head and stroked it in what was meant to be a soothing way. He was just too ready for him to grab him by the hair, drag him out of the bed and hurt him all over again. He’d let out a soft mercy squeak and his master had left after that.

His brother may have been gone, but he still had Dyan, and he had to do what he could for him, he had to protect him. He chirruped softly when Dyan wrapped an arm around him. They snuggled that little bit closer before he eventually found sleep again.

Avizon sighed before he got up. “Sleep well.” He carefully shut the door with a click and this time he didn’t lock it. Ihuka didn’t care. He just wanted to stay with Dyan. He snuggled in closer to him, but it wasn’t the same as when he used to huddle close to his brother. Dyan’s wings weren’t big enough to wrap around them as Ryuvek’s did. He whimpered and sniffled. He missed his brother. He was never going to see him again, but he couldn’t dwell on it long. He was so tired...

“You can sleep if you’re tired,“ Dyan mumbled in their language. “Just knowing you’re here will be enough to help me.“

Ihuka shook his head. “But I can help?”

“I probably won’t be able to fall back asleep, no point us both being tired. Besides, you have wounds that need to heal.“

Ihuka wasn’t happy about the suggestion, but he was exhausted, and staying up much longer felt like an impossibility.

“Sleep, little firefly. It’s okay, really.“

#cloudwalker series #My writing #whump #whump writing #dyan #ihuka #Avizon #well Avizon are you happy now you made Ihuka scared of you #nightmares #how did I end up makes two perfectly precious beans I feel so bad whumping them

21 notes · View notes

allstarsstorymode867 · 3 years

Text

ALL-STARS -STORY MODE- CHAPTER 18 PART 4

Part 3

Part 5

Half way through the chapter, half way done!

Once again, it features @mortal-kombattore-115's CODZ OC, an Ultimis version this time ^^

He had risen out of where he was sleeping, yelled in terror with sweat rolling down his brow as it had caught his allies’ attention. “Are you alright, Edward?” Shaw was the first one to ask as Scarlett and P!Nikolai had walked over to where he was.

He breathed heavily as he was wide awake with a chilling feeling going down his spine, trying to form words of what he had dreamt or what he had seen in that dream.

“Ha… Ha... “ he then shook his head with a chill up his spine, placing his hand on his forehead as he had to shrug him off as he stumbled onto his feet with Frank West walking into the hall with his arms crossed and said “Well well well. Look who finally woke up, after we managed to get Dr. Barnaby here today.”

That got his attention and he had the courage to look at the photojournalist with a stare, then finally he asked “How… How long vas I out?”

“A couple of hours into the morning,” he answered before looking at the security door and continued “The old man was kidnapped by the guy who might be the one who started all of this-”

“And you two managed to get him back here, unconscious.” P!Nikolai added to his story as he and others looked at him as Dell then said “But Brad was injured before they could catch that yellow-bellied terrorist.”

Richtofen looked at Dell with little surprise and looked at Frank West, “Vas he alright?” he is concerned honestly, since that dream was bad enough, he felt like in this reality it could be worse.

“Medic, Jessie and Shaw had managed to stop the bleeding but he’s sick right now.” Frank continued as he looked at P!Richtofen and several others then asked “Which is why we have to get medicine for him.”

“I will go, we owe Brad so much.” P!Nikolai was the first before looking at P!Richtofen, “Since we have doctors here, besides Barnaby, to watch over him. And Dell is coming too.”

“Well, Ah can’t deny the bracket,” before looking over to U!Takeo with a soft smile, “Do ya think ya can come with us too?”

Ultimis Takeo bowed as he said “I am honored to go.” as Scarlett crossed her arms, “We’ll let you know if anything happens.” Shaw had said with little hope for them, “For a strange reason, we need to be more cautious, something about the mall is becoming uneasy to be in, not the zombies.”

“The psychos,” Frank understood his worry, “I am sure we can handle them with numbers.” before he turned and left the room with P!Nikolai, U!Takeo and the Engineer following behind.

6:32

They walked towards the North Plaza with Frank West leading the way, on the way, zombies, not too many yet a small group of them, they had no trouble killing them here and there but one thing that caught one of them off guard was a bug buzzing over the Engineer’s head.

Dell ducked and he looked to see what the bug was; a wasp, hovering over the Texan with gestation before going for him with fast speed but Frank intervened, pushing him out of the way as he said “Get back!”

The photojournalist swatted the hornet to the ground and one of its wings was damaged as P!Nikolai and U!Takeo found another group of the undead and took careful aim but they’re confused with the horde’s sudden change in their behavior. Zombies’ eyes were wide open and groaning in pain as one of them raised its hand to it’s head as if its suffering a headache.

Frank West was watching this as well but he was the only one that wasn't as surprised as the other three as he nudged Engie for this part and said “Watch this.” in a inhale of breath before he stomped onto the wasp that had advanced onto Dell, killing it.

The four of them had watched as zombies cried and blithe in agony as some of them had fallen to the ground and much to the three’s surprise and shock, their heads exploded, brain matter and blood caked the floor in puddles. Most of them were lagging behind before they too had met the same fate as their comrades while P!Nikolai had lowered his shotgun as U!Takeo stood down as they watched the bizarre scene happen right in front of them in confusion.

“What has caused these demons to die without either of us killing them first?” The warrior was confused as Frank had stepped away from the crushed wasp.

