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bi-writes · 2 months

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so idk where i got this idea but mercenary!ghost x fem!reader because he's scary and mean and dangerous but then he sees some girl's ass in light blue denim.

notes about reader: as always, i tend to write readers described as curvy because im curvy and we deserve attention from 6'4 beefcakes who are soft only for us. reader is a civilian.

mercenary!ghost (part 1/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mentions of ghost's past canon trauma (domestic abuse + violence), mw3 spoilers, violence and gore + mentions of murder and extortion, mentions of reader + domestic abuse, protective!simon, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than simon, easily manhandled by him), pet names (luv, bunny + rabbit, puppy, angel face), reader learns she has a dark side and she likes it, nsfw thoughts about reader, suggestive touching (fem!receiving)

the sound of the burner phone pings on the desk in front of him. when he picks it up, he narrows his eyes as he reads the message displayed across the screen.

DEPOSITED.

when he opens his laptop, his eyes scan over the balance on an offshore account, and he relaxes when he sees the hefty balance climb just a little higher. he closes the device once he's satisfied with what he sees; and like always, he tastes the warmth of that satisfaction. it's a nice high, but it won't last, and then he'll need to feed the gaping hole that lives in him.

it remains hungry. he has never been able to close it--it has only ever gotten wider, ripped at the seams and torn at the edges every time another body close to him drops.

the high is poison. but even if it kills him, no one will miss him. so he picks up the handgun that lays haphazard on the bed, and he tucks it into the back of his jeans.

he passes by the mirror as he fits a dark denim jacket over his shoulders. he stares back at himself, a recognizable beast of a man staring right back. he pulls his hoodie up over him, and in the shadow of it, all he can see are his dark eyes, pale skin peeking through the eyeblack that has lightened up with the wear of it throughout the day.

he craves something strong and warm tonight. he itches for something soft, too, something that makes him forget the red on his ledger, even if for only a few hours.

there is nothing quite strong enough to wipe that kind of stain away. he is nothing if not a reaper, and he buries bodies with the same tenacity that he had when he wore his country's flag on his chest. this time, however, he does not take orders--he names his price.

he thinks something is wrong with him. some used to say that it was his courage that brought him back from the dead--that his heart is too strong, his will to live too much, and that is how he continues to open his eyes and live another day. but he doesn't agree with this thought, because he doesn't really think he feels anything at all.

he doesn't feel human. he doesn't feel alive. the only thing that makes him feel any sort of vulnerability is how red his own blood is when he bleeds. when his scars heal jagged and crooked, it is because there is something underneath the skin. but he feels nothing inside--no remorse, no guilt, he is not sorry.

he does not check to see if those men are innocent. he does not care about the names that end up on his list. he doesn't ask questions. and he thinks something is wrong with him because he sleeps at night just fine now; the nightmares have gone. he is alone, and it is peaceful.

there are no voices. there is only silence. and there is something wrong with him.

the pub is quiet. it is a weekday, and the only patrons are here after a long day's work, and they all look into the depths of their half-empty glasses hoping to find relief there. there is none, but they will finish their glasses hoping it might be dissolved in the alcohol.

he asks for two fingers of bourbon. it stings when it goes down, but then it settles warm. he is poured another two fingers of it, but before he can pick it up, someone else grips the glass and tips it back to swallow it down.

the glass hits the wood of the counter with an echoing thud, and you cough out a fuck as you settle into the seat beside him. you run a trembling hand over your face, and he notices immediately the red of your knuckles and the splitting of the skin there. they are fresh; the bruising is still new, and the blood is just barely beginning run down the back of your hand.

he leans over the bar, swiping the whole bottle of bourbon, and he silently pours more into the glass, hitting it towards you before picking up a new glass and filling it generously.

"who's the lucky bastard?" he asks, and your eyes flick to the cuts on the back of your hand before going back to the dark swirling colors of the drink.

"i'm sure he'll be coming in here any second to introduce himself."

the pub doors slam open, and there is a man coming in, chest heaving, dark hair falling over his forehead in sweaty curls that do nothing to hide the clear bruise on his face the split of his lip. his eyes move over the room before they settle on you, and his boots fall heavy as he makes his way over.

ghost sees his intentions clear immediately. the way his hand twitches at his side, the angry glare, the uncontrollable urge to hurt and to take and to control coming off of him like steam.

he has seen this kind of man before. this man was the one that kept him up at night as a child. this man was the one that scared his mum, that drove his brother to chase vices, that tore apart a house that should've been filled with something warm and sticky and kind into one marred with teeth, rotten and putrid and forgotten.

his hand goes for the back of your neck, and you close your eyes and tense in the anticipation, but it never comes. a strong hand grips his outstretched one, and the man cries out as ghost twists it behind his back and uses his other hand to slam his face into the wood of the bar, trapping him there.

the bartender does not even flinch, just continues to wipe down glasses. the patrons continue to stare into the abyss of their sorrow.

you jump a little, your head snapping to the side where the man squirms and sputters, his face going pale from the paw of a hand gripping him by the back of the neck and shoving his face into the counter. if he pushes any harder, you wonder if it'd splinter and fray, dig into the bones of his bruised cheek.

"this man botherin' ya, yeah?"

your eyes finally flick up. you do not know what you expect, but it isn't this. you can only see his eyes; they scare you. you do not lie because you aren't entirely sure how far his kindness will go.

"yes," you whisper, and when the man tries to spit at you, a rough gloved hand grips his curls and positions his head against the edge of the counter, forcing his mouth open until the top row of his teeth bite the wood.

"y'keep talkin' to her, n'it'll be the last time you talk, hear that, mate? y'talk to me, n'me only."

you swallow hard, and the man trembles. a strong boot hits the back of his knees, and then he's crumbling to the ground, his jaw straining as the counter is still forced against his mouth. hot, pained tears come down his face, and then he addresses you.

"what did he do?"

"bad first date," is all you can manage to sputter. he grips the man by the scruff of his neck before pulling him off to speak, tilting his head to the side as he observes the begging man on his knees.

"y'try to put your hands on'er?"

"i-it wasn't...like that! i-it was just a mis...a misunderstanding, please! please--please tell him--!"

"don't like fuckin' liars either," is the only warning given before his mouth is forced to bite the counter, and then a sharp elbow comes down on his head. you jump in surprise at the suddenness of it all, and you close your eyes when you hear the crunch of teeth being broken. his scream is enough to rattle the pub, but when you look around, it's as if nothing at all has happened. it is quiet, and all the bartender does is shake their head.

when you open your eyes, he's crawling on his hands and knees out of the pub, and what he leaves behind is a mess of blood and teeth and fluid that are splattered against the floor at your feet. you shake as you look up at him, stiff in your seat and soft tears coming down your face.

he towers over you. you have to tilt your head back between your shoulders to look at him face-to-face. you cannot see his face; he hides it behind dark fabric, but his eyes talk loud. they are dark, and they are dull, and you realize as you stare up at him that he is not phased in the slightest by what he had just done. in fact, he steps into your space, and the squelch of blood under his boot doesn't seem to bother him. he wears black, and you wonder, momentarily, if he wears such a color to hide the red hiding between the threads of the fabric. the red he can't wash away.

"let me look at ya, little rabbit."

you flinch when he knocks your knees apart, spreading them to make space for the width of him. he reaches up with one gloved hand and grips your chin, tilting your head to either side to see if you are hurt anywhere but your hand. when he is satisfied with his observations, he cups the expanse of your throat, smoothing those big fingers along the pulsing vein there and feeling the way you swallow.

so alive. so soft. a pretty little bunny, dropped into his waiting hands.

his eyes fall, and he takes you in. wide hips that take up the seat you're sitting in, hugged so nicely by light blue denim jeans. they curve over the swell of your ass, and he wonders how much of it would fit in his palm--he thinks about how it might feel to spread them apart and taste the succulent sweetness that he knows exists between your thighs and how your mouth might look slack jawed and wide open for him.

you look like a good girl, even with bloody knuckles.

then he follows the line of your shirt. it's a simple t-shirt tucked into your jeans, but the neckline gives a nice peek of you and the curve of your tits--they sit so nicely there, all perky, and ghost thinks they look lonely. they would be better off in his mouth or squeezing his cock between them or pebbling between his dirty gloved fingers.

filthy. disgusting. he is scarred all over, and you look so soft and sweet, with those tender puppy eyes and the way your lips tremble, and he bets you kiss all soft and slippery. he bets your cunt is tight and with enough coaxing, he could make you drench his skin with something decadent and slick, with whatever drools into your panties. he imagines it is there now, even as you tremble and shake and plead with your eyes for him to let go of your throat.

but ghost is not a good man. he does not feel; he is not a man at all. he is a beast in the shape of one, disguised, and he brings misery to everything he touches. he knows he will do it to you, too--touching pretty girls, he leaves them with burns. they are not the same after they are with him, and he wants to feel bad about it, he wants to feel something, but he does not. he feels nothing.

"you olright, luv?"

you nod frantically, putting a hand over his wrist that holds you, and he almost laughs. your hand is so much smaller than his own. if he squeezes his hand just a little harder, he figures it would not take much to break what lies beneath it. he leans in, and you gulp when your thighs trap his hips. he is warm, a furnace that burns, but you relax when the side of his mask nuzzles against your face.

he is a dog, and he is fond of you.

you should run. you should hit him like you hit your wretched date, and you should run, far, away from him, swear off men for good and never allow one in your space again lest they be as beastly as this. you should run while you can, but you are a bunny not yet in his trap, and you still have time to escape.

but then both of your eyes open at the same time, and his eyes meet your own, and then--oh.

the cage snaps shut. it rattles around you. it is small and confined, but you don't realize what it is yet because you can still breathe, and it is still warm, and you are still soft and alive and here.

your face softens, and his eyes flicker down to your lips as you lick them. maybe he was right. liars are bad. men like the one you were with before were scum. you had been with men like that before, you had seen the destruction they brought to those they thought they loved. when they wrought fear and made others bleed, they never got in trouble. no one cared to do to them what they deserved because they silenced their lambs and slaughtered the light out of them.

it is biblical--an eye for an eye. if they take from you, why can't you take from them?

it is brutish men like this one that do what others are too timid to. your thighs close around his hips, and you feel something digging into your leg, something metal and heavy tucked into his jeans. a weapon, but you imagine it is a mercy because you have an inkling that what he does with his hands is so much worse. bullets are clean and fast; his hands are not.

johnny would tell him to let you go. he does, over his shoulder, spitting at him to leave, to let you slip through his fingers and find your way out, to open the cage.

the wee lass--look at 'er angel face. let 'er go--not meant for this, LT. she scares. 's in 'er eyes. won't last.

but he does not feel. he is not human. there is something wrong with him, he knows it, but he doesn't care. he will ruin you, and he should feel bad, but he can't, he doesn't. and then there it is--your eyes are flickering low, eyeing the mask, and you are wondering how much effort it would take to push it up and lick into his mouth, taste him, suck the warmth of the bourbon from his mouth and replace it with your own.

he will kill again. the cage is shut, it is locked, and he is watching the bunny in its cage, watching as it becomes aware of its surroundings, takes in what is new. but just like he figures, just like he knows, this little bunny has no idea what this cage is. she has no idea she is even in one.

fuck what johnny says. if johnny was like him, if he was not skin and bone but steel and reptile, he would not have died. he would have come back. he would have moved his head, shaken the blood off, and gotten back up, but he didn't, and he's not here, and he's not real--so fuck what he thinks, fuck what he says, fuck him because he left me, and i'm all alone, and if i don't devour and eat and tear apart, i will wither away because i am not me, i am something else--

he smiles under the mask. you notice it, the slight movement there, and you smile, too, suddenly. his hand falls, and the back of his knuckles graze over the swell of your breast, down your stomach, and then he's gripping your waist. that hand slips behind you, and you brace yourself with both hands on his chest as he cups one side of your ass. possessive and suffocating--you think maybe you should run again, but you don't want to.

you want something more. you want something a little rough, something a little sharp. you want something to tell you that a little blood is good sometimes. that answering blood with a little more blood was exactly how it should be. that we don't have to be docile, to back down. you want to be told that it's okay to bite.

there is something wrong with you.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!ghost #dark!simon riley #dark!simon

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heartless-tate · 2 months

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Hopelessly falling ❀ Azriel X reader

summary: Azriel is hopelessly pining after you. He rescued you two months ago and now you live in the library and help the priestesses. He spends everyday wrapped in thoughts of you, but you barely even seem to know he exists.

A/n : Hey guys! This is my first fic for this fandom, I had another account for a different fandom. But I’ve always loved SJM world and I think it’s time I started writing for it. If you want part two let me know! <3

word count; 2k

warnings; disturbing details of gore? Cussing, death, family death, mentions of murder, reader forgetting to eat, depression, blood mention, I think that covers it all? No use of y/n

Blood- blood was everywhere- and all he could focus on were eyes filled with terror staring back at him- Azriel shook the horrendous memory out of his head, wishing it had never happened this way.

Thousands of memories had compiled in his head over the 500 years of his existence, most of them being horrifying and kept him awake at night, but that night seemed to haunt him the most. But as much as he hated to say it- that night was the only reason he met you. Oh, fate was such a cruel, cruel, cruel- creature. Because that night was the same reason he never had the pleasure of seeing you smile. You now worked in the library with priestesses who had endured the same trauma as you, and while he was hoping one day you would heal mentally, he knew the chances were rare.

Azriel stretched his stiff wings and adjusted to standing on his left foot, letting the other rest. He was cloaked by his shadows as he watched you re-shelve books and push along the book cart. You seemed lost in thought, your mind in a far, far, far away place. He watched as that doll-like, lifeless, depressed look came over your face, and he wanted to growl and rip to shreds whatever was upsetting you- but he knew that he couldn't shred memories- and it made him feel more hopeless than anything. He hated it. He wanted to make you feel safe again, and make those beautiful lips spread with joy, your eyes gleaming with happiness.

He had saved you that night, wrapping you in his arms after he had killed off the attackers. He flew you to a healer, and let you make the choice of where you wanted to go- which was here. He hadn't had contact with you ever since, but thoughts of you plagued his mind making him desperate for a lick of attention from you. He wanted to give you time to heal but at this point it seemed the stench of depression on you had grown stronger everyday.

A thump sounded, snatching him away from his thoughts, as a priestess dropped off a giant stack of books in your cart to shelve. He watched as you winced at the noise, turning and sighing at the amount of books in the cart. Your eyes darkened and he knew that your mind went back to that awful place. He couldn't stand it- at this rate he was ready to put underwear on his head and dance like a maniac if it would make you smile.

You. You, you, you, you. Every time he saw you, it was like everything else stopped- the world stopping, and you- your mere presence was demanding his attention. A room full of hundreds of females and males pining after him- wouldn't even take his attention from you if you were hiding in the corner.

Azriel cursed himself, realizing he was so- hopelessly and shamelessly falling for you.

__________________________

Your cart was filled with at least 60 books at this point. People never realize how much work goes into helping at a library. After- that day, you spent your time in between the shelves, putting books back where they belonged. Usually, the work was enough to distract you from what happened two months ago. But when it was late in the hours of night and it was just you and the quiet darkness, your thoughts always went to that same place.

Screams- men shouting- and then utter silence. Piercing hazel eyes were staring at you. Arms were wrapping around you, everything was eerily quiet now. You swear you could hear blood dripping onto the floor from the body of your sibling.

“No- my- don’t take me from them please-“

Your words fell on deaf ears, whoever was carrying you pushed your head into their shoulder. You couldn’t see your sibling anymore- your hands started clawing at the jackets of whoever was taking you away- they were taking you away from them-

“Hey- it’s okay, you’re safe now. I’ve got you, I’m gonna take you to a healer, okay?” The man said. His voice was oddly gentle and sad in a way- why was he sad? It wasn’t his family who was brutally murdered in front of him. It was yours, and he was taking you away from them. Your mouth opened to scream at him to let go, but your mind processed his words. Healer? Why did you need a healer? You couldn’t feel anything. It was like everything was numb. You forcefully lifted your head despite his hands trying to block your sight. You were now in your living room, and everything reeked of death. Blood was everywhere. In the corner your fathers corpse laid still, eyes wide and unblinking. His stomach had been cut open, his organs spilling onto the floor.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream. “Papa-“

You gasped as you heard a loud noise of something falling. It was late in the evening- barely anyone was here. It was just you and a few other priestesses, and they were graceful. They rarely made loud noises like that.

Your head snapped to where the noise was from, and you spot him.

The shadowsinger was squatted on the ground picking up a book he had dropped. His eyes scanned the room as if making sure nobody had seen him being clumsy, until they landed on you. His cheeks flushed a little, and he offered you a shy smile as he stood and placed the book back in its proper place.

