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nephiliminality · 3 months

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Bad Day at the Office

My first completed fic of 2024 is a cracky oneshot that happened because I was rewatching Lazarus Rising, thinking about all the times Castiel almost kills Dean, and thought 'hey, it could be fun to combine this with Mystery Spot'. And it was indeed fun. Here it is!

Rating T, 8.0k words. CW Major Character Death (temporary)

[Full version on AO3]

Excerpt

♫ you shook me all night long ♫

“I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

Castiel didn’t reply. He continued looking down at the small, sad patch of earth which marked the not-so-final resting place of Dean Winchester, and willed it to move, but the soil remained resolutely undisturbed. The grave’s occupant should have resurfaced by now. It was, all things considered, not an auspicious start. Beside him, Gabriel was being less than helpful.

“Could you not, perhaps, resurrect him on the surface?” the archangel suggested. “Six feet under is a big ask.”

“The orders were to raise him in place.”

“You can’t even take the soil out?”

“It’s not permitted.”

Gabriel eyed the scrubby grass that had grown over the divinely-mandated earth, frowning a little. “That seems a little sadistic.”

Castiel looked at him with an expression that only someone who had known him for millions of years might possibly recognise as secretive agreement, then looked back at the obstinately motionless grave. “Those are the orders.”

“Fine, fine,” Gabriel said airily. “Still, surely you can sneak in a little help. Maybe loosen up the dirt a bit, make sure the lid is easy to break? He’s a strong boy, very muscular, that’d probably do the trick.”

Castiel nodded – much as he hated to take the advice, the orders did have a little scope for interpretation, and it was definitely worth a try. He rolled up his metaphorical sleeves and started again.

♫ you shook me all night long ♫

A hand thrust through the soil, followed by another. Slowly and arduously, Dean Winchester dragged himself from the earth and collapsed panting on the grass.

Pleased with his success, Castiel watched as his human charge got his breath back and surveyed the blasted trees around him. It had taken some effort to arrange them appropriately, since trees are not naturally inclined to do as they are told, even with persuasion methods usually carried out by meteor impact, but Castiel believed in doing his job to the best of his ability, no matter how tedious.

“Show-off,” Gabriel needled, rather less of this persuasion. “Trying to impress, are we?”

“Signs and portents are traditional.”

“True, true. He certainly won’t doubt your power.” There was a hint of mockery in Gabriel’s voice – he didn’t seem to be taking this seriously.

“It is important that he doesn’t,” Castiel replied, mildly irked and determined not to show it. “He must show the proper respect. He has an important role to play.”

“So I gather.”

There was that mockery again. Castiel ruffled his feathers irritably, wondering (not for the first time) why the archangel was even here. He wasn’t supposed to be involved in the mission. As far as Castiel was aware, he wasn’t currently in contact with Heaven at all. He appeared to be following Castiel’s progress purely for his own entertainment, and so far, his input was remarkably unhelpful.

Irritating as he was, however, his presence was not completely unwelcome. Being on Earth alone would be worse. Castiel was unsure whether this part of the mission had been given to him because he had performed too well or because he had performed too badly, but it certainly felt like a punishment.

With Gabriel trailing in his wake like an unusually opinionated shadow, Castiel followed Dean along the highway until he reached a deserted fuel station, where the man quickly gained entry and located water. So far he was coping well with his return to the world. He had spent four months of Earth time in Hell, more than enough to deprive an average human of anything approaching sanity, but Dean was clearly an unusually resilient human. Castiel could see why he was important.

Thirst now quenched, Dean found a wash basin in the back of the building and began to bathe, as humans tended to do. He splashed a little water on his face and pulled up his shirt to stare at his bare chest in the mirror, clearly baffled at being alive and whole. There was no evidence whatsoever of the manner of his death or the months his body had lain in the ground afterwards. Nor should there be. Castiel had done an excellent job.

Technically all the orders required was that Dean’s body be restored to its approximate state before the Hellhound had torn into it, but Castiel had seen no reason to stop at ‘adequate’. Dean was destined to be Michael’s vessel and he should be at his best. The accumulated damage from the man’s short but eventful life had been cleared away to leave flawless skin, every hair and freckle carefully returned to its correct location, covering a figure that would have pleased the sculptors of antiquity. Dean had, in short, never been in finer shape. Castiel doubted Michael would appreciate the effort, but the effort had been made nevertheless, and he was proud of it.

While Castiel admired the results of his hard work, Dean carefully rolled up one sleeve, wincing a little. This revealed something that caused Castiel to stare for a rather different reason. Sitting prominently on Dean’s shoulder was a large patch of raw, blistered skin, an unmissable blemish which had definitely not been there before his soul was returned to his body. It looked suspiciously like a handprint.

Gabriel peered at the burn, then turned his attention back to Castiel. “How did he get that mark?” he asked. His curiosity was tinged with amusement, as if he already knew that the answer was going to be entertaining.

Castiel shuffled his wings awkwardly. He had left no such mark on Dean Winchester’s body, he would surely know if he had. It must have come from the soul. Some unexpected consequence of its retrieval from Hell perhaps. Or perhaps it was some quality of the soul itself. It had shone brightly to Castiel in that otherwise dark and hopeless realm, which was helpful for its retrieval, but perhaps that unknown quality had complicated its return to its body. Castiel wondered whether the mark would last, and then wondered why the idea appealed to him.

“It wasn’t intentional,” he mumbled.

There was a brief silence. Castiel waited for Gabriel’s mocking response, disconcerted by how long it was taking to arrive. Unaware of either of them, Dean returned to the front part of the building in search of food.

“Castiel?” Gabriel said at last, watching him with equal parts disbelief and glee. “Did you call dibs on the Michael Sword?”

Castiel frowned at him. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Of course you don’t,” Gabriel said dismissively, making a strange flapping gesture with his hand. “You need to get out more, Cassie. Enjoy the local colour.” He pointed both forefingers at Dean, who was still collecting provisions. “But maybe not this local colour. Intentional or not, Michael probably won’t appreciate your pawprints all over his property.”

Castiel twitched irritably. If Michael didn’t want anyone else touching his vessel, Michael should have gone and retrieved it himself. Several members of Castiel’s unit hadn’t returned from the mission to Hell, and if the archangel had been present, perhaps they would. Then again, perhaps not – Castiel was no general, but he at least tried to keep his soldiers alive. Michael considered them all expendable.

Castiel set the line of thought aside as dangerously close to insubordination; unfortunately Gabriel must have noticed, because he was looking smug. “Oh I agree,” he said cheerfully, stealing a small package labelled ‘Twinkies’ from a nearby shelf. “But you know how he is. Best not get in his way.”

Castiel responded with a vague gesture that Gabriel would hopefully read as agreement, but which had plausible deniability. Criticising one archangel to another would probably be unwise, even one who was currently AWOL and not on speaking terms with most of Heaven. Gabriel’s current loyalties were unknown, and his self-imposed exile could always change. For all Castiel knew, he could be a spy looking for insubordinate angels in need of correction. Insubordination was not something Heaven took lightly.

“What’s next on your agenda?” Gabriel asked. He didn't sound like he was spying, but then spies probably didn't. It would defeat the purpose.

Castiel returned his focus to the task in hand. He didn’t usually have this much trouble maintaining it – this mission had clearly been very disruptive. “I am to establish contact with the vessel.”

“Makes sense,” Gabriel nodded. “So what’s the plan for that?”

“The usual way should suffice.”

“Huh. After the thing with the trees I was expecting something a little more showy.” Gabriel made himself comfortable and tore open the box of ‘Twinkies’. He waved towards Dean in a casual and slightly patronising manner. “Off you go, then.”

Suppressing the urge to make a gesture that would definitely translate to an eyeroll if he were currently in a vessel himself, Castiel attempted to make contact with Dean. Doing so gave him a jolt of nervousness that was utterly inexplicable– he had made himself known to vessels many times before, after all, this part of the mission was completely routine.

At first there was no response. Castiel raised his voice a little, and several electronic devices in the room activated. Dean did notice those – he could hardly fail to notice them – but instead of responding with disbelief or fear or awestruck reverence, as vessels usually did, he began to ward the room against evil presences. Strange. Castiel raised his voice a little more, wondering why this wasn’t working when it always had before.

The extra volume was a mistake. Dean covered his ears in obvious pain, and then every window in the building shattered one after the other, sending the terrified human scrambling for cover – not quite successfully. A large shard of glass came down on his head and the resulting spray was definitely arterial. Castiel surveyed the mess with a growing sense of embarrassment and a hint of something not unlike guilt.

“Well, that was certainly showy.”

Castiel could feel Gabriel’s grin without even looking. He sighed and started again. This was going to be a long day.

#spn #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #my writing #writing #spn 4x01 #destiel

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my2phetaliaheadcanons · 1 year

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Hello! First of all i want to say that i adore your headcanons about the 2p's and your blog. It's my first time requesting, and altho I'm not new to the blog i must admit that i haven't been here in a while and i kind of forgot if you do or don't do the thing with naming the anons, if you do, feel free to call me ⭐ anon.

To summeraize it up, it's just that i didn't have any idea up until now but this one hit me like a shower thought.

So onto the question.

What about the 2p's and a very perceptive S/O?

Examples: The S/O caught onto their obssesion and schemings, or they saw through their manipulation, or they caught them stalking them, or maybe they somehow managed to escape them, they lead the yandere on a false trail while they escaped on another.

I mainly want to see the Allies, Romania and Poland, if you may.

Thank you, have a cookie🍪 and have a great day!

Of course, ⭐anon, and thanks for the cookie, compliments, and patience!! How did you know that I am a dessert junkie?

France: François is like an old, barn cat in that he’s done his work and now believes that he’s owed something easy. His observant Cher decided that wasn’t how it was going to which sly tricks and quick getaways. When the pattern repeats itself for the fifth time, François no longer puts his physical energy into the chase. Relying on the city’s cameras François begins to lay a series of snares. Each one is layered like hair-thin threads, so small that even Cher’s power of perception cannot catch them all. With each pulled off, two have gone unnoticed, until their combined power is stronger than steel cables. Leading to an easy capture for François.

America: A man with a temper like Allen’s doesn’t do well with an observant doll. Similar to what would happen with a professor darling, each escape would be like a tick on a detonation clock. The closer to zero that hands get, the more likely Allen is to become drastic, especially once his pride becomes damaged. His final tactic is the same no matter what, he or allow those around you to die.

Canada: Matt’s work with animals sets him up well with an observant darling. Both rely on their keen sense of awareness to survive in this world and in response, Matt first views each false trail he’s led down as just that. Someone struggling to survive. Unlike the others that chose more physically damaging methods, he doubles down on ways to build reliance on himself. Maple’s car breaks down or her window shatters, Matt makes sure that he’s the one that fixes it. It doesn’t matter if he’s punching a man’s lights out to take their uniform or finding Maple on the side of the road, he’ll be the one to do the repair. Sadly, if his gentle methods fail, then Matt will become harsh. Repairs are replaced with destruction, and gentle herding turns into a bruising grip on her forearm. This game won’t last forever, because at some point he will run her down. It will only take one slip, and she’s doomed.

England: Oliver would watch as Dearie slipped out of his fingers the first time. Tutting to himself as he replayed the days leading up to his failure. Mumbling about the notes left for him by his rabbits, when one thing pops back up in his mind. Dearie always could tell when she was being watched, meaning she was very observant. Like Allen, it’s a similar song to the Professor. He thinks it's cute until it's not. Her avoidance of his ‘gifts’ and duty to remain professional with him rubs Oliver wrong. By the game’s end, a deal is made with a creature of her nightmares. Dearie’s shrill screams show that her punishment is underway, and her silence means she’s almost in his arms.

Russia: Just like Oliver and Allen, Viktor has also dealt with a professor situation, and she was just as observant. He will not enjoy being outmaneuvered but does take note of what he learns. Slowly creating the perfect tactic to ensure no escape. As the plan commences and his darling runs, swerving like a serpent between the trees as his men give chase. All the while Viktor remains hidden and watches from strategically placed cameras like a wolverine in the trees. Waiting for his darling to sprint past in fear, only to be ambushed. Dragging into his stone chest, stuck forever with a blizzard-like man.

China: Centuries of success can only be achieved by observation. As she knew Jin was on her tail, so did he know Qin had that stubborn, little trait. For a while, Jin will allow her to feel as though he’s been outplayed. Repeatedly allowing her to escape and feel safe, only to repeat the cycle within a matter of hours. It takes a toll on her mental health as her observant nature allows her no rest due to the cycle he had forced her into and the unknown amount of people working under him. As her world became shaky from the lack of sleep and paranoia, her once beneficial trait worsens it. Until the world becomes dark and Jin can take his sleeping beauty home.

Romania: As a hunter, Nicodim would enjoy a perceptive lover. Something about the constant vigilance reminds him of a small creature. A simple, rabbit that thinks as long as its predator is in sight and several feet away that the danger has been managed. Though in reality, Nic is working to change the wide meadow to a dark, city alley. Eventually, she’ll be cornered and Nicodim will capture his prize, eager to dissect every side of his rabbit.

Poland: Piotr is already tired enough and a darlin of this caliber makes him more so. From the constant vigilance to the complex escape plans, this man feels the wariness from those actions deep in his bones as he slowly follows like a true persistent predator. As the chase progresses and her decisions to escape become more often, Piotr becomes annoyed. That annoyance quickly turns into irritation and with that comes aggression. Just like a frog in a pot, his harsher tactics of capture start off pretty soft with pitfalls, snares, and herding by his men. The passage of time brings with it crueler methods; rusty bear traps, home invasions, and the destruction of anything that makes her independent. If she’s perceptive enough to dodge even all of this, then Piotr’s final option is to appeal to his boss for a legal summons. At that point there is no way out, she’s finally cornered and captured. Forever stuck in his cold house, sleeping with the one source of constant warmth, Piotr.

#2p hetalia #2p headcanons #2p allies #2p america #2p china #2p canada #2p romania #2p russia #2p poland #2p england #2p france #2p yandere #yandere hetalia #yandere

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krafterwrites · 2 years

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Breaking Point

This fic was inspired by the awesome Egghog AU made by @themetalvirus, so thanks to them for inspiring me to make this. I took a few liberties from what the canon flow of the story seems to be based on what you’ve wrote so far, but I tried to portray the characters as well as I could, so I hope I did a good job of that. Anyways, the whole thing is below the cut (2038 Words)

Sonic was lying in his bed inside of Eggman's base, which had been his home for his entire life. He was sitting in there alone, having been kept up by his thoughts for what seemed like an eternity

He tried to fall asleep for a few more minutes to no avail, eventually ripping off his covers and climbing out of bed. He walked over to his nearby computer, which was easy to see from the glow of its screen, and logged into it after adjusting his eyes to light. From the home screen, Sonic accessed the tracking reports that showed the last known sightings of all of the members of the resistance who opposed his father, and checked where Amy had last been seen. Amy. Even just reading her name on that screen made him seethe

Turning away from the computer for a brief moment, Sonic looked over at the other two beds in the room, which were empty. Amy had always tried to talk him and his brothers out of working for Eggman whenever they fought, which was fairly often. He personally found it entertaining, and would pretend to go along with it until he would reveal his true intentions to see how she would react. It turns out, Sonic's brothers weren't acting like he was when they listened to what she was saying, and one after the other they both left their home behind

Sonic got jolted out of his thoughts when he noticed that he was gripping the edge of the large computer very hard, to the point where one of the corners was starting to jab him quite painfully. Now aware of what was going on, he released his grip and took another look at the computer, which was currently displaying the exact location where Amy had last been seen. The sighting was only a few minutes ago, so he was sure that he would be able to catch up to her there. He wasn't sure what he was actually going to do once he got there, but that didn't matter, all he wanted was to get revenge for what she had done

A quick run out of the large metal base and across the nighttime landscape later, Sonic came to a stop right in front of Amy, who pulled out her hammer upon seeing him

"It's a little late to be picking a fight, isn't it?" She asked sarcastically

"It's a little late to be going out for a walk, too," He replied, barely containing his contempt

"You know what I mean. Are you really here to just attack me again?"

The expression on Sonic's face, which was previously an angry but held together face that showed only a fraction of what he felt, shifted to a slight frown before he began to talk again

"No," He said, now in a completely different and seemingly upset tone. "You getting the other two to leave made me begin to think"

"You've done this before," Amy replied, completely monotone. "It's not going to work again"

"No, I really mean it this time. I've never been without them before, so that happening has really changed my view on things"

Amy began to lower her guard a little upon hearing this. She had been tricked many times in the past by Sonic, but she did realize that losing his brothers would probably make things different. She still wasn't going to completely trust him that easily though, so her skepticism continued

"How can I know that you really mean all of this?" She kept up her questions

"My brothers have both joined your side, and you let them without a problem, despite everything that they've done," He stated. "Are you really going to deny me that same opportunity just because I've made some mistakes in the past?"

"I... guess not"

"Thank you. Now, let's finally put an end to this"

Sonic extended his hand out in front of him, which Amy slowly and shakily mirrored until their hands were grabbing onto each other. She began to smile for a second, believing that he had finally changed his ways, until she began to feel a horrible pain in her hand. Sonic was trying to crush her hand with all of his force, and when she looked up at him so she could aim a hit with her hammer, she saw how his face had changed. His regretful looking eyes and frown were gone, and in their place was bared teeth and a piercing stare

Whenever Sonic tricked her in the past, he always looked amused and smug, like his constant betrayals of her trust were all just a fun game to him. These looks began to appear more malicious after she had convinced Silver to join the side of good, but there was still an element of being entertained and feeling superior. This time, though, there was nothing but pure hatred and spite

Amy tried to pull her gloved hand out of Sonic's ever tightening grip, but she was barely able to move at all before he began to run at speeds she could barely perceive. He continued running for a short time, before eventually grinding to an abrupt halt and slamming her onto the ground using the momentum he had gained

The harsh impact with the ground took out almost every bit of energy she had right away, and caused her to drop her weapon onto the ground. By the time she began trying to get up to continue the battle, Sonic had grabbed her hammer, and was standing above her while brandishing it

"Hahaha, I tricked you again!" He shouted "I won, I slammed you into the dirt, all because you're still stupid enough to think that your pathetic little tricks will work on me!"

"I should've known better..." Amy muttered to herself, sounding disappointed at what she'd done

"Yeah, you should've! You should have known that I'm never going to change, because I'm not like those weak willed traitors!" He admonished her. "But you still think that you can make me join you, and because of that, I'm able to get you to believe me anyways"

From her position on the ground, the pink hedgehog stared at Sonic, since it was all she could do. He couldn't tell what she was trying to convey by doing it, but what he could tell was that it was bothering him

"Stop looking at me like that or I'll crush you with your own hammer! In fact, maybe I should do it anyways, you would deserve it after what you did," He threatened

"Do it, then. It's not like I can stop you," Amy defiantly told him

Seemingly taken aback by her nonchalant response, Sonic froze for a couple of seconds, which resulted in what had just happened playing out again

"What's the hold up?" She asked. "I thought you wanted to crush me"

"I-I do! The reason I'm not is because... Because you deserve worse!" He told her

Throwing the heavy hammer to the side, Sonic walked closer to Amy and crouched down so that they were face to face

"You hurt me and my brothers in battle countless times, and then you manipulated them and took them away from our home, took them away from me," He began speaking. "Do you think one little beatdown is going to make up for all of that? No! I need to do what you did to them back twofold! I'll demolish you in every future battle, leave you just alive enough to keep on going and then do it all again. But before that, I'll pretend like I want to be redeemed, and you'll eat it up every time because that's what you want to happen. But it's never going to happen. Every time, I'll shatter your hopes and your body until I'm finally satisfied. And after that, you'll be nothing but a memory"

No words were spoken after that. Only a final glare was given, and then Sonic left, Piko-Piko Hammer in hand. He stomped back into the empty bedroom, and looked around it like he had before, not sure what to do after what had just happened. As the adrenaline pumping through him died down and his mind began to clear, something that he had just said earlier popped back into his now better functioning mind. While Amy was the one who had taken Shadow and Silver away, they had still fallen for everything she had said. They both made the choice to leave behind the home they'd known their whole lives, to leave their brother all on his own. Then he looked to the side and saw the hammer he was still hanging on to, and it became clear what was going to happen

The sounds of metal crunching and snapping bounced around the otherwise silent room as Sonic used Amy's stolen hammer to destroy every last possession of his two traitorous siblings. Beds, shelves, and many other items were all destroyed and ground into metal shards during his rampage. Wrecking everything didn't make him feel better like he thought it would, though, if anything he became even more mad for each object he destroyed. By the time he was pulverizing the last few items in Silver's portion of the room, he was letting out a guttural scream with each blow, and every muscle in his body was shaking with unfiltered rage

Eventually, there was only one last object from either of Sonic's brothers left, a framed photo of all three of them that previously resided on Silver's bedside table. He didn't notice it at first, but while he was pacing around the room to confirm that he had destroyed everything the two hedgehogs who formerly lived in it owned, his shoe bumped into the wooden frame

Looking down to see what he had bumped into, the three happy faces in the photo stared right at Sonic, who could faintly see a reflection of his current self in the glass. He couldn't crush it with the hammer because of how close he was, so he instead dropped the weapon and went down onto the ground to pick it up. He took a closer look at the photo once it was in his hands, and all of the anger that was inside of him began to evaporate from his body. For a second, all he felt was grief, and a yearning to return to the time in which the photo was taken

But then, all of his previous anger surged back into him. If they really had cared about him like they seemed to in that photo, they would never have left his side for their enemy, they must have never cared about him like that picture made it seem. His desire to destroy all the possessions of his brothers returned to him right after this thought dawned on him, even stronger than it had been before. Out of all the objects in the room, this one needed to be gotten rid of the most

Forgoing the hammer, Sonic began to crush the object with the hand he was already holding it in, shattering the glass and tearing both the wooden frame and the picture within. Splinters and glass shards stabbed through his glove and skin, but he didn't care. He powered through what felt like a hundred knives in his hand just so he could continue thoroughly destroying that wretched photograph, eventually bringing in his other hand as well when it became hard to move the one he had been using previously

After a few minutes of breaking the photograph and its frame into as many pieces as physically possible, Sonic looked around for a final time. Everything in the room except his belongings were utterly trashed, there was nothing more that he could do now. Nothing except lie on the ground in pain as it began to set in just how badly he had injured his hands in his blind rage

So Sonic laid there on the ground, surrounded by ruins of his own creation and slowly bleeding out from his hatred. He was in utter agony, but even worse than that, he was completely alone

#Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic Fanfic #Krafter Writes

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hermiones-amortentia · 3 years

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This is for people who think Ron and Hermione had no intellectual debates or Ron can't stimulate her intellectually. Here their intellectual debates in the books-

1. House elves

“They’re hats for house-elves,” she said briskly, now stuffing her books back into her bag. “I did them over the summer. I’m a really slow knitter without magic, but now I’m back at school I should be able to make lots more.”