Dell looked at the photojournalist and said “Ya think these bugs had something to do with this?” as Frank looked back. He nodded.

“I had figured that part out already before we found you guys.” as he looked at the dead wasp again, “My guess is the same as yours, Engie.”

“And whenever you kill a wasp, it kills a whole horde, correct?” P!Nikolai had asked as he and Takeo looked over their shoulders. “Yeep, that saves you guys the trouble.”

Nikolai looked at the corpses and thought about it, if this is true, it could be useful to their advantage. Heck, it could save their ammo unless whenever they need to use them if there’s too much. This city is populated with zombies now after all.

“Is there any way to trap the wasps?”

“Jars are useful to keep these bugs in, then tossed it at any group of zombies you saw.”

“Rhen re rill make a note of it, West-san.” Takeo nodded as he turned and then looked at the store as wondered for a moment.

“Rhe store may be at the end of the hall, re must getting close.” before walking towards the end of the hall where the store is located with the other three behind him.

“You are good at leading the way when I was,” Frank was a little bit envious of U!Takeo walked to the doors. “I was using a map for this mall when you already knew it like it was on the back of your hand without one.” as the doors opened for them to enter.

Music in Seon's Food & Stuff grocery store was playing softly when they entered it, as they looked around; no zombies around but they couldn't let their guard down just yet but Frank seemed that he wanted to. Engineer looked at P!Nikolai and spoke up first after a long silence. “They started playing music in the 1930’s.”

The three looked at the Engineer as he continued “But stores aren’t the only ones to play it in them, boys.”

“...It is not comforting when it comes to zombies though.” P!Nikolai had stated the fact as he feared that Frank’s world was on the verge of a zombie apocalypse. He can only hope that even if his story gets out, the people and the government could be able to stop it, somehow.

U!Takeo walked over to the windows of the store with the sign that read “Pharmacy” and peered into them, scanning the room until he noticed something inside it and on the desk: a first aid kit.

“Men!”

He had called them over and Takeo pointed the first aid inside. Frank West smiled and patted his back as he said “Good to say heads up.” and then goes over to the double doors to go inside but when he tried to push them open, they were locked. He cursed under his breath.

“What is wrong, Frank West?” P!Nikolai asked upon seeing what he was trying to do, “The doors are locked,” Frank looked at them before looking at the doors again, “We need a key to open it.”

Nikolai patted his shoulder as he looked at the double doors, “Hold on.” Then he had gotten ready to kick it down and he did, a sound surrounded the store as the doors stood still but when he got ready to try again; a sound of a single cart was coming from the aisles nearest to them. Frank West looked to where it was coming from and so did P!Nikolai as well.

“Re are not alone…” he sensed someone in the store with them, the Engineer nodded as he looked at him and soon they went over to the aisles with weapons in their possession, looking into each aisle, expecting someone or something to be on the other side.

They then went into the aisle on the right in the middle, when they did this however, they heard someone pushing a cart from where they came and making U!Takeo unsheathed his sword to look but no one was found so far as others followed suit.

“Ahright,” Dell muttered, “This store wasn’t empty as we were led to believe it to be.”

“You think?” Nikolai was stern to the situation happening, “Keep your guard up.” he cautioned with a shotgun at the ready. Frank was ahead of them when something fell onto the floor and rolled into their mist, a lone canned food on the floor and a feeling had gone up his spine.

They turned to look for whatever caused it and a man was there, with a shopping cart that had torches, a pitchfork and knives stuck into it, making it into a weapon. Inside the basket was a woman, a familiar one laying in it unconscious.

This man appeared to be a normal manager of the store itself, he’s partly bald with brown hairs on top and on the sides of his head, yellow dress shirt, a green apron, tan pants and black shoes.

A name tag on the apron was “Steven Chapman” with a picture of himself as he scratched under his chin and the back of his neck then adjusting his red tie for a moment to compose himself as silence fell onto the grocery store and it was suffocating them as it felt like hours. Finally Steven places his hand onto the handle of the cart, seemingly normal until-

“THIS IS MY STOORE!!”

Psycho Encounter!

Steven Chapman

That caught them off guard when he exploded in an outburst, he then advanced towards them threateningly as he breathed slowly “all four of you… came to rob my store? HUH??” while they backed up slowly to keep a healthy distance from him then he yelled at them again “NOT ON MY WAAATCH!!”

“C-Calm down, sir! Someone is hurt and we are only here for medicine please!”

“It’s true, Nikolai is telling the truth!” Frank backed him up on their story, hoping this insane manager would let them have the keys to the doors but that seemed to anger him even more as he roared “Hurt!?”

Steven then grabbed the woman’s hair and then shook her head as he explained in a bellow, “That’s what this b!tch said when she came to vandalize my store!”

“Maybe she had the same reasons as us to do, we have to-”

“Shut it!” the crazed manager interrupted, “As you can see, I don’t take vandalism too kindly around here… I won’t allow it!” he gripped the handle of the weapon cart tightly so that his knuckles turned white from holding it.

“Now all of you listen to me, and listen good, partners…” he then roared “I DO NOT DORATE VANDALISM IN MY STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!!!” as he bug eyed and spit flying.

It wasn’t loud enough to wake the dead, but it shook the world around them as they looked at the manager who then ran towards them with the fire flying from the flares. They turned and ran off to different directions as he came out of the aisle they were in.