You wondered how he managed to drop a book- he was the night court’s spy master for cauldron’s sake! His eyes didn’t leave yours once. Some of the priestesses gossiped of his beauty, and fuck. They weren’t lying. It obviously wasn’t your first time seeing him, but it was odd to see him down here. He must’ve had Clotho’s permission. His staring was enough to make you squirm uncomfortable, and you watched as he went to take a step towards you. Nope.

You slammed your last book for this section on the shelf and grabbed your cart, rolling it away- far away from the shadowsinger. You didn’t bother turning to see his reaction as you stomped away, the racketing of the cart loud.

——————————————

Clotho shook her head with a sigh as she watched you run in. She waved a hand as you arrived at her desk, signaling she wouldn’t report you were late this time.This wasn’t the first time you had been late, here lately it was getting harder to get out of bed. The only reason you had managed to crawl out of your bed was because the memories were becoming too loud.

You thanked her, nodding your head appreciatively as you walked to where you last left your cart. It had about 50 books, and without a doubt that number would rise as you made your way through the floors. You gave the cart a test push, and a squeaky racket sounded from it. It was getting louder everyday. Clotho flinched at the sound a look of distaste towards the cart would be on her face- you’re sure of it. She holds up a sticky note that reads, ‘I’ll put in an order for a new one today.’ You gave her a thumbs up before pushing your loud cart to where you would start off for the day.

Time passes by either slowly or fastly depending where your thoughts are for the day, and you wonder if you’re going insane by the time it gets to 3 pm. Whether the growing insanity feeling is from the squeaky racket of your cart or the fact you forgot breakfast and lunch today, you’re not sure. The library gets old quick. The first month you were here, it was easy to be distracted by the towering bookshelves and the thousands upon thousands of books you see everyday. But here lately the sights grow old, and the sound of this cart is enough to make you wonder if you should check yourself into a therapist. But atlas, you don’t. You continue the waltz of shelving books everyday. As the library grows more boring everyday, you wonder if its the right place for you. You wonder if it was the right decision to stay here, considering you feel worse then you ever did.

If it wasn’t for the fact if you left you wouldn’t have any idea what to do with your life, you would’ve asked the high lord to assist you in moving to Velaris. But what would you do with your life? Rot in bed all day?

You hear a loud grumble, and you look around the library before realizing it was your stomach. It had been making unearthly sounds since 1 pm, yelling at you to eat. But it was too late, it was 3 pm. Your hands clutched at your stomach, begging it to stop. You’d eat dinner later around 5, just a few more hours away.

Oh well, there wasn’t anything to be done. You grasped a book from your cart, turning and shelving it. Your stomach growled again, distracting you from the squeaky noise your cart made. But it didn’t hide the loud thumping noise- as if someone had tripped. You turned, only catching a glimpse of a dark shadow behind the bookshelves. Your steps were loud as you stomped out of the corner you had been in, looking for whoever it had been. But there was nothing. Nobody was near. This floor was empty except for you. Were you finally insane enough to hallucinate? You groaned in sync with your stomach as you turned back around, walking to your cart. A delicious smell- of chocolate and butter invaded your nose. You cursed whoever had entered the library with food that smelt so good, until you spotted the box sitting on your cart. That hadn’t been there. You approach your cart, eyeing the box. It was a white paperish box. You looked around again, scanning if anyone had left it here on accident but no one was near.

Curiosity got the best of you and you slowly opened the box. In it was a collection of pastries. Chocolate croissants, cookies, cupcakes, fudge- the whole bakery practically! Your stomach growled in desire. You snapped the box shut- this wasn’t yours. Right? Someone probably accidentally left it. But one bite couldn’t hurt? No! You shouldn’t. That box was clearly worth around a 100 gold coins, it would be wrong to indulge in its wonderful contents.

Fuck it. They shouldn’t of left it on your cart. You made quick work of opening the box and grabbing the most appetizing pastry there and shoving it down your throat. The flavors melted in your mouth, earning a moan of appreciation from you.

Cauldron bless whoever was dumb enough to leave this box near you.

———————————————

Azriel sat in his room at the house of wind, in the floor. His hands clutched at his face as he mentally cursed himself for tripping.

He had tripped. The first time in his entire 500 years of being alive, he stumbled trying to get away from your cart. He could feel his face burning red as he rushed out of the library, Clotho with a knowing smirk as she observed him. Clotho had been granting him permission to enter the library on the excuse of wanting to get into reading more. And they both knew it was complete bullshit. But Clotho didn’t care, knowing he stayed away from all the other priestesses- except you.

He had been watching you for a while now, realizing you had seemed to be getting worse. You had been coming in later and later every morning, forgetting meals every now and then. It was nerve wracking to him, he just wanted you better. And it seemed the library wasn’t helping you. He’d give it some time before he went to Rhys and asked if there was something else they could do for you. He just wanted you to be alright. He didn’t care if you would never fall in love as he did, as long as you were happy he could live peacefully.

Azriel hoped you would enjoy the pastries he had picked out for you. He hadn’t known what you would like best, so in a panic, he asked the manager to shove in a variety of their most popular pastries.

Azriel still couldn’t get over the fact he had tripped. His mind has been going haywire ever since he rescued you. All he could think was you, you, you and, you! We’re you alright? Did you get up this morning? Did you eat? At this point it became clear he couldn’t even focus on the simplest of tasks like staying hidden.

You had him in a chokehold. He was wrapped effortlessly around your finger, and you didn’t even know it.

I hope you enjoyed! Lmk if you want part two. 💕

#Azriel X reader #azriel x reader angst #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel acotar #Imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #acotar 5 #acosf #acotar #x reader

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therainscene · 5 months

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I think I might have figured out what the Mind Flayer really is.

This theory has been percolating in my brain for a while now; it hasn't really finished baking yet but I wanted to get the gist of it down before The First Shadow debuts.

Let’s begin at the Hawkins National Lab, 6th November 1983. For the second time in her young life, El faces terrifying and deeply traumatic circumstances which cause her powers to lash out and rip a gash in the fabric of reality.

Meanwhile, across town, Will is doing what every queer 12 year-old has done and finds an excuse to spend an extra moment alone with his crush.

His little gay heart is as aflutter as the garage lights.

(Strange, that. The lights, I mean -- considering that he's on the other side of town from the lab. Do you suppose the Demogorgon trekked all the way to Mike's house and quietly followed him home again?)

Will heads home, lost in thought as he cycles past the lab. Is he thinking about how sweet his new X-Men #134 is gonna be? Or is he thinking about something even sweeter? The lights flutter again.

And something in front of him notices.

Will has always been noticeable: his clothes, his mannerisms, his interests -- they've always attracted the attentions of bullies. Now something new -- or maybe something that was always there and is only now making itself known -- has attracted the attentions of a monster.

He runs home, he calls for help, but he's alone, there's no escape. He races to the shed and loads a gun like his father taught him -- but it's not in his nature to be violent. He freezes, petrified.

The lights surge as his terror wrestles control of his powers and uses them to puncture an escape route in the fabric of reality.

Why were we so quick to believe that the Demogorgon -- a minion of the guy whose whole thing is his inability to open gates -- was able to open its own temporary portals in S1 and then never again?

Will could plausibly have been responsible for every temporary portal in S1: he’s at the Byers house when the Demogorgon pushes through its walls; he's on the run to Castle Byers when Nancy stumbles across that portal in the woods; and he's plugged in to one of Vecna's vines during the finale -- something we see Vecna plug himself into when he remotely opens gates in S4.

There’s one exception though.

Barb likely slipped through a gate in Steve's pool, but how could Will have opened that one when he was in his bedroom at the time, talking to his mother through the lights?

Let me ask you this: isn't it interesting that of all the injuries Barb could have obtained in her passage to the Upside Down, she got a nosebleed?

I think powers are more common than we’ve been led to believe, and gates are a last-ditch self-defense mechanism for anyone with powers.

This is why the four curse victims’ deaths opened a gate: Vecna pushed them to their breaking point to artificially trigger the self-defense response. Those headaches and nosebleeds weren't caused by Vecna directly, but by their own powers acting up as they inched towards oblivion.

[Shoutout to @givehimthemedicine's underrated powers and blood theory for the idea of Vecna's Curse being the overcharging of his victims' own powers.]

It was already pretty obvious that Vecna's Curse is a metaphor for suicide, and this theory reinforces it: every kid who gets targeted by the horrors of Hawkins for being "different" tries to find some way to escape.

Willel's misfortune is that their powers are considerably more easily manifested than the average person's. Byler tells the story of visible vs invisible queerness, but that's just a reflection of the larger theme at play in the show: the visible and invisible ways kids are othered and abused.

Max's trauma was a quiet thing that came from within and festered until it was almost too late to save her... but Willel's trauma manifests as a giant monster that openly hunts them down.

And I'm being literal when I say the Mind Flayer is a manifestation of their trauma.

We know that Vecna fashioned the Mind Flayer from a cloud of black particles he found in the Upside Down, but where did that cloud come from? The Upside Down is a mysterious enough place that it's easy to assume the Shadow is native to that realm... but what if it isn't?

The Mind Flayer is heavily associated with repression -- Will gradually lost his memories while he was possessed, and El lost her powers when the sliver of Flesh Flayer wormed its way into her leg.

But Will has mysteriously been without powers ever since leaving the Upside Down, and we've seen El lose memories too: her memories of surviving the lab massacre, in which she didn't simply escape by opening up a gate, but by disintegrating her attacker into black particles.

The Mind Flayer doesn't cause repression -- it is repression.

There must have been countless generations worth of traumatized children who took the extra step El did and sent their abusers -- or at least their memories of abuse -- into that hidden realm beyond the gate.

(There's also the possibility that Mr. Time-is-Just-a-Social-Construct is stuck in a time loop of some sort -- maybe the massacre has repeated hundreds of times, and Dimension X is a timeless graveyard of El's attempts to repress her trauma. This would explain why Henry seems to have both disintegrated and survived: we were watching at least two different iterations of the massacre all along.)

Whichever way you slice it, it's a perfect fit: the tool Vecna uses to perpetuate the cycle of abuse isn't some bizarro alien from an alternate dimension, but a direct consequence of the cycle itself.

The Mind Flayer tells us that escape alone doesn't work as a long-term solution: it might help you survive the initial abuse, but if you don't address the effect it had on you...

...it will come back to wreck havok.

[Edit: Click here for post-TFS thoughts on this theory]

#stranger things #will has powers #willel #byler #will byers #el hopper #max mayfield #barb holland #henry creel #mind flayer #my analysis

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peanutpinet · 3 months

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haii! I saw that you request is open. i want to request with mafia!jaehyun x wife!reader. Jaehyun and your brother (johnny) are known have died, killed by their rivals. unknowingly you're having a child years later, and when the other group saw, they wanted to kill both of you.

suprisingly, you were saved by nct and you mad at them being shadows and hide themselves from you for years especially jaehyun and johnny. so, (especially) jaehyun and the others regaining your trust back and want to be a dad in your child live, you're slowly trust him and others again (maybe there's an incident or something that jaehyun almost being killed cause he saved you and/or child(?)). thank you

Back For You - Mafia! Jaehyun x Wife! Fem Reader (ft Older Brother Johnny)

HAPPY 2024 EVERYONE!! I HOPE THAT EVERYONE HAD A GREAT JANUARY (jokes on me for saying happy new year but posting this at the end of January) I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING MIA BUT I was away for a 2-week holiday which took a lot out of me. Don't worry, I've tried to write a bit and while this isn't my best writing since I'm still trying things, I hope that the anon who requested this and those who are reading will still enjoy it!! Manifesting a better year for everyone!!

A/N: hi anon, thank you for requesting, it means a lot that you like my writing :(( coincidentally, I have been reading a few nct fics about the reader having the neos’ child but the neo never knew that they had a child. I do want to point out that this specific mafia story won’t be included in the mini mafia universe that I’ve made as the timeline doesn’t really match but I will make another Jaehyun mafia fic in the same mafia universe that I’ve created!

Also, to the anon who requested the Johnny & TY mafia, Jisung mafia, thank you guys for being patient but I am going through my requests (actually shocked I have several of requests because I didn't think my writing would be enjoyable without a smut sometimes). Also, also! TY's girl is making an appearance in the next two mafia fics and her name is Kim Eunji because I used this name for my translated version of TY's first mafia fic over on my Wattpad. Okay, onto the story!

Warnings: suggestive, angst, mentions of pregnancy and child birth, gunshots, blood, lil fluff

It took 5 years of trying to heal yourself from your loss. 5 years to finally be able to accept that it was now just you and your son, Yuno together. 5 years since your husband and brother, Jaehyun and Johnny respectively were reported to have died in a car accident. But those 5 years of acceptance and peace were soon ripped in a matter of seconds.

You were just picking up your son from daycare who was one of the last kids there because you had to finish your shift but when you had just arrived, you saw several black SUVs that came from around the corner.

At first you didn’t think much about it because you have never been associated with anything illegal nor have you done anything wrong in your life.

But right when you picked up your son and headed out, there were several men who came out of the SUVs and stopped in front of you and your son.

Instinctively, you held your son tighter to you as one of the men came towards you, mentioning a name that you have not heard in the past 5 years of your life.

“Are you Jung (Y/N), wife of Jung Jaehyun and younger sister of Johnny Suh?” one of the men questioned which made you wrap your arms around your son, your motherly instinct moved him behind you

“And who are you to ask?” you hissed but the man just chuckled until you noticed the other men surrounding you and your son

“We’d just like to ask you several questions about your husband and older brother. So if you would come with us and have a little chat…” the man mentioned, looking at your son. “We wouldn’t want the kid to see something that he wouldn’t want to see, now would we?”

“Mommy…” your son called out to you but you wouldn’t let him come out from behind you

“I don’t know how you know my name, my deceased brother and husband’s name but as far as I know, none of us have any association with people like you. And plus, like I’ve mentioned, my brother and husband are both dead. If there were any debts that they may have, their lawyer would’ve said something to me years ago” you tried your best to sound brave but in reality you feared what may happen to you and your son; especially when some of the men came closer

“You should come while we’re being civil” the man scoffed as he commanded the other men to take out some of their weapons as you shielded your son from the scene he might witness

But somehow, as if your husband has been protecting you even before your marriage, there were other men who came and took down all the men that were surrounding you before they could even do anything to you or your son.

Amongst the men who helped you, there was one with white/silver hair and black tint underneath. He walked past everyone and stood in front of you, his eyes was big but his eyebrows made him have a more strict look.

What he did next was what you didn’t expect. The man kneeled to your son’s level and even called him by his name. “Hey, you must be scared, aren’t you? I’m Taeyong. You can call me uncle Tae. I know your father very well. You have his dimples and eyes but have your mom’s smile. You’re a brave boy like your dad”

“You know Jaehyun?” You asked as Taeyong looked at you, his eyes turned soft and even looked like he was sorry when he stood back up to face you

“I think he and Johnny should be the one to tell you everything. I have no right to get in between family business” Taeyong mentioned while you stood in shock

“W-what do you mean that he and Johnny…” you stuttered but Taeyong continued before you got to finish your sentence. “They’re alive. Both of them. We found them 5 years ago, barely breathing and they were both in a coma for almost a whole year but enough of that, how about I…”

“How do I know that you’re not using them to get to me or something? For all I know you could be working with those people from before or something” you questioned, making Taeyong sigh until you heard the very voices that you thought you would never hear ever again

“(Y/N)!!!” You heard Jaehyun shout and turning around, you saw Jaehyun, your husband and Johnny, your older brother; both of whom you thought were dead were now in front of you

“H-hey, hey” Jaehyun came and held you in his arms, pulling you to his chest as you sobbed whereas Johnny came to hug his nephew

“Sssh, I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m alive. We’re alive” Jaehyun tried to calm you down but you broke down even more and hit his chest, pushing him away as your tears covered your vision

“How could you! Both of you!!” You screamed at both men who lied to you for the past 5 years. Both men whom you cherished close to you and mourned hard when you heard about their car crash and no bodies were found 5 years ago

“I cried for both of you. I mourned you both. I had to go through pregnancy and birth on my own. I did everything alone for the past 5 years. Y-you both don’t get to just waltz back in as if nothing happened” you cried, even falling to the ground as your son rush to your side, hugging you

“Sweetheart. Little flower” both Jaehyun and Johnny said at the same time, both coming closer but your son stood in front of you

“H-hey lil peach…” Jaehyun uttered, about to kneel down to your son’s height but just like Jaehyun, your son was overly protective of you ever since he was just 2 years old

“Go away” your son shouted as you tried to calm him but he kept on going. “Don’t make my mom cry”

“Lil peach, I’m not gonna…” Jaehyun tried to reach out to his own son but he was rejected. “No!!”