“You’re leaving out hats for the house-elves?” said Ron slowly. “And you’re covering them up with rubbish first?”

“Yes,” said Hermione defiantly, swinging her bag onto her back.

“That’s not on,” said Ron angrily. “You’re trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You’re setting them free when they might not want to be free.”

Ron is the only one that confronts Hermione about SPEW and really engages into it (So that its clear: Hermione defends that the elves should be free at all costs, Ron says they should be aware and included in this choice = two points of view, both defended = intellectual debate)

2. Discussing the ministry

“It could be a frame-up!” Ron exclaimed excitedly. “No — listen!”

he went on, dropping his voice dramatically at the threatening look on Hermione’s face. “The Ministry suspects he’s one of Dumbledore’s lot so — I dunno — they lured him to the Ministry, and he wasn’t trying to get through a door at all! Maybe they’ve just made something up to get him!”

There was a pause while Harry and Hermione considered this.

Harry thought it seemed far-fetched; Hermione, on the other hand, looked rather impressed and said, “Do you know, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that were true.”

Ron =shows how it could have been a frame-up and presents evidence; Hermione =considers his side and changes her mind; they were discussing something and reached an agreement over facts = intellectual

3. In the creation of the DA, we see Harry behaving quite emotionally (understandable but this does not qualify, using your definition, as intellectual). Ron and Hermione make their case for why he should be the teacher and basically organize the entire thing themselves

“Let’s think,” he said, pulling a face like Goyle concentrating. “Uh . . .

first year — you saved the Stone from You-Know-Who.”

“But that was luck,” said Harry, “that wasn’t skil —”

“Second year,” Ron interrupted, “you killed the basilisk and destroyed Riddle.”

“Yeah, but if Fawkes hadn’t turned up I —”

“Third year,” said Ron, louder still, “you fought off about a hundred dementors at once —”

“Ron and I have been sounding out people who we thought might want to learn some proper Defense Against the Dark Arts, and there are a couple who seem interested. We’ve told them to meet us in Hogsmeade”

Hermione and Ron recruited and organized everything for the DA

4. Discussing Dumbledore and Snape

“I did think he might be a bit better this year,” said Hermione in a disappointed voice. “I mean . . . you know . . .” She looked carefully around; there were half a dozen empty seats on either side of them and nobody was passing the table. “. . . Now he’s in the Order and everything.”

“Poisonous toadstools don’t change their spots,” said Ron sagely.”

“Anyway, I’ve always thought Dumbledore was cracked trusting Snape, where’s the evidence he ever really stopped working for You-Know-Who?”

“I think Dumbledore’s probably got plenty of evidence”

5. Sirius death

They stayed together in the Hospital Wing for weeks and it can be correctly inferred that this was discussed given their behavior towards Harry

“Ron and Hermione left the hospital wing completely cured three days before the end of term. Hermione showed signs of wanting to talk about Sirius, but Ron tended to make hushing noises every time she mentioned his name”

6. Mad-Eye’s death and the 7 Potters mission

“Oh, Ron’s mum forgot that she asked Ginny and me to change the sheets yesterday,” said Hermione. She threw Numerology and Grammatica onto one pile and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts onto the other.

“We were just talking about Mad-Eye,” Ron told Harry.

7. Hermione’s parents and the Ghoul (they planned and prepared for the mission together)

“Didn’t realize that Ron and I know perfectly well what might happen if we come with you? Well, we do. Ron, show Harry what you’ve done.”

“Nah, he’s just eaten,” said Ron.

“Go on, he needs to know!”

“Oh, all right. Harry, come here.”

8. How to destroy Horcruxes

“Hang on,” said Ron, frowning. “The bit of soul in that diary was possessing Ginny, wasn’t it? How does that work, then?”

“While the magical container is still intact, the bit of soul inside it can flit in and out of someone if they get too close to the object. I don’t mean holding it for too long, it’s nothing to do with touching it,” she added before Ron could speak. “I mean close emotionally. Ginny poured her heart out into that diary, she made herself incredibly vulnerable. You’re in trouble if you get too fond of or dependent on the Horcrux.”

9. Hallows x Horcruxes

“Well, I don’t suppose it matters,” sighed Hermione. “Even if he was being honest, I never heard such a lot of nonsense in all my life.”

“Hang on, though,” said Ron. “The Chamber of Secrets was supposed to be a myth, wasn’t it?”

“But the Deathly Hallows can’t exist, Ron!”

“You keep saying that, but one of them can,” said Ron. “Harry’s Invisibility Cloak —”

10. Formulating a plan to keep Hermione safe

“Ron glanced at Hermione, then said, “What if purebloods and half-bloods swear a Muggle-born’s part of their family? I’ll tell everyone Hermione’s my cousin —”

Hermione covered Ron’s hand with hers and squeezed it.

“Thank you, Ron, but I couldn’t let you —”

“You won’t have a choice,” said Ron fiercely, gripping her hand back. “I’ll teach you my family tree so you can answer questions on it.

Hermione gave a shaky laugh.

“Ron, as we’re on the run with Harry Potter, the most wanted person in the country, I don’t think it matters. If I was going back to school it would be different. What’s Voldemort planning for Hogwarts?” she asked Lupin.”

11. Off page discussion

“What’s happened?” Ron asked apprehensively. He and Hermione had been poring over a sheaf of scribbled notes and hand-drawn maps that littered the end of the long kitchen table, but now they watched Harry as he strode toward them and threw down the newspaper on top of their scattered parchment.”

12. Off page (2)

“You can’t tell me you’ve stopped having funny dreams,” Hermione said now, “because Ron told me last night you were muttering in your sleep again. . . .”

Harry threw Ron a furious look. Ron had the grace to look ashamed of himself.

“You were only muttering a bit,” he mumbled apologetically.”

Yet another evidence of their connection and off-page discussions

“Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke, but Harry felt sure that they were looking at each other behind his back, communicating silently.”

Ron and Hermione have emotional AND intellectual discussions throughout the series. So if you think Ron can't stimulate her intellectually you havent read the books. 😊

#ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #harry james potter #harry potter #ginny weasley #luna lovegood #draco malfoy #ron×hermione #harry potter memes #harry potter marauders #harry potter fandom

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

Oh! I have a prompt. Post-series, Mickey and Carl: destructive due, but like juuuust this side of legal and definitely morally ambiguous. Extra points if Mickey is protective because family's family

Okay this is definitely not what you were expecting but I was having such a hard time thinking of something for them to do lol. Of course now that I've done it I have more logical ideas but too late.😅

“Fuck, get the fucking—”

“I’m gettin it, I’m gettin it!”

“Well get it faster, I’m bleeding the fuck out over here!”

Ian groaned at the loud voices coming from the kitchen, stirring awake from where he had been napping on the living room sofa.

“The fuck is going on?” he muttered, sitting up and wiping at his dry eyes. The voices in the other room had stopped, but were replaced by loud crashes and slamming drawers as someone searched for something and, apparently, didn’t find it quickly enough.

Ian pushed himself to his feet, letting the scratchy hand-made blanket slide to the floor, and wandered on stiff legs toward the noise.

When he got far enough to see into the kitchen, he stopped and rubbed his eyes again, just to make sure he wasn’t having some kind of weird dream.

“Mickey?” Ian asked, and his husband started, looking both surprised and guilty. Mickey sat at the kitchen table, clutching a raggedy old towel around one hand, a towel that was slowly turning red with seeping blood.

“Mickey, what happened?” Ian prodded, waking up enough to realize that this was not a normal thing for a Sunday evening. They had come by the house for a late lunch and stayed to hang out and play with Franny—how had Mickey ended up bleeding in the kitchen when Ian had left him just 30 minutes ago to shut his eyes for a spell?

“Nothin’, man, everything’s fine,” Mickey answered gruffly, not meeting Ian’s eyes. “Just had a little incident, it’s all good.”

“All good?” Ian repeated, voice rising. “Mickey, you’re bleeding!”

His husband just shrugged.

“I mean, yeah, but not that bad.”

Before Ian could tear into his husband for playing down his apparent injury, Carl was returning from the bathroom off the kitchen, first aid kit in one hand.

“Found it!” he cried, waving the thing around like a victory flag. “Let’s get you patched up before Ian…”

Carl trailed off, seeing that Ian was, in fact, already awake and aware.

“Before Ian what?” Ian himself asked lowly, and Carl glanced at Mickey before offering a too-casual shrug.

Ian sighed, rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes, and gestured to Carl.

“Give it here,” he ordered. “I don’t know what you two got up to, but at least let me fix it.”

Carl passed the first aid kit over without a word, throwing Mickey an apologetic glance. Ian just opened the box and set it on the table, digging through it for alcohol wipes and gauze, and sat in front of Mickey to unwind the towel from his hand.

“You promised me you’d stop doing stupid shit, you know,” Ian reminded his husband, and Mickey scowled.

“No, I promised I’d do less stupid shit,” he corrected, “and this wasn’t fuckin’ stupid.”

Ian raised an eyebrow at that claim, but Carl was ready to back Mickey up.

“It was so badass, Ian,” he gushed immediately. “You should’ve seen him!”

“Seen him do what?” Ian asked cautiously as Mickey avoided his gaze some more. Finally removing the last layer of the towel, Ian winced when he saw the cuts on Mickey’s hand. “Seen him slice himself up?” he added, but Carl shook his head.

“Nah, that happened after,” he said, then frowned. “Or during, I guess? But it wasn’t his fault, that thing had it out for him!”

Dare he ask? Ian wondered. Or, knowing his husband and his brother, perhaps the question should be dare he not?

Thing?” he made himself question, and Carl pounced on the opportunity to tell the full story. Or at least, the Carl version.

“Yeah, so there was this drone, right?” he started, and Ian was already feeling a groan coming on.

“A drone,” he said flatly, ignoring Mickey’s hiss as he wiped his hand clean.

“Yeah,” Carl went on, oblivious to Ian’s tone. “It’s been flying around here for days, always sneaking up on Debbie and Fran.”

“And did you report it?” Ian asked, already knowing the answer.

“The fuck would we do that for?” Mickey chimed in, and Ian rolled his eyes when Carl nodded his agreement.

“Carl, you’re a cop,” Ian said, exasperated.

“Yeah, but they don’t take shit like that seriously,” Carl defended, and well, Ian had to give him that. “But anyway, it showed up again just now, hovering around the pool while Franny was swimming, so we took it down.”

Ian let out a heavy breath, and closed his eyes.

“You took it down,” he said slowly. “Meaning you shot an unlicensed firearm, in the middle of the neighborhood, to destroy someone else’s personal property. And there’s probably video footage of you doing it.”

He reached for the gauze and started wrapping Mickey’s hand, tugging it just this side of too tight.

“Geez, fuckin’ relax, okay?” Mickey urged. “I didn’t use a gun, and I got it from behind. Besides, they were fuckin’ trespassing.”

“He’s right,” Carl agreed. “He got up on the roof outside our window, took it down with his knife once it was close enough.” Then Carl winced, and scratched at his head. “It just, uh, kind of caught his hand in the rotor when it went down?”

That explained the injuries, at least.

“Fine,” Ian relented, stroking a hand softly over the finished bandage and raising it to his lips for a brief kiss. “But if you ever do something like that again—”

The doorbell rang.

All three of them looked toward the front of the house, then at each other.

“Uh..” Carl voiced, and then they were all moving. Carl to throw the bloody rag in the bathroom and shut the door, Mickey to grab the knife that Ian now saw was sitting right there at the edge of the table, and Ian into the living room to answer the door.

Ian looked back once he got there, making sure Carl and Mickey were ready, and then opened the door with as casual an air as he could muster.

He wasn’t sure what he expected to see on the other side, but it wasn’t a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a thin-lipped expression.

“Uh, hi,” Ian greeted. “Can we help you?”

“You can,” the man said huffily. “I’m looking for—”

Mickey came up behind Ian, laying a steadying hand on his hip, and the man’s eyes went wide.

“You!” he hollered, pointing a shaking finger right in Mickey’s face.

“Me what?” Mickey grouched. “You got a problem, grandpa?”

“You killed my drone!” the man continued. Ian tensed, but Mickey just shrugged, unconcerned.

“So what?” he asked, not bothering to deny it.

“So I could have you arrested for destruction of property!” the man spit out, and Mickey laughed right in his face.

“Yeah right, man, try again,” he goaded. “You got no evidence.”

“I have footage,” the stranger hissed. “Of your face, when it fell.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” he asked. “What else you got footage of, huh? My sister?” He stepped around Ian, halfway through the door, and added lowly, “my underage niece?”

The man went white. “That footage is…it’s purely academic…I…I could…”

“What, you could what?” Mickey countered. “Get lost, man, and find a new hobby.”

He started to close the door, but the man shoved his foot in, wincing when the heavy wood hit it and bounced back.

“I saw your knife,” the man tried in a last ditch attempt. “You can’t have things like that in public, I could have you arrested for carrying a blade!”

“What, this one?” Mickey asked, taking the aforementioned knife out of his waistband and holding it out. The stranger shrank away from it, but Mickey held it out further.

“Go on, take it,” he urged. “And get out your ruler, asshole, ‘cause even if this weren’t private property, that thing’s within legal requirements for concealed carry.”

Ian finally interrupted, pulling Mickey back and taking his place in the doorway again.

“You heard the man,” he said to the stranger’s shocked face. “Sorry about your drone, but we have other things to worry about here.”

Then he slammed the door shut.

Ian stayed facing it for a moment, just breathing, before turning to look at his smug husband.

“That was the stupidest,” he started, stepping forward, “most harebrained—”

“Hottest?” Mickey suggested.

“Hottest,” Ian continued, then shook his head when he realized the trick. “How did you know you’d get away with all that, anyway?” he asked instead, and Carl spoke up from further in the house.

“Like you said, I’m a cop,” he cut in with a smirk. “And I don’t think that guy’ll bother us again, since he basically just admitted to spying on Fran.”

Ian blinked. “But we’re the only ones who heard that,” he pointed out, and Carl grinned wider as he showed them both his phone screen, where a recording app was paused.

“Single-party consent, bitch,” he said, and met Mickey’s high five easily.

Ian sighed again, and Mickey patted him on the shoulder in commiseration.

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Mickey said. “If I do stupid shit with your brother, I won’t go down for it.”

“Because he’s a cop?” Ian asked, and Mickey snorted, shaking his head.

“Nah,” he replied in an overdone stage-whisper. “Because he’d be easy to pin it on.”

Ian thought for a moment, watching Carl trip over the coffee table on his way back to the kitchen, then shrugged.

He couldn’t really argue with that either.

#daily speedwrite #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #carl gallagher #mickey and carl take on a peeping tom #tw: blood #this one is so weird lol #i'm sorry it's not serious at all #now I realize I should have had them like track down an evil ex or something instead that would have made more sense😂#maybe I'll do that another time #fanfic

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multiland · 3 years

Text

Mr. perfect.

pairing: idol!Joshua x reader

genre: angst

word count: 1.5K

summary: what do you do when the one who was always there to comfort you, is the one who now has broken you?

warnings: mentions of cheating, denial and heartbreak.

A/N: this sucks. I’m sorry.

When you first learned about love, you always tried to keep in mind that everything about it was ephemeral, that no matter how many happy endings you had heard about, there was no way someone could ever meet such expectations. To you, fairytales were nothing but that, a fictional scenario people created to give themselves hope, to try to find something good even when the so-called love they felt, hurt them more than any physical harm.

But then you met Joshua, and suddenly you found yourself believing in everything you had convinced yourself was nothing but a lie.

You met him on a Friday night at some fancy party your best friend had thrown. Being from a wealthy family, it was no surprise to you that you found some famous people there. You were nothing like them, but being attached to the hip to her since you were kids surely took you to some places you would’ve never thought you’d ever see.

Dressed in a skin-tight navy dress, you were minding your own business, playing with the martini in your hands as your eyes traveled across the enormous house. The music wasn’t the same kind people your age would put in the background, instead, there were some violinists and pianists playing live. You felt out of place, the fact that your friend had left your side to keep greeting people not helping at all.

And that’s when you saw him, walking through the door with some other guys in a beige tuxedo, black strands of hair hanging over his eyes and small silver piercings decorating his ears.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to him, as he stood there across the room with his hands in his pockets, clearly enjoying the music and focused on the musicians. That’s when somewhere along the lines his eyes had landed on you, the previously blank expression on his face turning into the smallest but sweetest smile for you, and you swore you had never seen a man that beautiful in your entire life.

You knew it was over for you as soon as those round and beautiful dark orbs made your heart go crazy, wanting to look away but not being able to. He had an instant power over you, and you didn’t even want it to be any different.

Somehow you exchanged numbers that night, and although you thought you would never see him again, he proved you otherwise when he started texting you the following days.

You started spending time together every now and then, going to some cafes or meeting somewhere more private. Knowing the reality of his situation wasn’t something easy, but you were soon so infatuated with him that you didn’t even think of saying no when he asked you out.

Being with an idol wasn’t what you had expected at all, but Joshua always made everything feel so safe, warm, and comfortable that everything seemed to be just so easy.

He was so attentive, caring, and loving that you, not even once, felt neglected. He called you every single night before going to sleep or messaged you in the mornings or during breaks.

If you ever felt bad, he always knew the right words to say, and even though you felt insecure about him being around beautiful women all the time, he was quick to ease your fears and make you believe there was no way in the world he would ever want someone who wasn’t you.

You felt wanted, beautiful, and loved. He was a prince, he was everything someone could have ever wanted. So gentle, sweet, always there for you no matter what.

He was the only one who was able to set your body aflame with a single touch, always feeling like you were flying whenever his arms wrapped around you and the smell of his cologne, so familiar, filled your nose and made you feel like everything would be okay.

The way he held your hand and kissed your knuckles when he drove, the way he always tucked strands of hair behind your ear, or the way he kissed you in the middle of saying something just because he couldn’t help but being so whipped for you, making you lose your mind with such a simple action.

His sweet, raspy voice in the mornings after he had spent the night; the way his pupils dilated whenever you wore one of his shirts with nothing underneath, the way he made love to you as soon as he went back home, loving you hard enough for you to feel the trace of his fingers and the taste of his mouth whenever he had to leave again. Fingers through his hair as his mouth swallowed your moans, fingertips digging on your burning skin, teeth sinking on the flesh as he took you to paradise.

The way you found relief in his lips, kissing like there was no tomorrow and feeling like you couldn't get enough of each other. His tongue making you delirious, electrifying every inch of your skin.