P!Nikolai turned around to look and he was after the Engineer as he yelled at them to get out of his store. “Words are not going to go through to him…” his brian said as he got out the hatchet and then tossed it at the manager, it barely got him on the arm but it did make him turn around towards the Russian’s direction. P!Nikolai found himself regretting that decision right away as Steven ran towards him and P!Nikolai ran to another aisle.

“No choice…” the sergeant thought as he cocked the shotgun back while he ran, “Have to take him out…!” as he spotted Frank West who waved him over, “Over here!”

He ran over to the photojournalist as the manager had barely missed him and stood by him with short breath. “Psychopaths…” he breathed, getting much generous oxygen in his tired lungs. “Is this what you meant, Frank?”

“Pretty much,” Frank had hidden behind the aisle that was located at the far end of the store, “Got a plan?”

“We have to put him down, if he does this to us then-”

“Nick, I am aware of how "putting someone down” is, and it’s not the first so far.”

“Me and my allies had done it before.”

Sounds of shotguns firing in the store that made both men ducked a moment as they heard Engineer cursing as he reloaded. “That was Dell…!”

“Mr. West, hold on.” Primis Nikolai peeked from the asie and saw Steven, with a shotgun rifle of his own as he was firing buckshot after buckshot until U!Takeo slashed him from behind. It had done damage but not enough as the manager turned his attention towards the samurai and rammed his cart into him. He grunts in pain from the flames.

“Takeo…!” he muttered as Frank stopped him, “Hold on, we need a plan!” as Nikolai turned to look at him.

Nikolai wondered for a moment and answered “We will distract him, you can get him while he is unaware.” and handed the rifle to him, “Do you know how to use it?”

“I’ve been trying to get a good aim.”

“Pony up!”

Engineer had wacked the manager, then ran off from him as he roared at him about assault with the cart with flames throwing from the canned flares. “Let’s hope your aim is good enough, I had to trust you with our lives for this.” as the Russian got out the hatchet.

“I am a lot better with a camera but yeah, I’ll give it a shot.”

He nodded as he listened closely to where the Engineer and Steven were, much to his surprise, they were making their way over to them, to where they were with stomping echoing the food store.

“Switch places.” He cautioned the confused reporter and he did, he was on the right side and Frank on the left,weapons at the ready.

“Get ready to run.” P!Nikolai stood his ground, waiting for one of them to pop out from the end of the aisle as his eyes were fixated towards. Feet are stomping louder and soon, a familiar hard hat wearing Texan appeared with the Frontier Justice in his hands as Nikolai shouted “Go!”

Frank felt like his feet had grown wings as he took off from the direction of the yells from the three, one was the Sergeants, the other the Engineer and the third being the manager.

He had found Ultimis Takeo patching himself up from the wound Steven had caused behind register 4, sword at his right side. “Ya alright?” he asked as he knelt down.

“I am.” he lied, to keep his pride in. “Liar.” Frank knew that from that tone of voice before he started to help but the samurai hastily refused. “I can treat my own wounds.”

“And risk an infection, best not.”

“I can do rhis myself, West-san. '' He does not want him to see the vines he had hidden inside his sleeves. “I rill have Medic rnd Richtofen treat me rater now rhat is the situation right now?” as he shakingly got up at Frank’s charging.

They heard a buckshot before the latter could explain, the Engineer was shouting at P!Nikolai to take cover and then threw a wrench at the manager. Frank then turned to Ulitmis Takeo and said “You guys gonna have to distract him while I had to blow him away…” before looking at the shotgun that the Russian had given him, “Literally…”

Takeo looked at the scene a bit longer before he nodded, turned to Frank West once again.

“You must take him down, res?”

“Yeah”

“I have little strength left in me to distract the manager.”

“Are ya sure?” Frank looked at U!Takeo who got up with his katana in his hand.

“I am, reporter.” as he buttons his shirt and coat with stains of blood on them. “In order to do that, re must have him facing towards you.”

Frank nodded, looking at the warrior as he limped and running towards the scene that’s unfolding before them. He paused and then whistled for their attention.

Engineer and P!Nikolai looked to see him as Steven was charging at them again, they hardly felt the impact when he rammed into their backs, making them fall down to the floor and ran for Captain Takeo who stood ready, closer and closer and closer the cart had caught up towards him.

The moment had come right before him and he stepped out of the way and, as he planned for the manager, he turned away from the cart to scream but he turned to yell at the young man with a command. “Now!”

The rifle was triggered, a noise rose to life, soon droplets of blood as well with Steven stumbled and made the weaponized cart fall and the unconscious woman fell out of it as well. Steven then limped over and grabbed one of the registers closest to him.

“My store…!” gasping with his blood pooling the ground. “My store…! Who will run my store if I’m gone!?”

One buck shot to the heart was critical, one quick way to kill a bear or a human mad man as Frank and others looked on Steven, unsure to help him, maybe out of fear that he would finish what he started.

“My food…? My sales…? And with them, my…” he coughed up blood that dripped onto the register with one arm dropped down. “Customers…?” before he adjusts his tie slightly before looking at the reader, strangely and says his last words.

“Have a nice daaay…” and fell to the ground. Silence was flooding the store-

“CLEAN UP!” Steven raised his head up, he shouted at someone that was non-existent, spooking the four in the process, “Register Six!” he then fell back down to the floor, finally bleeding out and gone.