“You made my mom cry! I don’t want mommy to cry anymore!” Your son shouted but you quickly hugged him, calming him down. “Hey, hey. Jeong Yuno, what did mommy teach you?” you mentioned your son’s name, making Jaehyun tear up a bit because you named your son after his name

“Don’t shout at anyone. Don’t shout to your elders, okay? Especially your dad and uncle” you stroke your son’s head who looks at you with the same worried eyes as Jaehyun’s

“I don’t want you to cry anymore mommy. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t mommy sad. I want mommy happy” your son mentioned, making both Jaehyun and Johnny’s hearts clench

“Mommy’s not sad. Don’t worry, mommy��s okay” you cooed your son, hugging him close to you as you lift him up

“(Y/n)…” Jaehyun uttered, trying to reach for both you and your son

“Don’t…I, I can’t deal with this. I want to go home” you mentioned, your voice was clearly tired

“It’s not safe for you to go back home” Jaehyun mentioned. “Then where am I supposed to go Jaehyun?!” You argued back, Jaehyun clenching his fists

“We’ll take you back somewhere safe. Somewhere no one can find nor touch either of you. Somewhere I should’ve brought you to a long time ago” Jaehyun mentioned, directing to you one of the cars

“Little flower…” Johnny breathed but you walked past him, carrying your son tightly and protectively in your arms

“Know that I’m only going with you guys for my son’s safety and not because I’ve forgiven either of you just yet” you uttered, going into the car as Taeyong closed it before it went off

“Get some rest. Both of you. You can talk to her tomorrow” Taeyong mentioned, heading to his own car

“Hyung!” Jaehyun called out to Taeyong

“I told you that you both that you should’ve gone back to her back then. I kept my side of the promise and took care of her when you both went on that mission. But you broke your side of the promise to go back to her” Taeyong stated, looking at his two members

“I understand during the first year because you both were brutally injured from the accident but afterwards?” Taeyong reminded. “I don’t mean to butt into your family business but if either of you forgot, your wife and sister was pregnant and about to give birth when you guys were already awake from your coma. Regardless of your reasoning, both of you should’ve gone back to her. Losing two of your loved ones during pregnancy and birth is not easy and the fact that she went through all of that alone makes me respect her so much”

“I suggest you both discuss on your own. I can only do so much by ensuring her safety. You both already lost the past 5 years with her. Don’t lose her as well” Taeyong advised

Throughout the ride back to NCT’s penthouse, both Jaehyun and Johnny discussed how they were going to try and approach you. Johnny saying that he wants to approach you first because he is your only related family member left and he wants to make sure that you know he will always take care of you somehow.

But Jaehyun wanted the three of you to just sit down and talk so none of you misunderstood one another. Both Jaehyun and Johnny kept debating until they reached the room that Taeyong provided for you and your son.

Softly, Jaehyun knocked on the door, worried that he might accidentally wake you and your son but luckily you were still awake and answered the door.

Upon opening the door and seeing Jaehyun and Johnny, your first instinct was to shut it close but knowing both your husband and brother, you might as well talk it out with them and get it over with.

“What do you guys want?” you questioned, your voice coming out strong and rough, your eyes and nose were still red from all the crying

“Can we talk? The three of us. We owe you a full explanation about what happened and everything” Johnny mentioned, hoping that you’d give him and Jaehyun a chance to explain for themselves

“Not in here. I just put Yuno to sleep. He wouldn’t sleep until I fall asleep” you replied and hearing your reply, Jaehyun wanted to hug you and let you know that he never meant to leave you alone but he restrained himself until you finally accepted his apology and allowed him to be back in both you and your son’s life

“Let’s go next door then, it’s my room” Johnny suggested and you nodded in agreement

You came to find out that your room was situated between Johnny and Jaehyun’s room with Johnny being right next door and Jaehyun across your room.

Inside Johnny’s penthouse, you were welcomed with the modern but minimalistic interior with several additions of rare collectables which you knew your brother had been very fond of since young. You took in his entire place until you saw several framed pictures of him, Jaehyun, some of their other friends and even with you framed in the center amongst the other pictures.

“Do you still like your tea with 90% milk and sugar?” Johnny asked, already at the pantry, brewing up your favourite tea for you

“Yea, I can’t have too much caffeine during the night anyways” you replied, accepting the tea from your brother

“So, you guys going to explain yourselves on leaving me for the past 5 years?” you questioned, looking down at your husband and brother who sat across you

To say you were speechless was definitely an understatement because as much as you tried to understand their point of views, you became angrier than before. Ever since your brother was in high school, he had already been in the mafia and as for your husband, Jaehyun officially became apart of it when he almost graduated high school.

Not only were they able to keep this secret life from you for the past 10+ years, but the fact they also hide themselves for the past 5 years all because they were scared to face you when they were still injured just didn’t make sense to you.

“What the fuck do you mean that you were scared to face me?!” you shouted, standing up from the sofa, angry at both your brother and husband

“Flower, we wanted to back to you, I swear. We were just caught up with other things…” Johnny tried to reason. “We were both badly injured and barely able to process anything…”

“But you got back up. You could’ve come to me. Your friends could’ve said something. I want to understand you but I can’t. Do you know how hard it was when I found out I was pregnant but before I could tell either of you, I saw your car crash on the news. I almost lost my baby. I almost lost my son that day too if it weren’t for your mom coming over to visit me early in the morning” you rambled on, making both Johnny and Jaehyun even more guilty

“Does your mom even know, Jaehyun?” you asked but received no answer from him

“I’m leaving” you let out which made both Johnny and Jaehyun immediately stood up, blocking your way

“I mean I’m leaving this room and going back to see my son. I can’t be in the same room with either of you right now” I pointed out, about to head to the door but a hand grabbed my wrist and from the touch, I knew that it was Jaehyun

“(y/n)…dimple…” Jaehyun let out that nickname he used to call me those years ago

The nickname that he gave me because he would always mention how he consider me as his dimple because his dimple is a part of him and he would always consider me as a part of him. I believed it, until he disappeared and reappeared back.

“Don’t call me that, Jeong” I hissed back, tears were threatening to spill again

“I swear I wanted to come back to you. Both me and Johnny. Me especially. I know what we did was horrible towards you and I’m not asking you to forgive and accept us back immediately but I just hope…” Jaehyun sighed. “I hope that you would at least let me into Yuno’s life. Let me be the father and husband I should’ve been all those years that I was gone”

Immediately, you ripped your arm away from Jaehyun and looked at him with anger and frustration. “You both got badly injured during and needed a year to fully recover fine. Your friends/members not coming to tell me anything about you because it’s classified, fined. But not telling your own mother and letting her, me and our son to believe that you were dead is beyond me. I don’t need words, Jeong. Neither does Yuno. All we wanted was for you to be there but you weren’t. You’re basically 5 years too late”

“I know” Jaehyun let out a shaky breath. “I, we, didn’t mean to lie to you and not come back sooner. We wanted to tell you but we were just waiting for the right time because we wanted to protect you long enough until we weren’t heavily involved anymore”

“Protect? Protecting me from those who were against you or protecting yourself from what might happen if you had told me before you disappeared?” you sighed

“You know what hurts more? Not when I lost both of you and almost lost Yuno that day. But the fact that I can’t hate either of you. I want to hate you both but I can’t. Because I know what it feels like growing up without a parent figure. I tried so hard to be that parent figure for Yuno but I could never replace his dad” you said, making Jaehyun more hopeful

“Don’t think that I’ve forgiven either one of you just yet. But I’m not as cruel as you to not see Yuno or try to be the father and uncle he should’ve had since he was born” you opened the door, ready to go back to your son. “I’m saying that you both can try your best to come back to our lives, but I can’t guarantee that either one of us would accept you. You might be the father Jaehyun but I was the one that took care of him the past 5 years and from what you’ve seen, our son doesn’t even consider you his dad even when I’ve told him and showed him pictures of you. Good night, Jaehyun, Johnny”

You left both men to the quiet and chill room with the loud noise of their own thoughts and guilt.

Despite leaving both Jaehyun and Johnny on a bad note, the two accepted your anger and instead, hearing you let out your own emotion fueled them to try their best to do whatever it took to get both you and Yuno’s apology.

The next morning, right when you were about to leave and bring Yuno to daycare, both Jaehyun and Johnny were right in front of your door as you came out with your son.

“Geezus, can you guys not this early in the morning?!” you sighed as your son gripped your hand tighter

“Sorry. We didn’t want to disturb your morning so we waited out here. But we got some breakfast sandwiches for both of you and caramel latte for you” Jaehyun mentioned, handing you the bag which you accepted

“Thanks. If there isn’t anything else, I really need to go and take Yuno to daycare and I also need to go to work” you mentioned, about to walk past both men but they stopped you before you could take another step

“What is it this time?” you asked, raising your eyebrow

“Sorry lil sis, I don’t think you should be going to work anymore” Johnny said, making you scoff. “You might be my older brother but you don’t have the rights to tell me what I can or cannot do”

“Johnny’s right (y/n). Those men the other day know who you are. It would only take time before other people would find you or Yuno and neither me nor Johnny wants that to happen again” Jaehyun replied, looking at you with those damn worried eyes

“If I don’t work then how am I supposed to afford a living?” you argued, challenging both Johnny and Jaehyun

“We’re both here now. We’ll fund everything. Especially me. I’m going to fun for both you and Yuno. I want to be the father that Yuno deserves to have. You can push me or Johnny away as much as you want but we will still try to squeeze ourselves back into both of your lives” Jaehyun mentioned and hearing his tone, you know how stubborn Jaehyun is going to be

Sighing, you agreed to not go to work and let your boss know that you have to quit so suddenly because of a family issue.

“Fine. I won’t go to work. But I’m not going to let my…”

“Our son” Jaehyun mentioned, making you roll your eyes. “Our son not go to school” you finished your sentence while Jaehyun kneeled down to Yuno’s height

“Of course not. I’ll take him to school and wait until his school ends” Jaehyun mentioned, smiling at Yuno, his dimples showing

But when Jaehyun took his hand out, trying to convince Yuno to come with him, Yuno shook his head. “No. I want to go with mommy”

“Lil peach…your mommy and uncle need to have a chat and I want to get to know you more” Jaehyun tried to convince him but Yuno stood his ground, gripping onto your leg

“Hey, hey lil bud” you mumbled, kneeling to your son’s height, holding his small hands in yours. “What did mommy tell you before?”

“Give daddy a chance” both you and Yuno said at the same time, making Jaehyun want to tear up knowing that despite what he did, you still taught your son to give him a chance

“That’s right lil bud. What happened to mommy shouldn’t be the reason for you to not give your daddy a chance. Also, it’s a good way to know if he’s actually making an effort. Plus, mommy needs to talk to uncle Johnny, okay? When you come back, mommy is going to make your favourite food, braised beef with toppokki” you mentioned, Jaehyun almost choked on his saliva hearing his son’s favourite food being the same as his

“Okay mommy” Yuno mumbled, looking over at Jaehyun who still offered his hand and slowly grabbed it

“I promise that I’ll keep him safe” Jaehyun mentioned, standing back up, softly holding his son’s hand

“On scratch on his body or any drop of blood, I will end you, Jeong” you threatened, kissing your son’s cheek as he kissed yours before letting Jaehyun take your son to daycare

Jaehyun’s POV

On the way down to my car, Yuno didn’t say a word and even when we were in the elevator, out of (y/n) and Johnny’s sight, Yuno let go of my hand which confused me.

“Lil peach…” I let out but Yuno’s reply shocked me. “Yuno. That’s my name. Not lil peach. Only mommy gets to call me other names”

“Okay, Yuno. Can you tell me why you let go of my hand?” I asked as the elevator opened to the car park and I directed him to my car

“Because even though mommy says you’re my daddy, you’re not” Yuno mentioned, getting into the car without my help

After closing the door to Yuno’s side, I went into mine and saw that he already put his seatbelt on his own. “Damn, this kid is too smart for a 5-year-old,” I thought to myself as I drove off

“Why would you say that I’m not your daddy?” I asked

“Because you hurt mommy. You made mommy cry” Yuno mentioned. “You might be my daddy but if you hurt mommy, you’re not my daddy. Wait until I grow up and I will be the only guy that mommy needs”

“You should know that without me, you wouldn’t exist. You can try all you want but I will win your mom back and then let’s see who the guy will come out on top” I scoffed, disbelieved at my own son’s words to me

“You can try but you’re no one to mommy. You’re not related by blood unlike me. You don’t know mommy like I do. You don’t know how hard mommy tries to be strong to take care of me. You don’t know that mommy likes to talk about you. You don’t know that mommy talks nice things about you but to me, you still hurt mommy. Especially when you came back” Yuno mentioned, making me grip the steering wheel harder

“H-Has your mommy been seeing someone else? Another guy?” I asked, being selfish and hoping that (y/n) hadn’t seen anyone else

“No. Though lots of guys have been trying to talk to her but when I ask mommy, she always mentions you” Yuno admitted, making me sigh with relief

“I won’t leave you both again. Especially your mom. I love her so much that I want to come back and take care of her. And you” I mentioned, parking by the daycare, looking at Yuno

“Why are you looking at me?” Yuno asked

“Because I need your help” I mentioned

Your apartment - Your POV

After Jaehyun left with Yuno, Johnny wanted to immediately talk but I told him that I wanted to grab several things from my previous apartment. Johnny agreed and he drove us to my old apartment.

“What actually happened since you found out that we were involved in an accident?” Johnny asked, his voice sounded nervous as we walked into my apartment

“Lots of things happened, John. I almost lost Yuno. I had to sell our old house to have enough money to live for a year or so since both of your accounts sacred and I only had the joint account with Jaehyun but even that, somehow, the account was frozen so after Yuno turned 1, I had to look for a job since I didn’t want to burden Jaehyun’s parents who were both already at old age” I explained, recalling one of the most traumatic moments in my life

“I’m sorry sis. We both are, really” Johnny let out

“I was lucky Jaehyun’s parents were still around. We were all sad at what happened to both of you. Did Jaehyun ever go back to his parents?” I asked but Johnny shook his head

“He was scared. We both were. When Taeyong and the others couldn’t find us, they froze our accounts, everything linked to us. Of course not your or his parents’ personal accounts. That’s how your joint account was frozen” Johnny explained

“What could have possibly scared the two of you more than me and Jaehyun’s parents getting angry at both of you?” I questioned, about to blow a fuse at my confusing brother for his reasoning but Johnny sushed me

“What is it now, John…”I let out but we both hear unfamiliar voices

“I thought you said that you saw that clueless bitch and somehow alived brother walking past here just now” an unknown man stated, making you worry and looked at Johnny who looked pissed

“(y/n), go into your room” Johnny looked at me, his hand was by his waist and I could see him holding a gun. “Now”

I didn’t need to be told twice and rushed to my room, locking it and as I was about to get under my bed, I heard a loud gunshot followed by several grunts. Not wanting to listen to all the noise outside, I decided to call the only other person that could manage to calm me down.

“Hello? (Y/N)” Jaehyun’s voice was a bit taken aback that I called him

“Jae…” I let out

“Where are you? Where’s Johnny? What happened?” Jaehyun asked, his voice was worried

“I’m at my old apartment. Johnny…” I was about to reply but heard another gunshot. “Johnny’s outside, there are some people that I don’t know of”

“Dimple…I’m sorry that you have to go through this two days in a row but one things for sure, we won’t let you be alone anymore. Talk to me dimple, tell me how you’re feeling” Jaehyun replied

“How are you so calm? What if something happens to Johnny and…I can’t lose either one of you again” you replied back

“It’s part of our job, dimple and you’re not going to lose either one of us again. What happened 5 years ago is a one time only. It won’t happen again. Me and Johnny will make sure of it” Jaehyun ensured me

“How’s Yuno? Did he cause any problems for you?” I asked, trying to get my mind off what was happening outside

“No problems at all. He just told me some things, that’s all. You really taught him well, didn’t you. He even stood up against his own father for his mom” Jaehyun joked

“That’s because he didn’t know you like I did” I replied

“And how did you know me, hmm?” Jaehyun teased, making me roll my eyes

Luckily, before I have to reply him, I heard Johnny called out to me. “(y/n)? Are you alright in there?”

“Johnny’s calling. I’ll um talk to you later then Jae. Don’t forget about Yuno” I told him but heard giggling. “Don’t worry about him. Go, Johnny’s going to get worried”

Turning off the call, I opened the door and saw Johnny who looked a bit tired but relieved. Immediately, I hugged him as he hugged back. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me. You’re okay, right?”

“I’m okay. W-what happened out there?” I asked but Johnny shook his head

“Nothing you should worry about. Come on. I’ll help you grab the things you need and we can head back” Johnny mentioned

It didn’t take long to take almost all the things because apparently, Johnny had called some of his friends to come and help us bring some of mine and Yuno’s things back to the penthouse.