Everything that came out of his mouth was dripping with honey, because he never wanted to see you upset, because he was your serotonin, because he simply was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you were the same for him.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

That’s why you couldn’t process the words that were falling from his mouth that night, after a month of not seeing each other for his comeback and promotions, he had come to your house, but as soon as you met his gaze, you knew something was wrong.

But you never thought it’d be something so horrible.

He had appeared at your place to tell you he had kissed a female back dancer a week before.

“No.” You laughed humorlessly as you shook your head. “It’s impossible. That did not happen.”

His eyes were filled with hurt and remorse, the more he noticed your denial, the worse he felt.

“y/n… I- I’m so sorry… Fuck I’m sorry. I swear I love you. I’m such an asshole.”

“Joshua, please stop. This is not a funny joke.”

“How can you think I would joke with something like this?” He asked in frustration, running his fingers through his hair.

And you were well aware of it not being a joke in the slightest. The way you could feel cold sweat running down your spine and your stomach churn kept trying to pull your feet back to the ground. But you would try to trick the fate and desperately conjure the truth you wanted to take place.

“Because there’s no way you’d do something like that. You love me, right? You’ve done nothing but show me how much you do.”

Joshua swallowed, tears burning his eyes and threatening to fall.

“I do love you. More than anything.” He assured. “That’s why I’m here, that’s why I can’t stand the idea of what I did behind your back. I kissed someone else while you stayed home and gave me all of your trust.” He repeated. “I regret it every second because I know how much I just fucked up… But I can’t cope with the idea of you trying to dismiss it. I don’t deserve it.”

"Joshua"

He shook his head, stepping closer and grabbing your hands in his.

"Please, please don't give me a chance to stay by your side because I will not hesitate to take it and I don't deserve to be with someone like you." His voice was so sweet, so subtle despite of him saying something so devastating. His hand moved to tuck a strand of hair behind you ear like he always did, retreating as soon as the guilt attacked him again. "You're so beautiful, so smart, sweet and bright and I'm so, so in love with you. It kills me to know I just ruined everything with the woman I love the most in such a dumb way."

You noticed the way his eyes were getting watery, another thing that made you realize how real it was. You wanted to hate him and tell him how much of a dick he was, but nothing came out of your mouth. You just couldn't, although you knew you should have, you could not bring yourself to hate him.

“You- No, listen Joshua…” You trailed off, heart finally breaking in a million pieces as you tried your best to convince yourself that everything was nothing but a twisted dream. “I know you would never hurt me like that. You would never cheat on me. Why would you? That’s ridiculous! You know that I'd do anything for you, right? You know that I love you more than anything. We’ve always had this chemistry, this peaceful and beautiful relationship. You’ve never given me any reasons to be jealous or to feel insecure, someone like that wouldn’t go against his own preach.” You tried to reason, a bitter chuckle slipping from your lips as you wiped your tears “See, I know you’re just such a gentleman that you’d rather put the blame on your shoulders than say she was the one who took advantage of you and kissed you. You’re a gorgeous guy, it must be hard for people not to throw themselv-"

“Why are you trying so desperately to excuse my actions?" He interrupted you in distress. "Babe, I- I don’t deserve it. I was the one who kissed her. While we danced the atmosphere got tense, the adrenaline did not help, and I just had the impulse.” Joshua said lowly, the knot in his throat becoming thicker and making it hard for him to breathe. “I’m so sorry... Why can't you just blame me for what I did? Just tell me how much of a piece of shit I am, slap me, tell me you don't want to see me again. Call me a dickhead, the worst thing that happened to you, I'll take it all, because I fucked up.”

You forced yourself to step back, the air in your lungs slowly fading away as the void in your chest grew bigger.

“No... I- I can't... Because you would never do something so vile.” You smiled, not noticing the way your tears were already streaming down your cheeks. "You wouldn't throw all the beautiful things between us out of the window just to get your damn dick wet. Not when you told me so many times how you'd never want anyone else but me and I believed you because you looked me in the eyes."

Joshua pressed his eyes shut and took a deep, shaky breath as he stepped closer, but you stepped back.

"I do not want anyone else but you, but I stopped thinking and just let my primal self take control instead of considering what I got to lose."

"No!" You shouted. "You wouldn't! You're perfect!"

Joshua lowered his gaze to the floor, hands ballin into fists.

“I’m not perfect… I never was, I never will. No one is.” He whispered. "That's why I need to go before I keep hurting you. If you ask me to stay I will, and I can not let you accept me back."

And then you knew. The idea you had engraved in your head about love being a real fairytale was long gone, cause all it did was break, burn and end.

Your sweet boyfriend, the same who used to whisper how much he loved you against your lips, the same who washed your hair for you, the same who looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, was the same one who had stabbed you in the back.

Your lip quivered, and Joshua wanted desperately to wipe your tears away and hold you in his arms, but how could he? When he was the one who had hurt you in the first place, how could he ever fix up a heart he let down? He did not deserve to touch you ever again.

With a shaky breath, you forced the words out of your throat.

“That’s where the problem is, Joshua.” You said, voice cracking as his brows pulled together in confusion. “That’s why facing the truth will destroy every part of my being, that's why I will never be able to trust anyone again, that's why I don't want you to walk out the door. If you do, everything will be real, and the thing that would hurt the most is to realize all this time I stopped believing in my instincts, because I thought you were different, because I've always known perfection does not exist…" You explained, a small sob falling from your mouth and cutting you out before you continued. "But to me, you were perfect.”

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Text

50. In the end

Prompt used- slamming hand over others mouth to shut them up | secret relationship | too fluffy |

" kiss me on top of the world and if the world Wants to watch, they can enjoy the enjoy while it lasts "

Harry was tired. He was tired of pretending that it was alright, when it so wasn't. This wasn't how his eighth year, after years of fighting should have been. He was supposed to be free and at liberty of how he could be and who he should've been.

When they all sat in the Great hall having breakfast, Harry only wondered how strange it would be to just walk up to and sit next to his boyfriend, eat with him, feed him even . He hated that student's did that with whoever they wanted after the whole solidarity between house's to freely sit at whatever tables they wanted but, harry was sure an exception. It boiled him when he looked at other couple's sitting together, Holding hands, maybe even making out in a hallway, and harry was deprived of such pleasure. He was even denied of even talking to his boyfriend normally.

But harry wanted to hold on because shit was his relationship great, it was incredible. For the first time in his life, he felt noticed, felt something other than just wild curiousness, anger and grief, he felt loved and not like the I support you Harry, we're like your family harry, it was the I wanna kiss you till their lungs gave out kind of love and was it incredible.

He made plans after plans, tricks after tricks, did things after things only for it to be rejected by his secret boyfriend, claiming" they'll never let us be " and was he right. And yet here he was planning another plan to convince his beloved boyfriend to come clean, until his attention broke from walking to hearing a thud of Someone falling over near. Harry hurried to be at the scene, only to be met with Draco being surrounded by some first and second year watching Draco on ground.

" what the hell happened ?" Harry asked as he kneeled down to help Draco up on his shoulder

" pot- what- what- I don't need your help potter " Draco sneered, still however in tinge of pain

" malfoy, you're hurt. Just don't try to act I'm all independent, let me help-"

" I don't need your help, potter " Draco snapped lightly

Harry was half mad and even was about to drop back Draco, only if he hadn't groaned in his attempt to walk.

Harry rolled his eyes, hung his arm around his shoulder and helped him to the hospital Wing

" I said-"

" I know " harry snapped, Draco didn't try to further counteract much upon it, even he knew not to meddle with mad harry.

Once they had reached the hospital wing, harry had helped Draco upon the bed, waiting for madam pomfrey to come back

" we could've been caught Harry-"

" right because oh my god, I had your shoulder around my neck " harry rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front

" it's not that- the way you just wanted to help, I understand but-"

" okay that's enough Draco. I can't do this " harry sighed closing his eyes in mere frustration

" what do you mean you can't do this ?" Draco asked completely puzzled

" this- look- what we have is great, phenomenal even but I can't sit there and watch my boyfriend getting flirted over by someone else, or live under the shadows all the time because we two According to people don't belong together. I thought I could do this, this secret way but I can't and the reason is I don't want to. I don't want to live where I'm Afraid that if I come out and exclaim my love for my boyfriend people are going to hate me. I can't- I just- I want to be able to hold you hand publicly Draco not because I enjoy public display of affection but because you're my boyfriend and I have the right to hold your hand, publicly or not and people doesn't decide that for me. So either you live under the shadows Draco or not, that's your decision because I'm not going to "

Draco stared at harry mildly amazed at the little outburst. He was aware that it agitated Harry with the whole secret agenda of a relationship they had but he didn't know that Harry wanted to let go of it Because he couldn't remain private anymore.

" so- y- you're breaking up with me ?" Much to Draco's disappointment and his attempt to keep from Trembling, his voice came out slightly in a higher octave and rather cracked.

Harry sadly looked at Draco, pulling the chair next to his bed and holding Draco's hands " Merlin, no- or yes- I don't know. I just- I want you to know I Want you Draco, however I can't stay where everything is a secret and we are even forbidden to talk to.. I want you to understand that-"

" and I want you to understand the consequences " Draco lightly snapped

Harry exhaled, slowly leaving Draco's hands" then you care about the consequences Draco and I- I'll wait for you when you stop thinking of it " and with that Harry left the infirmary.

Yes, they partially broke, except Harry still sent him small cookies from the kitchen just how he liked but refused to meet Draco's eyes, even In secret.

That was until the news started to spread silently about Harry's current sexuality and how people really weren't surprised. Some maybe had bitched Harry behind his back, but it was sure harry really didn't care. He was happy with his coming out and was by far enjoying the little time in the boring sun of the lightness of the news.

Draco, however felt broken and guilty of not being able to give his boyfriend the simple pleasure of even smiling in public. He saw how Harry was happy to be out in open, but Draco could see how Harry wasn't half as thrilled as he should've been and somewhere Draco was at blame for their recent so called break up. It wasn't the same however, until Draco had caught up harry finding some book in the last aisle of the library before restricted section began.

Draco pondered whether he should go back, but he missed the way Harry kissed him and it had been entirely a week since that happened and Draco wanted to risk the world to feel it again.

Pretending to have been looking for something too, draco entered the last aisle, filled with distant silence and the sound of their breathing.

" harry" Draco finally after contemplating for five minutes spoke up

" malfoy" harry nodded, not moving his gaze from finding the book..

He hated being called malfoy, but he felt as though he deserved it "how are you doing ?"

Harry finally looked at Draco with a distant gaze before he turned to look for the book again " fine, thank you "

Draco breathed as he stepped closer to harry and with much hesitation wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, nuzzling his head onto Harry's shoulder from the back, giving him a small kiss over his exposed neck. Harry's stern composure quickly melted away only for a second, one second of enjoying the warmth before he became stern again

" malfo-"

" Draco " Draco corrected. Harry could be mad But he wasn't a heart of steel,

" Draco- what are you doing ?"

" trying to apologize "Draco muffled

" funny because I didn't hear you apologizing" harry scoffed as he remained still, his hands by his side, with an uncontrolled urge to hold Draco's.

" because you didn't let me- so- I'm gonna say now. I'm sorry, harry, would you forgive me ?"Draco pouted looking up from his lashed to the side of Harry's face

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply " fine " and he broke free of the hold

" what?" Draco offensively asked, almost snapped

" you asked for my forgiveness, I forgave you. Now If you'll excuse, I'm trying to find something " harry began searching for the book again.

" just like that ? Harry I apologized " Draco threw his arms in the sir

" and i accept your apology-"

" no you're no-"

" what do you want Draco? Kiss you and tell you that it's fine ? You didn't mention what you're apologizing for-"

" I'm apologizing for being an asshole and forcing you to keep us a secret even if you hate it "

" and does mean that you want to come out in open as boyfriend's?" Harry asked crossing his arms finally getting into one on one conversation with Draco

Draco looked at harry as he though Harry had asked for his kidney.

" see that's the problem !! You still don't want us to go public and I can't have that draco..I want you, I do, I really like you but not at the cost of only having you secretly " harry sighed as he subtracted some distance between them

Draco's jaw clenched as he chewed his cheeks " you think it's easy. Of course you do. You're the saviour of the wizarding world for the love of Merlin, people love you already. But have you even tried to give it as much of a thought that I'm still under probation of crimes I didn't commit only because I was on the dark side, because I'm an ex death eater, or the fact my father still have connections with murderers in the world to kill me if it ever gets out. It's easy for you to say harry, but me, it's not. People hate me and you don't have go through with it everyday, I have to. You think i like this, being in secret, fuck Harry no, I want to show the world that your ass is mine but I can't, because I don't want your death to be on my sake and only because I can't lose you. I want to kiss you and show it to the world as much as you but I can't. Because that's something I can't do " Draco's eyes almost welled with tears by the time he added " I don't want to be the reason people hate you Harry, I don't"

Harry immediately frowned as he walked further towards Draco until he was only few inches apart and held his arms " you can- you'll never lose me Draco. You can never be someone people will hate me for. I won't let that happen" harry sighed as he added " you're right, I- I understand and we can do this in secret. If that's what it is. So what if we can't be like the normal couple's, Holding hands under the tree or what if we can't, just go on a date under the stars, I can work with room of requirements, it's cozy anyways. I can't believe I was such a prat for this reason and you know what- I'm sorry for being a terrible boyfriend for not understanding you. I was just so crazed that I forgot that our differences still lie and even if we change, some people won't "

Harry shrugged, smiling lightly " do you forgive me Draco ?"

Draco wanted to say something, just something that meant screw the world, fuck what the world thinks, or something that was remotely related To I want to kiss you on the top of the world and the world can watch if they want but just as Draco tried to speak up, he's pressed against the back shelf lightly with Harry slamming his hand over Draco's lips to shut him up, it should not have been arousing, however it totally was as Draco watched harry trying to look behind Draco's head between the books to find if someone was coming their way.

"don't speak a word. Someone is here " harry Whispered In Draco's ear. It ran down a shiver over his back as he felt Harry's hand upon his waist and over his lips, catching him between his body and the shelf, and Draco only wondered how many times he'd like for that to happen..

" screw it " Draco didn't know he had said when Harry had momentarily taken his hands over his lips but he had

" screw what ?" Harry asked bemused

Draco looked over at harry's face desperately close to his own and without wasting so much of a second, Draco pulled harry closer by his sweater, slamming their lips together.

" screw secrecy" Draco mumbled against his lips, biting Harry's lips in desperation.

" what about everyone ?" Harry asked as he held onto Draco's waist to keep himself from collapsing, breaking away the kiss for a second

" I want to kiss you on top of the Eiffel tower and if the world watches, they can enjoy the show while it lasts " draco replied as he bored into Harry's eyes, filled with strange desire.

Harry chuckled before he pressed Draco further into the shelf, kissing the daylights out of him as though it was the last time he'd ever kiss him but as they say, make the first and the last's count, it was their first public display of affection and the world could watch the show while it lasted because In the end, it was them who ruled their world.

The 50 day physical touch prompt challenge ends as of today and I've been incredibly thankful for all the support. I've been writing for as long as I can remember but to feel this appreciated and noticed, I never thought I'd feel this way one day. When I even began writing these, it was so random that I wasn't even sure if anyone was going to read it, I didn't believe it until you people did and have remained from the beginning till the end. Ofc I'm not stopping writing prompts, I just had to be dramatic.

Here's to people who've remained with me since almost the beginning ( ignore the tags) - @thebusyfangirl @textrovert-01 @drarry-is-my-therapy @drarrycookie @cissa-bee @weirdvibeskid @kpoper13things @delphic04 @elenaxoxo22 @gnomiess @littlebodybigheartttt @drarrywords @dearly-devoted-dawdler @draco-lucious-potter @leeemon22 @scram1326 @km-shtworldstuff @goodluckandwaffles @knduniverse @unsuspicious-nobody @curious-fruitcake @mlundin8 @nin0tchka @smallfoy-drarry @kattarcherlife @hey-its-asp @saumzi @railmeharrypotter @havingaverydrarryday @hufflepuffheroine @sunflowerishdolphin @thecornerofbelu @iamactuallya-cat @lilthislilthat @harrypotterjelly

Dialogue prompt requests open

Day 49- 5 times Harry was a pain in the ass

#drarry prompt #drarry #drarry drabbles #drarry drabble challenge #drarry fluff #drarry fic rec #drarry ficlets #drarry fandom #drarry ficlet #drarry ao3 #drarry ask #drarry au #drarry stuff #drarry ship #harry x draco #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fic #harry potter fic

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

All Men Have Limits - III

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,500+

Previously on…

Bruce was having yet another night without sleep. It happened often. And similar to the rest of the family, he just learned to function on very few hours of sleep.

So, he decided to make his way down to the kitchen.

But as he walked down the long hallway of bedrooms, he noticed that Y/N’s door was open. He glanced inside to see that it was empty and her bed was still neatly made from this morning.

He looked down at this watch to see that it was almost 5AM.

A part of Bruce expected to find Y/N snacking or drinking coffee. But she wasn’t in the kitchen either.

Bruce sighed, realizing where she’d be and made his way down to the cave.

He expected to find Y/N with her eyes bloodshot and shoulders hunched over at the computers.

What he didn’t expect was to find Y/N passed out, slouched in the chair, knees in her chest and head balanced on the palm of her hand. How her elbow stayed propped up on the arm of the chair was beyond Bruce.

He smirked at the sight.

Perhaps she’d been spending too much time around the Wayne family. She was starting to adopt their bad habit of exhausting themselves.

Bruce knew she would be irritated if he moved her. But, honestly, he didn’t really care.

Carefully, Bruce slipped his arms behind her back – separating her from the chair – and then behind her knees, slowly lifting her into his arms.

Even though the movement was extremely smooth, Y/N still stirred.

“I was just taking a cat nap,” Y/N mumbled, but couldn’t even open her eyes to make the argument compelling. “I’m still working.”

“No, you’re not. Time to get some sleep.”

“Mmmm. Fine,” she slurred and tucked her head into his neck.

Bruce wasn’t sure if her mind even put together that it was him carrying her.

But he savored the closeness as he carried her out of the cave and up the stairs to the second floor of the manor.

When they got to her bedroom, Bruce put her down on the bed so softly, that she didn’t even feel it. Then he bent down to take off her shoes and unfolded the covers to tuck her in.

Just as Bruce reached the door.

Y/N woke up slightly and muttered, “Night, Bruce.”

His hand froze on the doorknob. It was so quiet that he wasn’t even sure if he had imagined it. But he couldn’t find the courage to turn and face her.

So he shut the door and let her sleep.

————

“Where’s Y/L/N?” Damian asked the table.

She usually ate breakfast with them.

“Still sleeping,” Bruce answered without looking up from the newspaper. “No one bother her today. She needs to rest,” that made him look up and give a warning look to Tim, Damian, and Dick.

Then Jason came stomping into the kitchen.

He grabbed a pastry and ate it standing up, getting crumbs all over the floor.

“Where’s ladylove?” He asked with his mouth so full that he looked like a chipmunk.

Bruce ignored him and looked back down at the paper.

But Dick frowned at him. “Don’t call her that.”

“What do you care?” Jason laughed.

Dick didn’t dignify the question with an answer. He just thrust his chair back and shoved Jason’s shoulder as he stormed past him.

“What’s his fucking deal?” Jason asked once he was out of ear shot.

“Watch your language,” Bruce warned with a glare from behind his paper.

Jason exhaled a laugh. “I’m not a kid. I also don’t live under your roof anymore.”

“And I consider that a gift,” Damian muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jason smacked the back of his head.

Damian flew out of his seat and lunged for him. “I will end you, Todd!”

“Maybe when you hit puberty, demon spawn.”

“Damian!” Bruce shouted to get his son’s attention. His son snapped to attention. But then Bruce’s tone was eerily calm when he continued with, “Control your anger.”

It was something they’d been working on since Damian arrived at the manor. Bruce guessed that Damian would always have a temper. But he needed to learn how to control it. Through time and practice, he got better.

Damian took in a deep breath, but still looked like he wanted to murder Jason.

“I will be training,” Damian announced through an irritated sigh before leaving.

Bruce glared at Jason. “Don’t push him.”

“He started it.”

“You claim you’re not a kid, so don’t act like one.”

“Speaking of kids…” Jason started with a smile.

Bruce swiftly stood up. “Don’t even try.”

Then he was gone as well, leaving just Jason and Tim.

“Well, it appears everyone is in a rather bad mood this morning,” Jason joked.

But there was no response from Tim.

“Are you sleeping with your eyes open?!?” Jason yelled.

That woke up Tim and he jumped. “Huh? What?”

————

Y/N would’ve slept the whole day if she hadn’t smelled the coffee and breakfast.

She winced as she woke up to see if her mind was playing tricks on her.

But on top of her nightstand sat a beautiful, antique tray with a full American breakfast on it, a cup of water, a giant mug of coffee, and a little vase with a tiny flower in it – a single, pink peonie.