The four walked over to Steven and inspected the handy work of Frank West, P!Nikolai was going to ask for his Olympia rifle back when he spotted the woman, laying unresponsive on the floor.

“Look!”

They all turn to look at the woman, Frank firstly thought it wasn’t a coincidence until it hits him: it’s the same lady from the Entrance Plaza as they went over to her. A groan from her and she rose up, the other three were a little tensed by this but Frank kneeled down as she only sat up right and held her forehead.

“Still with us in the land of the living?” he looked at her with a soft tone, “You are one tough cookie.” before he helped her up but she then pushed him away with a foul when she looked at him.

“Re are not here to hurt you,” U!Takeo tried to explain to the angry lady, “Re only wanted to help-” she then cuts him off. “I don’t need any help from the four of you! You don’t know a damn thing!”

“Heya, let’s not get off on the wrong foot here, ma’am-”

“It was you Americans on the ‘wrong foot’ here!” she spat out with hate, “You always looked after yourselves with fat meat!”

“Listen to us,” Nikolai stepped up to try to reason with the strange woman, “If it is what you hate, two of us beside the two men are foreigners as well and we had heard you are in need of medicine as well, maybe we can help each other.”

“He’s got a point there,” Frank added with little hope, “we’ll take you back to where-”

“I said I never wanted help! Americans like you are the ones that started all of this!” She is surprising and confusing them more and more at the same time, “You ruined Santa Cabeza and began this nightmare!”

She then turned without any more words and quickly walked out of there, leaving the group in confusion. Primis Nikolai watched her leave and out of sight, as he turned to look at Frank West and asked “What does she meant by “You ruined Santa Cabeza?””

“I don’t know but I think this has something to do with the zombies and the-”

“Wasps” Takeo interrupted with an annoyed tone, “I do believe they are related somehow.” as he looked down and something gleaming on the floor, he lowered his upper body and reached his hand out for the metal piece with a tag attached to it; a key.

On the tag itself read PHARMACY in capitalized letters, he turned and gave Frank the key in his hand as he said “Now let’s get rhat re came for.”

Engineer walked over to the doors with Nikolai, fearing that if there’s one mad man here then there could be more. He couldn’t blame them for that, the outbreak has put everyone on edge he thought as he goes over to them and with caution, he puts the key inside the slot and turns.

Click.

The sound gave way as the doors slowly opened for the group to enter freely. They looked around the hallway with shotgun rifles, a bat and a sword in their hands. They entered the check-in counter where the first aid is located.

Frank sagged it from it’s place and muttered “Let’s get the hell out of this store.” as Takeo nodded to acknowledge him.

Nikolai and Engineer are on the lookout for a horde of zombies but now with the information that they can use to their advantage as Takeo and Frank walk out of the check-in counter. Leaving the store without looking back except when the feeling of the undead and… something else was here. Watching them go.

*Something is following you…

Nikolai’s heart is pumping with fear and adrenaline, the text just below his chest wasn’t helping. He has to speak up for his group, just a peep. “Men…” was the first word that he could think of saying to the three, making them all turn to face him.

“I do not want to fear you all but Nikolai has the feeling that we are being followed.'' He informed them, Ultimis Takeo could sense the fret in his voice and much as he didn't like his Nikolai but he respected the Primis one better. The reason why is that he knew the battles and wars well, survival instinct and most importantly; he’s sober.

But something about the alternate version of the Russian had him on edge, if Nikolai was this tense up by sensing something threatening yet horrifying, whatever or whoever it was following them must be bad.

“You must be sensing that something is following us.” Takeo peeped up, he began to feel the same thing from the situation. Frank West seemed confused by this and spoke out “It could be just a feeling of paranoia, it could be nothing.”

“Frank West,” Engineer places his gloved hand on the photojournalist's shoulder, “Ever heard of the gut feeling when something ain’t right boy?” he spoke softly with the Frontier Justice resting on his shoulder. “If that’s the case, best keep your guard up.”

“He is right, we…” he muttered as his breath was lynched with worry, “We need to use it, somehow. We can’t lead it back to the security room.”

Frank seems to worry now but he keeps his cool as he thinks of a plan for this and half-remembers the zombies. “Well, since this town is infested with rotten walking corpses. We can just run through and let it deal with them while we leg it.”

“Rith weapons, re can be able to fight back if your plan does not go rell, West-san.” U!Takeo informed him, making him look at him with acknowledgement, Nikolai and Engineer stood by, already seeing a big horde of zombies ahead of them, seemingly unaware of their presence and stumbling by each other as others tripped.

“On three…”

“Da.”

“One… Two… Three!”

Without a word, they dashed towards the undead army as they began to notice. They ran in and began to fight their way through them. The other zombies behind them were shrieking in pain as well, a severed arm flew into Nikolai’s point of view and landed with a resounding thud just centimeters away from where he was when he was struggling to get the zombie away from him.

That confirms what he believed his guts to be the sense of dread; someone was following them. He now knows that and knows he can’t let them follow them back to where they were hiding, he can’t risk the summoning key falling into the wrongs. Much as he doesn’t want to admit that it was in Richtofen’s to begin with but still.

Primis Nikolai had mustered enough strength in him and pushed the rotten corpse off of him as it was met with a barrel at it’s temple and a bullet ripped through it.