Arriving back at the penthouse, Johnny and his friends helped me unpack some of my things and during the tidying up, we heard a ring to the door and Johnny opened it to let Jaehyun and Yuno in. Yuno immediately went up to me and I hugged him.

“Did you have a good day today?” I asked as Yuno nodded and took something out of his backpack, which was a drawing

“My teacher told us to draw something that makes us happy and I draw you being happy even if it’s with daddy and uncle” Yuno mentioned and I looked at the drawing he did

It was a simple kids drawing but knowing our history, it meant a lot that Yuno somehow is slowly accepting both Jaehyun and Johnny in his life even though they have been absent in both our lives for the past 5 years.

Sometime during the rest of the day, you and Jaehyun decided to cook together and after dinner, the two of you were doing the dishes together; reminiscing the times you both were in college and cooking in the small tiny dorms whilst Johnny and Yuno were getting to know each other.

“How did you manage to get Yuno to talk to you and actually like you?” you asked, waiting for the water to boil as Jaehyun was leaning on the counter after washing some of the dishes

“I wouldn’t say that he has completely accepted me but we managed to talk. He’s very smart for a 5-year-old” Jaehyun mentioned

“I know. I worry about him. I don’t want him to mature quickly just because of the situation. I want him to have a normal childhood where he’s loved and can have fun for as long as he can” you mentioned, looking over at Yuno who was actually having fun with Johnny

“(Y/N)” Jaehyun called out to me, making me look at him as he grabbed my hands in his; an act that he always did whenever he wanted to talk about something serious

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for both of you the past 5 years. I’m sorry I was a coward for not going back to both of you sooner and I’m sorry that I can’t turn back time to change all that because I know I would do anything to go back and be with the both of you. Especially you. I should’ve been there to take care of you. I should’ve been there to protect you. I should’ve been there to feel the pain you’ve felt because it was nothing compared to mine” Jaehyun mentioned, kissing the top of your hands, another habit that he likes to do to calm your nerves

“Jae…” you breathed out but Jaehyun didn’t let you continue. “Would you allow me and Johnny back? I know that it’s going to take a lot more to make up for the times we’ve lost but I’m willing to do anything for the both of you and…”

Kiss This time, you were the one that didn’t let Jaehyun continue and landed a soft kiss on his cheek, whilst caressing his jawline with one of your hands.

“You know that I hate all the bullshit talk. You might as well show me how sorry you are” you challenged Jaehyun who felt a sense of relief wash over him

But before you and Jaehyun could continue anything, both Johnny and Yuno came up to both of you. “Umm, sorry to disturb but I’m gonna take the lil guy back to my place” Johnny mentioned and Jaehyun was internally screaming thank you because he finally got to have some alone time with you after 5 years

“Do you need anything or any snacks bub?” you asked your son who just shook his head

“I’m okay, mommy. I wanna play some games with uncle Johnny!” Yuno exclaimed, making you giggle

“Alright. But don’t stay up too late. Go grab your pyjamas and backpack. Johnny, I trust you won’t be irresponsible. He has school tomorrow” you mentioned, looking up at your brother who just shrugged whilst your son rushed to his room

“I won’t. But I’m not so sure about you both so that’s why I’m offering to take care of the lil guy while you both sort things out together” Johnny snickered making you smack his arm while your son comes back, already wearing his backpack

“Bye mommy!!” your son greeted you as you went down to his height and he kissed you on your cheeks

“You behave alright. Don’t trouble uncle Johnny” you reminded as he smiled

“I promise don’t worry” your son replied and he went towards Jaehyun who also kneeled to his height. “Don’t make mommy cry!”

“I won’t lil peach. If she cries it’s because of a movie or something else” Jaehyun mentioned, making you smack his head. “You see. Your mom will kill me before I hurt her anyways”

Shaking his head, your son went over back to you and hugged you before going to grab Johnny’s hands, the two bidding both of you and Jaehyun goodbye.

“I should really get you and him to have more father and son outings before he really rebels against you” you mumbled while Jaehyun went behind you, snaking his arms around your waist, letting his head rest on the crook of your neck, giving it light kisses

“It’s alright. You’ve taught him well enough. He’s looking out for his mom anyways” Jaehyun murmured, sucking on your skin, making you moan as you let your head fall back

“I’ll teach him more though. If you’ll let me. I know that you’re worried but I’m more worried if something were to happen to both of you and I wasn’t around” Jaehyun sighed but you turned around, your hands wrapped around his neck

“I trust you Jae. You maybe a dick for leaving us for 5 years but you promise to make up for it. Then do it. Make up for your lost time with us. Treat us how you’re supposed to treat us those psat 5 years” you challenged him again

Without warning, Jaehyun lifted you up, forcing your legs to wrapped around his waist as he turned you around, making your back hit the wall as he captured your lips to his; one of his hand cupped your jaw, deepening the kiss between you.

When the two of you pull away and looked at each other, the two of you giggle just like when you were in college, sneaking around to make out with each other.

“Shall we continue it here or do you want the bed?” Jaehyun asked but you kissed him instead

“Anywhere Jeong. Just proof to me that you’re not leaving us again. I can’t deal with another loss” you cried but Jaehyun quickly shushed you

“You won’t. I’m promise. I came back for both of you and I’m staying for both of you. I’m sorry, dimple. I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed you so fucking much” Jaehyun kissed your temple, each of your eyes, the tip of your nose and then your lips

Each kiss makes you bring him closer to you as you cried on his chest while he cradles your body. “It’s okay. Let it out” Jaehyun knows that he can make up for all the intimate and sexual needs later and what’s important is to make sure is to tend your needs. Whatever you want or need, Jaehyun will do it.

When you finally relaxed in Jaehyun’s arms, you looked at him again with glossy eyes but to Jaehyun, you’re just as adorable as he remembers. Smiling and flashing his dimples, Jaehyun leaned down to give a softer kiss to your lips but you were the one that craved more.

“Someone’s eager. Bed?” Jaehyun asked but all you could do was nod

Immediately, Jaehyun carried you bridal style just as he did the night of your wedding when Jaehyun carried you to your bedroom.

Because of your motherly sense, you woke up earlier than you would have liked and went to the kitchen, slowly removing Jaehyun’s big arms. When you got to kitchen to make breakfast and check your phone, Johnny already texted you that he already took your son to kindergarten and told you to just rest.

Johnny: I took the kid to kindergarten already. We got some breakfast sandwich along the way and I’m gonna wait for him. You have fun with Jae ;)

You smile as you read the text, not realising that Jaehyun was eyeing you from the corner until you turned to see him leaning towards the wall with only his sweatpants, his chest was still bare from last night’s activities.

“Geezus. Can’t you at least knock. You’re going to make me have a heart attack” you exclaimed, making Jaehyun chuckle as he went next to you, kissing the side of your temple before backhugging you as you attempt to make breakfast

“I wouldn’t dream of it” Jaehyun murmured

The two of you just enjoyed each other’s company whilst making breakfast together until Jaehyun asked you a question that he wanted to ask. “Dimple” Jaehyun called out, making you look at him

“Why didn’t you get mad at me? Why didn’t you make me suffer more and longer? I deserved it you know. 5 years is a long time and not to mention for 9 months you were pregnant and had to raise Yuno on your own with my parents for the next few years. You could’ve made me beg for the next 5 years but you didn’t, why?” Jaehyun asked, making you blink a few times before going to stand in front of him, cupping his jaw in your small hands

“I’m disappointed. Not angry. There’s a difference. I’m still disappointed in you and Johnny but I know that there’s no point in staying angry for too long. Yes, I still don’t fully understand the world you guys are in but I know that it’s not easy at all and you both tried your best to take care of me and Yuno however you can. Let me ask you back. When Yuno turned 3 and I received an email from the bank that our joint account was not frozen anymore, it was you, wasn’t it? When I was struggling to pay the bills and suddenly the landlord said it was all cleared for the next year, it was you, right? When Yuno was sick and there was medicine in the mail, it was from you, wsn’t it?” you asked, and Jaehyun held your hand, rubbing it

“I was a coward. I helped you but I didn’t have the strength to face you. You should hate me” Jaehyun mentioned

“But I don’t because I know that when it comes to family, you would never forget us no matter what. I’m still hurt and need reassurance but I want us to be a family again. Only if you promise to be better” you replied and Jaehyun immediately kisses you

Pulling away for a moment, Jaehyun caresses your face and lets his forehead rest on yours as both your noses touch each other. “I fucking love you, you know that? I promise I’ll be better for you and Yuno. I’m officially back for both of you”

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readychilledwine · 2 months

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✨️ACOTAR Thighs✨️

Just Liz giving you her silly thoughts on what her favorite ACOTAR male's thighs look like 💕

Warning - yummy thighs and men ahead.

A/N - The race/skintone of the picked thigh picture does not indicate anything other than the body type I picture when thinking of these characters. Please keep that in mind.

Rhys-

Thanks to @sarawritestories , these are Rhysand's thighs. She thought she was just sending me another attractive professional wrestler, nope. She found Rhysand's thighs. And look! He even has knee pads 💕 extra support and protection for our damaged shadow daddy.

Cassian-

You already know because I posted this already, but he is now Cassian, and those are most definitely Cassian's rideable thighs.

Azriel-

Azriel had slutty thigh muscles, but not as ripped as Cassian or Rhys. He's more trimmed down to maintain speed and stealth mode.

Helion-

These are the thighs of legend that your mother told you to stay away from. 🥴🥴🥴

(Ps - I do not watch rugby that often, I picked on vibes alone. Please don't laugh at me)

Tamlin-

Chest so hard you can Crack a nut on it, and yummy thighs to match

(Plus the birkenstocks scream Tamtam)

Lucien-

I still stand by this. All of it. Replace the blonde with ginger hair, make him a bit more tan, boom, Lucien's body.

@thelov3lybookworm will let me know if I'm close. He is her husband after all 💕

Eris-

Brock O'Hurn doesn't bless us with his legs very often, but when he does, it's delicious. That's how I imagine Eris's thighs are. A yummy surprise wrapped in fine fabrics

Tarquin-

It's only fitting to picture Tarquin with an Olympic swimmer's body

Jurian-

Jurian (when he isn't busy being an eyeball) totally has thickem thighs. It's all the work he does as a general coming through.

Kallias-

Kallias is slept on. He 100% has thighs and a dump truck to match. He'd have to in order to pull Viv. Think baseball guy legs 🫠

#acotar #acotar headcanons #rhysand acotar #cassian acotar #azriel acotar #tamlin acotar #eris acotar #lucien acotar #tarquin acotar #helion acotar #kallias acotar

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thesunloveschips · 6 days

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Eye of the Storm - Chapter 10: An Unfamiliar World

Summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know.

Chapter Summary: Nyra tries to recall her memories from the Cauldron which includes the silhouettes of unfamiliar people. Rhys's sister makes an appearance. Nyra confronts Nesta. Shadows are supportive little darlings.

A/N: I am immensely thankful to @stormhearty. Your friendship is something precious for the real me who is a slightly crazy woman who loves food and fictional men. Thank you for helping me with this chapter. I will continue to fangirl over characters from books and manhwa with you.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

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Nyra's POV

Approximately an hour was left for dinner. I was still sitting by the window in Elain's bedroom. Nesta was sitting on the armchair across me and the occupant of the room was still unconscious.

None of us were talking but I could hear the Cauldron cry as if it was in the same room. Its cries and pleas which I did not want to hear. Not after what it did to my sisters. I closed my eyes and remembered it.

It was cold and lonely in this place. The sensation on my body made it seem like I was floating. And then there was a rip. Pain shot through me. Pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I could not move. Could not open my eyes to see what was going on. It started from my head, from between the eyes. And then it was there, on my chest. I felt like something was being taken from me and that my body was desperately clinging on to it.

It was exhausting. I don’t even know if I was crying. And then pain vanished. I was someplace warm now. I opened my eyes and saw the darkness around me. I was a silhouette of light. Underneath me, a body floated. My body. My weak, mortal body. I was still connected to it. A single glowing string continued to connect me.

And then there were whispers behind me. I turned around and saw other silhouettes. There were many. Each of them were standing at a different distances from me. All of them with glowing eyes. They were different in appearance—different heights, build, sex, skin colour, hair colour, clothing and so much and yet, the only thing that was common was the glowing eyes. I noticed that only one of them did not have glowing eyes. In fact, her eyes were closed. She was the one standing closest to me. A young girl with large bat-like wings.

My entire being felt a pull. I looked around trying to identify the source. It was that string connecting me to my body that floated in the abyss. I looked behind at the figures and found them facing me. Even the young girl with closed eyes. Everyone except the girl lifted their hands and a string flowed out from their palms towards me. With a bundle of strings in my hands, I let them go. The strings floated around me. I waved my hands and with knowledge I did not know I possessed, I manipulated the strings.

They weaved themselves under my guidance into something. A string from my own palm emerged and joined the creation. Whatever that was finally created, came to rest in my arms and I held it. I looked at the body below me and dropped the thing on it.

I had created a body which was merging with the mortal one that floated. The golden body and my own body were merging. I felt more strings from those behind me and I pushed them towards the merging bodies. Something happened. It seemed to help with the merger. And the final product was complete. I looked behind at the figures and they were looking at me, not with glowing eyes but with their own eyes. Approval, happiness, determination, pride—many emotions floated in their eyes. All of them giving me the nod to do something.

I looked at the girl whose eyes were still closed but this time, her lips were parted. And her young voice spoke. “You were poisoned.” I froze.

Another voice from behind her spoke. “You fought well.” It was a woman—tall and larger than women. Easily six feet.

The girl spoke again, her voice pained. “He has been waiting for so long.” And her hand darted forward to push me towards the new body that had been created.

Something stopped me from reaching my body. Some creatures. Many creatures of different shapes and sizes. They were blocking my path. I had to go. The pull was getting stronger. I closed my eyes and the next thing I knew, I was moving—fighting. Like a warrior with practised ease and strength, I was destroying the demons surrounding me.

A familiar presence was nearby. I looked around and felt the gaze of a predator. A familiar presence. I walked closer and identified that to be the one whom I shared a womb in this life. A sibling. What was their name? Was it a girl or a boy? Either way, they shouldn’t be in this place. I raised my hand when I got close enough and pushed them away. Their presence completely vanished and I was left alone with the figures around me.

My fight continued. I won. I walked over to the body waiting for me like a vessel to fill it. A pained cry caught my attention.

“Please.” It begged. And some stupid part of me walked over and helped it. It was wounded and I healed it. “I am forever in your debt.” We talked a lot and then I walked back and felt my essence enter the body.

Once I had entered the body, I looked around. There was no light, no screams, nothing. Just pure darkness. I lifted my hands and checked them. I was glowing. Energy crackled around me. Something glowed from above me. I looked up and saw a bright thread, the only source of light in this darkness. An identical thread sprouted from my chest and ascended to meet it. I watched as the two thread merge into one, as though they were never separated. And then something grabbed my wrists. It coiled around them like a rope and pulled me upwards.

The next thing I knew, I was exiting the Cauldron. People around me were screaming my name. What was it? I could not even see anything clearly. Wisps of darkness and water blurred my vision to the maximum. Something cool and comfortable was all over me. Some energy. It helped me walk and led me to the source of the shining thread. And then they laid me down and I fell a wave of comfort and relief. And I fell asleep.

There was much more to all of this than what I could comprehend right now. That girl and all the figures lined up behind her. This silence in Elain’s bedroom was too loud. I wanted to scream and run and vomit and do so much, all at the same time. The beast within me was my own self. My real self. My power. At present, she was tame; like a cat curled up for a nap. But the cat was starting to get irritated. It was on the verge of transforming into another feline creature of greater size and power should it be provoked for too long. The only thing calming my inner self was the night sky. The stars were a calming sight.

But why did I feel like this? Like a part of me was absent. And the emptiness was seeping into the rest of me. A desperate feeling of yearning was there. For what? For who? Why? To be yearning so much to the point where it was starting to frustrate me—whose absence was affecting me so? I knew it wasn't father. I did not interact with the man who had been so absent from our lives. During our childhood when we were wealthy, it was a physical absence. During our teenage years when we were poor, it was an emotional absence. When Feyre was taken and we mysteriously became rich, the physical and emotional absence became far too much that I did not bother. We talked only when it was required. With him entrusting the keys of the house to me because he was too afraid to face Nesta, who was the healthier twin.

Was it for Feyre, who had been taken from us only to return as a completely different person? I did not even recognise the girl who came back the first time. A girl with life breathed into her only to tell us about the man she fell in love with. She left to save him. And then she returned as a fae. A broken shell of the woman she had become previously. Her subsequent visits showed improvement but I did not recognise her even then. She was no longer the woman who was our sister. She was free and powerful and independent and that was good for her but my sister had died and a new woman had taken her place. Feyre was no longer our sister in many aspects. And yet she was. But I had this powerful feeling that she would not have come to us after becoming fae if it weren't for the mortal queens and the Book of Breathings.