Y/N rubbed her eyes awake with a shy smile.

Alfred was way sneakier than she realized if he could bring in a full tray like this and not even wake her up. She must be far more exhausted than she originally thought.

But then a piece of paper caught her eye. A note.

Y/N reached for it.

In the neatest handwriting Y/N had ever seen, she read:

“Perhaps you should take the day to relax. I apologize for my behavior last night.”

Y/N snorted at the word ‘behavior.’ Everything he had done last night was passive. It was more of an energy and tension than actual behavior. But Y/N had to give him credit for being aware of it. He had annoyed her last night, especially when Dick somehow took the fall for her own actions regarding her own life.

She ate the food at a disturbingly fast rate, not realizing how starved she’d felt until taking the first bite.

She would definitely miss Alfred’s cooking when she finally left Wayne Manor… whenever the hell that would be.

Y/N hoped it was sooner rather than later.

‘No, you don’t. Liar.’ A voice said inside her head.

Once Y/N had finished eating at light speed, she threw on a pair of baggy jeans and a cropped sweatshirt. She grabbed her coffee and carried it through the hallway.

She heard typing coming from Bruce’s office. He hadn’t used the room since she starting stay at the manor. So, her curiosity got the best of her and she leaned into the doorframe.

Bruce was wearing a navy polo that fit tight on his toned body. He was behind the desk, typing on the computer with his brow folded in concentration.

He immediately noticed her presence and looked up from his work.

“Hi,” she said shyly before she leaned her back into the doorframe and took a sip of coffee.

“Hi,” he smiled back.

“Thank you for the breakfast.”

Bruce leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “I can’t take credit for the actual cooking,” he admitted with a smirk.

“Oh, I know.” Then she looked around the study. “I was on my way to the cave when I heard you in here.”

Bruce frowned at that. “I thought you were going to take the day off.”

“I think you thought I was taking the day off.” Then she raised an eyebrow and glanced at all the work spread out on his desk. “Maybe you should take a break.”

“This is Wayne Enterprises, not my…nighttime…activities.”

Y/N shrugged and sipped more coffee. “Still work.”

Bruce rubbed his face. “Guess so.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Y/N walked into the room and didn’t break eye contact. “If you take the day off, so will I.”

She expected Bruce to immediately shoot down her offer.

But he was smirking as he considered her proposition.

“Deal,” he told her before standing up and walking out from behind the desk.

He got unnecessarily close, invading her space.

Bruce held out his hand.

Y/N grinned at the formal gesture, but shook his hand.

But when their hands gripped together, the gesture no longer felt formal. It felt intimate. Y/N’s grin fell when she acknowledged it.

“What did you have in mind?” Bruce asked. He put his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

If he felt the same intimacy as she had, he didn’t show it.

Y/N cleared her throat. “How about something simple? Maybe a walk?”

Bruce nodded slowly. “A walk sounds good.”

“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Y/N sassed.

He shook his head and almost rolled his eyes before gesturing to the door, silently telling her to go first.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was getting an informal tour of the grounds at Wayne Manor from the owner himself.

Y/N listened closely, genuinely finding all the history interesting. Bruce was surprisingly a good storyteller – even if he was more informative than colorful.

“I know you had a hard childhood. But it still must’ve been nice growing up in a place like this,” Y/N tried to tell him.

“I suppose so.”

He glanced at Y/N and found her giving him an encouraging look, as if she was silently begging him to say more, to share more.

But he left it at that.

“Damian is rather fond of animals. That’s why we updated the old outbuilding. He keeps his horses there…amongst other things.”

Y/N chuckled and nodded, “He was telling me about Batcow the other day.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate me telling you this, but I think Damian has enjoyed having you around – all the boys have.”

Y/N hummed and turned to fully face Bruce. “And what about you? Have you enjoyed having me around?”

“Wayne Manor is the safest place for you right now.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bruce.”

But he already knew that.

Y/N waited. Because she wasn’t going to let him ignore her question.

“Dick has taken quite a liking to you,” Bruce said quietly.

“Don’t change the subject,” Y/N snapped.

He opened his mouth to continue, but she cut him off.

“We’re not talking about me and Dick. We’re talking about me and you.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

Y/n took a step closer to him. “Why did you kiss me the other night?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Did you not want me to?”

“What does it matter?” Y/N sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I want to know what you’re thinking. I thought I put up walls. But you give me nothing, Bruce. Absolutely nothing. One second I think you see me as a nuisance, then the next you’re fucking kissing me.”

“You’re not a nuisance.”

“Oh, he speaks!” Y/N threw up her arms.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” He asked evenly.

Always calm and collected. Overly polite. Controlled. Closed off.

“Forget it,” Y/N breathed and started walking back to the manor.

But after she was a few yards away, she realized she wanted to say one last thing and turned back around.

“Not that it matters. But I did. I did want you to kiss me.”

“Then why did you run away?” Bruce asked.

“Because I knew you would do it eventually. And I was trying to protect myself.”

So much for a “day off.” When Y/N was upset, she turned to her work to take her mind off of things. Was it denial? Was it displacement? She didn’t like to dwell on it. And most of the time, there was no one in her life to call her out for it.

Y/N thought she was emotionally distant, but Bruce won that race by a landslide. And she found it infuriating.

It was interactions like the one she just had that made Y/N think everything Dick tried to tell her about how Bruce saw her was utter bullshit.

Y/N arrived to the cave with an energy she was definitely not expecting.

Damian and Dick were training on the lower level while Tim and Jason observed from the sides.

Y/N had seen footage of each of them fighting before. It was one of the research pieces she’d watched while investigating them before figuring out their identities. But seeing it in person was a completely different experience.

Dick was using his escrima sticks, while Damian had his katana.

Jason noticed her arrival and made his way over with a smirk.

“Was wondering when you’d wake up,” he greeted.

“Please tell me that’s a sword for training and not an actual blade,” Y/N asked nervously while her eyes followed the two dancing around each other. She could even hear the blade slicing through the air.

“Don’t worry. They won’t seriously hurt each other.” He had a little side smirk. “Especially since Dick is Damian’s favorite.”

Y/N looked at Jason. “I always assumed Bruce was his favorite.”

He shrugged. “Dick’s been a father to Damian far more than Bruce ever has.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. It caught her by surprise a bit.

“Can you fight?” Jason asked her.

Her eyes widened. “No. I don’t know how to do…anything. I did one of those boxing workout classes. I hated it. All the instructors are male models, and that’s their side hustle.”

“I can assure you that was not boxing,” Jason laughed. “Why haven’t asked one of us?”

Y/N shrugged. “Seems like a waste of your time.”

“No, it sounds like a fun time,” Jason corrected.

She laughed at that.

They both watched the two again.

A few moments went by before Y/N quietly added, “I have a gun. I don’t really know how to use it. But I thought it was necessary with my…line of work.”

Jason nodded slowly. “These pansies have a certain aversion to guns.” He looked down at her. “If you need me to show you a few basics, let me know.”

Y/N quickly looked at him. “T-Thank you.”

He laughed. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Jason Todd may have been labeled an anti-hero or even a criminal at one point. But deep down, he was still a Wayne. And even though he had the reputation of the bad boy, they all knew he was a sweetheart deep down. However, Y/N was now just seeing it.

Y/N jumped when Damian was slammed to the ground.

“Jesus,” she hissed.

“He’s fine,” Jason insisted.

But then he leaned closer and started pointing out certain moves to her.

“With Dick’s gymnastics background, he incorporates a lot more acrobatics and moves that require more flexibility. He’s good at improvisation. He also leans more toward taekwondo. But with his escrima sticks, he also uses arnis.”

He looked down to make sure he wasn’t boring Y/N before he continued.

“He almost moves like a dancer,” she thought aloud, proving she was interested and engaged.

“Exactly,” he nodded. “Whereas Damian is still a kid. It’s less about power and more about agility. Before he got here, he was trained to kill. He’s mastered the sword better than any of us – but don’t tell him I said that. Damian’s had to adjust his technique and turn it non-lethal.” He smirked, “Just think devil ninja and that pretty much sums it up.”

Y/N laughed.

“And Tim?” She asked.

“Tim leans towards Kobudo, which is an ancient style developed by the Japanese. He prefers to use a battle staff. He’s smaller, so his technique is very calculated and controlled. Every move he makes counts for something. He’s extremely observant and can read his opponents like a book. Dick tries to create his openings, while Tim waits for the exact right moment.”

“Smart,” Y/N commented.

Jason nodded in agreement.

She turned back to him. “And you? What’s your style?”

“Brutal,” a voice said behind them.

Y/N whipped around to see Bruce standing behind them with his arms crossed. He’d changed, and was now wearing a tank top and sweatpants. Clearly he came down with the intention to train as well.

Jason didn’t seem surprised nor did he acknowledge him, meaning he probably knew the moment Bruce had arrived. He just didn’t care to notice him outwardly.

“Wing chun. Heavy-weight boxing. Krav Maga,” Bruce continued as if he was just listing of stats. “Angry…” he shrugged, “sometimes reckless.”

Jason scoffed at that.

“And he can’t seem to get over his complex for guns,” Bruce finished.

Jason turned to him. He was just an inch or so taller than Bruce. But he looked like he was twice the width and his muscles were somehow even bigger.

“Should we give her a show, B?” Jason offered with amusement.

“We’re not a spectacle, Jason.”

Jason looked down to Y/N. “Such a party pooper this one.”

She smirked at his sass. Bruce was not in her good graces right now, so she would support any and all mocking of him.

Y/N hadn’t even looked at Bruce since he arrived. And now she was choosing it as a perfect time to finally make her way to her computers and away from him.

Jason didn’t miss the cold shoulder. “What did you do to piss off yet another woman?”

Bruce glared at him, and walked down to the training area with the boys.

Jason followed after him.

He looked back and forth between Bruce and up at Y/N, a plan developing in his head.

“$100 bucks Bruce can lay out Dick in two minutes,” Jason said loud enough that Y/N could hear him.

Tim and Damian shared a smirk.

Bruce and Dick glared at him.

“I’m not betting against that,” Damian announced.

Tim smiled. “But I will.”

Dick shook his head in submission, “Fine.”

Bruce needed the practice, even though he was aware Jason had ulterior motives with his request. So he just gave Dick a look of consent.

Y/N tried to ignore what was happening, even though Jason made it very clear for her. She heard the sound of fists and feet hitting skin. He heard their grunts of pain and exertion.

It wasn’t until she heard Dick torment Bruce with, “Come on, old man,” that Y/N couldn’t help but turn to watch them below the platform she worked on.

Dick’s teasing worked, but not in his favor.

Bruce no longer took it easy on him. Maybe that’s what Dick wanted, but he was now on the defense.

They were fighting hand to hand. No escrima sticks or gadgets. Just hand-to-hand combat.

Y/N could tell the that Dick was starting to get frustrated.

Bruce, however, seemed completely calm. He knew all of the boys’ fighting styles and taught them the majority of what they knew. There was a part of Bruce in all of them. It almost made for an unfair fight.

Their movements got faster and faster. Y/N was struggling to figure out what was even happening anymore.

But just when she was about to give up her observing and get back to work, Bruce managed to get a proper grip on Dick and flipped him over his shoulder.

Dick landed on his back hard. So hard, that Y/N heard the smack and the sound alone made her feel sick.

Y/N gasped, and put a hand in her mouth when the sound came out louder than she expected.

Jason, Tim, Damian, and even Dick glanced up at her.

But Bruce was staring down at his opponent.

“Your weight placement was off and you know how to get out of that hold,” Bruce lectured. “You know better.”

Dick glared up at him.

Bruce offered him a hand up, but Dick ignored it.

“I know,” Dick growled as he got to his feet.

“You’re letting yourself get frustrated. It’s causing your mistakes.”

“I said I know,” Dick snapped louder this time.

Before an argument could really start, Alfred made his presence known by clearing his throat.

All the boys looked up at him, as well.

“What is it?” Bruce asked.

“I was rather certain you’d forgotten. Seems I was right.” Alfred cleared his throat. “I came to remind you all that the annual gala for the Martha Foundation is tomorrow night at the manor.”

“Can’t we reschedule it,” Damian whined.

Bruce shook his head. “The Court of Owls is made of Gotham’s elite – many of who are invited. If we cancel, it will cause suspicion.”

“You can’t honestly think we should risk that with Y/N being here,” Dick called out, gesturing up towards Y/N.

Bruce and Dick had a silent conversation.

Y/N knew it was about her, so she did not appreciate being excluded.

“Oh, wow. Looks like one of my safe houses is finally more secure than this place,” Y/N spoke up melodramatically.

But she should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy to escape.

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

Next chapter is gonna be fun, guys. 😈 But let me know what you thought of this one.

#all men have limits #all men have limits part 3 #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #nightwing #nightwing x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne reader insert #batman #batman x reader #batfam #batboys #dick grayson x reader x bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader x dick grayson

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pikapeppa · 2 years

Note

Dearest Pika! If it pleases you, for DA day writing prompts: party banter between Fenris and Merril (maybe they, *gasp*, actually agreed on something?!)

Fenris? And Merrill? AGREE? CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. 😎😉

Pikapeppa's Dragon Age Day drabbles, prompt fill #3:

Fenris and Merrill agreeing about something. With a cameo from the ever-ridiculous Rynne Hawke! 😂 ~2600 words.

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

Fenris was slowly reading a book at his dining table when he heard a knock at the mansion door.

He looked up from his book in surprise. He was expecting Hawke and the others in about twenty minutes, certainly, but it wasn’t like Hawke to come this early. She showed up on time for him and was notoriously late for everyone else, but never was she early.

A little suspicious now, Fenris rose from the table and padded over to the door. When he opened it a crack, he was very surprised by his visitor.

“Hello!” Merrill said.

He frowned and opened the door a hair wider. “Why are you here?” he said.

Her eyes widened. “Oh no, did Hawke and the others leave already? Were you waiting just for me? I meant to be on time, but I spotted the strangest caterpillar along the way—”

Fenris held up a hand to stop her before she could get going on one of her odd tales. “Hawke and the others haven’t yet arrived,” he said. “They aren’t due for another twenty minutes. You’re early.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Early? Creators, that’s a relief! I thought I was an hour late. May I come inside, then?”

Fenris wilted slightly, but he had no good reason to say no. He had a reason, of course: namely, that he didn’t want to try and hold a conversation with Merrill for twenty minutes. But Hawke had recently asked him — with much flirting and joking, of course — to try to find some common ground with Merrill, and for Hawke’s sake, he’d reluctantly agreed.

He stepped back to let her in. “Come in.”

“Ma serannas!” she said brightly, and she slipped inside.

Resigned, he followed her as she traipsed over to the table. She peered at the book that he was reading, then looked up with wide eyes. “Storms of Temptation? Isn’t this a smutty book?”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “Is it? I wasn’t aware.”

Merrill tittered. “I suppose you’re only on page fifteen, so you wouldn’t know yet.”

He frowned. “I… no, nothing smutty has yet happened. Isabela didn’t…” He trailed off before he could even finish the thought.

He huffed and rubbed his forehead. “Of course it’s a smutty book. I borrowed it from Isabela.”

“Well, a book is still a book,” Merrill said brightly. “It’s still excellent practice. And maybe you can get some ideas from this book to spice things up with Hawke!”

Fenris balked at this. “Ideas to…? What makes you think that Hawke and I require inspiration to spice things up?” he demanded. He was a little bit worried now. Had Hawke told Merrill that she wanted to spice things up in the bedroom? No, Hawke wouldn’t do that; she knew that Fenris preferred to keep the details of their sex life as private as possible. But then why did Merrill think their sex life needed spicing up?

“I don’t think that,” Merrill said. “Why, do you need inspiration to spice things up? Because Isabela was telling me about this one trick—”

“No,” Fenris said loudly. “I don’t want to hear about any of Isabela’s tricks. Hawke and I are — we don’t need your help.”

Merrill’s eyes went wide once more. “I wasn’t offering to help. I just thought maybe this book—”

“We don’t need the help of this book, either,” Fenris snapped, and he shut the book. “We’re doing perfectly well with our own imaginations to sustain us.”

Merrill perked up. “That’s good! Good for you.”

He grunted and sat at the table. A moment later, Merrill sat beside him. “So, when you say you and Hawke use your imaginations—”

Fenris interrupted her. “I am not discussing this with you.”

She tutted and sat back in her chair. “All right, no need to get fussy. I’m only asking because you brought it up.”

“I didn’t — you started questioning my… my sexual prowess with Hawke!” he said defensively.

“I wasn’t questioning your — I wasn’t questioning that!” she said. “I was just wondering what kinds of things you imagine together! For example, when I’m bored, I like to imagine what it would be like to be a different animal.”

He stared at her. He must have heard her wrong. “A… different animal?”

“Yes,” she said. “Like a nug, maybe. Did you know that dark caves are their natural habitat? They live everywhere now, but dark caves are their favourite.” She eyed him thoughtfully. “I think you would be a good nug, since you like living in this dark mansion.”

He stared at her, uncertain if she was serious or taking the piss. “I don’t like living in the dark.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You don’t? Then why do you keep the windows filthy so no light can come in?”

“Because I don’t want to clean this house,” he retorted. He had never been inclined to clean this mansion ever since he’d taken residence in it. It was the former home of a magister, and even if it was Fenris’s house now for all intents and purposes, he hated the idea of cleaning a house that had once belonged to a filthy Tevinter mage.

Merrill tilted her head. “I could clean it for you.”

“No, thank you,” he said through gritted teeth.

She gave him a chiding look and leaned her elbow on the table. “Fenris, you know that living in dirty places can make you sick, don’t you?”

“I know that,” he said testily. “I don’t need your nagging. Besides, who are you to talk about living in dirty places? You Dalish literally live in the dirt and grass.”

She pursed her lips. “Forest dirt is not the same as being dirty. And I don’t like it when you talk about my people so unkindly.”

“I don’t like it when you pick on me for not wanting to slave on my hands and knees to clean this damned house!” he snapped.

Her face went slack with dismay. “Oh. But — Fenris, that’s not what I—”

“Enough,” he said roughly. “I don’t wish to speak further of this.”

To his surprise, Merrill actually stopped talking. She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs, and Fenris folded his arms and stared sullenly at the opposite wall. As the awkward silence ticked on, however, he began to feel not only awkward, but guilty.

Hawke had asked him to make an effort with Merrill, and in the space of just a few minutes, he’d ended up jumping down her throat. He genuinely didn’t mean for this to happen every time he spoke to Merrill. It was just… there was something about the way she spoke to him or treated him that made him feel defensive, like she was pitying him for not being Dalish or for being a slave, and he hated the thought that someone like Merrill pitied him. She was a blood mage, for the Maker’s sake. She could turn into an abomination at any moment, so who was she to pity him?

No, he told himself. Do not start thinking about that now. He forced himself to push away the thoughts of Merrill’s blood magic and focused instead on thoughts of Hawke: her broad and loving smile, the sparkle in her honey-amber eyes, the way she’d batted her eyelashes at him and petted his chest as she asked him to try to make a bit of an effort to meet Merrill halfway…

He sighed. Fine, he thought grumpily. I will try.

He cast around for an innocuous topic of conversation — something completely neutral that couldn’t devolve into a discussion of magic or politics or the social standing of elves. Finally, at last, he lit upon a topic.

“So,” he said slowly. “Are you a cat person or a dog person?”

Merrill sat forward. “Pardon? What do you mean?”

He shrugged a little bad-temperedly. “You know what I mean. Do you prefer cats or dogs?”

“Oh! I — well, I like them both for different reasons,” she said earnestly. “Cats are clever and sneaky, but they can also be very friendly sometimes. And dogs are — well, they bark a lot and sometimes they try to nip my ankles, but they’re also very friendly sometimes. I don’t think I could pick one or the other.”

This didn’t entirely surprise him, but the conversation was neutral and they weren’t arguing, so he might as well continue it. “Most people have a strong preference for one over the other.”

“Like Anders, you mean?” she said drolly. “I think everyone in Kirkwall knows that he prefers cats, even though he’s a dog person.”

Fenris huffed. “Yes, like…” He frowned at her. “Wait. What do you mean, he’s a dog person?”

She shrugged. “You know, he’s a dog person. He’s a person who’s more like a dog than a cat.”

Fenris frowned. “What are you talking about? He is not more like a dog.”

“Of course he is!” Merrill said. “He’s friendly to most people — not you and me, of course, but to other people — and he’s extremely loyal to Hawke. That’s why he’s a dog person.”

Fenris pursed his lips. He didn’t like being reminded of Anders’ ongoing unrequited love for Hawke. “That’s not typically what people mean when they talk about being cat people or dog people.”

She tilted her head. “Isn’t it? What do they usually mean?”

Fenris shrugged. “It simply refers to whether a person prefers cats or dogs.”