“Frank!” he catches his attention, thrill and robustness in the fight for their very survival, “The wasp!”

Frank nodded and then he held the zombie with a bat holding it inches from him, rummaging as he didn’t notice one of them had grabbed onto his arm. “Hey, F*** off!* he shouted as he struggled for the untoten to let go of his forearm as it tried to bite into it but only getting the sleeve.

Sword came from the above out of the blue and two heads of the zombie rolled onto the floor, the face of Ultimis Takeo looking at Mr. West as he had taken care of the problem. “Thanks!” he yelled as he managed to get the jar with the same wasp in it.

Engineer is shooting one zombie after another as blood decorating his rusty brown overalls in drops as he yelled “Time to make an exit!” as Frank got ready to throw, a hatchet came out of nowhere and it struck Dell on the shoulder, making him yell in pain. Nikolai turned to look at what happened and he ran over to the injured Texan.

Engineer fell onto the floor, holding his right shoulder where the hatchet had struck him from behind as he muttered “Aww hell.” as he greeted his teeth, it was almost like the time back in 2Fort where BLU Scout had got him on the back with a medieval bat with spikes, yes, spikes on it. “Haven’t felt a hit like that since the Gravel War. I feel like I am going to pass out in a minute…” but his head rose up to meet the faces of the undead, he got a good look at them from up close and too personal for comfort.

Alarming and deathly faces with life-threatening injuries on their heads and faces, flesh and muscle revealing teeth and eyes ghostly white, empty of life and murky is almost soul-destroying thing he had to see. Corpses would eventually decay once the soul leaves the body.

“Uuugh…! More like any secon’!” he thought as he gazed at one face in horror. It reminds him of a song his father had sung after his mother had died. He almost swore that a woman was slinging this in his mind for anyone to hear.

Oh, Death

Won't you spare me over 'til another year?

Well what is this that I can't see

With icy hands takin' hold of me

Well I am Death, none can excell

I'll open the door to Heaven and Hell

“Well, this is it.” and he shut his eyes but what he heard next was glass shattering and the pained groans of the damned. He opened his eyes to see a familiar face, alive and well that helped him onto his feet.

No wealth, no land, no silver no gold

Nothing satisfies me but your soul

“Come on!” It was Frank who helped him onto his feet and managed to throw the jar at a horde that was surrounding him while he bled from the gash inflicted by the hatchet. Wobbled back on his feet, he held the injury with his shaking hand and cringed when he felt the warm blood pooling out of it.

“Ah gotta need a medic…!” he groaned in pain, Frank wanted to use the first aid but Dell had to stop him, “It’s for Brad! We’ll worry for mahself later.” as he is still holding the Frontier Justice in his other hand. A scowl on his pain purified on his face as he clanged onto the wound on his back.

When God is gone and the Devil takes hold

Who will have mercy on your soul?

Ultimis Takeo ran over to his side and helped the Engineer to stabilize his footing as he raised the rifle just beside Frank’s head as he jumped in surprise before a loud bang was heard.

The zombie that was coming towards Frank from behind fell down with a chunk of its head missing, brain matter and crimson pooling on the tiled floor.

Soon, four men were surrounding as a horde marched in, again, “There’s just so many!” Frank yelled in annoyance as he held the bat close to himself as he looked around for a way out.

Oh, I am Death.

I have come to take your soul.

Leave the body and leave it cold.

“この地獄を気に入れ..!” He raised his sword upright, pointing it at the several zombies on his way, he cannot use the power he had literally in his sleeves and as much as he does not want to use it around Frank West but he’s highly considering that option.

Nikolai was looking around but he was looking where he had gotten the feeling from, a figure that would confirm it and he had the feeling in his chest that they had hurt Dell to get them in a vulnerable position. He rather not know but he hoping, yes, hoping that the horde will kill them before they could.

My name is Death and the end is here...

They were ready, to fight or to die and be eaten trying to do so. Accepting their fate to be dinner for the walking dead but when the horde was getting closer, a hair ornament flew out of nowhere and struck one of the zombies’ forehead, making it fall backwards in a flash.

They were confused when they felt a figure run past them, wind following close and swiped the pin out of it’s skull. An Asian woman, dressed in Chinese WWII Medic uniform, white gloves, short unkempt raven hair as she clenched the ornament in her hand, blood stained the glove as she went to her another victim unfortunate enough to be in her line of sight.

It felt like the odds are even so they are able to go through the horde, guns blazing, beating, and stabbing too. Literally what they did with weapons as they had massacred their path through. They only stopped when Nikolai had stopped to turn to see if zombies or their stalker was following but much to his solace, whoever had thrown the hatchet was too busy slashing stumbling corpses surrounding them.

“We have to get away, right now!” The woman grabbed P!Nikolai by the forearm that snapped him out of his trance as he shook his head in bewilderment before running with them.

“That was insane.” the woman commented, out of breath as he ran. “Don’t mention it, come on, to the warehouse.” Frank West replied as he led them away from the scene fast.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hold still, this will help a little.” The woman was giving Dell a bottle of medical alcohol. She had a bag of bandages, bandages, medicine, medical equipment and almost an empty pack of cigarettes in it.

He had drunk it a little as he did not want to waste the whole bottle, he felt like she needed it to clean the blood off his back and gave it back to her as he felt his throat burn with that warm feeling, the beverage was numbing the pain so it worked a little.