From what Nesta told me, Elain had begged not to be drowned in the Cauldron and yet she had been the first one to be Made. The woman who went in crying and the woman who returned were two different beings. And now, she was lifeless. The only semblance of who she was could be found in the open curtains. I looked at the sleeping sister. She was pale and thin and the bones of her hand, cheek and neck were too prominent.

Nesta, who had kicked and screamed, before being thrown into the Cauldron. How did she emerge? She hadn’t told me anything. But the woman who was sitting in front of me was withdrawn. She was no longer the panther who waited in the dark before striking. She was a cat who had retired to sleep. Nesta’s claws were no longer sharp.

Then for whom was I feeling so much? This burning sensation. I think I would've cried if I hadn't averted my eyes to look at the sea. Even in the darkness, I could identify where it was after having looked at for so long during the day. So much love, it made me feel like I was bundled up in a velvety blanket. But the other emotions made me feel like the blanket would be ripped away from my body and I would have to wake up to a horrible world.

Nesta's movement began to distract me from my own inner turmoil. She had stood up, walked towards the door, opened it and peeped outside to see if anyone was there and then closed it again. She came back but did not sit down. "We ought to get ready for dinner."

"I suppose we should." I stood up and then looked at Elain. We did not speak because we did not know what to speak of. We walked over to the door connecting Elain's room with Nesta's and entered and closed the door behind us.

"Your room is ahead." Nesta pointed towards the door straight ahead.

"What do you feel about all of this?" I turned to the window. I knew that Nesta required space before she could answer difficult questions. Not looking at her meant that she would feel less pressurised and that she would have more clarity of thought.

Nesta looked outside the window. "We are in an unfamiliar world. I do not mind it much. I do not have a marriage waiting for me. But…"

"You worry for father?" I wanted to know what she felt for him. She did not despise him as much as she tried to pretend. And she would always leave the room whenever I tried to confront her about it, knowing my sick body couldn't follow her. But now I could. And it seemed like she was realising that bit too.

Nesta scoffed. "The man could barely pick himself up even when Feyre went out to hunt. You were sick. We needed the money for your medicines."

"What about you and Elain? What were the two of you doing?" This was it. This was everything. Our lives had revolved around this for so long. Feyre had continuously begged me not to confront Nesta or Elain about this and I truly found her foolish for that. Her kindness had been extended to undeserving people.

"We could never send Elain out. She…"

"Then what about you?" I asked softly. I did not have the patience to shout at her and she was no longer poised to strike. So would she answer me? "Feyre was just a child."

"I know you would've gone out." Nesta's voice was a mere whisper. "You would've done anything and everything for all of us. You're like Feyre in that aspect."

"I think I would have." I spoke. The salty scent of her tears spread around the room. "Do not try to deflect, Nesta."

I knew how much Nesta hated that cottage. That bed where mother had birthed us and died. Everything around us was a reminder of the weakness we carried within ourselves.

"And that trait of yours made you push me out of the Cauldron." Nesta looked at me, vision blurred by tears.

"What were you doing, Nesta?" I had to be more firm with her. I was rarely firm with any of them. That had costed us too much. And whenever I was, I snapped too badly.

"I was scared!" Nesta's voice rose.

"Scared of the world and in that house, only our father knew how to navigate through it." I added and hummed. "He disappointed you, didn't he? When he did not go out to find work and instead remained… hopelessly hopeful for a miracle." I moved towards the door Nesta had pointed at, the one that would lead to me bedroom and stood by the door. The door knob was a beautiful piece of wood, simple and shaped. "Our mother's lessons never included any survival skills but our father's travels did."

I remembered how Feyre had snuck into our father's office to see the maps and the trinkets he brought back from his travels. How father sat her on his lap and told her stories of the world outside. Nesta was staunchly against that. I simply smiled and encouraged Feyre to listen to father's stories. He would tell her about the different people, cultures, cuisines and adventures he had. And eventually those stories shaped Feyre into becoming the one to step outside their home to be the breadwinner.

"And even now, you love him."

"That's ridiculous." Nesta sneered.

"Why?"

"Because I am my mother's daughter."

"All of us are."

"I am more of her than any of you ever was."

"And what are we?"

"Not hers." Nesta did not say anything more but I understood that this was a partition that would remain in her mind. That Nesta would forever see herself as someone apart from her sisters.

"Is that why you never stepped out? Because our mother would've deemed it beneath her to toil for the family? And you're her daughter?" The words escaped me before I could filter them. I saw Nesta flinch. I knew I had struck well when she reacted and I did not like this. I did not like this conversation. Did not like that she was like this. Nesta would've done anything and everything for Elain and I but for Feyre, what was it?

I remembered all the times when we were young and Feyre used to look up to us. I spun my history lessons into stories and told my own version of it to put the younger ones to sleep while Nesta silently watched even though she pretended to be uninterested. Stories of kings and queens, princes and princesses and adventurers and treasure hoarders. Mythologies were the easiest to tell her.

Feyre learned words easily as she listened to my stories and Nesta's advanced speaking. Maybe that's why mother never realised she did not know how to write and read. And for a long time, I did not. Not until mother had passed. Feyre was friends with Elain in a way she never was with me. Friends who would run around the house together, paint together, garden together. To her I was an older sister, but Elain was a friend more than a sister. But Nesta?

For so long, I'd seen her hopefully look at Nesta for the love and companionship she received from us. She did pick up the fierceness from her but she never knew how to wield it. She learned it all on her own and while I was proud of her for being able to do everything on her own, why was she? Why was she the only one providing for us in a house with two more healthy women? Why was she the only one who could do anything and be useful in a house with two capable women?

I'd fed her false hopes during our childhood that Nesta would come around but I believed them to be true. I'd seen how Feyre, fascinated with the first set of paints, had created something and gift it to Nesta. The first of her creations was a gift to someone who simply took it, said her thanks and retired to her room impassively. Feyre did not know what it was called but she saw Nesta using something to mark the book from where she paused; a bookmark.

I saw Nesta keep that bookmark for years, not even allowing me to touch it. Elain did not know where that bookmark was from. The same went for her drawings. Every little scribble, Nesta kept them guarded in her drawers and never told Feyre. She never scolded Feyre for continuing to draw even when we had limited paper after losing our riches. She simply kept them when Feyre thought they were being burned to feed the fire in the cottage. Nesta was a woman of actions and words so why did she not act?

"We are our own person before we were her daughters." I twisted the doorknob to open the door to my room. The luxurious space greeted me with nothing but unfamiliarity. This was not home. "And you are no longer hers. No longer her daughter. I hope you come to accept it someday." I took a step but my other leg remained where it was. "You must apologise to Feyre for not stepping up. The both of you need to move past that."

I let the door slam behind me and began pacing the room. The fact remained that Nesta and Elain did nothing while father and I were physically incapable of going out. Feyre was the only one who did it. And I did not know why I kept defending both of them in my head. I removed the hair tie and enjoyed the feeling of my hair being free.

What did it mean to be an elder sibling? To step in for the younger ones? If that was the case, Nesta and I had done that many times before mother died. Things changed after that. Even then, I'd seen Nesta actively step in for Elain and in my sickness, for me but Feyre was someone she left behind.

I opened the closet wondering whether I needed to dress for the dinner or whether this gown would be appropriate enough. A silk gown of midnight blue grabbed my attention. I took it from where it hung and admired how it was more soft than the one I currently wore. I closed the door of the wardrobe and took the dress with me to the bathing chamber.

The bathtub sat there like the king in his kingdom. I looked away from it and stared at the mirror in front of me. A woman with incomparable beauty stared back but she was so confused. What good was flawless hair and skin and body when I could no longer identify myself? The woman in the mirror was an unfamiliar face. I was never this beautiful, never this healthy. This was definitely someone else.

This is not home. I wanted to cry at that.

The Cauldron had demanded far too much from me. It had exhausted me before I could leave its clutches. I felt it all over my body and I knew I was close to hyperventilating. I'll never return home. And all that pain. I would have died and yet, here I was.

What was the point of snapping at Nesta? We were here, no longer human. We could never return. And what was there for us in the land of the fae? There is nothing. This is not home. My home with my sisters and father. And when I inadvertently looked in the direction of the bathtub, I saw the Cauldron—black and cruel. I screamed in my head at myself to run away. But my legs, why weren't they moving? The Cauldron seemed to nearing me and I wanted to vanish into the shadows.

And as if my prayers were answered, the shadows emerged from behind like the waves of an ocean. I saw their reflection in the mirror and I crumbled as they embraced me and took me away. It was cold and calm. Only the wind remained for me to hear. I could not process anything but my own cries and tears. Where's my home? I screamed into the shadows and wailed. Tears had blurred my vision but I could see enough to identify that I was someplace dark. I sat down on the cold floor with my knees to my chest.

Home was Nesta's stubbornness, my father's hopes for tomorrow, Elain's smiles and Feyre's wildness. But I was somewhere where I could recognise none of my sisters. My stubborn sister had left everything to the youngest, who in turn lost a part of herself. My happy sister no longer smiled. And what was I?

I don’t know how long I was crying but a hand grabbed my shoulder. It was the only source of warmth. It was a large hand and I looked back. There was no one. I could not see the hand on my shoulder but I could definitely feel it. It was still there. And the shadows retreated and I was on the bathroom floor with a worried Nesta in front of me. She saw me and was saying something. She hugged me and rocked me and I closed my eyes. It was when I could hear my surroundings that I dared to open my eyes. Nesta was crying as she held me.

I moved my hand, took her elbow and tried to remove it away from me. It was a heavy arm and my movement made her release me from my embrace to look at me. Her tears were flowing and she looked so worried. “Are you alright?” She grabbed my cheeks and inspected me. “Did something happen? Talk to me, dear.”

Nesta was never affectionate unless she was worried. And that she definitely was at the moment. “I’m fine.” I whispered.

I escaped her embrace and stood up. I had yet to wash my face and I did just that. I kept on gathering cold water in my hands and splashing it on my face until I felt content. I looked up at the mirror and saw someone who I was starting to recognise. Me. The broken me. I took the towel hanging nearby and dabbed my face with it. I had to change clothes. As I was removing my clothes, I heard her call my name.

"Come to me after you've spoken to Feyre." Nesta knew what I was talking about. I wore the midnight blue gown which exposed my neckline and clung loosely to my figure. My hair was in a bun but with a few stray curls escaping here and there. We stared at each other until I made the move to leave for dinner even though I did not know where it was going to.

I walked ahead. I could hear Nesta behind me but I descended the stairs and heard the noise coming from one of the floors. I followed the voices and halted. I was suddenly reminded of the fact that I will be dining with strangers. Even though I'd met a few of them and dined with the brothers before, that was back in my own home. I saw Feyre and her family and I felt like something was attacking me. Meeting her in-laws was not how I ever expected it to be but when I saw Feyre walking towards me, I realised that I did not recognise her at all. Where the hell was my sister and who was this woman?

****

TAGLIST:

@waytoomanyteenagefeels@impossibelle@esposadomd@starswholistenanddreamsanswered@judig92@bunnyredgirl@sh4nn@a-frog-with-a-laptop@kattzillaa@ronnieglennn@wallacewillow0773638@forgiveliv@justdreamstars@donttellthecats@cat-or-kitten@jojodojo02@wandas-dream@evylynny@weasleyreidstyles@stqrgirlies-blog@why4anne@acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe@macimads@footyandformula @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @eatsleepreadance1 @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @maddybraps @mrstepes @violet-potter

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harry-styles-obsessed · 2 months

Text

We’ll be alright

Requested: yes.

Synopsis: reader is struggling to get out of an abusive relationship, what happens when the two find themselves at a Harry styles concert and are surprisingly interrupted by someone concerned for y/n’s safety.

Trigger warnings: neglect, abuse, bruising, toxic relationships, abusive boyfriend. Please don’t read if you’re sensitive to such topics, take care of yourselves lovelies.

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

“Tom. Not now” you spoke exhaling. The sound of Harry’s voice rang out around the arena— voice loud and clear “yes now.” He spat out before firmly grabbing onto your wrist practically dragging you out, barging past people dancing and past security who really should’ve done something but they barely noticed. Harry’s voice got fainter and fainter— kiwi being blasted, one of your favourite songs, but that soon became the least of your worries your boyfriend of two years dragging you until eventually stopping in an alleyway many cars parked in the alleyway but you didn’t focus on that

“What was that?” Tom growled out and you stared at him confused “what was what?” “You dancing with those pricks! What are you now? A fucking slut? Is that who you’ve turned into? A slut looking for men to fuck huh?” His words were cruel and unnecessary your brows arching “how dare you!” You spoke angrily to him and he shoved you abruptly “how dare I? Y/n how dare you! You’re a slut and a wasteful bitch.” Your eyes searched his face knowing he meant every word but you wished he didn’t. What had changed him? Why had he changed? Why wasn’t he the same loving man you knew before? Kiwi was still playing, the screaming of fans continued echoing around but all you could hear was Tom’s aggressive words “you’re a joke and a slut! No wonder you won’t let me touch you anymore! Too fucking scared because you sleep with too many men!” And before you could even react he had you pinned against the wall, his breath fanning against your face making you squirm “you’re a waste of space y/n. A fucking waste of space. You hear me? You drag me to this stupid fucking concert to stare at yet another man you clearly want to fuck!” “Tom you’re being cra-“ “I am not being crazy y/n! Shut the fuck up!” His voice echoed down the alleyway, angry and abrupt— voice loud enough for members of the public to take notice but they didn’t dare to get involved. “Oh screw you!” You attempted to pull away only for him to abruptly slap you across the face “you’re going to regret that you little b—“

“hey!” A firm voice suddenly spoke toms head moving to look at the stranger who was emerging from the darkness “take a damn walk, man.” The shadowed man spat out Tom glaring right at him. “Or what, man.” He spoke sarcastically “this ain’t none of your business! You take a fucking walk! Let me handle my shit!” Suddenly Tom was gripping onto your hair, but that didn’t last long, the burning on your scalp disappearing— your attention flying to the man who had your boyfriends wrist gripped in his hand, bent slightly at the elbow glaring right at him “want me to call the police or do you want to take a walk?” His voice now that you focused on it was oddly familiar. Scarily familiar… your breath hitched slightly. You watched your boyfriend rip out of the man’s hold before storming off out of the alleyway. You remained tucked in the corner, back pressed tightly against the cold brick wall the darkness surrounding you scared you— but before you could’ve even question anything the familiar stranger could be heard shuffling before a bright torch flashed in your eyes making you squint, realising he had pulled his phone out and was creating light either to bring some form of comfort to you.. or to make sure you didn’t need medical attention. “Are you okay?”

You refused to look at him feeling all shaky and nervous. You knew who it was and to be quite honest you were embarrassed. “I’m so sorry.” Was all your could muster up before finally you looked at him and low and behold it was who you thought it was. Harry fucking styles. The man who had saved your life with his music at the age of 15 and here you were at the age of 20 being saved yet again but in a whole another way. “Don’t apologise.” Was all he said before he glanced around eyes taking a quick look at your outfit which practically screamed ‘love on tour’ and he sighed knowing it was a risk but it was more of a risk leaving you in the hands of a monster,

“Come with me.” He spoke and you were hesitant at first but with his hand on the small of your back he guided you into the backstage area of the arena. You didn’t speak frankly upset and traumatised. Sure it had gotten bad at times but not that bad. Your hands trembled slightly by your side as you were lead into his dressing room “get comfortable. Is there anyone you’d like me to call?” He questioned but you only shook your head. “Well I’m not letting you go back with him.” Was all he said before he exited the room making you panic slightly worried he was going to get someone to take you elsewhere but much to your surprise he returned with a bottle of water, a blanket and a goodie bag which looked to have some sweets and snacks in it. “Here. Stay here as long as you want alright? Just try and.. relax.” You nodded gratefully a silence quickly wrapping around the two of you before you glanced at him “thank you.” Was all you said and he only shook his head, seeming at a loss for words as he sat down opposite you. “What’s your name?” You looked at him “y/n.” He smiled and reached his hand out “nice to meet you y/n. I’m Harry.” You hesitantly shook his hand before retracting your hand looking back down “I’m so sorry you should be celebrating and—“ “don’t apologise. I’m glad I could help.” He spoke and you felt your heart begin to race in your chest feeling his eyes evaluate you.