She blinked at him. Then she frowned. “I don’t think that’s right.”

He eyed her in bemusement. “It’s not a matter of right or wrong. It is simply a fact.”

“I disagree,” Merrill declared. “I think that it should mean whether a person is more like a dog or a cat.”

Fenris was genuinely nonplussed that this conversation was becoming at all a matter of disagreement. “Well, it does, in some ways,” he said blankly. “Your choice of cats or dogs usually reflects on some traits of your personality.”

“Not for Anders,” Merrill insisted. “He’s definitely a dog person even though he prefers cats. And you’re a cat person even though you prefer dogs.”

“I — what?” Fenris protested. “I am not a cat person.”

She chuckled. “Of course you are! You’re prickly and aloof with most people. And you hiss and scratch anyone who touches you unless it’s Hawke.”

“That’s unfair,” he protested.

“Is it, though?” she said shrewdly.

He scowled at her, then exhaled and scratched the back of his neck. “I suppose you’re not… entirely incorrect.”

“See?” Merrill said. “You’re a cat person even though you prefer dogs.”

Fenris grunted, but he could see her point. Then he gave her a suspicious look. “How do you know I prefer dogs? I didn’t say that I did.”

“You didn’t have to,” Merrill said. “You ignore cats when we’re walking around in Kirkwall, but you love Toby.”

Fenris relaxed at the mention of Hawke’s mabari. “Yes, that’s true. I am very fond of Toby. But he is just one mabari. That doesn’t mean I am fond of all dogs.”

“One dog is enough,” Merrill said. “Especially if it’s Toby. He’s the smartest mabari I’ve ever met!”

Fenris smiled faintly. “He is an extremely intelligent animal.”

“He really is!” Merrill exclaimed. “You know that one trick he can do where he stands up and takes a few steps on his back feet like a person?”

Fenris chuckled. “Of course. Hawke is very proud of that trick.”

“She should be,” Merrill said. “Toby learned how to do that in a single day!”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “He did? That’s impressive.”

Merrill giggled and nodded, and Fenris unfolded his arms. “Do you know the history of the mabari?”

Her eyes widened. “No! Will you tell me?”

Fenris nodded. “The breed originated in Tevinter. The magisters bred them, in fact. It’s said that the mabari defected during the Imperium’s invasion of Ferelden.” He shrugged. “Merely a tale, but I rather like the idea that they found barbarians more palatable than the mages.”

Merrill rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh Fenris, of course you would. What about Fereldan mages like Hawke, then? Wouldn’t the mabari have been confused about them?”

Fenris shook his head. “Mabari are too intelligent. They know how to distinguish evil mages from those who are good.”

Merrill propped her chin on her fists. “So you do think that mages can be good? Other than Hawke, I mean?”

He gave her a wry look. “This was going well. Don’t spoil it.”

Merrill chuckled. Then there was rap at the door. A moment later, Hawke stepped inside with Varric and Sebastian in her wake.

“Good morning, beautiful people!” she announced. “Ooh, this is cozy. Are we interrupting a very important discussion?” She bounced over to the table and seated herself in Fenris’s lap, then draped her arms around his neck. “What are my two favourite elves in the entire world talking about today?”

Fenris smirked at Merrill. “Dog person?” he said.

She laughed. “Definitely a dog person.”

Hawke’s beautiful coppery eyes went wide. “Who, me? Were you talking about me all this time, then? I’m so flattered!” She smiled at Varric and Sebastian. “Did you hear that, boys? They were talking about me.”

Sebastian gave her a chiding look. “Everyone is always talking about you, Hawke.”

“Including you?” she asked.

He blinked. “Well, yes, sometimes.”

She batted her eyelashes at him and pressed a hand to her chest. “Why, Sebastian! I never knew you harboured such feelings for me. I think we should pop back over to the Chantry so you can do a little prayer or two.”

“Feelings for—? I don’t harbour feelings for you!” Sebastian protested. “You and Fenris are together.”

She grinned salaciously. “So you would harbour feelings for me if I wasn’t with Fenris?”

Sebastian spluttered, and Varric chuckled and patted his elbow. “Calm down, Choir Boy, she’s just yanking your chain.”

“And what a chain it is,” Hawke purred.

Fenris huffed and patted her hip. “Enough, Hawke. Let’s be going.”

She pouted playfully at him as she rose to her feet. “Oh Fenris, don’t you worry. Your chain is the longest and thickest of them all.”

“Hawke!” Merrill exclaimed. “It’s unkind to talk about chains to Fenris. You know he was a…” She wilted. “Oh dear. I’ve missed something dirty, haven’t I?”

Varric and Hawke laughed and even Fenris smirked, and Sebastian cleared his throat and made for the door. “Come on, everyone, I thought we were meant to be somewhere…”

They trooped out of Fenris’s mansion together. Hawke draped her arm around Varric’s shoulders as she teased Sebastian about his apparent crush on her, and Fenris gazed fondly at her back as he and Merrill followed close behind.

Merrill hummed softly to herself as they walked, and Fenris shot her a sideways glance. “What about you, then? If we’re going by your definition, are you a dog person or a cat person?”

She waved her hands. “No no, that’s not how it works. I told you which one you are. You have to tell me.”

He eyed her thoughtfully before replying. “Neither. You’re a bird person.”

“A bird person?” she exclaimed.

He nodded. “You flit around from place to place doing strange things, and people believe you’re flighty. That’s when you swoop in and peck out somebody’s eyes.”

Merrill’s jaw dropped. Then she broke into tinkling laughter. “Fenris! That’s almost nice coming from you!”

He huffed in amusement as they followed Hawke and the others through Hightown. He and Merrill would never be friends; there were too many differences between them that neither of them could compromise about. But perhaps they could stand to be a little friendlier at times.

Perhaps, Fenris thought, Merrill wasn’t all that bad after all.

#fenris #merrill #rynne hawke #varric tethras #sebastian vael #fenhawke #dragon age day #dragon age day 2021 #da day #d4 day #pikapeppa writes

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youryanderedaddy · 3 years

Text

Yandere! Butler x Princess!reader

tw: female reader, obsessive/possessive behaviour, provocative behaviour (reader), implied non - con, silght self - hate (situational)

Maybe you weren't the most mature among your siblings - you weren't the smartest one, the strongest one or even the most elegant one and on top of that you were the youngest child. The princess in the shadows, the cliche old as time of the heir last to the throne, forgotten and neglected by everyone. Except for him.

Perhaps you had done something wrong this time - everyone called you spoilt, ungrateful, out of line before, but now they wouldn't even come to visit you, leaving you all alone with your thoughts. You soon came to the conclusion that no matter how annoying you had been in the past weeks, you didn't deserve this sort of punishment. You hadn't seen your family for a long time now and you were starting to miss them. Your butler had almost taken the role of a caregiver, bringing you food, lecturing you and informing you of everything happening outside of your small pink room. It was frustrating, infuriating - you weren't a child anymore yet you were treated like one. You were sure it was one of your father's doings, no one else would be cruel enough to put you under home arrest - you were royalty after all.

"Is it because of what I said to the Nordan prince on the Royal supper last month?" You asked Leo while he was folding your white shirts for the third time today. You briefly recalled telling the foreigner to fuck off when he tried to kiss your hand, absolutely creeped out by his flirty behavior. But the butler simply shook his head without lifting his gaze off the clothes and kept working.

"Is it because I tried to bring my baby tiger to the spring ball?" You tried to guess again, looking through your memories for all the little tricks you had pulled these months. You never thought of yourself as a troublemaker but your parents usually pointed otherwise. The butler parted his lips in a slight smile and looked straight at you with his deep piercing eyes, unnaturally warm despite their cold gray colour.

"I can't share this sort of information with you, My lady." He replied softly and discreetly fixed his glove - but you noticed anyways. The man never hesitated to notify you of the latest trends and gossip from the High Court, but became so secretive when it came to your family and their decisions. You didn't want to take it personally as you knew well that a part of his job was to be cautious and careful with sensitive information - but this involved you directly and you desperately needed to know why you were forbidden from leaving your room.

After a few long minutes the boredom took over and you signed dramatically, laying down on the soft puffy white sheets, embroidered with golden and red string.

"I want to do it." You admitted loudly, stretching your arms to the side. No one of importance could hear so you didn't care about manners or decency. "Find me a lover." You ordered firmly, staring at the silent man across the bed. Some twisted part of you wished to see him flustered, red-faced at your provocative request, but surprisingly, this wasn't the case.

Leo's expression remained strict and professional, his demeanor - perfectly elegant. The only hint that he had heard your command was him slowly approaching you, eyes set on your frame.

"You have never asked for such a thing before, My lady." He pronounced clearly, now standing right in front of you. The man was so close you could make out the golden buttons on his black classic coat and the bitter disappointment in his pupils. "Please, remember your position." He continued, his voice breaking out of its learned monotone robotic tone for a single moment, but the words were still painfully similar to the ones you used to hear by your father back in the day when he scolded for doing what all the normal peasant kids were doing.

"I don't care." You spat out with poison you weren't aware of - maybe the royal life wasn't for you after all. Not that you had a choice in the matter. "I want to be held and pleasured until down by someone skilled. Make sure to find a pretty one." You added lastly, giving the butler a sly smile and running your tongue along your lips for a better image of what was to come despite all the warnings he could give you. You were tired of being denied the simple joys life could offer just because of your status. And at the end of the day the man was nothing more than a mouthy subordinate with too much arrogance and free time on his hands. He couldn't stop you, not really.

"I am afraid I cannot do that, princess." Leo stated in a stern voice, his gloved hand touching your face gently, in a barely noticeable way. "I can't let ordinary people taint your beautiful soft skin with their filthiness. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if someone else ruined your purity, My lady." The butler whispered, his finger moving along your cheekbones down to your hot neck. His words were so bold and daring, but there was something about the way he was looking at you that made you determined to put him in his place - even if his warm touch made you sick to your core. You couldn't raise the white flag just yet.

"Then would you corrupt me?" You snapped back at him, ready to perform your best role. You fluttered your eyelashes, rocked your hips towards the man and wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to his strong, muscular body, hidden underneath the expensive fabric. "You seem worried about other men using me so maybe you are the one deserving..." You paused to lower your voice seductively while you watched his handsome face wrinkle in sadness and heartache. "Of this body." You finished the sentence by smirking victoriously. You knew that it was wrong to take it so far and mess with Leo's feelings but this little stunt made you feel better about how little in control you actually were most of the time.

"It would be an honour, My lady." The butler responded unexpectedly, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, while he reached to brush off a lock of hair, covering your eye. He caressed your face lovingly. This wasn't right. He should have been disgusted by you, threatening to tell your father or even worse - but instead the man was placing small kisses along your jawline.

Maybe you should have told him it was a joke. Maybe you should have tried to fight or scream or call for help. But what difference would it make - no one cared enough about the youngest child. Even if you died, there were many other options to choose from.

You can't help but wish that Leo too would realise it was pointless to adore someone like you. If only for him to stop touching you so tenderly it makes you cry. It's the first time that someone shows you genuine affection. It hurts and it makes you sick, but it's better than being forgotten. Or so you tell yourself again and again in the darkness of the night. You can't fall asleep.

#yandere male #yandere male x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere #yancore #yandere butler #yandere oc

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thesunshinebunny · 3 years

Note

Hello! I've seen two asks with the first reaction of a Fem!Reader dancing in an erotic/sexy way. (One with the dorm heads and one with the vice dorm heads-)

So I thought I could ask the same thing, but with Cater, Jack, Floyd, Epel, Sebek and Silver. It's okay if it's breaking the rules or you're not comfortable with writing it! But thanks in advance anyways! Stay peachy!! ^^

I never thought I'd end up making a whole series of requests for this style, and to think that the dorm heads was my first order for Twst, what a great start.

Dorm Leaders reaction

Vice Dorm Leaders reaction

As always, all characters are +18 Enjoyyyyyy

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Cater

Montero – Lil Nas X

I imagine Cater as a person who follows trends and is aware of the new music that comes out every single day, so I don't think it is weird to find him listening to the new of Lil Nas x (hiding it from Riddle obviously, knowing him that kind of songs would be strictly prohibited in the halls of Heartslabyul)

But as smart as Cater could get with social media and internet fashions, he didn't notice how you had gotten into music so much that you were mentally creating a choreography.

One specifically for him.

So, when you asked him to spend some private time in the comfort of his bedroom, he didn't expect at all that you would sit him in the middle of his bed just passing the threshold.

For a moment he thought you were going to give him a massage or a handjob, but when you told him to wait patiently, that you were going to change, his impure thoughts were dispelled, thinking that you were going to get more comfortable to snuggle with him.

How wrong he was. It was seeing you come out of the bathroom with a hoodie (that warm and purposeful had nothing), which barely covered your sports bra and shorts, half covering your butt, when all unseemly thoughts returned to his mind.

He stretched out his hands to pull you to him, but you stayed in place, saying you had another surprise.

Cater automatically took out his cell phone to record and take some occasionals photos.

Watching you dance so freely, doing a private show and personally for him made his heart race to a thousand an hour. Even his pants were starting to tighten.

It was seeing your ass and automatically biting his lips. In his mind he was wanting to place each palm on each of your cheeks and squeeze them as he held you against him, preventing you from moving, and his cock buried well deep inside you.

"Are you happy to see me?" your question brought him out of his reverie, realizing that your choreography was over.

He put the cell phone aside and pounced on you, wrapping his arms around you, capturing your lips and throwing you on the bed. Perhaps, among all the ruffle, he put his phone in recording mode and captured ... the entire subsequent session.

Don't worry, Cater would never divulge a video like that and if you want it delete it, he will do it immediately. If not, he will keep it in a folder with a password.

Jack

Solo – Demi Lovato

Jack tried multiple times to convince you to go train with him around the Savannaclaw arena, but each time you refused, stating that you liked being more in the comfort of the bed, covered up to your head, rather than get up at five in the morning to run.

He didn’t take it the wrong way, the way he trained was not for everyone, but he did advise you not to stay still and fall into a sedentary lifestyle, claiming that it would be harmful to your health.

Therefore, you decided to start training on your own, with your own time and doing a little of what you liked most; because remember: to be able to dance like divine goddesses, you need to train ... and a lot.

While he went out for a run, you stayed asleep, when classes ended it was your turn to train.

One day classes ended quite early in your case, allowing you to go to Jack's room to rest and wait for him; But the minutes grew long and what seemed like an hour of waiting turned into two.

So… loud music, more comfortable clothes and practice.

And what does Jack like more than training? See you give your best while doing what you like.

Finding you in his room dancing in sportswear was an image that he would like to print and keep in his mind.

He didn’t care that you were sweating or that the clothes weren’t the tightest to mark your figure, just seeing you move your hips was what he needed to have a smile from ear to ear.

Finish your dance calmly, that your gray wolf will be waiting for you at the door, smiling at you and with open arms to give you a big hug for the effort.

He would eat you with kisses and bites to show you how happy he was to see you happy. If this leads to more… spicy things, that's up to you.

What if I recommend you not to dance this same choreography in the training field in broad daylight, where everyone can see you. The results could be a bit possessive.

But, if you're brave enough, don't complain later if you end up with bites and marks all over your body.

Floyd

My oh My – Camilla Cabello

You walked into the gym expecting to find the basketball team training as usual, but there was no one in their place. Absolute silence.

You took the opportunity to place your backpack next to the roadways, change into comfortable sportswear and put on some music to improve the atmosphere.

When this song started to play, you elatedly stood in the middle of the gym, a sly smile on your face, completely ignoring the sound of rumbling footsteps and slowly approaching the gym.

You were in the middle of the choreography when you felt two arms gripping you tightly, leaving you gasping for air. You screeched as Floyd began to squeeze you more and more, making it impossible for you to move.

"My my, nobody taught you to pay attention to your surroundings when you're alone, koebi-chan?" that sceared the shit out of you.

"Can I dance with you?"

He pulled you closer to him, pressing your back against his torso and your hips against his, lifting you off the floor, and began to spin and sway to the rhythm of the music.

The situation made you laugh until you felt his hand pass over your chest and touch your breast. He settled you against the wall, now your pussy positioned on his erect dick, grinding it thanks to his arms that held you in the air.

At no point did either of you stop the music, letting the playlist roll on and cover the sweet moans coming out of your mouth.

Some freshman ventured into the gym when they heard faint groans creep through the large metal doors.

They got the scare of their lives when they saw Floyd pounding from behind you, staring straight at the entrance and throwing death threats with just his eyes.

Epel

Do it like a dude – Jessie J

Listen to me... you can't tell the only woman at NRC that she can't participate in a dance competition because "it's only for guys"

Uhhhhhhhhh, if I was in that situation how would break their teeth.

Buuuut, you were able to defend yourself in a better way… going to the middle of the training ground where the competition (led by Professor Vargas) was taking place.

I have to say that you left all the participants with icy skin? Other than making them feel like they have a small dick. Straight to the ego.

And Epel was no different. He wasn’t embarrassed by the fact that a girl had beaten him in steps that were recognized later is another matter not ashamed at all, not at all.

Which did bring his ego to the ground and his self-esteem was to see you give your all to overthrow sexism, while he could barely stand in the same line as those of Savannaclaw.

Either way, he enjoyed watching you dance, you seemed re-empowered and that gave you an aura of a strong and powerful woman.

If those who refused to let you participate didn’t give you the prize, rest assured that Epel will leave them in their place, perhaps with the help of Deuce.

He asked you how you could have so much confidence in yourself and that may have caused a butterfly effect ... he wanted to know, well you will teach him in bed.

Two or three tricks may have taken effect and in the next competition (or anything) Epel will give his best, even if he has you as an opponent.

Victory sex for whoever wins? Victory sex.

Sebek

Play with Fire – Sam Tinnesz

You were calm in the comfort of your bedroom, going over some class assignments, some background music, Grimm sleeping next to the bed. A normal day.

But quite boring.

You decided to go down to do a little stretching, so much time hunched over in bed looking at the notes it makes your back very bad. You took your cell phone and left the little cat sleeping comfortably.

Between those stretches you got the idea of practicing a little choreography, nothing too complicated or time consuming; maybe half an hour, forty minutes and that's it.

Well, it ended up being a two hour workout, doing one choreography more complicated than the other. Night had fallen and you were supposed to have a little "date" with Sebek right in your bedroom.

There were knocks on the door, but with the volume of the music you couldn't hear them, nor did you hear the creak of the door opening and closing.

Sebek found you in the middle of the living room, moving your arms around your body. He’s not stupid, he knew you were doing a choreography and he would have enough patience to let you finish it and show up.

What he didn’t expect was to see your figure fall to the floor and move in those ... eccentric movements

Indecent thoughts get out of this mind.

You finished dancing and Sebek was still standing in the middle of the hall, not knowing what to do, where to look, and if he was allowed to speak.

"Sebek are you ok? When did you came in?"

Completely taken out of his reverie, ready to continue the evening as if nothing had happened.

Inwardly he was dying of excitement.

Without telling you anything, with the "date" half finished, having a good and sweet dinner, he just ... slamed you against the wall and took you right there and there.

You both ended up scaring poor Grimm. He just wanted to come down to eat his tuna.

Silver

Maria - 화사 (Hwasa)

It wasn’t unusual to hear multiple and different songs in the corridors of Diasomnia, especially with Lilia as a member of the light music club; it was normal to hear all kinds of rhythms, even different languages.

Therefore, Silver didn’t find it unusual to hear Korean lyrics as he walked through the lounge of his dorm.

What he did think was strange was hearing footsteps and blows, which had a very peculiar resemblance to the rhythm of music.

In a corridor somewhat away from the common area, which led to a small meeting room and greater tranquility, you were there with the music blasting and dancing as if you were the owner of the place.

Don't get me wrong, Silver was 1000% okay with you dancing in his dorm, even if you wanted to do it on a table in the middle of the lounge room… be his guest.

What he couldn’t allow was his roommates seeing you so… free, sure of yourself, indisputably if you were wearing sports clothes or little clothes, leaving nothing to the imagination.

And if Malleus was among those people… ufff, a big no from our silver boy.

He would go to where you were and lift you by the legs, placing you on his shoulder and commenting that you could continue your dance in a more private place.

That place was his room.

"The way you dance is ... intoxicating"

If at any time the brilliant idea of approaching Silver occurs to you while you dance, take it for granted that he will grab you in his arms and throw you on the bed.

Nope, he's not going to let you finish the choreography. He has another type of choreography in mind.