“Ah do appreciate the timing of you coming out of nowhere to save our skins but we handled the aggressive negotiation with the lovely residents of Willamette.” he lightly joked to her, making the WWII Medic giggled while U!Takeo, P!Nikolai and Frank West are keeping watch for any undead corpses walking around and any objects falling from the above, the storeroom with that cautious error will make any worker aware, even with an initial zombie outbreak if survivors are not careful enough.

The dress shirt was more red with his blood, even staining the overalls, and an undershirt with the sleeves ripped a little on the edges. The woman soaked a rag with the same drink and then went behind to clean off the blood. He hissed in pain when he fit the rag making contact on the wound, she was being very gentle on the injury as she is focused on it.

“Mind if Ah ask ya a name, ma’am?” Dell had turned his head towards her with his blue eyes, his helmet on one of the crates and goggles on his forehead since he could hardly see sometimes. It was often a manner of a soft-spoken Texan and it’s both a gift and a curse from his father and mother.

“I am Jin Bai Chen.” the woman introduced as she ringgit the rag to get the red liquid fall onto the floor, coloring the concrete. “I am a medic and I had heard they called you Dell?”

“Dell Conagher, Miss Chen, mah friends call me Dell but with mah teammates call me “Engineer.” or “Engie.” so call me the latter.”

“It is nice to meet you Mr. Con-ugh-er?” she mispronounced the surname, “It’s going to take a while for me to pronounce it, Engineer.” she continued awkwardly. The Engineer lightly chuckled under his breath, trying his best to ignore the pain on his shoulder. “Ah had gotten that a lot when I’d first join the RED Team”

“You can say that again, Dell.” Frank had his arms crossed as he looked at the two, making note that the way they wore may seem a few decades apart. Jin’s Medic uniform is from the late 30’s to early 40’s and the Engineer’s 60’s two years away to the first years of 70’s.

Jin shook her head as she finished cleaning the wound, she gave the bottle to Dell and said “I think you may need this.” as he took it from her with little confusion but he felt like she was going to do what he believed she was going to do.

She rummaged through her bag as he looked at her over his shoulder with interest, she got out a surgical suture, he kind of jumped and drink the liquor as she had realized what he did and shook her head with a soft smile curled on her red lips.

“I had gotten reactions like that from the soldiers.” she had explained as she got the thread through the suture and gotten it ready for its use. “Them being scared by a tiny sewing needle or just wanted to risk letting a cut get infected?” he asked as he closed the bottle, he can feel the alcohol hit him a bit better now. “It could be both, still since I had survived a war and I had never thought I would participate in this one.”

Frank got the warrior’s attention and they both look over to the procedure, “Do you think he could use something to bite down on, Jin?” he asked out of curiosity, she simply shook her head and said “No, they don’t but unless their limbs needed to be amputated then I could consider it.” and she then pierced the skin with a small needle, a sharp pinch had reignited the fire on the right shoulder of the Engineer, he could feel it through his drunk haze but it was numbed enough for him to burly feel it.

He greets his teeth through the agony with his eyes screwed shut, “Damn…!” he muttered as he clenched his fist that rested on his knees. She was very careful piercing through the skin as thread had danced over the injury as it bled a little again.

“Do you like to come back with us?” Primis Nikolai offered as the Engineer, being brass as nails, had endured the pain as much as he could, Sergeant Belinski can see why he preferred the medicine the Medic had and would never have to go through this again until today.

She had finished sewing the skin, the thread over the cut and open, she cautioned “Dell,” making him look at her, “This next part will hurt a little but brace yourself.”

He nodded and braced himself for the worse, it’d slowly happened and he was recovering from the alcohol-induced numbness and it was a bad timing as she pulled the thread gently yet hard to fully close the cut, pulling the skin together.

The injury was fully closed and Jin lightly tapped his shoulder while he was going to open the bottle again with his hands due to the aching. “Can I trouble you with that?” she asked as she pointed at the same bottle. He snakingly gave it to her while Frank came over to them with concern and cringed to the scene that happened.

“It must’ve hurt like hell.” He had commented as he kneeled to Engineer as he nodded and said “It hurts but ya know the medics had given soldiers a drink in the civil war?” as he looked at Frank West. “The alcohol beverage helps numb the pain so they can’t feel the doctors sawing their legs off.” Engineer finished as he felt the rag on the injury after she had it closed with a surgical knot and dressed it with the medical alcohol to clean it again.

It hurts, yes but Dell doesn't complain when she finishes again, Jin rummages her bag and then gets bandages out and then begins to wrap around his shoulder and chest. Jin had done it again at least a few more times until Dell’s right shoulder and chest was covered in bandages.

She cut the bandage with a knife and tied it to secure it, she then lightly patted his back. “Alright, I am all done now.” as she got the undershirt for the Engineer. He placed it on and as well with his crimson and normal red dress shirt and then placed the straps of his overalls. It almost looks as good as new except the blood.

“Engineer, do you rhink you can still walk until we get to the office?” Takeo asked as he helped his teammate up onto his feet again. “I had been through something like this before so it’s nothing new to me, boy.” Engineer smiled as he placed the goggles over his eyes once again and the helmet back on his head.

He groaned in pain, holding his right shoulder to sooth the warm, hurtful feeling coming from the wound. Jin looked at Dell with concern.