“You did more than help me.” You murmured honestly and he raised a brow “you saved my life, harry… honest.” He seemed slightly confused and due to your vulnerability and trust in him despite him being a stranger he was your idol. “I’ve been trying to get out of that relationship for two years.” The look on his face was a look of alarm “I think you’ve helped me see that he really is the issue.” Harry nodded clearly fighting the urges to say something about Tom. You and him soon spent a while chatting about everything and anything and eventually you felt like you could head back home now. You of course declined the offer of him driving you home and staying with you until you could file a report against Tom— he had done more than enough already. “Let me call you a taxi at least.” He spoke and you eventually agreed, he called a taxi and paid for all the funds before he walked with you outside his hand ghosting just against your lower back. “You promise not to go back to him?” He spoke and you glanced at him, nodding your head “promise.” You smiled slightly your eyes searching his before you focused on headlights growing closer and closer the ‘taxi’ sign glowing.

“This is my ride I guess…” you murmured before looking at him before quickly without even thinking hugging him tightly, him reciprocating the hug holding onto you securely hand rubbing up and down your back not letting you go until you loosened your grip on him, but you didn’t let go— which he soon noticed hugging you closer again proving exactly what the stories said… he didn’t let go until you let go. “Thank you for everything.” You spoke into his ear quietly before you pulled away not allowing him to ask anything. He opened the door for you before he grabbed your wrist stopping you momentarily “let me know when you get home” was the only thing he said and you nodded smiling slightly. You got into the taxi before the taxi pulled off the curb your stomach fluttering… your idol had saved your life… the drive was fairly quick— yet you were nervous that Tom would be there but he wasn’t. You exhaled thanking the driver before exiting the taxi and making your way towards your apartment sliding the key in and opening the door just as your phone vibrated in your pocket:

H: did you get home safely

A small smile tugged at your lips as you read the message over and over again. It was a simple message but it was so special. Proof that he cared for you.

Y/n: locking the front door now.

H: good. Glad you’re home.

His messages were instant proving that you were on his mind… it made you feel a certain way. You stared at the messages for a while— about fifteen minutes passing. You were grinning at the phone like an idiot yet you were still nervous the psycho would show up… you let out a shaky breath before typing out a quick message

Y/n: harry?

H: y/n

You smiled like an idiot again being able to hear his voice through the phone

Y/n: is that offer still open?

You watched the chat bubble move in the motion for a while— before it abruptly stopped. It made you anxious. Worried. Terrified even. Yet you didn’t spam him with messages you just patiently waited but eventually to your surprise you heard a knock at your front door and you cautiously walked towards it before unlocking the door and pulling it open seeing Harry a small smile playing at his lips as you stared at him in awe… your favourite celebrity literally offering to help you and not hesitating to help.. he was literally perfect.

“I’m flattered, love. But are you going to let me in?” You blushed deeply before moving away from the door letting him in before shutting the door again and locking it. “Why’d you change your mind?” He questioned as you walked with him towards your bedroom, and you paused glancing at him before you smiled “you protected me when no one else did.“ you spoke honestly before you sighed gently “you won’t leave will you?” You asked and he studied you carefully before smiling tattooed arm wrapping around your shoulders “not until you want me gone. No.” He spoke softly as you leaned into his embrace. “I don’t think I ever want you gone.” You murmured honestly a smile tugging on his lips his dimples appearing “the feelings mutual, sweetheart.” You didn’t know what that exactly meant but truly it was multilayered. He didn’t want to leave because he knew Tom could manipulate you again and do much worse and he had to make sure that didn’t happen to you again… he didn’t care what it took.

He was going to keep you afloat in these rough conditions until you learnt how to protect yourself… he was going to be your saviour until you didn’t need him anymore but let’s be honest… you’d always need him no matter what.

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #yn #harry styles x you #harrystyles #x reader #harry x fem reader #harry x yn #harry styles x reader #protective harry #tw triggers #emotional #cute #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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spacebarbarianweird · 1 day

Text

Instinct

Synopsis: Astarion and Tiriel have a very busy night after a battle and have to deal with unexpected consequences.

Tags: smut, breeding, hurt/comfort, some emotional angst It's not exactly a breeding fic since neither Astarion nor Tiriel planned to have a child, but the shameless smut ended with unplanned pregnancy. And now they have to deal with what comes next. Bonus: you will learn why Astarion calls Alethaine 'princess'

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Tiriel won’t let them take her home from her.

She has never had one. Always a stranger, always a wanderer, but Daggerlake became her home. A place that welcomed both her and Astarion, thanking them for saving the townsfolk from a nasty fey pact.

Ever since then, Tiriel belongs – she has had a roof above her head and friends among the townsfolk. And even Astarion can relax because the town has a vast underground part where he is safe in the shadows without having to hide.

And those bandits decided they could take it away from Tiriel?

They should have thought better!

Tiriel steps over a dead body. The fight is over and so is her rage. She single-handedly finished off a dozen of these men and women who didn’t know who their enemy was.

But her body wishes for more – more fight, more blood, more rage.

She looks around trying to see Astarion, but he is nowhere to be seen. It’s night and Astarion rushed to the surface part of the town letting the people of Daggerlake protect their homes and families while he, a full-fledged vampire, was going to show those bandits they had chosen the wrong town to attack.

Suddenly, someone grabs the fistful of her hair forcing her to gasp.

“Astarion?”

She looks at him and innate fear pierces her. They've been together for twenty years, but Tiriel hardly remembers him looking like this.

He looks like a vampire.

Like a vampire on a hunt.

His eyes glow red, and his clothes are soaked in blood. His skin feels feverish and his pupils are dilated.

Tiriel knows it’s him but she also can’t suppress her fear. He is a predator, a hunter, a vampire. Should he be her enemy, she won’t be able to protect herself.

He pulls her closer and kisses her. Tiriel feels the blood of a dozen dead enemies on his lips. His strong hands squeeze her and she knows he will fuck her right here among the dead bodies in the streets of their hometown if she allows it.

Tiriel answers him with the same passion – he wants to be a dangerous vampire? Good to know – because she can be a wild warrior girl who takes what she desires.

But Astarion isn't in the mood for being dominated, and he drags Tiriel back to their home – anyone who would see them right now would think this an assault, not a prelude to lovemaking.

Astarion pushes Tiriel behind the gate. As he closes it, Tiriel gets a sudden idea.

If he wants to be a predator tonight, she should let him play till the end.

She drops her ax on the ground and rushes inside the house – there aren't many places to hide but she is going to let him chase her. And maybe fight a bit.

“And where do you think you are going?” He growls. His voice sounds different and even scary. Nothing more intimidating than a blood-drunk vampire.

“Such a terrifying vampire needs to hunt his prey,” Tiriel laughs.

“Don’t tease me, wild girl!”

She rushes to their bedroom, but before she even manages to think about her next move Astarion jumps on her from the ceiling, pinning her to the floor.

And then he starts ripping her clothes off.

Tiriel roars and pushes Astarion with all her remaining strength. He pulls away but only for a moment before sinking his fangs in her neck. She gasps from the sudden pain but still tries to knock him down.

With every moment her movements become weaker and she finally stops resisting letting Astarion ravish her body.

He pulls away studying her face.

“On your knees.”

Tiriel abides. Her shirt is ripped and shows off her breasts.

“Good girl,” he mutters, getting rid of his own clothes. His cock is painfully hard and Tiriel cannot think about anything but having it inside her.

He approaches her, tugs her by her shirt’s collar, and pushes her to the bed. He tears the rest of her clothes off and bites her again.

Tiriel’s world shrinks to these two things – pleasure and pain.

Astarion doesn’t waste any time and penetrates Tiriel, causing her to yelp.

His thrusts are rough and so are his touches.

Tiriel, drunk with her own rage, keeps fighting back – she scratches his skin, tugs his hair, tries to push him as if he was assaulting her and every one of her movements makes Astarion wilder, rougher, scarier.

She manages to get away from under him, but he immediately presses her chest-down into the bed. Now, he fucks her from behind placing his blood-hot palm on her back.

Slap.

His palm leaves a red print on her butt and Tiriel gasps.

“Astarion-” Tiriel mewls as he leans to wrap his hands around her chest. He pierces her shoulder and keeps moving roughly.

He comes with a guttural groan and kisses Tiriel so intensely she is afraid to suffocate.

And instead of pulling away, he proceeds to fuck her again.

This time, he is very gentle and his eyes don’t glow anymore.

“Astarion!” she gasps when he bites her breasts.

“Delicious,” he mutters, licking the droplets of blood from her sensitive skin.

His second orgasm comes simultaneously with hers and she clenches around him forcing Astarion to stay inside her.

Astarion sees it as permission for the third round. He sits up and places her hips on his lap.

She squirms riding her orgasm and cries out something incoherent, but it seems like Astarion isn’t going to stop any time soon.

Tiriel has a weird feeling his heart is beating.

“Such a good girl,” he hisses. “And all mine.”

“All yours.”

Astarion moans in her ear and she feels his seed leaking down her sore thighs once again.

As it happens, Tiriel feels the world fading away, and the last thing she sees is Astarion’s red eyes.

When Tiriel wakes up, her body is sore and her skin feels disgusting. The mess between her legs has caked and the bite marks all over her body itch.

She gets up and gasps with a sudden pain – her body is covered in bruises, and she doesn't know which of them are from her enemies and which are from her lover.

Probably teasing Astarion was a bad idea.

She needs to bathe.

Tiriel puts her legs on the floor and notices her clothes folded up carefully.

And repaired.

She smiles at the thought that all these hours of her sleep Astarion was right there sewing and watching her. He loves watching her sleep. When she asked him about this habit before, he confessed that he didn’t see a point in looking at anything else but her.

Tiriel opens the door of the bathroom – Astarion sits in the hot water with a book he puts down the second she enters.

“Careful, darling, entering like that. I might want another round.”

“I can barely walk. Spare me, my lord.”

Astarion chuckles and tugs Tiriel into the bathtub.

“How much did I sleep?”

“Almost a day.”

Tiriel sits beside him and Astarion places his head on her chest.

“You know, everyone would think we should be less passionate two decades into our relationship.”

Astarion kisses her shoulder. “You are not getting any colder.”

“Oh no, you love me only for my body warmth! And what if some vampire turns me into an undead?”

Astarion doesn't answer immediately. A decade ago this joke would offend him so much he wouldn’t have talked to her for the whole day – but the nightmares and terrors of his past life have been left behind.

“Then we would lie in each other arms in front of a fireplace, forever young, forever beautiful”

She caresses his ears and he nuzzles her collarbone.

Then Tiriel looks into the water.

“How much did you drink yesterday?”

“A lot.”

Tiriel sighs and straddles his lap, feeling his hardness between her legs. Astarion doesn’t hesitate – a second later, she is already rolling her hips as his cold cock gets warmer inside of her.

“You know… You feel much better… when you are like that,” she admits. “Cold, no heartbeat. That’s more to my liking.”

Tiriel feels awful. It seems like her own body is revolting against her.

“Go to see the healer,” Astarion asks. “Tiriel, honestly, if you don't go yourself, I will drag you there.”

“Tyrant.”

“And you behave like a child! Gods, sometimes I forget I am 200 years older than you!”

Tiriel looks at him and frowns. “You are not.”

“Tiriel, you are my sunshine and my love, but your lack of cognitive abilities is beyond me. How old were you when we met?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Good. By that time, I had been enslaved for 200 years and I was turned at 39. I am more than two centuries older than you.”

Tiriel wants to say something, but she vomits again.

“I'm just sick! Aaah!”

Astarion pulls her up and slings her on his shoulder as if she were his war bounty.

Despite all her efforts, she can’t free herself and accepts her fate. Thankfully, it's rather late and most of the townsfolk are asleep, though she notices a jealous look from a baker.

“Put me on the ground.”

“Let them see what real relationships look like. You know that the blacksmith’s daughters asked me where they can find vampires like me?”

“Hope you didn't send them to the Underdark?”

“I told them I am one of a kind,” Astarion slaps her butt. “But we need to remind these people who we are.”

Astarion stays outside as Tiriel enters the healer’s hut – its owner, a halfling woman, looks at her with annoyance.

“What happened, Tiriel?”

“I am fine! My husband forced me to visit you.” Tiriel describes the symptoms. “I think I got food poisoning.”

“Food poisoning… Tell me, Tiriel, when was the last time you bled?”

Tiriel ponders. Her cycle has always been irregular –- a common thing among half-elfs. Humans are the most fertile race in Faerun, whilst elves are known to see their rare children as gifts from gods. So, Tiriel’s rare menstruations are unexpected obstacles, not something she should endure once a month.

And besides, she sleeps with an elf AND a vampire.

“I don’t remember. Maybe last winter.”

The healer hands her a tiny bundle of herbs. “Chew it. But don’t eat.”

The taste is so gross that Tiriel almost vomits again. She spews it on the floor - and the herb slowly changes its color to black.

“What’s the fuck is that?”

“Tastes like bile, doesn’t it? Oh, why do I have to go through all of this… I knew it couldn’t end well when we invited you two to stay here. You are pregnant.”

“I am… what?”

“You are pregnant, Tiriel.”

“With all due respect – my husband is a fucking vampire! I think his ability to fuck a child into anyone went to the grave along with his breathing, heart beating, and food preferences!”

“I am sure I’ve heard of half-vampires. Now go! I have more urgent patients to take care of. You know, it was a bad idea to use the innkeeper like a battering ram!”

Tiriel leaves the hut feeling as if she was just hit with something heavy.

“Tiriel?” Astarion looks worriedly. “What did she say?”

Tiriel is so scared she wants to cry. There is something inside her, something alive and growing – she can think of her husband as an elf all she wants, but right now she carries something half-dead inside her. Something unnatural. Something… that belongs to the shadows more than to the realm of mortals.

“My sweet, what is it?” Astarion demands. “What happened?”

And Tiriel confesses.

“Maybe… is it a mistake? She could have made a mistake! Gods! No, it can’t be…” He panics.

“Too much blood,” Tiriel says.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve drunk too much, remember? I could hear your heartbeat. You were almost alive…. And I…” Tiriel hesitates. “I have my period once a year. It probably was the day when I could conceive.”

Astarion shakes his head. He gets anxious. Scared. She knows this face too well.

“Astarion!” She tries to grab his hand, but the vampire is too fast. In a moment, he disappears in the tunnels. “Astarion!”

Tiriel stays alone in the streets. She sniffs and returns back home, so quiet and silent.

She can’t imagine Astarion leaving her, but she also can’t imagine herself pregnant.

Maybe he is right, the healer could have been mistaken. She needs to wait. Yes, Tiriel needs to wait.

Astarion doesn’t return in the morning. He doesn’t return the next day. Tiriel feels terrible – she can barely eat or walk. The very thought of going after her husband feels exhausting – she just wants to lie in her bed without making any coherent movement.

She also constantly cries – Tiriel tries to justify it with the feeling of loneliness, but deep inside she knows the answer.

These are the mood swings a pregnant woman endures.

Astarion has never felt so shitty and pathetic in the last twenty years.

He despises himself for his fear and doubts.

His nature demands him to run. To leave and never return. Whatever Tiriel has inside, he can’t deal with it. He can’t be a parent. He doesn't want to become one.

Two centuries of enslavement – only twenty years of freedom. And now what? Will he be stuck raising a child? Which might be born so deranged and ugly it will be barely a sentient being.

He can run. He can disappear and leave Tiriel. She is a beautiful brave woman, the moment the townsfolk realize Astarion is gone there will be a line of men and women courting her.

Even with a monster child.

He walks through Secomber, a sleepy town on the border between the Sword Coast and the High Wood. It took him two days to get here and now he tries to make up his mind.

And what if it’s not his? Tiriel is so loyal and loving, but what if she wanted someone warm, someone who didn’t drink her blood? She could have gotten drunk and picked a man for a one-night stand.

No, it’s not like her.

Astarion is just a pathetic coward who can’t bear responsibility.

He has to come back. He can’t abandon the only person he ever truly loved and who never abandoned him even in his darkest hours.

But he is still afraid. He is paralyzed.

Suddenly he hears a loud cry.

He turns around and sees a human girl, maybe four or five (he still has issues with understanding human age, always assuming someone is younger than they are). She sits on the side of the road, her dress, a tiny copy of an adult one, is dirty, and her knee is bruised. The girl sobs as tears flow down her cheeks.

A weird feeling stirs in Astarion’s undead heart. A desire to console this child, to do something to stop her from crying. She is so vulnerable, so scared… and where the fuck are her parents, or whoever is responsible?!

The door to the tavern opens and a young man rushes to the girl.

“Daddy, I’ve fallen down… and…” She cries, wrapping her hands around his neck.

“That’s all, right, princess,” he answers, stroking her back. Suddenly the man turns around and notices Astarion. “Are you looking for something?”

“What? No, I just heard the cries.”

“Well, she cries so loud she can be heard in Daggerlake. If you need a room, there is another inn on the western side of the town. We are out of beds today.”

Astarion shakes his head. No. He is going back. The sunrise will meet him in the woods and he will hide in a cave. He will be back to Tiriel in two days, begging her to forgive him.

Because he can’t live without her. And he…he wants to experience what is coming next.