Lilia put up a do not disturb sign on the other side of the door, proud to see his son a grown-up… apart from the fact that he would have a little “chat” with him immediately after the deed it doesn't matter if you’re still naked and pathetically covered with sheet, he would just *pufff*

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #cater diamond #cater x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #jack x reader #floyd leech #floyd x reader #epel felmier #epel x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #silver #silver x reader #silver twst

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Dark Side Of The Moon Ch. 1 - Dark! Loki x Reader

Chapter 1: Speak to Me/Breathe

Chapter Summary: The last thing you remember was being mortally wounded, now having woken up in a completely different reality. And you’d soon need to face the horrors of who would seek you out...

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Suicide Attempt, Graphic Descriptions of Death, Dark! Loki, Spoiler you kinda die but kinda don't

Words: approx. 3800

[Story Masterlist]

Masterlist to my other works right ->Here<-

Lyrics used from the Song: Kina ft. Snow - Get You The Moon

“Y/N, look out!”

The piercing sounds of gunfire nearby made your eardrums ring, yet Steve’s words got through to you nonetheless.

But you were determined to end this, here and now.

Tony was the first one at your side, catching you in his arms before you hit the floor. However, you could only do so much as whimper a silent apology to your friends, who now had to live with the consequences of your actions.

“Why did you do this?!” you heared Dr. Strange yell as he unsucessfully tried to close the deep cut in your gut. Too afraid of what you might see if you’d look at the wound, your glare was locked on the beautiful sky - yes, the sun was almost setting, and it was somehow calming to you that this would most likely the last thing you’d set eyes upon.

“There was no reason to be this reckless!” Steve followed close by, his scolding soon turning into desperate screams. “Fuck. FUCK!” If Captain America himself is cussing, then it’s as severe as you thought it to be.

Your wounds were lethal, that much was sure.

And of course they were right, as always: You didn’t need to play the martyr here, throwing yourself into danger to shield your comrades - well, you did anyway, and there was no going back now.

On the other hand, they were the ones taking a gravely depressed widow onto a dangerous mission. But you did not want your precious friends to blame themselves for that, for it was your own wish.

Dying in an honorable battle was what would send you to Valhalla, after all - where you could finally meet him again, hopefully.

The only one not having spoken a single word up until now was Thor, very well knowing what all this was about. It was no secret that you were sick and tired of how your life had turned out to be, ever since the Infinity War.

You felt empty. Incomplete. Desperate. Hallow.

The God of Thunder had turned his back to you, yet there was still agony radiating from that already broken man. Your almost-brother-in-law was the only one who could possibly understand your pain. Thor Odinson had lost everything: His homeland, most of his tribe, his family and best friend - and soon, you as well.

All this time, you wanted to be strong. For them, who had also lost so much!

But at some point things just got out of control.

“You can’t leave me alone, Lady Y/N! Not you too!” Thor finally whimpered as he fell onto his knees, softly squeezing your hand. “You’re the only thing I have left from him!

So this is what dying feels like.

The bloodloss caused your limps to go limp, and when the pain began to stop and got replaced by numbness, you knew it would soon be time. Your brain lost the remaining control over your body, and you found yourself encoated by pure nothingless.

Only able to listen by their screams, cries and kind words - at least you’d die surrounded by those marvellous people. It sure was a privilege knowing them.

You weren’t afraid - all in all, it had been a good life, after all.

There were no regrets.

“Shh” you hushed them, using your last bit of strenght so your lips formed somewhat of a most broken smile, forming words between gurling on your own blood.

“It’s alright, I-” you cut yourself off, trying to scream as a last, torturing pain shot through your whole system. “I-I-I’ll-- meet him again...you know?”

“I’m no-not strong enough, please...” Thor cried out like you had never seen him before, feeling a tide of guilt wash over you. “Loki wouldn’t have wanted you to go like this! He told me to protect you, so you could lead a long and happy life!”

Without him? Impossible!

“You gave me a shoulder when I needed it

You showed me love when I wasn’t feeling it

You helped me fight when I was giving in

And you made me laugh when I was losing it”

Yes, indeed: You had been to selfish to keep on living just for the sake of your friends, burdening them with yet another loss.

“I-I don’t wanna go...this was a mistake, I- please...”

How badly did you want to soothe them right now, telling them that everything would be alright and you’d meet them again, eventually?

It was too late now.

Your body gave up earlier than your soul, which had endured and kept on all this time, even in it’s shattered state.

And when Tony’s palm gently closed your eyes, making it easier for you to embrace the cold darkness, the last thing you heared before your senses gave up were startling you enough to almost bring you back to life:

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

That voice was familiar, yet it didn’t belong to Loki. Dr. Strange, no- Stephen Strange, your friend and mentor of the mystic arts.

“I don’t have the heart to allow this to happen” he stated frantic, making you wonder if that was a dream of your hypoxic brain or if you were still able to hear them? People tend to say the sense of hearing dies last, after all. “She still has a pulse, even though weak. Hurry!”

Their voices were far in the back, words way too far out of your reach to understand. As if you were an outsider, only observing from a distance.

Your friends were fighting, or maybe discussing something. That much you could make up from their tone, but your mind was too exhausted to make sense of anything.

It felt as if you were already without a body, floating through the unknown like a feather in the wind - not knowing where fate would lead you to next.

Everything was numb - even your pain. It was soothing, somehow.

Because you had been a ghost way before, when you were alive even. An empty shell of a human, acting like they weren’t dead on the inside.

Coherent thoughts, memories, emotions...even the fractions of your own past you had both collected and surpressed. Right now, they were all restrained and pushed far in the back of your very core, where you were finally able to evaluate them without earthly bondings.

Was this heaven, hell - or maybe both or none or them?

____

"Be aware of the limits this tactic has. It’s a very drastic measurement that can most likely be used only once in your lifetime, and it is not guaranteed to work either.”

Stephen’s voice again. You recall that scene, it’s been long in the past...but why are you remembering it now?

Yes, this was familiar. All of you had been invited to the Sanctum Sanctorum, a fitting place to teach about this ancient knowledge.

You clearly remembered that Loki was absent in any of the Doctor’s lessons, feeling that a “puny human” was “unworthy” to teach him, and “it would be nothing new anyway, Y/N, I am a god and the way better wizard, I know it all already.”

What he was about to tell you back then was some kind of crazy emergency-plan: Dangerous, unpredictable and escpecially untested.

“I’ve only read about this tactic up until now” the mage pondered loudly as he picked at his goatee, earning some childish giggles by you and Tony. “So I cannot promise that it will function as planned. The Multiverse is dangerous and acts in unforseen ways.”

“Very reassuring” you had mocked at the time, not really biding the topic any importance or thought ever again.

But now...

The trick sounded way simpler than it actually was, being as complex as it is only natural for something like that, costing a huge prize at that:

Dr. Strange would send any of you who were on the brink of death through a portal, thus leading you into a random dimension of this endless Multiverse.

That dimension, in which your alternate self has most likely died, will gladly accept you as a “replacement”. Some kind of what Peter Parker called a “glitch” will occur, instantly healing all of your wounds - even fatal ones, so you could remain in the timeline that was missing you.

Yet the consequences of this maneuvre would be unspeakable.

_____

“That bastard...” you gnarled internally, finally realizing why you would remember this of all things after apparently having just taken your dying breath. “He didn’t just-”

Eventually, you realized having escaped death’s grip, slowly beginning to regain your senses - yet still refusing to open your eyes.

“I don’t want to leave this place. My friends -- will I never see them again? No. NO! Life is meaningless. Just let me be with him. Please! Loki...”

“’Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

‘Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you

And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you”

Another part of Strange’s lesson echoed in your head, revealing that you were now in fact up on your own.

“Not even I can tell just how much this timeline will differ from what you know. Of course I will search for you right away, but considering the countless possibilities, it might very well be that we’ll never meet again. But you’re alive, and hopefully safe. That’s all that counts.”

Grass tickled your palm as you twitched your fingers, testing the limits of your body, which had literally just tricked death. Suddenly, you felt a stinging pain, almost like lightning boring into your temportal. The origin of this pain remained unknown.

When you finally found the courage to sit up, your flesh still feeling as heavy as lead, you realized that Stephen was most likely wrong: He assumed that you’d find yourself in a place you had a deep connection with, yet that place was unrecognizable to you.

Then why were you here of all places?

Actually, this location was incredibly beautiful, managing to stop the aching in your heart, if only for the fraction of a second.

Your former lover would’ve loved this place.

“'Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

'Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you

And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you”

Even though not all of Dr. Strange’s speculations were correct, you decided to stick to his emergency plan: Find as much information about this “new” earth as possible, point out the differences to your initial one, and then contact the Dr. Strange of this dimension.

Two mages working on crossing each other’s path would at least higher the stakes to find your original timeline.

Well, no one could guarantee you that the Avenger’s existed on this timeline, and they could as well be evil in this one...what a weird and horrifying imagination.

Knowledge really was power - that was another thing Loki had taught you a long time ago, and it would prove valuable, especially in this situation.

As you wandered this surprisingly extensive garden and getting lost in admiring the beauty of it’s nature, you found yourself devoid of any weapons. That fact made you slightly uncomfortable, even though your current location seemed absent of any ememies, making a peaceful impression.

Seemingly there weren’t any evil schemes going on in this dimension.

It basically were only minor differences, at least that was your first impression. At least there were no changes in natural laws or something as big.

“I miss the days where magic and science didn’t mix up like this” you whispered, mainly to yourself as you examined the new, large scar on your abdomen - the only memory left of your “almost-suicide-mission”.

To be more precize: The only thing left from your former life, now leaving you able to start completely anew, wether you wanted it or not.

Sun had almost drowned behind the horizon, diving the sky in a deep orange. Your eyes were still adjusting, yet you could’ve sworn to see the silhouette of a person. It was far away, at the entrance on what appeared to be a palace belonging to this garden.

Apparently, you had invaded someone’s propery, and you could only pray that it was noone important - or worse, a owner who would defend their ground with violence.

You don’t think your earth had a place this...flashy. The castle was way bigger than any you knew on the other timeline. The first difference you had figured out, yet it was only a minor one.

Maybe the headache you were experiencing was from someone making you out as an intruder?

One thing was sure: You had been noticed, and you immediately were on high alert.

Where to run to or at least hide?

There was a maze made out of bushed parting you and the palace, and since there was no better option, you’d enter it. Talking to that person and convincing them of your goodwill would make it way easier to gain information.

“You may come out” you declared as you made your way, unable to evaluate the situation properly. “I mean no harm. I’m just lost.”

Was it dangerous to be here? Obviously, you were not allowed to be here anyway.

However, when you had finally found the escape to that maze, only several hundret meters away from the building, the person was already gone.

Had your mind just played a dirty trick on you again? Wouldn’t be the firt time it’d betray you like this...

No. You clearly felt someone watching you.

And as soon as your senses had sharpened to your usual self again, you instantly jumped back, gaining some distance to the Citauri that had just appeared behing you.

Shit! You weren’t ready to fight again just yet. Not like this.

And where one of those vile beasts were, many others would appear. You knew that much.

Had Thanos invaded this earth? Oh god, not again...not him. You were so damn tired of those fights, escapes and especially the pain that always inevitable followed after.

Just when it was about to swing it’s weapon at your head, you felt dizziness crawl up your nerves, making you collapse on the floor. Lucky for you, because only like that, the stike didn’t hit you.

Even though having been taught basic magic skills, that certain kind of spell you were unable to fight against - only true masters of the art were able to perform a sorcery that well.

The Chitauri had left your line of sight, yet the other figure from before reappeared in a pace so fast that your eyes couldn’t follow. They sweeped you off the floor just before your head would meet the hard pavement.

“And now you will answer to me, shapeshifter.”

Once again someone robbed you of the control of your life and body, leaving you without a free will.

How long had you been passed out now? You didn’t know and honestly didn’t care either - since you had nothing to lose anymore.

In the meantime, the owner of those lands had dismissed his guards, not wanting to be disturbed as he was left alone with you in the giant throne room.

The apparent ruler of that unclassified location was sitting on his throne, warily observing you from above. You were lying to his feet at the bare floor, every piece of clothing robbed from you and restrained by a pile of chains. He watched every twitch, all breaths you’d take or groans escaping your mouth until you would finally awake.

Oh, how you really were just like he remembered you, with every little detail he had adored.

At long last, you would finally open your lids again, blinking heavily as you took in your surroundings - but when your eyes met certain emerald ones, they immediately sprung wide open, the emptiness in your heart being filled with all kinds of emotions once again.

The man - it was him!

“'Cause you are, you are

Oh, you are

You are'Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

'Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you”

“Loki!” you screamed from the bottom of your heart. Without a single coherent thought, your legs would carry on their own as your weakened body stumbled in their attempt to climb those stairs.

For both of you, that momend of reuinion had waited far too long.

The god was temptated to approach you, his trembling hands already reaching out to catch your fragile body should you fall - but suddenly, you felt his knuckles digging into your cheekbone.

“Stay away from me, you fake!” Loki yelled furiously as you hit the ground, rubbing your cheek as you tried to understand what just happened.

Yeah, that sure brought you back to reality again, after such a short high.

Right.

That isn’t your Earth - and not your Loki either.

You couldn’t even be sure this world’s Y/N and Loki had the same kind of relationship the two of you had back in your timeline! The only thing you knew was that he knew you from his past, but as it seemed not pleasantly.

Now that you looked closely, he even had less scars, almost looking untouched and pure - like a true, invincible god. Maybe life here had treat him well, unlike his counterpart from your timeline.

He was still wearing that excessive outfit with the golden horns, and much to both your amazement and fear, it seemed that he still possessed theTesseract.

Could it be...

Before you could connect the dots, the king would soon interrupt your string of thoughts. “Drop that disguise, scum!”

Loki kept on degrading you as he paced in front of his throne, brow sinking deeper and deeper. “Don’t think you can somehow appeal to those pathetic sentiments” he explained, “I’ve freed myself from them long ago. Just stop making a fool out of yourself, and maybe I’ll reward it with a quicker death.”

Yet when he saw your most innocent smile, even this Loki would stand frozen in place, deeply in shock.

How he yearned to see it, all those years - to tell you just how sorry he was for everthing he’s done.

No.

He had left all of this behind - to claim his birthright and rule.

“I-I’m deeply so-sorry...that is a mistake” you whimmered with a broken voice, wiping a tear of joy out of your face. “My feelings overwhelmed me, I guess. I’ve never thought to see you again, even if you’re not the same Loki I know.”

Still cowering on the floor, you looked up to him with compassionate eyes, as if he had not just beat you before. You did not dare to make any more, wanting for Loki to try and understand himself.

“A variant?” he gnarled, just like you did when he realized.

No force in the world had allowed him to access other parts of the Multiverse, no matter how desperately he tried - and now fate had literally dropped you in front of his door.

Loki balled his fists in anger, making you flinch as you anticipated yet another blow.

“Dear, I-”

“Shut up!” the God of Mischief shoutet, causing his magic to break free. The walls of the palace were shaking, most windows and furniture having been destroyed. “It’s no use, woman!”

That man was way more powerful than the “puny god” people called names back on Asgard - and his sheer might made you quiver.

Just what kind of monster had he become, and why?

“L-Loki, please...” you tried to appeal to the last bit of humanity he might possess, and your begging made his guts twist in agony. “You’re scaring me.”

“You better be scared!” he exclaimed, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at him. “No matter what disgracefully weak “alter ego” of me you knew, I am built different. Stronger. Better. Everyone in the Nine Realms fears me, and I desire nothing else! Everything distracting me from fulfilling my destiny and reign over you dull creatures I got rid of. You’re nothing more than an insect I might as well crush right here and now!”

Choking on a sob, he tried to relish that last chance he got to admire you, smell you, touch what he cannot possess...no matter how many universes there may be.

A flood of tears cracked down your face at his words, yet you couldn’t be helped.

No matter what he would say - he looked just like him.

And that was enough for you to feel alive after such a long time of being a walking dead. There had to be a reason you landed right at his home, of all places in this universe. You had a connection, both of you felt it ever since you had been transported here.

"May I ask-” you disrupted yourself, awaiting some reaction. But the conqueror had seemed to have spoken what he thought important to say, not declining your question at all.

Whenever he seemed fit, he could disintegrate you - yet right now, this situation was way too intriguing.

“What happened to myself in this reality?”

Loki swallowed harshly, letting go off of you as he threw you down the stairs. He wouldn’t even bide you one look as he tried to surpress the turmoil of emotion still running through his veins, desperately keeping it from breaking free.

The outcome would always be the same: Suffering, for both of you.

“And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you.”

He only ever wanted it to stop hurting. To become unfeeling, since love had always been poisoning his mind, sometimes being gifted with it even though he knew he would never be worthy of anything else than disgust and hate.

And that contradiction caused him to throw away anything good that happened to him, through you. Let it be taken away from him just shortly after finally learning to remotely enjoy.

You deserved the truth, a reason to hate him even more than you probably already did.

Had you only come to his salvation earlier, then he might have been helped - yet now, he was beyond redemption. Broken. Sick. Dangerous.

And when the Chitauri dragged you away, his last words let your blood run cold:

“She died through my hands.”

_____

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naralanis · 3 years

Text

little bumps in the road (pt. 26)

Previously, on LBitR...

Lena has never given much thought to what happens after death.

She’s heard all about feeling cold—she’s felt that cold, more than once. She’s heard all about darkness—which she has seen, but not exactly in a near-death context. She’s also heard all about the light.

She does see that—not exactly a light she has to follow or whatever it is people see when they die, but a blinding expanse of white, as far as her eyes can see, though a little fuzzy, darker around the edges of her vision.

Considering the way she went out, Lena’s very surprised she doesn’t see any green.

Green. Kryptonite.

Kara.

Something that feels like a sob wrenches itself out of her chest by force. That dumb, stupid, idiotic Kryptonian—if Lena’s dead, then Kara is for sure—how dare she—

“Lena?”

The voice is familiar, and close; physically close, something that Lena didn’t think was possibly in this ethereal, post-death realm. Lena turns her head and realizes that, despite the brightness of the light she’s seeing, her eyes are most definitely closed.

Huh.

She opens them, then blinks, because the only difference seems to be… a lot of fuzzy shapes.

“Lena?” the voice calls to her again, closer still.

“Eugh…” is Lena’s less-than-eloquent reply. She could have done worse; her throat constricts painfully around something, and it’s like she’s pulling air the wrong way in, which causes a coughing fit that rattles her to the bone.

“Hey, hey, it’s OK, take your time,” the voice continues, and Lena knows that voice, but right now her brain feels like actual Jell-O sloshing around in her skull, and her entire body lights up with pain, so it’s understandably taking her a little while to get her bearings.

She blinks the crust out of her eyes; the speaking blob at her side begins to take shape and look like a person.

“Lena, don’t worry. You’re alright, you’re at the DEO. You’re hurt, but we could take the implant out—there will be an adjustment period, but you’re alright.” The voice explains, and Lena finally, finally places it.

“Agh… ah—ugh… L-lex?” she tries; her tongue feels like a wad of cotton in her mouth, and her throat is just burning.

The voice grows soothing. “We got him, Lena, don’t worry, we got—”

Lena shakes her head, which is a terrible decision—there is s sharp jolt of pain that shoots down her temple and settles all the way at the base of her spine; it makes her clench her teeth, which in turn just worsens the throbbing in her head.

She attempts to raise a hand; that fails when another painful shock travels from her shoulder across her collarbones. Lena groans in frustration, she needs to ger her words out, but it’s like her entire body has decided to call it quits.

Finally, she manages.

“Ah-Alex… Alex?”

The figure releases a breathless little laugh, and a reassuring hand comes to rest very gently at Lena’s shoulder.

“It’s me, Lena. I’m alright, you’re alright. Rest now, OK? Your meds will be kicking in again any time.”

Lena is equal parts relieved and panicked; there’s the obvious relief that comes with the knowledge that Alex is fine and right here next to her. But the agent doesn’t say a word about her sister, and that fills Lena with a dread she cannot express in her condition; especially now, as her lids grow heavier by the second, as her body sinks into an undoubtedly double-padded mattress.

“K—K..agh…” she tries, needing to know that Kara is alright, that she’s alive, because if Lena made it, Kara has to be alive. The alternative is unthinkable.

She manages another unintelligible gurgle before the meds do kick in, and then she’s out like a light.

Lena dreams.

This time, she does see green—a lot of it as the entire space of her LuthorCorp office is awash in the glow of the fully-armed Kryptonite cannons, and when Supergirl—Kara—lowers herself onto her balcony, Lena realizes this is not a dream at all.

It’s a memory.

She watches Kara raise her arms in surrender, sees the crinkle of confusion on her brow as the Kryptonian stares at her as if she’s seeing someone else entirely.

Lena watches her fall once she’s hit by what was meant to be a lethal dose of Kryptonite.

The memory shifts.

They’re in the Jeep, this time. It’s the dead of night and Kara’s in the driver’s seat, hair cropped short—Christ, Lena had forgotten just how short it was during those first couple of weeks. Kara’s driving, but she’s not looking at the road—no, in this snippet of reality, she’s staring straight at Lena, her gaunt, pale complexion fixated on her passenger. She looks perplexed, but also, inexplicably, relieved.