“Do not rub it too much, Dell, it will rip the stitches.” she placed her hand on his shoulder, he looked at her and simply nodded. It’s best to be careful until he goes to the Medic while he is fighting for his life.

“Are there others with you?” she asked as she looked at the three remaining members. “There are.” Frank answered, “But I think you’ll fit in the World War II section because of Tak and a marine.”

“Wait, one of the marines is here?” she was astonished, “Yeah. a corporal I think.” he rolled his eyes, the marines often get the girls, he thought.

“Then take me to the office, right now.” she demanded, P!Nikolai obied and then cocked the rifle back before saying “We must go now, we must not keep Brad waiting longer than we already have wasted.”

When he said that, Frank West looked at his wristwatch to check the time.

10:48

“Shi…” he muttered before turning and then running, leading the way with four teammates back to the rooftop.

Ultimis Takeo had no idea why but Jin Bai Chen looked familiar to him, had he met her before… Well, meeting her again?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

September 19th, 2006

11:54

Brad is going to be just fine, thanks to Jesse and Shaw and Jin’s help. A hand placed on his forehead to check the temperature, only normal warmth so far. “Mr. Garrison is stabilized,” looking at Jessie over his shoulder, “He’ll be fine for now.”

Jessie sighed in relief as Jin was sitting down next to Brad, in case that she’s still needed. Shaw looked at her, “You have done enough for now, Miss Chen, go meet up with the others in the back please.” he said, Jin bowed and then went into the back, closing it behind her.

“Still, two men injured yet survived the odds.” Shaw muttered, as he looked at Frank West, “I cannot comprehend how you would manage that.” Frank simply shrugged and then crossed his arms. “Pretty much, Shaw.” he replied but Jessie noticed something on his dress shirt: a spot of blood.

“Frank, are you alright?” she asked, Stanton looked at Jessie and then towards Frank in confusion. He too noticed the blood spat as well. Frank looked at them confused when she said ”You’ve got blood on you.”

“Huh?”

Frank realized and looked at the blood, remembering what had happened earlier yet he was amazed how quickly he forgot about it. “Oh yeah, it must’ve come from the girl we have saved.”

“The girl?” Shaw was a bit taken aback, standing up on his feet to face the reporter, “Was she hurt or…?”

“She’s alright, professor.” Frank had stopped him, Jessie walked over to the two men with worry.

“Where is she?” she questioned as she adjusted her glasses. Frank looked down at the ground as he turned around. “We had offered to help but she took off, I kinda wished we would’ve convinced her otherwise.”

Shaw shocked his head before checking his watch, “I guess she doesn’t have time to decide to trust in others.” he rationized. Jessie agreed, “Stanton is right, you can’t blame her for running away from your good looks.” she teased, earning a nod from Frank West in return.

“Anyway, she was saying something about Santa Cabeza before she left.”

“Santa Cabeza?” Jessie asked, inquired as she looked at Frank West with Shaw raised an eyebrow but they had heard a noise, they all turned to face the storage room as Jessie walked over to the door as Shaw tried to do the same.

The door opened and the same old man, Dr. Barnaby, was on the floor awake and alarmed to see her, he crawled away from the entrance as Jessie maintained her composure with a little delay.

“Dr. Barnaby,” she politely said, “You’re awake.”

Shaw had once heard from his old friend, Alistair, that looks can kill. He had laughed about it but now he had the feeling that Scarlett’s father was right as he saw that look on the fellow professor’s face: disgusted, confused, and angry.

“Santa Cabeza…?!” he growled, finally finding the words to say to this new information. “I should’ve known this…! I thought everything about that village was erased and forgotten!” he snapped angrily, looking at the group with a look of kill, “You have planned to dispense justice now?!”

Stanton Shaw and Frank West were confused and taken aback from what Barnaby had said, Jessie kneeled down, “Calm down, Doctor,” she reassured him as she reached for his arm, “We’re only following orders, we have to protect you-”

Dr. Barnaby pushed her arms away and shouted “Protect?!” wrenching his arm away, “More like imprisoned!” he accused, pointing a finger at this monarchy.

“Doctor Barnaby, is it?” Shaw walked over to the confect, “as a fellow professor, you must’ve known what Santa Cabeza was.” As he kneeled down, the brace on his leg squeaked a little as Dr. Barnaby’s attention was gone to Shaw. “And I think that Jessie is right.”

“Of course,” she insisted, “If you want us to protect you, we need to know the truth. All of it.”

“Just help us here, talk to us.” Shaw urged but then they heard a click and a snapping sound, they turned to see Frank West holding up his camera as he was standing there, awkwardly.

Shaw was annoyed and unpleased as he shooed Frank back a bit, grabbed the doorknob and then pulled the door to a close. Frank raised his hands in the air and let them hit his sides with fixed and crossed.

“Fine!” he mumbled, “I will get my information somewhere else, thank you very much.” as he walked a bit, his attention turned to the monitors as he headed towards it with an idea already formed in his head.

“Maybe I can track down that woman again…” he muttered under his breath, looking at the screens as Jin, Diego and U!Takeo walked in the room, wanting to inspect what had happened.

“What had happened-” Diego started to say but Ultimis had to stop as he looked at the monitors as well, on one of the monitors, the woman from before came up on a motorcycle in front of the store, she then got off of the bike and then entered that same store.