“Princess… An interesting pet name,” Astarion chuckles. The girl has already stopped crying and now she watches the vampire with curiosity.

“Yeah, we are far from nobles,” the innkeeper smiles. “But she is my only daughter and who are girls to their fathers if not princesses?” with these words he kisses the girl’s forehead and enters the inn, closing the door.

Astarion walks inside the house. Tiriel is fast asleep, he can hear her breathing. The kitchen is messy – it seems like his half-elf wife was hungry all these days but didn’t have any strength to clean the mess.

Astarion comes to the bedroom and lies beside her. Tiriel opens her eyes and touches his cheek with tender fingers.

“I knew you would be back.”

“I am sorry. I was scared.”

“I was, too. But I can’t run away from what is inside me.”

“I know, love. I will never do this again”

Tiriel places her cheek on his chest. “If the child is half-undead, can I ever carry it?”

“I don’t know.”

They lie in silence holding each other in their hands.

“You know… I’ve been deprived of mortality,” Astarion says. “Everything normal was taken away from me. And yet I am here. Married. With my own house. Free to do anything I want. When I was in Secomber, I saw a man with his daughter. And you know, I just… wanted the same thing. To carry my own child in my arms. Because it’s a normal mortal thing and if so, I will be no different from that young innkeeper who calls his baby daughter ‘princess’.”

Tiriel caresses his cheek. “I need to go to that innkeeper and ask if he needs anything for returning my husband to me.”

“You need to see the girl. Such a lovely little creature,” he smiles.

“Ours will be lovely too.”

Astarion elbows up. “Tiriel… we are going to keep it, aren’t we?”

Tiriel sighs. She did think about terminating, Astarion realizes. In those dark hours when he was hiding like a coward.

“I want to keep it,” Tiriel says. “Besides… I am still a half-elf. It’s not like miscarriages are rare among my race. Let’s see how it works out.”

Astarion smiles and finally relaxes enough to meditate.

Druids hate the undead because, unlike nature, they can't change. He will prove them all wrong. His life is changing and he is too.

In the best and scariest way possible.

He puts his palm on Tiriel’s flat belly. Somehow, he is sure they are going to have a girl. -- Tag list

@tugoslovenka

@herstxrgirl

@herdarkestnightelegance

@vixstarria

@not-so-lost-after-all

@marcynomercy

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@astarion-imagine-archive

@veillsar

@elora-the-slutty-songstress

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inoreuct · 7 months

Text

*drums my fingers on the table* so… weretiger zoro angst, anyone? (happy ending tho bcs. always happy endings) [cw: slight gore]

Zoro is on the hunt. There is something in the back of his brain snarling protect them, protect them, chase it down—

“—arimo!”

He’s so hungry. Hell, he doesn’t even need to chase— His prey is right there in front of him, fresh blood racing through its veins as its tiny heart works overtime. He can taste its fear at the back of his throat, and he bares his fangs in a grin; the poor thing screams, a sharp, high keen of terror as it scrambles backwards, and Zoro pounces.

“—arimo!”

He is kind enough to give it a quick death. Its throat rips out easily, trachea crushing between his jaws as he slits its torso open with his blades. Blood sprays across his body. Why hadn’t he shifted? He spits out a mouthful of bone and cartilage, pierces his fangs through a forearm and yanks, feels something pop and hears a wet tear. This would be so much easier with his claws—

“Zoro!”

Oh. His human is calling for him.

Sanji looks scared. Why, though? He drops the arm in his mouth, lets it hit the deck with a wet splat as he croons a soothing apology at not replying sooner. Gore is sticky beneath his boots as he stalks forward and he holds in a growl of irritation, nimbly avoiding the guts strewn across the wooden planks.

Rumbling his reassurance does nothing. Sanji still looks vaguely afraid, and so Zoro tries again; safe, he purrs, and the tip of his tail does not swish through the blood puddled on the ground like it’s supposed to. He cannot feel it at all.

The cook doesn’t budge. Zoro can smell his apprehension, his nerves, the slight sour tang of fear that makes him want to go hunt down whatever’s causing it and make it hurt. He smells it on the rest of his crew, too, and he doesn’t get it. The threat is gone, no? He senses no danger. Scanning their surroundings on the enemy boat yields no answers; all the men around them are still very, very dead. Zoro had made sure of that, so what was the problem? They should be back on the Sunny right now, sitting in the galley debriefing and having dinner—

Something clicks into place in the recesses of his mind, and dread starts to prickle through his body.

He had been so… He’d almost eaten—

Oh, no.

Zoro tries to shift the shape of his soul and fails. He does not feel his body changing. His shadow is, has been, in the shape of a man’s, and the blood on his skin suddenly feels disgusting.

In the span of a moment he becomes hyper-aware of it all, pouring down his front, dripping off his chin, salty-sweet-metallic on his tongue. He turns to the side and spits multiple times, tries to get the cloying taste out of his throat as he raises a hand before realising that it, too, is coated in red. Zoro almost retches as he swallows instinctively, nausea slamming into him in a wave so strong that his stomach churns. He tastes bile. He’s thankful for it— It’s better than blood.

Anything is better than blood.

“Zoro?”

His head snaps around so fast that something cricks in his neck. His eyes are saucer-wide. Sanji takes a step forward and he is rooted to the spot, frozen statue-still; he is sure his heart stops beating for a second. Fitting. He knows he should step back— Knows now that he had been the threat, and yet he cannot move.

“Let’s just… go back to the ship, how about that?” Sanji says tentatively, wincing as he kicks aside something that looks like a liver to put his foot down again, and he’s so close. Too close. “Let me—”

“No,” Zoro rasps, and God, fuck, he sounds like a fucking death rattle and he wants to claw his own voice box out of his fool mouth. The cook’s expression is a twist between desperation and something else, something that makes Zoro want to gag and cry and scream. Sanji should never look like that and it’s because of him. “No,” he tries again, quieter. He looks away. He doesn’t think he can stand looking into those blue, blue eyes. “It’s my mess, I’ll clean up.” Sanji makes a noise like he’s about to protest, and Zoro pierces through his own heart as he turns his back. “Alone.”

A beat of silence, and then Sanji is walking away. His crew is walking away. Zoro stands, surrounded by bodies he’d ripped apart, and thinks that perhaps this is how everybody that has ever been under his claws had felt.

And that’s that.

The following days are hell. He breathes in and everything he smells is wrong; anxiety, worry, an undercurrent of tentativeness that makes him throw himself into his training with renewed fervour. He is torn between the urge to bare his throat, show his belly and prove to his crew that they will never come to any harm from him, and the pride that insists he will not go against his nature to make himself more palatable for anybody else.

He is all fang and claw and wickedly sharp teeth. He is a predator by nature, given humanity and a mortal form. This is the shape of his soul.

But they are his family. His nakama. And sitting here on the floor of the crow’s nest after running every kata he knows countless times, Zoro feels painfully, inexplicably sad. It is unfamiliar; he doesn't really do regrets, but it reminds him that at least some part of him is still human.

He lost control. He doesn’t do that, either. He never does that. But he did, and now none of his nakama can look him in the eye.

Somebody climbs up the ladder, and his nostrils flare.

“Zoro?” Chopper asks, peeking his head up, and the swordsman immediately tries to look like he’d been busy, which… is ridiculous. He is sitting on the floor and moping. The sigh that whooshes from his lungs is defeated.

“Hm?” he prompts, when the tiny reindeer doesn’t say anything else.

Chopper climbs up fully, rubbing his hooves together. “I’ve checked everybody over except you.”

Zoro can see the way he takes a fortifying breath and walks closer with a purpose. He stretches out his legs and allows Chopper to do as he wishes.

“…We’re all worried about you,” the reindeer says after a while, staring intently into Zoro’s eye and testing his pupillary reflex.

The swordsman gives a non-committal hum. “Scared of me, you mean.”

“No!”

Zoro jumps when a hoof whacks him across the forehead. “Wh—?!”

“We’re scared for you!” Chopper scolds, sounding dangerously close to tears. His distress turns Zoro’s stomach. “Do you know how scary it was to see you like that?! And then! You haven’t eaten in three days, and you probably haven’t slept, either, have you? Sanji’s been trying not to push because he knows you’re upset, but he’s been pacing a hole into the galley floor and chain-smoking like—”

“Wait,” Zoro interrupts. Replays that chunk of speech in his head. “You just said it was scary to see me like that.”

“Because we didn’t know what happened to you!” Chopper cries, huffing shakily. “And the look on your face when you realised—”

Zoro’s back bumps into the bench as Chopper grabs him in a hug, arms around his neck. His breath catches in his chest.

“Don’t do that again,” Chopper says firmly, shoving Zoro’s shoulder for good measure as he pulls back. “You seem okay, at least physically. Any pain?”

“No.”

“Any trouble shifting?”

“Haven’t tried.”

The doctor makes a noise, a cross between displeasure and something softer. “Well, try soon. Can Sanji come and see you?”

“…Yeah.”

“Okay.” Chopper stands, giving Zoro one last look. “For the sake of our cook’s lung capacity, come down to dinner.”

Zoro sucks down a breath and holds it until it burns. He smells worry-care-care-anxiety-care and pats a hand over Chopper’s hat. “Alright.”

He sits back against the bench as their tiny doctor leaves, and within a minute someone is climbing up again. Sanji stands, silhouetted by the late-afternoon light. Zoro’s chest aches.

“Marimo,” the cook says evenly, and Zoro resists the urge to scent the air.

“Swirly-brow,” he returns, neutral. Testing the waters. “Heard you missed me.”

Sanji is silent, and Zoro’s heart gives a sickening squeeze. Has he overstepped already? He opens his mouth to say something, anything, and nearly jumps when he ends up with a lapful of gangly limbs, his spine pressed hard into sanded wood.

There are hands on his face, in his hair, lightly callused and holding him in place as Sanji kisses him like he’s got a point to prove. Zoro freezes up at first, because even in his human form his teeth are sharp and he doesn’t know what he will do if he draws Sanji’s blood. Maybe run away to live out the rest of his life in well-deserved exile.

But then he smells salt, and something wet smears against his cheek, and Sanji’s lashes are clumped with tears as he pulls back and there is a slender finger jabbing hard into his sternum.

“Don’t you ever,” Sanji hisses, poking him again for emphasis, “do that shit to me again, you fucking bastard.”

He smells like bitter fatigue, acrid worry sharpened with anger and underneath all of it— love, lemon-bright and so goddamn sweet that it coats Zoro’s tongue like honey, wipes every memory of red iron and rust from his mind. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, eyes roving over Sanji’s face; the curled ends of his brows, the long lashes, the high cheekbones and strong nose and a sharp cupid’s bow, so familiar he could trace it in his sleep. “I thought you— wouldn’t want to see me.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Sanji spits, his face crumpling, and he goes easily when Zoro coaxes him to his chest. “Do you know how long I spent worrying about whether or not you were okay?”

“I know,” Zoro soothes, and his heart is beating so fast that his ribs hurt. “I’m alright.”

“Well, I’m not,” Sanji announces, digging his knee up into Zoro’s side with a vengeance until he gets a wheeze. “You owe me three packs of cigs. You owe the whole crew an apology. Luffy’s damn near lost his appetite; even Nami won’t so much as insult me when I try and get a rise out of her.”

Sanji’s glaring at him with the force of the sun, fierce and beautiful and golden-bright, but the dark circles beneath his eyes make guilt drag razor-thin talons across Zoro’s stomach. “You shouldn’t smoke so much,” he says softly, brows furrowing as he cards Sanji’s bangs out of his face and cups his cheek.

“You shouldn’t go berserk and then isolate yourself without considering the fact that your crew would be worried sick about you,” the cook fires back without missing a beat. He leans into Zoro’s touch anyway, and Zoro smooths a thumb into the hollow between his bridge and brow.

“Weren’t you scared?”

“More— unsettled, maybe. Marimo,” Sanji’s throat bobs, eyes flickering over Zoro’s face. “Your eyes were slits. Like you were expecting to get attacked. We didn’t know how to talk to you without you panicking and running away.”

“I do not run—” he begins, scowling, and then shuts his mouth. What has he been doing these past three days, if not running away? “I think…” He digs deep into the memory, lays everything out in his head and ah.

That man had crept up in Sanji’s blind spot, a wickedly long knife in his hand, and Zoro hadn’t thought. Hadn’t planned, just jumped. “He was gonna get to you,” he mutters, forcing himself to hold Sanji’s gaze even as the cook frowns. “I’m sorry, cook. I lost control. It won’t happen again.”

The words are clunky and unfamiliar in his mouth. He’d almost eaten a man in his human form. That had to have looked all kinds of fucked up; he really didn’t blame his crew if they—

“Oi,” Sanji scoffs, flicking him in the forehead. “Are you always so distracted even with pretty people in your lap?”

Zoro huffs through his nose. “Oh, I’m sorry, princess. Just contemplating how I nearly ate someone.”

The cook’s mouth twitches. “There are a great many jokes I can make about that, but I’ll save them for later. You’re a tiger, marimo. You were just protecting us. We really can’t hold it against you.”

“…You’re not scared of me,” he murmurs one last time, because he has to be sure.

“I’m not,” Sanji confirms easily, rubbing his thumb over the shell of Zoro’s ear, dragging through his earrings and making them tinkle like wind chimes. “Come down and the rest of them won’t be, either.”

Something in him gives. Shifts, releases, crumbles in his chest like a little collapsible galaxy as he pulls the cook down for another kiss. He feels Sanji’s tongue trace over the points of his teeth, utterly fearless— It steals the breath right from his lungs, this blatant, unwavering trust that he’s been allowed to hold cupped in his battle-rough palms. He gathers flaxen hair into his hand so that he can look the cook in both eyes, blue as the sky at high noon and crystal clear. Sanji leans into his chest with a ragged exhale and Zoro slides one palm up to the nape of his neck, one over his ribs, if only to feel him breathe, and the words slip out. “I love you.”

He doesn’t know why it feels like he’s never said them before. They must have crossed his tongue hundreds of times by now, his mind a hundredfold more. He loves Sanji, he knows; it aches under his ribs, next to his heart, woven into his soul. He loves his crew, he knows; he gives them leeway he would allow nobody else, and refuses to accept that he needs their affection as much as they want his.

But it feels new. Every single time, it feels brand-new. Like a freshly-minted coin that never tarnishes, pure, solid gold— So he lets himself be greedy and leaves his fingerprints all over it, goes to sleep with it tucked in his fist like a child holding on to a dream. “I love you,” he whispers into Sanji’s hair, and he feels the cook shift in his arms, feels the same words shaped against his throat, teeth to bone, fingers around his heart.

He purrs the words subsonic, over and over even when his crew cannot hear. He will put them out into the world until his nakama know and he will think them a thousand times more.

But for now, they have an hour left till dinner. Sanji is breathing slowly, his arms tucked against Zoro’s chest. The lines of worry between his brows are smoothed out.

Zoro thinks he’ll take a nap.

#zosan #one piece zosan #roronoa zoro #zosan au #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #one piece sanji #straw hat pirates #one piece #weretiger zoro au #it’s like 4am im going to bed #goodnight zosan nation #waiting for my weretiger zoro anons to see this like hehehehehehe #ino writes

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theeoriginals · 4 months

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ok but what about werewolf!reader who is protective over tyler lockwood since mason died, and she's at senior prank night when klaus turns tyler. i imagine klaus being curious about her bc he hasn't seen or met her since she doesn't hang around elena & co. bc of what they did to mason. love u and thank you for blessing us with all these requests!!

i think i want you | klaus mikaelson

klaus mikaelson x reader (no y/n!)

author's notes; sorry this took a while!! holidays got the best of me and i've been so busy. i hope u like this!! go check out my klaus fic on wattpad for more content :) link on my masterlist

warnings; mentioned violence & death but nothing explicit. this is genuinely just a lot of fluff, and only a tiny bit of angst. I like writing klaus being straight up infatuated so enjoy

She’s heard of him. Klaus Mikaelson. Not only is he an Original, but he’s the worst of them. He’s a mystery, a myth of a man. The hybrid. The only one of his kind, and he’s trying to make more. He’s trying to become a god of his own making. He’s a terrifying beast, even in their world of monsters. He is the monster beneath your bed, he is the boogeyman that you see in the shadows of alleyways and glimpses out of the corner of your eye.

When she meets him for the first time, she expects something out of a fairytale, she supposes. It was unintentional, the image of him she had in her head, but she’s heard of this fabled man her whole life as a warning of what can happen if you grow lonely in this life.

She figured if she ever met Klaus Mikaelson, it’d be the first and only time. There weren’t many stories based on people’s personal interactions with him for a reason. If he bothered to pay you a personal visit and not just send one of his cronies out to deal with you, it probably meant you wouldn’t be seeing another day.