The memories keep shifting—they’re at the diner where they finally spoke to one another again, then they’re at a gas station, a phone booth, on and on and on—until everything seems to move and merge into a blur of colours, shapes, and sounds. It’s a convoluted, puzzling mental kaleidoscope, but surprisingly, Lena finds it remarkably easy to make sense of it all.

After all, how could she not? These are her memories. She’s lived through it all before.

Lena blinks into awareness slowly, this time. Her dream—or actual trip down memory lane—fades away softly, giving way to the soothing darkness of eyes gently closed for sleep.

There’s warmth at her side, and movement, too. It’s the up-and-down, in-and-out steady rhythm of deep breathing.

Lena instinctively tucks into the warmth and feels it in a solid, unmovable presence on her bed. She blinks once, twice, registers the lower lighting of her room, the tell-tale beeping of hospital equipment…and a very warm Kryptonian, glued to her side, squeezed so tight into the MedBay bed she cannot be comfortable.

Lena shifts—she needs to get a better look, needs to touch, to make sure she’s not dreaming, that her mind (which hasn’t been extremely reliable as of late) isn’t playing a cruel trick on her.

When she moves, blue eyes rimmed by dark circles snap open; they crinkle at the corners with a smile as they meet Lena’s gaze head on, and Lena releases a breath of pure relief.

“Hey,” Kara murmurs, her voice a soft breath ghosting over Lena’s cheeks since they’re only inches apart.

Lena can’t really help it; the tears are running down her cheeks before she realizes she’s crying, and she breathes in through sniffles as she reaches out to touch Kara’s face.

She’s there, inches away, warm and soft, and alive, and Lena lets the sobs rip through her chest. Her breaths are short little stuttering gasps, really, and she can’t stop smiling.

“Hey,” she whispers back, leaning into the warmth of Kara’s touch once the Kryptonian delicately wipes at her tears with her thumb. Her hand stays there, cradling Lena’s face as they smile like idiots after one-too-many near-death experiences.

“I have to admit,” Kara says after some time, smile unwavering and bright despite the pallor of her features, “that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

Lena chuckles—she does so lightly, since her ribs (most likely broken) protest at the slightest movement. “What, crying?” she asks. She can’t really move her arms, or really anything at all, so she settles for slightly craning her neck, leaning further into the hand Kara has kept in place at her tear-stained cheek.

Kara just nods, laughing a little. There’s a warm yellow hue around them—Lena surmises someone probably moved a sunlamp to her bed once Kara invited herself in—and it makes Kara’s hair, growing at awkward, adorable angles, glow golden and beautiful.

Lena soaks it all in.

“Is this real?” she can’t help but ask. She doesn’t think she would survive another trick of the mind, especially one so cruel.

Kara shifts on the thin mattress, impossibly closer, body practically melding along Lena’s. She’s still smiling, and there’s such certainty in her gaze, Lena practically melts with relief before Kara can even reassure her.

“Yes,” Kara says. “I have to admit the details are a little bit fuzzy,” she raises her arm with some difficulty to poke playfully at her own head, “but it seems I uh, ripped the Lexosuit apart and tossed it just before it exploded.”

Lena furrows her brows, trying to remember. All she can recall was the countdown clock and the split-second feeling of weightlessness before she began falling to the earth once the suit powered down.

“And then?”

Kara shrugs—Lena notices how her movements are stilted, like moving pains her, and wonders just how close to dying Kara had been. Again. “As far as I know, J’onn got to you in the nick of time.”

Lena narrows her eyes. “And you?”

Kara looks sheepish. “I uh. Hit the pavement.”

It’s said so… matter-of-factly, so casual and off-hand. It wrenches another sob right out of Lena, and her ribs ache in protest, but all she can think is Kara falling again, crumpling limply onto the pavement again, being on the brink of death again, and she can’t—Lena can’t cope with the image at all.

“Hey, hey, no, it’s OK,” Kara moves in, ready to calm and soothe, wiping at Lena’s tears with both hands. Her lips find Lena’s forehead, and while the gesture is entirely unprecedented, it has the desired effect—Lena’s body instinctively relaxes, and her sobs begin to abate. “I’m here,” Kara says, lips still on Lena’s skin, “Good as new, I promise.”

Lena doesn’t believe that for one second—there’s an unhealthy pallor to Kara’s complexion that tells her she still has a lot of time to spend under the sunlamps, and Lena can tell just how much it hurts for the Kryptonian to move. She bets there are slow-healing bruises all over her skin under the DEO-issue henley and sweats.

Though—she considers as her own body twinges with pains she hasn’t yet had the mental fortitude or will to catalogue in their entirety—she supposes she also has a long way to go as well.

“How long have we been out?”

“A few days,” Kara replies, chin resting atop Lena’s head and showing no inclination of moving. Good. “I just woke up a few hours ago.”

Lena grins. “And then the first thing you did was come to crowd my space while I recovered?”

Kara laughs. “Of course not. I went to pee first.”

It’s worth the twinges in her ribcage to chuckle a little. Lena lets out as deep a sigh as her injuries will allow, and her breathing adjusts to follow the steady rise-and-fall of Kara’s chest, still melded to her side.

“So, what now?”

Kara’s sigh is deep, and when she speaks, her voice grows heavier with sleep by the word. She’s probably exhausted and just about ready to conk out.

Lena thinks she’s got the right idea.

“Well,” the Kryptonian murmurs, voice so soft Lena has to strain to hear over the faint hum of hospital machinery surrounding them. “Nia caught Lex—gave him a good ol’ trashing, from what I hear. Uh, your name’s been cleared. LuthorCorp is yours, or will be after Lex’s trial—again. Supergirl is alive and back, sort of. Kara Danvers, meanwhile, is due to return from a mysterious illness… or something, I’m not sure what lie Nia made up at CatCo. Oh, and…”

Lena nods, barely processing Kara’s words. She’s just sinking into warmth, and Kara’s rambling in earnest now, and it feels so familiar. Comfortable, even here, cramped in this tiny MedBay cot.

Especially here.

Lena tucks further into Kara’s neck, and that stops Kara’s talking just enough for her to get a word in edgewise. “OK,” she whispers against Kara’s skin. “But for now… we just rest?”

She feels Kara’s slight nod, and Lena’s smile stretches wider while her eyes grow heavier. “Together?”

Another nod. Another whisper. “Together.”

<<<Previous||

That’s it! It’s done! Oof! Thank you all for humouring me in this wild, bumpy ride. All chapters (plus an epilogue!) will be posted on my AO3 within the next few days.

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tvdiaries-imagines · 3 years

Text

Old Flame: Pt. 17

Warnings: Cursing, tobacco use

Word Count: 4694 (the longest chapter so far!)

OLD FLAME MASTERLIST: CLICK HERE

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

Klaus roared throughout the courtyard, furious that you are nowhere to be found after you successfully snapped his neck. The moon was out the last time he’s seen you but waking up, the moon had disappeared and now it’s daylight. He usually wouldn’t have woken up this late from a simple snapped neck, but you took a page out of his book and stuck a vile of vervain in his system after successfully finding his vervain collection.

Hayley and Jackson were across the way on the second floor, having a quiet chat beside the railing. “Who?” Hayley asked, puzzled.

“Y/N!” Klaus shouted, fuming as he’s glancing around the vicinity.

Kol stepped out of one of the rooms on the second floor after hearing a frantic original. Hayley and Jackson stepped inside the nearest room, figuring Kol could handle Klaus. “I thought she was with you, Nik?” Kol brought up.

“Apparently, she said she was fine last night.” Klaus raced towards his brother who sauntered inside the bedroom he’s occupying during his stay. “Then she snapped my bloody neck and disappeared with the stake.” He retrieved his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed your number. After a couple rings, he nearly cursed after being sent to voicemail. It wasn’t a surprise to him since almost every time you’re in a dire situation, your phone is never answered. But, Klaus figured he’d try.

“What happened to her when I left to speak to Esther?” Klaus asked, jaw clenched.

“If I tell you, give me your word that you won’t be cross with me.” Kol eyed him anxiously.

“What did you do?” Klaus muttered in an alarming tone.

“All I did for Y/N was a favor. I had no control of how she’d react.”

“Spit it out, brother. What is it?”

“She was worried about her friend, Kai Parker.” Kol answered. “Figured Esther was behind it, so she requested I find out. Turns out, mother sent him to a prison world and there’s no fixing it.”

“And that’s the reason for her lunacy?” The hybrid’s nostrils flared in aggravation.

“It is.”

“Good riddance. I don’t know what Y/N sees in that imbecile.” Irritation pricked at him.

To add even more stress, an angry Finn Mikaelson immediately walked in, magically breaking one of the vases on the table. “Where is she?”

“Finn, please, join us.” Klaus said with blatant mockery.

“Don’t make me ask again.” Finn sneered.

“I assume you’re referring to our mother. Fear not, she’s tucked away somewhere perfectly safe.” Klaus added. “You’ll never find her.”

“You think you’ve won. Let’s see how long that arrogance lasts, brother.” Finn glared at his brothers before turning around and marching away with heavy steps.

Klaus tried reaching you again but was sent to voicemail. That alone ticked him off and he was close to throwing his cell phone at the brick wall.

“I’m going to find Y/N. You’re coming with me, Kol.” Klaus made his way out of the bedroom in lengthy steps.

“Oh, splendid.” Kol responded back, trailing behind his brother.

Reaching the courtyard, there were a handful of Hayley’s wolf allies and Marcel’s group of vamps gathered together. Klaus is aware that it’s Hayley and Marcel’s attempt for them to make a truce for the bigger picture.

“Klaus, stop!” Hayley blurted, Klaus and Kol stopped in their tracks.

“Finn spelled all of the exits. We can’t leave.” Marcel added.

Klaus put a palm up at eye view, slowly reaching out until his skin sizzled against the spelled blockade, letting out a faint groan from the affliction. He threw his healing hand down to his side and shifted his view to his youngest brother, expression hardened. “Fantastic.” Klaus muttered sarcastically.

(Meanwhile…)

After disappearing into the night, you booked a suite at the Ritz-Carlton. You’re aware that Klaus has plenty of connections, so you assured that you didn’t put a card on file in case he traces it. Instead, you compelled the staff to allow you to stay for free. You even took extra precautions and showed them a photo of Klaus so that if he ever steps foot into the Ritz-Carlton, they’ll notify you right away.

Having your humanity off so far has been dandy because you had no care in the world. If you were your normal self, there’s no doubt that you would be following Klaus around like a lost puppy during one of his missions and the thought made you sick to your stomach right now.

You woke up this afternoon to your suite nearly trashed from the little party you decided to throw last night because you gathered a handful of good looking people from bourbon street and plenty of liquor to keep you inebriated throughout the night. A man and a woman stayed overnight, thanks to your compulsion. You knew you’d be famished this afternoon and fresh blood ultimately did the trick for you.

After an incredible shower and devouring your sinful snacks, you compelled your victims to bandage up their wrists and be on their way. Housekeeping began tidying up your suite after you made your way out.

Though your craving for blood is fulfilled, you desired a hot bowl of gumbo, so you threw on your sunglasses and trekked through the quarter, crossing your fingers that your pesky beau isn’t looking high and low for you in the area. Your heels clicked along the cement, wearing your best black dress sitting pretty just above your knees.

Gumbo Shop was what you decided on and the friendly host sat you down at a table inside, farthest away from the windows. She did as expected by leaving a menu with you and handing you off to a server.

Within the hour, all of your cravings are satisfied so you left a generous tip for your server and went on your merry way. You weren’t sure what you planned to do next, so you allowed the city to decide for you. A street performer captured your attention so you stopped to observe.

Out of the blue, you spot Finn Mikaelson nearly walking past you in a rush. “Hi Finn. Why are you always so glum?” You teased, brow raised. He put a halt to his steps, hands behind his back. He wore a dark suit, the jacket fully unbuttoned.

“No use in going home anytime soon, dear Y/N.” He implied arrogantly. “Nobody can get in or out, thanks to my spell.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but alright.” In the blink of an eye, Finn strolled away. “Change of plans I guess.” You smirked.

(Later…)

Entering through the gates of the compound, you discovered over a dozen people in the courtyard. It seemed like they were not enjoying themselves whatsoever. There were a few familiar faces as well, including Marcel, Josh and Hayley. You wondered if Klaus or Kol managed to get trapped here as well since they weren’t in the space from what you can see. Your presence seemed to catch everyone’s attention though.

“Don’t you all look cozy.” Your haughty tone was obvious.

“Y/N wait!” Marcel alerted. “Don’t take another step. Finn put up a boundary spell.”

“Thanks for the heads up Marcel. But I already knew that. I bumped into Finn earlier.”

“But you came anyway?” Marcel raised a brow in suspicion.

You shrugged your shoulders in response, leaning against the wall close enough to the invisible barrier. Once everyone else besides Marcel realized that you were no help in freeing them, they were no longer interested in your presence and went back to sulking.

“Ah I see.” He came to a realization. “You’re here to gloat. Why?”

“There you are.” Klaus appeared from the shadows. His edge of irritation returned and drew a scowl over his face.

“Here I am.” You were feeling exceptionally smug. While examining your fingernails, you planned to get a manicure after this foolish conversation.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?”

You showed uninterest without any eye contact as you pulled a cigarette and lighter from your purse. You placed the toxic stick in between your lips, lighting the end of it and taking a puff effortlessly as if you’ve always been a smoker. Klaus glared at your repulsive act.

“I’ve been around.” You responded after exhaling, finally making eye contact with the hybrid.

“Care to explain why you felt it was necessary to render me unconscious for hours on end and then scurry off to god knows where.” With a brisk elevator look, he motioned a nagging hand at you. Klaus was displeased with your outfit choice without him there to claw the eyes out of every man that looks at you with hungry eyes.

He almost asked you about the whereabouts of the white oak stake, but he remembered that there are ears around that he doesn’t trust.

“The thought of having to explain to you bores me.” You fake yawned. “So I don’t think I will.”

“Something’s different about her, Nik.” Kol added, his mouth set in a hard line.

“I’m aware. Her humanity must be off.” Klaus made his way closer towards you, stopping as close to the barrier as he could. You stepped over to be face to face with him, sniggering.

“There ya go.” You snorted in amusement, the toxic stick weighing at your sides, carelessly flicking off the ash on the grounds of the compound. “You really aren’t the dumbest Mikaelson, Nik.” Klaus ignored your unnecessary comment, his firing eyes following the cigarette going from your mouth to your sides.

Kol began sauntering over to his brother, standing side by side. “Oh sister. Your humanity, eh?” He shook his head in disappointment, arms folded across his chest. “I thought you were bigger than this.”

You dropped the half finished cigarette on the concrete by your feet, crushing the butt with the ball of your stiletto. “My favorite Mikaelson brother is disappointed in me.” Your hand flew to your chest, fake pouting. “I’m crushed. I really am.”

“Stop this nonsense immediately, Y/N.” Klaus said, a scowl strewn across his face.

“Or what?”

“Do not test me.”

“Well last time I checked, you’re trapped in there while I’m free out here. So joke’s on you, my love.” You teased.

A sinister chuckle left Klaus’s mouth. “You shut off your humanity for whom? A useless dullard.” You stared at the ceiling, placing your hands at your hips. “Out of all the choices Esther has made in life, I’d say that sending Sir Malachai Parker back to the prison world was the best one.” He grinned, hoping to have hit a nerve to get your humanity back. “It pleases me knowing that he will be stuck there for all eternity. All alone.” He chose his words carefully and perfectly.

Suddenly, your hands fell and your blank eyes set onto Klaus’s, unmoving. By your reaction, there was a glimmer of a chance that it worked. You grasped both of the Mikaelsons’ undivided attention.

“Nice try.” You cocked your head to your side, your once unreadable expression is now evidently complacent and it boiled Klaus’s blood. His hands clenched at his sides as he’s trying to hide his defeat from you. Kol just simply sighed at their defeat, aware that it was a longshot anyways. “I’m bored. Bye boys.” Without a care in the world, you turned on your heel and departed the compound.

Once you were out of sight, Kol turned to face his brother who was still looking at the spot you were once standing at, unable to mutter any words. “Nik?” Kol murmured, careful not to overwhelm him.

After a beat, Klaus continued to ignore his brother and vacated the spot where he stood. He made his way towards a vacant section of the compound. Kol followed behind him.

Before Klaus could touch the handle of one of the doors on the first floor, Kol attempted to acquire his attention for the second time. “Brother?” Klaus puts a halt to his long strides, taking a deep breath.

In the blink of an eye, he vamp speeds to Kol, barely leaving any space in between the two as his murderous eyes bore into Kol’s. “Don’t.” Klaus warned through clenched teeth. That dangerous tone itself informed Kol to leave him alone in the meantime. And just like that, Klaus swung the door open and violently slammed it behind him, causing a few of the other vampires and wolves to flinch.

Your mani and pedi finished in an hour. You began scouring the quarter for inspiration on what other shenanigans to get into again. After walking in and out of a few gift shops along the way and stopping to tip some of the street performers, you finally stumbled upon bourbon street.

Normally you’d throw your money at the bartenders in one of the many jazz clubs, however, house music blared through one of the other clubs and it instantaneously called your name. Males and females in their 20s occupied this loud space, yet, you didn’t mind one bit because they’re of your age compared to your 1000 year old lover with anger issues.

Dancing and mingling with these fine people made your current cold heart wish that Camille was here to join you. But you wouldn’t dare risk having her call Klaus or Kol and informing them of your whereabouts. Who knows, you might end up snapping her neck dead for doing so and you didn’t care to waste your energy. Marcel and Josh could be trusted not to tell a soul, however, they’re trapped in the compound.

You released your sharp teeth from a poor soul’s neck on the dance floor undiscovered. The warmth of her blood brought you satisfaction. “Go wipe that up in the restroom.” You compelled her and she walked off like a zombie.

(Meanwhile…)

The longer time passed with the magical barrier being up, the more Marcel and his vamps’s hunger grew for blood. It wasn’t looking good for Kol and the werewolves. They were practically walking blood bags.

To make matters worse, Klaus’s patience started running out. He needed to get to you before you caused any havoc or came to any harm. This is the first time you’ve ever turned your humanity off so he has no idea what to expect. The feeling made him sick to his stomach. Not to mention, the white oak stake can be anywhere but he trusts you’re smart enough to have it hidden somewhere good.

The entirety of the barrier will not diminish until nightfall and they couldn’t wait that long. But to their luck, it’s a miracle that Davina fancied Kol. She received a phone call from him, needing her assistance for a spell to lift the barrier and she put whatever she was doing on hold to come to his aid.

They were almost certain that the spell would work. However, being that Finn is channeling something extremely powerful, they were only to be given 60 seconds for the barrier to be down. The plan was to have the wolves, Kol and Klaus exit the vicinity.

Davina and Kol now stood face to face with the invisible barrier in between, palms as close to touching as it would allow them. Small, lighted candles lined up in front of the witches and a circle of salt surrounded them as they continued muttering their spell to one another.

Due to the spell taking its course, all of the vampires needed to resort to cowering in the shadows until after Kol and Davina’s spell die out. Klaus and the wolves were allowed to wait beside the barrier.

A gust of wind abruptly flew through Kol and Davina, causing the candles to blow out and some of the salt to scatter. They exchanged smiles and were relieved to have the chance to touch palms.

“Okay, Jack. Now!” Hayley announced.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jackson didn’t hesitate to rush his pack out of there, guiding them towards the exit along with Hayley.

“Remember, 60 seconds!” Kol reminded them. He was eager for the werewolves to egress and then he followed suit.

But before Kol could take another step, Klaus dashed to him, holding him by the shoulder. “Slight change of plans, brother.” In a trice, he threw Kol in the air until he landed about 50 feet away, grunting in pain. “I no longer have to treat you like anything but the treacherous liar you truly are.” The hybrid spat. Davina’s neck snapped to him, bewildered.

“What the bloody hell?” Kol gradually sat up, feeling just as confused as Davina.

“Where is she?” Klaus questioned, vampires eyeing his brother hungrily while they still waited in the shadows.

“Please, they’ll kill him!” Davina pleaded.

“Well, he should’ve thought about that before he betrayed our sister.”

“What will Y/N think?!” She added.

“Not to worry about my beloved’s opinions of Kol’s predicament. Let’s just say, she’s not herself today.” Klaus replied to Davina before returning his attention to the mischievous Mikaelson, who now rose to his feet. “Rebekah never made it to her new body, did she? Seeing as how you casted the spell, and well, you’re you. I’d hardly call it an uncrackable case.”