“You intended to go after her.” Ultimis Takeo said as he clearly knew that’s what Frank West was going to do, he nodded and got the bat off the floor and headed out, turning to the two and said “Re rill be back, wait here.”

“Of course, Takeo.” Jin nodded as they watched them go out the door. Diego and Jin looked at each other and the latter said “Well, since you are new, senorita, would you like to know me?” with a smile that a woman will fall for.

Jin shook her head and giggled before turning and returning to the room, she had been introduced to the group and already one man that caught her interest was the Ultimis Tank Dempsey, she had knew one of the marines is here and yet, she had jokingly said he may be the last one. To him, it felt like it was back in the times of him killing wave upon wave of zombies and like Takeo, something familiar about this woman but he can’t tell why.

Jin walked towards Medic as he was making another medicine with blood, medicine, yellow water that came from a body, and electricity to power it. “Oh Jin,” Medic greeted the woman with a soft smile. “Have you come to know what I have been making?”

“No thank you, Doctor,” she answered, “I am curious on how the Engineer was doing now.”

Medic was disappointed, “Oh, Dell, he is on zhe roof vith Pyro and Corporal Dempzey I believe, on zhe heilpad. I would’ve be happy to tell you all about zhis healing medicine.”

“I would love to, Medic.” She smiled a little yet this German was almost like the Butcher she had heard from the Chinese Soldiers and Marines but she maintained a polite expression however, he’s the field medic so they should be safe with one.

She walked up the stairs and found them, with a makeshift campfire made from a trash can, broken bench pieces as the metal scraps of what was once a trash can to begin with was cut away to make it a form of a barrel.

Fire softly danced inside the green barrel as U!Dempsey fed it with wood he had broken from the benches as the Engineer was sitting close to it with Pyro by his side, holding an axe close to themself.

A scar left behind by the injury is visible on the back of his right shoulder as his back faces the entrance to the security office. A noticeable bruise on his left shoulder as the skin was darkened a little from something that was heavy while he carried it.

The Engineer was singing softly under his breath, maybe to lighten the mood of the situation they were put in by an unknown entity as he sang “The sky is clearing and the night has cried enough. The sun, he comes, the world to soften up. Rejoice-”

“Hello?”

Dell jumped out of his skin as Pyro and Dempsey were getting ready to fight but was relieved to see it’s Jin. “Jeaus Christ, Jin, don’t scare us like that!” Dempsey breathed in air from the jump of adrenaline.

“I am very sorry, I thought I could check up on the Engineer and see how he is doing.” She explained her reason for being up here, sitting down on one of the chairs they had pulled up here and looking at the fire.

U!Dempsey scratched the back of his head with little unease, walking over to the forth one at the end, settled beside the medic and muttered “still, it’s badass that you saved their skin.”

Jin simply shook her head a bit with a soft smile that made the Marine a bit flustered with her eyes closed, “I happened to be there when I had come to.”

Come to? The three surrounded her had turned their heads to look at her, has the same thing happened to her as well? “Let me guess,” Dempsey was the first one to question her story, “You blacked out when you were doing something?”

Jin only shook her head, “I don’t remember anything but I had remembered being put inside a capsule that had the numbers 935 and that was it.”

U!Dempsey had a flashback when she had recalled, looking at the fire as a memory came back to him.

Dempsey was thrashing left and right to break free from the Nazis before being shoved inside something metal and glass placed over him. He was pounding on the glass as he saw a familiar man looming over the mechanical coffin by his side with a white lab coat and a sinister smile. It was Richtofen. On the coat was the number 935.

The memory ended there as he grasped at his forehead with a groan, Jin looked concerned as she placed her hand on his shoulder before asking “Corporal, are you alright?”

Ultimis Dempsey looked at Jin with bewilderment yet relaxed a little, “I’m fine, alright?” he answered as he removed the hand from his head to let it hand in front of it, “I’d just expressed a flashback, that’s all.”

“What’s it about, soldier boy?” Engineer asked out of curiosity, looking at Ultimis Dempsey with Pyro who tilted their head. “Something similar to Jin’s, I was forced inside a tin can with a 935 doctor looking at me like a damn weirdo.”

Jin was surprised, no doubt that number had to be related to their amnesia that could be also related to the events of what’s happening they were in.

“How did you wake up?” it was the only question Dempsey could think about. “I had woken up in a store with a startled man, it’s no doubt I am in the U.S.A since he had answered that.” she had explained herself, “He had also explained that these zombies had taken over the town of Williamette. I didn’t believe him at first but when I saw the horde myself, I wanted to wake up from this nightmare.”

“It’s a reality we lived in,” Dempsey said as he looked at the evening skies with his hands resting on the back of his neck and his legs resting on the other. “I knew my way around a meatbag or two.” before looking at her with a smile. The way he smiled had dusted pink on her cheeks and hooked her hair back a little.

“The different kind is this reality is the parasite type of a zombie,” Engineer had added, “The zombies had been affected by the element from where we had come from and here, they were affected by parasites in the form of wasps. The stinging pests.”

Jin was confused, where did they come from? Engineer could see Jin’s expression and said “From our own realities, dimensions if you like to call.”

“I know that,” Jin said softly as she rubbed her arms, “I just didn’t think the same thing happened to you all as well.”

“Tell me about it.” Dempsey commented sarcastically, Jin looked at him and then back at the Engineer, “What happened before you came is a long story…”

6 notes · View notes