“Rebekah’s fine, Nik. It was a prank.” Kol quicked marched towards his older brother. “Nothing more than what you lot have done to me.” He pointed a nagging finger. “But I guess it’s different when it’s one-” The magical blockade was up and running again and its wrath burned Kol’s pale hand, causing him to reel backwards and hiss in pain.

“Barrier’s back up.” Klaus flickered his eyes at the ravenous vampires coming out of the shadows. “And those vampires look oh so hungry.”

Kol grew anxious as the vampires made their way to him like a predator ready to take down its prey. Davina’s eyes began to well up in tears, yearning to come to Kol’s aid.

“I was willing to welcome you back into my home, but you had to return to your selfish petty jealousies.” Klaus said. “Well, let’s see how they help you survive when you’re stuck in there!” He stormed off towards the exit without the thought of a glance. He felt no remorse whatsoever for his little brother.

(Meanwhile…)

The sun began to set and it was no secret that you look damned good in the tight dress and towering heels. A handful of men even offered to pay for your drinks and you obviously obliged although you could’ve easily compelled them to. This made your job much easier.

Since you were pretty buzzed and in an amazing mood, you allowed one of the pathetic men to dance with you, only being allowed to touch your arms or your waist.

Due to the substantial amount of liquor in his system, his confidence was at an all time high and he attempted to lean in for a kiss. You snorted at his juvenile gesture and turned the other cheek. “N-Nice try. Fun’s over.”

“Oh come on.” He insisted. As you were about to free yourself of his hold, he tightened his grip on your waist and it caught you off guard. Little does he know that you aren’t human, so you prepared yourself to use your vampire strength to free yourself. You smirked, allowing him this minor moment before you stripped it away from him.

The drunkard fool leaned forward once again to press his lips onto yours while his hands stroked your waist. You rolled your eyes, snickering as you seized his wrists. “I said-” In a flash, he was thrown across the dancefloor but it wasn’t because of you. Some of the clubbers' attention were focused on what just happened and others acted like nothing happened. Before he could think to stand to his feet, one of the sizable bouncers roughly brought him to his feet to begin dragging him out.

Everything happened so fast and you focused your view to the only person standing beside you to your left. Klaus Mikaelson. “Oh fuck you, Nik.” You grimaced at your inessential savior, your heels rapidly clicking off of the dance floor towards the exit. As much as you wished to vamp speed away, you were smart enough not to do it in the public eye. Humanity off or not.

Instead of hiding off in an alley, you stayed put by the entrance of the club where passersby can clearly see you, leaning against one of the brick walls. You searched through your small purse until you found a cigarette and lighter, but as you were about to light it, rough fingers pulled it out of your mouth.

Klaus didn’t mutter a word, but you can tell by the expression on his face and his body language that he was seething inwardly. You were revelling in the moment. “I’m a vampire. I can’t get lung cancer, idiot.” You scoffed at him. As much as you want to try to light another cigarette, you know that Klaus is just going to toss it.

“We’re going.” He grabbed a hold of your bare upper arm, signaling to follow him or suffer the consequences. You shook his grip off, unphased by it.

“You’re hilarious.” You said, keeping your feet planted to the ground. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I’m serious, love. This isn’t a game. Let’s go.” Klaus remarked, towering over you.

You peered up at him through your lashes, shooting daggers. “Did you forget? I don’t fucking care. Now leave me alone.” You shot him a glare and attempted to walk past him, but he stepped to the side as a wall.

“You out of all people know what I am capable of.” Klaus started. “And yet, you are determined to incur my wrath.”

“Your wrath?” You snorted. “Okay then, show me. Right here, right now. In front of all of these people.” Klaus took a peep over your head, unmoving. You hummed in amusement. “I thought so.”

You wasted no time and began trekking down bourbon street’s sidewalk, unsure of where you are headed as long as it’s away from Klaus. You freed your cell phone from your purse and began endlessly scrolling through social media, ensuring not to bump into anyone coming your way.

To your misfortune, Klaus materialized beside you, walking on the outside of the sidewalk. “Oh, you’re still here.” You said dryly, eyes never leaving the screen.

“In what world is this heretic worth your humanity?” He asked, disgusted. His eyes flickered from straight ahead to you.

“My world, apparently.”

“You know, you have people that could have helped you. There’s Stefan, Damon, Kol.” One by one, Klaus counted up to three fingers in the air before going back to relaxing his hand at his side. “Even Rebekah, if it weren’t for Kol’s foolish prank.”

“Good to know, Nik.”

He gazed at you, swallowing before speaking. “You also had me.”

“I can see that since you keep following me.” You finally peeled your eyes from your phone, throwing it back in your purse, raising your chin up at Klaus. He briskly narrowed his eyes, not allowing your cold response to get to him.

“Oh come now, sweetheart. Let’s not make this difficult for the both of us.”

“You’re making it difficult for yourself.” You waved an airy hand. “Now shoo, you’re killing the vibe.”

“Alright then, Y/N. I’ve been far more patient with you.” Klaus creeped up behind you and swiftly cracked your spine so that you were comatose. Then, he scooped you into his arms so that he held you bridal style.

To his luck, his swift, yet flawless gesture didn’t get a second look from anyone in the crowd. It seemed as if you were absurdly tipsy and he prevented you from falling to your knees. He felt a pang of relief and his tense shoulders relaxed knowing he can safely bring you home.

(Later…)

Finn’s barrier spell throughout the Mikaelson compound is now nonexistent. It is dead silent and the only two souls occupying this vast structure are you and the original hybrid for now. Your limp, unconscious body is tied to a wooden chair including your wrists and your ankles.

Klaus has been pacing for the past few minutes, conjuring up different plans to mentally bring back the woman he loves, instead of this facade of a nightmare that is taking over. And hell, if it weren’t for your humanity switch, he would revel in tearing that dress off of you and making love to you until the sunrise.

The sudden sound of your groaning put a halt to his steps. He watched as your head steadily moved up and you cracked your neck. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your surroundings which appears to be one of the many rooms in this godforsaken building. You raised a brow at your lover who is standing merely a few feet away just ahead of you. “This doesn’t look like the Ritz-Carlton.” You said in your head.

“It would be impolite if I didn’t ask how your catnap was.” Klaus commented, wearing a shit eating grin.

“It was fantastic.” You returned his cocky expression with a flashing smile of your own.

“Now that I have you where you can’t simply walk off, let’s get to business then, shall we?” Klaus took amble strides towards you and kneeled until he was at eye level with you. “This will only take a second.” He noted, voice low enough for only the two of you to hear.

As soon as his irises stared into yours, you turned your chin to the right, but Klaus was quick to seize your jaw with his strong fingers, shifting your view back to him. You knew exactly what his intentions were at that very moment.

He’s going to compel you.

The location of the white oak stake is still unknown to him and since he is closer to getting you back to your normal self, he’ll finally get the stake back.

“Get on with it already. I don’t have all day.” You implied. Klaus kept his frustration in check from your moronic remark and went on with what he intended to do.

Your eyes focused on his, observing his pupils fascinatingly growing and shrinking. "You will put an end to this madness and turn it back on.” He released his grasp on your face.

You blinked twice and your lips parted, chest rising and falling. “Nik.” You paused. “I-” Klaus began freeing one wrist from the bindings.

“What is it?” He asked, concerned.

As soon as one wrist was free, you sneered at him and before he could blink, you tore off the arm of the chair, flipped it over so that the sharp bit pointed out and stabbed Klaus in the neck with it. “Ah!” He called out, face contorting from the unexpected laceration.

Obviously, you could have simply kept playing it off as if your humanity was back so that Klaus frees you of all of the restraints. But, you wanted to poke fun at him instead. Inflicting pain onto Klaus was significantly more gratifying right now.

“You really thought you had me there, didn’t you?” You let out a burst of laughter. Klaus cried out in pain while pulling the stick of wood out of his neck and tossing it to the floor, taking heavy breaths as the gash healed. “Nice try, Nik. But I’ve been drinking vervain as of late. Thanks to Stefan and Damon for the tip.”

Instead of inflicting the pain back to you or snapping your neck to shut you up, Klaus stormed out of the room to overlook the courtyard from the railing. As much as he wanted to rip the railing off from his frustration, he shockingly kept his cool and an idea came to mind. He obtained his cell phone from his pant pocket and dialed a familiar number.

After many rings, his call was answered.

“Klaus?” The voice on the other line said.

“Hello, old friend.” Klaus grinned, oddly comforted to hear their voice. “I’m in need of a favor.”

A/N: Hope you guys appreciated the longer chapter!! I know the last one had a lot of Y/N x Kol moments, so I gave you guys more of Y/N x Klaus moments in this one. I have to say, it was quite fun writing with Y/N’s humanity off. And it was especially fun writing Klaus’s responses to it lol...Oh and I’m sure you guys can guess who Klaus’s ‘old friend’ is :)

TAGS: @ynm1505 @ravenmoore14@xdontxcare @seasiren96@anyasthoughts @woodworthti666 @agentmarvel13@miss-lumiere@elizabeth-ann1090 @physically-a-cheesecake@azhar1422 @morsmornte @retrocontessa @kollover24 @thewolf-and-thesheep @xoxoaudreymarie @dezzym17@siphonersalvatore @yolobloggers @akshi8278 @simonsaysyasss @eggingamazinglove @brooklymw @baseballbitch116 @hyperion-moonbabe @iamjustaslytherinrose @lillianeh879 @hannahzlee @bokettolove @gangofhoes @sashimi-cat @marvel-ousnesss @deathkat657 @rauwz @star-adorned @bobamilqtea @lunareclipse-e @krazykatkay456 @geeksareunique @hybridgirl99 @romyislief @psychicwinnerstranger @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @derangedcupcake @yaniiie @classyunknownlover @britty443 @mockingjayd12 @ophellis @prospathww @the-specific-oceans @riverdaleserpent04 @bank-of-rubytowne @ballet-royale @sunflowersandsins @fakebeech @alka16555 @allllzcatt-blog @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis @its4everjenny @mikaelson-emma @lilulo-12 @unhappy-hannah @hookedtoherfire @smol-quackson @hxppy-ghxst @ivarthegoddess @nick-1432 @simonsbluee @0moonlightthoughts0 @proudjaden @lalunasuenos @blonddnamedhandz @princekooks @supernatural-swiftie08 @2kayla64 @hernameisnoellex3 @grim91103 @asusualitasterin @un-namedstalker @a-who-e @mother-dearest-loves-me @un-namedstalker @lauren-novak @elijahspersonalwifeyyy @wayward-river @random-stupid-stuffs @fangirlforever2412 @girlqrush

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

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holly's august extravaganza day 4: a friend in me

📍 anon - I don't know but I feel like Carlos and Nancy can have such an awesome best friend dynamic. Maybe something sad/scary regarding Nancy happens where she has to make a report at the precinct and Carlos doesn't tell anyone as she made him promise so he starts to just check on Nancy and they just develop this caring, supportive, beautiful, fun, full of banter friendship to the amusement of TK and the 126.

kept this separate from your original ask because i want to keep those other prompts you sent alongside this one for later 😊

ao3 | 2k | hurt/comfort, brief references to gun violence, mostly just carlos and nancy being besties

Carlos has never seen Nancy look so small.

She’s sitting hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, hands seemingly moving of their own volition to tear the empty styrofoam cup in front of her to shreds. As soon as Carlos had seen her being escorted into the precinct, shaking like a leaf and clutching her coat like a lifeline, he’d persuaded the officer with her to let him take over the case. His association with the 126 is well known so the officer had been reluctant, but Carlos had managed to wear him down, saying that he doesn’t really know Nancy that well.

And it’s—it’s not exactly a full lie. Through their hangs and TK’s stories, he’s coming to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But of her personal life, Carlos knows next to nothing; she mentioned a sister a few weeks ago, and TK delights in teasing her about her growing crush on Marjan, but that’s about it.

He needs to make more of an effort, he decides. When they’re anywhere else but a police station.

Carlos knocks lightly on the door to announce his presence before entering the room, sending her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Nancy visibly relaxes at the sight of him and she drops the remains of her cup, though Carlos doesn’t miss the continuing tremble to her hands.

“Hey Nancy,” he says, sliding into the seat opposite her. “How are you doing?”

Nancy’s lips twitch, the corners barely curving into the beginnings of a wry smile. She breathes out shakily, meeting Carlos’s eyes for the briefest second before staring back down at the table. “I’m not great,” she answers, and for her to admit to that… Well, Carlos suspects it’s not a regular occurrence.

He nods, reluctantly pulling out his notebook and pen, hesitating before flipping to the next blank page. Nancy tracks his movements, resignation clearly etched all over her features. Carlos glances at the two-way mirror—not that it does him any good—then reaches across the table to take Nancy’s hand.

“We don’t have to do this right now,” he murmurs. “If you need more time, just say the word and I’ll leave. Or if you’d prefer to talk to someone you don’t know, we can do that too. Anything you need.”

The sudden tightness of Nancy’s grip is unexpected, as is the flash of panic in her eyes.

“Please, don’t go,” she whispers. “I don’t—” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes and breathing slowly for a few seconds. Slowly, her hold on Carlos begins to loosen until her hand is slack in his, then she draws both hands into her lap and straightens in her chair. When her eyes reopen, she seems more like the Nancy Carlos knows—strong, confident, assertive—though there’s still clearly an undercurrent of fear underneath it all.

“I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

Carlos bites back an are you sure and settles for clicking his pen, his smile unwavering. “Can you run me through what happened, exactly?” he asks. “Take your time.”

A second or two passes, then Nancy nods, her voice steady when she speaks. “I was restocking the bus at the end of shift. I was alone; Captain Vega was in her office and TK was with the others in the showers—he did try to help but he’d had to go into a fire on our last call to help a patient and the smell of smoke was giving me a headache, so I told him to go.”

Carlos pauses in his note-taking, mentally filing that last piece of information away for follow-up as soon as he sees his boyfriend again. Judging by the amused quirk to Nancy’s eyebrow, she’s fully aware of where his mind has gone, so Carlos clears his throat and motions for her to continue, forcing his thoughts back to the present.

“Like I said, I was alone. I didn’t mind it; it was kind of relaxing, you know? Then this guy appeared from nowhere and pointed a gun at me, saying if I called out or turned on the siren or anything, he’d shoot. I thought—” She inhales sharply, her knuckles going white on the tabletop and her jaw clenching tightly. Her voice sounds different when she next speaks, more controlled, as though forcing each word out. “I thought it was happening again. I thought he was going to take me somewhere, make me his personal pet paramedic, something like that.

“Turns out, he just wanted drugs. I gave him what we had on the rig and he seemed satisfied, so I figured he’d shoot me anyway ‘cause I’d seen his face, right? He didn’t—obviously—but it looked like he was considering it.” Nancy pauses and flicks her gaze up at Carlos, biting her lip. “I think he might have done it,” she admits quietly, “but he got spooked by one of the guys making noise so he just bolted. I’m not sure how long it was between that and TK coming back and finding me. I’m sorry.”

Carlos shakes his head. “It’s okay. We can check the cameras at the station. With luck, that should get us an ID, maybe a license plate if he drove. I think that’s almost everything; just one more question, if that’s okay. Can you tell me what you gave him exactly?”

Nancy nods. “Morphine, Ativan, tramadol… I’d have to check stocks for the exact amounts.”

“We’ll do that, don’t worry about it.” Carlos taps his pen on the pages before flipping his notebook shut and leaning across the table again. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. “Speaking as a friend and not a cop, if there’s anything you need, anything I can help with, let me know.”

She smiles wanly. “I’m okay. I just want to go home and forget all this ever happened.”

“Fair enough. I’ll walk you out to your car.”

Carlos half-expects her to brush him off, but she just nods and allows him to escort her back through the precinct and out to her car. He dithers awkwardly, shuffling his feet as Nancy turns to him, one hand on the door handle.

“Thank you, Carlos. For real. I have the feeling it wasn't a coincidence that you were the one in that room with me.”

The tips of Carlos’s ears go pink as he finds himself caught out. “That, uh… That would not be inaccurate.”

“Well, thanks.” She pulls open the car door and Carlos takes a step back, wanting to wait until she’s safely away to go back inside. Nancy ducks as if to get in, then pauses and straightens again, biting her lip as she looks back at him.

“Hey, Carlos?” she says. “Can you do me a favour and not tell the others? Not even TK. They— They know vaguely what happened, but I’d prefer it if the details and, uh, some of the other stuff I told you could be kept between us.”

He agrees immediately, just grateful that she trusts him enough to handle this for her. “No-one will know any more than they need to,” he promises, which seems to relieve her. She thanks him again, then gets in the car and drives away, Carlos watching after her with one hand raised in farewell.

It grows from there.

It’s not intentional exactly, but one text to check up on her soon turns into a steady stream of messages, stories and jokes and even the occasional meme passing back and forth between them. Carlos especially appreciated Nancy's carefully curated collection of dirt on TK, which, as a concerned boyfriend, it is his duty to know. Many a conversation has been spent griping about TK's accident prone ways or sighing over his latest mishap.

Lovingly, of course.

Nancy, 15.48: you’ll never guess what happened this time

Carlos, 16.22: ?

In answer, he receives a picture of a dejected-looking TK sprawled on the floor with Buttercup’s front paws squarely resting on his chest. Buttercup’s tongue is lolling out, a wide grin on his face, and in the background stand the rest of the crew. All of them also seem to have their phones pointed towards TK—probably the reason TK looks so down, as Carlos knows his boyfriend couldn’t be upset with Buttercup to save his life.

Nancy, 16.26: he thought he’d try to teach buttercup some tricks. turns out, dog trainers exist for a reason

Carlos has to stifle a laugh—technically, he is supposed to be working—but his attempt at being subtle is thwarted when his phone repeatedly pings with similar texts and photos from Paul, Marjan, and Mateo. He screenshots the sudden influx of notifications and sends it to Nancy before saving every single photo.

Nancy responds with a laughing emoji and a promise to keep him updated.

Not all of their conversations are about TK, naturally.

Carlos, 19.10: I don’t understand why you don’t just talk to her

Nancy, 19.12: i do talk to her. every shift, actually

Carlos, 19.13: Nancy

Nancy, 19.13: carlos

Nancy, 19.14: i don’t even know if she’s into women, alright? it’s not like i can just march up and ask, that’s like waving a banner saying ‘hey, i’m in love with you’ in her face

Carlos, 19.16: Oh, we’re talking about love now, are we?

Nancy, 19.17: can it, reyes

Carlos, 19.20: Noted. Look, take it from someone who’s been navigating gay relationships in Texas his whole life. Sometimes you just have to go for it. Ask her for coffee, test the waters, see where it leads. You never know, it might work out. I mean, look at me

Nancy, 19.24: wow, way to rub your happiness in my face 😑

(Carlos doesn’t find out if she follows his advice, but he does notice her and Marjan showing up to their hangs together)

(Nancy does not appreciate his smugness)

Without even realising, they become a formidable team. This fact is highlighted one game night about three months after the incident, when Nancy and Marjan blow into his and TK’s house, a determined glint in both their eyes.

“We’re switching up the teams,” Marjan declares, much to TK’s outrage.

“What? Why?”

“Because,” Nancy continues, “we’re tired of losing to you guys. You’re like, freakishly good at board games and it’s not fair. Plus, we have to watch you both being all lovey all the time when you’re on the same team and it’s exhausting. We want to see you being competitive for once.”

TK pouts, but Carlos just shrugs when he looks to him for backup. “It’ll be fun,” he says, smiling at Nancy and Marjan. TK still looks put out, so he leans in close and half-murmurs, “C’mon babe. How about a prize for the winner?”

TK perks up considerably at the suggestion, and, going by the twin looks of despair on Nancy and Marjan’s faces, they caught both the comment and the innuendo. Marjan groans and Nancy raises her eyes skyward, as if pleading for divine intervention.

“This was a great idea, actually,” TK says, grinning. He quirks an eyebrow at Nancy. “You and me, Nance?”

That seems to shake Nancy out of her silent prayers for strength. “Uh, no. I’m with Carlos.” To emphasise the point, she strides forward and grabs Carlos’s arm, dragging him to the couch. He nudges her gently when they sit, smirking at the disgruntled way she digs into the snack bowl.

“You did say you wanted to see us being competitive.”

“Shut up.”

In the end, TK ends up paired with Mateo, and Marjan with Paul. It’s clear from the outset who’s going to win—Nancy and Carlos dominate the board, and not even Paul’s master strategy is enough to catch up with them.

They win by a comfortable margin, fist-bumping in celebration. There’s a general air of bemusement in the room, and when Carlos looks round at the others, he finds four pairs of eyes fixed on them.

“What?”

“Since when have you two been such a good team?” Paul asks, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow.

Carlos shrugs, sharing a smile with Nancy. “Guess we just are.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #nancy gillian #marjan marwani #tk strand #tarlos #lone star #911ls #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #📍 anon

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