But instead of that, instead of meeting her demise at the hand of the infamous man for some offense she most likely didn’t even mean to do, she meets him in the high school gym in Mystic Falls, Virginia.

She meets him, and he’s just a man.

He’s a terrible man, no doubt, but just a man. She is perhaps wrongfully unafraid of him because of this. It most likely doesn’t bode well for her, because even though he looks just as human as the rest of them, she doesn’t doubt those stories about him are all real, and likely worse than the retellings.

But she was raised with a pack that taught her to be unafraid in the face of death, and even though she doesn’t have that pack anymore because of men just like Klaus Mikaelson, she wants Tyler to know the security and safety of it just as she had.

She does not flinch when he looks her way, and resists the urge to rip his head off of his shoulders when he snaps Tyler’s neck and puts Bonnie on a timer for finding a way to bring him back to life as a hybrid.

She knows she can’t win a fight against him, so she doesn’t fight back, not even as he forces Tyler to drink the doppelgänger’s blood and turns him into a hybrid. A half-dead, half-wolf thing that her pack would likely call him an abomination for. It’s a very dark, comforting thought to her that they aren’t around to condemn Tyler to the ends of the earth for something that was entirely out of his control.

She knows Tyler is frightened of her doing that, just by the way he looks at her. He learned from Mason and herself that there’s a sense of loyalty to their kind, and that vampires are an inherent enemy. Even his relationship with Caroline would be enough to get him shunned from most werewolf communities at this point. Though, even Mason himself didn’t take that into consideration considering his relationship with one of the doppelgängers.

After everything is said and done that night, she takes Tyler home without saying a single word to Klaus. Anything she wants to say will get her killed, and Tyler needs her more than ever now, so she can’t get ahead of herself.

Tyler sheds rare tears in the privacy of his home. He tells her he’s terrified right now because of the fact that a part of him is technically dead now, and that he’s never felt like a monster about being a werewolf until now.

She does her best to comfort him, but it doesn’t help much. She doesn’t know what he’s feeling right now and they both know it. If the circumstances were any different, she’d probably think he was the new enemy.

He falls asleep eventually and she leaves him be, heading to her temporary room in the Lockwood mansion. She falls asleep looking at the moon just outside her window, thinking about how she was just a little disappointed in the fact that Klaus Mikaelson is just a man.

──────

The next time she sees Klaus Mikaelson, it’s in the tea room in the Lockwood house. He somehow looks even more underwhelming in this place, despite its grandiosity. She doesn’t know why or when she’s going to stop feeling so disappointed in the fact that if she didn’t know any better, she could’ve walked past him on the street without even looking his way.

He’s there for Tyler, she knows, but Carol’s playing her role of oblivious hostess, and now she’s left to entertain him while Carol goes and handles a small, mayoral emergency.

Carol leaves them with a charming smile, winking her direction, and she ignores the older woman pointedly.

“I don’t think I got your name the other night at the school,” Klaus says, tilting his head as he looks at her. “I’m not usually so rude, but the stakes were high and I ran out of patience. You know how it is.”

She narrows her eyes, shaking her head a bit. “A thousand years old and you haven’t worked on your patience? Maybe your priorities are a little skewed,”

Klaus’s eyes flash with danger, but she swears she sees amusement in the smirk that pulls at his lips. It sparks that flint inside of her that likes to push and push, just to see the breaking point. She’d tried to deny it, but it only takes the smallest moment for that desire to set its sights on Klaus Mikaelson, even though pushing him could mean death. Her curiosity was a fatal flaw in itself, she knows.

“My only goal in life has been to break this curse,” He says, leaning forward to sit the cup of tea Carol had brought him on the table in between them, the only obstacle stopping him from lunging for her and snapping her neck before she could even blink. She wonders if he’s even aware of all the ways he could kill her, just by looking at her in this mundane setting. She doesn’t know if she actually wants an answer to that, though. “And now I’ve done that. I think a thousand years of this has proven I have nothing but patience.”

She hums, acknowledging the fact that he was right. She couldn’t imagine being in his shoes, waiting a thousand years to break a curse that kept you from being who you are. Even now, knowing that the Sun and the Moon curse was fabricated in order to help Klaus break the only curse– his curse– when it comes down to it, she can’t blame him for his insistence.

But she thinks about Tyler and how frightened he was, and she can’t stop the annoyance that builds in her all over again, so any bit of understanding washes away like sand beneath the rising tides.

She shrugs, unwilling to vocalize the depth of her understanding, as miniscule as it may be. “Still, choosing a hormonal teenage boy as your first hybrid probably wasn’t the smartest decision, wouldn’t you say?”

Klaus narrows his eyes at her and she stubbornly sits still, unwavering beneath his prolonged, burning stare. “You’re protective of him. I understand why you wouldn’t like me. But I’ve just made him the strongest creature he could ever be. He won’t need you, or any other pack he might have been clinging to before this.”

And this, she thinks, is the biggest indicator to why she’s not properly afraid of this man before her. It’s not just because he looks unfortunately normal, spare his admittedly beautiful face, or that he’s yet to truly focus any of his true capabilities of danger in her direction. It’s that, at the end of the day, Klaus Mikaelson is just as human as the rest of them are. Because no matter how long you live, or what kind of creature you are, everyone gets lonely.

“On the contrary,” She says, blinking slowly as she scans his face. “Tyler needs me now more than ever. And any pack would be lucky to have him around. That’s the whole point of a pack. You know that you’re never alone, no matter what happens.”

To a degree, she knows that’s a lie. There are plenty of packs out there that will banish Tyler and any other hybrid that is made in the coming months because of the rivalry between the creatures that the hybrids are made of. But she also knows that for every pack that will turn them away, there’s one that won’t. There’s always someone, even if it’s just one person, and she’s willing to be that person for Tyler, or for any other hybrid that goes through the loss of their pack.

“It’s a shame you’ve never known what that’s like,” She says, leaning forward to set her own cup of tea down, a mirror of his actions a moment ago. “Unwavering loyalty and trust, and a sense of family that never goes away. You may think that Tyler has no one, but I will always be here for him, just as I was his uncle.”

Something defensive passes through his face and he stands abruptly, making her tilt her head back to maintain eye contact with him.

Klaus leans down into her space, and they glare at each other with a surprising amount of vitriol that neither one of them feels is even genuine.

“You can cling to your idea of family all you want, but it won’t change the fact that Tyler isn’t just a werewolf anymore. And as much as you may want to deny it, you can’t help him anymore just like you couldn’t help his poor uncle,”

He stands upright again, looking at her almost accusingly. “But since it’s causing no harm to me, I suppose there’s no real reason to make you give up this desperate mission. I wish you the best of luck, dear, truly,”

He doesn’t wait for a response from her before he leaves, and after her initial anger and embarrassment wears off, she realizes he never even talked to Tyler like she assumed he came here to do in the first place.

──────

Mystic Falls has never felt like a smaller town. She’s never run into someone so many times when all she wants to do is avoid them.

It’s like all of the sudden, since that very first night she saw Klaus Mikaelson, he’s everywhere. He’s in Tyler’s house, because the newly-made hybrid suddenly worships him. He’s in her dreams. She can’t escape him.

Even now, sitting in a corner booth at the Mystic Grill, he’s suddenly there, sitting across from her like an old friend catching up for lunch.

Immediately, her face twists in disgust. “Klaus.”

He smiles in the face of her adversity, and says her name with a fondness of unknown origins. She almost feels insane, looking at him with any degree of civility.

“What do I owe this visit to?”

“I’m curious about something and I’m hoping you’ll humor me,”

“Interesting start,” She huffs, taking a sip of her drink beside her. “What on earth could you possibly be curious enough about that you have to ask me?”

“You, of course,”

She swallows roughly, nearly choking as she looks at him in surprise. “Me?”

The hybrid nods, smirking at her reaction.

“What… What do you want to know about me?”

He leans forward on the table, looking at her as she suddenly avoids his eyes, unwilling to admit that she’s feeling heat rise in her chest. “Why is it you aren’t banding together with those bumbling idiots to get rid of me, hm?”

“Oh,” She breathes out, face turning solemn for a moment as she looks down at the tabletop. “I don’t– I don’t have any reason to want to get rid of you, really. I don’t necessarily like you, but you haven’t hurt Tyler in any permanent way so… I guess I’m just not really worried about it.”

When she finally meets Klaus’s gaze again, there’s something shocked and unexpectedly warm in his blue eyes that makes her own soften.

“Is it really that simple?”

She falls silent for another moment, picking nonsensically at her nails. “They killed my friend.”

She looks back up at him, sighing. “Mason Lockwood. Tyler’s uncle. He came here because of Katherine– she was looking for the moonstone so she could break that stupid curse that you made up. And they killed him for it,” She shakes her head, anger seeping into her voice. “They’re irrational. And if I’ve learned anything about this life, it’s that being irrational gets people killed.”

Klaus hums lowly. “You are right about that.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, she looks up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “What do you want from me, Klaus? I’m not picking sides here– I’m going to protect Tyler until it kills me, and that’s all. So what do you want from me?”

He observes her for a moment and she doesn’t falter beneath his stare, if only out of spite.

“Perhaps,” He starts. “I just want to know you.”

Something fragile breaks on her face and she shows just a little bit more of that vulnerability to him in this new space between them. “What’s so interesting about me that Klaus Mikaelson wants to know me?”

His eyes search her face, lost. “I don’t know yet. I’m hoping you’ll let me find out,”

She lets out a breath, quiet, and admittedly flattered.

A smile pulls at her lips, bashful in a way she isn’t used to. She allows it to spread across her face and beneath Klaus’s gaze, she feels like a blooming rose being adored. It makes her feel things she’s nowhere near ready to admit to herself, or anyone else. “I think we can work something out.”

Klaus’s returning smile takes her breath away. It feels new, and wonderful.

#klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #kol mikaelson #the originals #fic recs #tvd klaus #klaus x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson fanfic #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #tyler lockwood

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countycashew54 · 26 days

Text

GUYS IM WRITING FANFIC

Caught-AlastorxLucifer fic

Also please remember this is my FIRSTT attempt at writing so... if you yell at me I will cry.

Waking up after a one-night stand is rough.

Waking up after a one-night stand with the Radio Demon proved to be just as horrific, if not more. Only the difficult nature of this wake up had little focus on Alastor at all. In fact, the opposite.

See, when you wake up to your daughter and her entire hotel, residents and staff, (although that's not saying much) barging into your room while you're in bed with the man who is also trying to parent your daughter; you're bound to have an extremely, painstakingly rough morning.

"Dad we can't fin- oh. OH-wo- that is jus-... Dad is that- Alastor?" Charlie was very clearly fighting to keep her shock and disgust off of her face, with a forced smile. Whether it was from seeing her father and her hotelier in bed together or the state of unclothed said men were in remained to be seen.

"Morning Deer!" Alastor smiled, as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Shit- Charlie, sweetie, this isn't what it looks like, I mean we- he-"

"NO- I mean, no need to explain dad! I am super happy to see you guys are finally…getting along! In fact, I am SO happy about it that I am going to create an activity for our patrons focused on making friendships and boundaries! You know maybe you two could be the ones to lead the activity and-" Charlie's shock-toned voice began to trail off as she was slowly walked away from the room by Vaggie, who managed to glare threateningly at them both with her one eye.

Seconds, minutes?, passed by with Alastor adjusting his hair as if nothing just occurred, while Lucifer was engaged in a reluctant stare down with Husk, Angel, Niffty, and Sir Pentious.

Angel was the one to break the standoff, a wide grin on his face.

"So I guess now I know why Smiles wasn' intrested in gettin' a sample of all o' this," a lewd gesture to his legs by one set of hands, and a scrunch of his chest fluff with the other, "when I offered huh?"

Alastor narrowed his eyes at the spider while Lucifer began to feel a golden glow coming to his cheeks, "A-and why would that be? exactly?"

"ain't it obvious? Al clearly got a kink for short kings wit' more power than he's used to, I don' fit the bill on either o' those."

"I think you will suffice to close your mouth before you end up caught in your own web, Pest." The Radio Demon's eyes had begun to darken to black as his antlers grew steadily.

"HA! He's only mad cus' I totally got it right! Huskie-baby you owe me twenty bucks!"

"Yeah, yeah let's get out of here before he decides you're his next meal," Husk had begun pushing Angel away in almost the same manner Vaggie had with Charlie.

Another moment of silence ticked by..

"Ssso-" Pentious was cut off by Lucifer's growl.

"LEAVE. please," horns and scarlet eyes flared.

As Pentious fled, Niffty awaited instruction from Alastor, who then nodded to release her from her stand still. Once she was out of the doorway Lucifer slammed the door closed with a flick of the wrist, falling back into the pillows with a groan.

Alastor had returned to his usual form, still sitting upright he glanced towards Lucifer, "well that was an entertaining start to the morning."

Lucifer ripped himself upright to glare at the man, "what part of making our little night of fun known to the entire hotel, to my daughter, was entertaining to you?"

"Why the overwhelming discomfort from all parties involved of course," He then leaned forward to whisper, "you included, my darling, you now know how much I love to watch you squirm."

Lucifer froze as the words processed through his brain and sent chills down his body. His eyes slightly crossing as he gazed at the sinner with shocked lust.

As Lucifer was processing, the demon had already stood from the bed and snapped his clothing back into pristine condition with the use of his shadows, "I do hope to see you at this morning's breakfast, the tense atmosphere that our daughter facilitates won't be the same without you, mon ange."

With a swift kiss to Lucifer's cheek the sinner was out the door, humming a radiostaticed tune that sounded vaguely from the 30's.

Lucifer stayed still for a moment, calming his body down while also wondering what had just happened. A jolt came to him when he realized, “WAIT, OUR DAUGHTER?”

Once again, please be nice to me this is my first time writing anything so I literally winged it. Hope you guys enjoyed it :,)

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #radioapple #fanfic #ao3 #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel lucifer #appleradio #angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin niffty #hazbin sir pentious #fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #the radio demon #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne

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morallyinept · 7 months

Text

Five Days - A Joel Miller Series

Summary: Joel Miller comes back into your life unexpectedly after a gap of thirty years, and stirs up all kinds of memories and longing. Now, as you're stationed on an outpost for five days alone with the man you stupidly let go of all those years ago, you have a chance to confront him about your past life together and all the things you wished you’d said and done.

But Joel’s different now, and you know you need to tread carefully. Joel Miller is not the same man you once knew in another life.

A slow burn romance set in the post apocalyptic world, approx. twenty or so years after the initial Cordyceps outbreak.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)

Chapter Word Count: 3.1k

Series Masterlist

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: Setting the scene. Establishing characters. Joel will make his debut in chapter 2. Nothing too heavy to note in this chapter.

Enjoy! 🖤

The wooden gates are tall, thick.

You can’t see over them or through them much either. But you can hear the sounds of approaching horses on the other side, the clip-clopping of many sets of impending hooves.

The four horsemen that flank you all push you forward without touching you. Their threats are enough to have kept you moving at a steady pace the whole arduous journey here. The one on the pale horse to your right, that's Death, you're convinced.

You know without a shadow of a doubt that if you or the others try anything, a bullet will rip through the back of your brain stem as he keeps watch with ghostly dead orbs fixated on you.

You glance at Kelper; his furtive eyes meet yours. He breathes out slowly, but he’s clearly as rattled as you are.

You throw a nervous glance over your shoulder at the other three - Max, Guthrie and Sal - and their dirty, frightened faces mirror yours. You gulp, stopping dead in your tracks as the gates are fully wrenched open.

You all immediately raise your hands as you're met with barrels of guns aimed at you from more men on horses. There are so many of them.

Shit.

Two men who are not on horseback, are pulled forward by rabid dogs that bark and fight against the chains choking them; they circle you all. You freeze, staying as still as you can as the dogs rumble around with snapping teeth, sniffing you out for possible infection.

Once you’re all deemed clear, your heart rate slows, but still thuds against your rib cage as you wait anxiously.

All their eyes are on you; this tiny, dishevelled group of unarmed strangers who have floated unexpectedly into their territory. They all believe you to be a bigger threat to them than any infected that may stray by. That fear is evidenced by the weapons they brandish so uncouthly at you all.

Five, against at least sixteen. Plus the four at the rear. Clumsy maths tells you you’re massively outnumbered if you were to try anything.

They make sure you know this.

The infected they can predict; feed and kill, it's an MO that’s catatonically simple. But living people with functioning brains are wildly unpredictable and that’s what makes them - you - dangerous.

“Ain’t nothing quite like that Wyoming hospitality, huh?” Kelper whispers to you. It's just like him to try and make light of the terrifying predicament, but it fails to reassure you this time.

“You think they’ll listen to us?” You murmur back to Kelper warily.

A woman rides up in between the horses on a brown stud. And the marksmen part like the Red Sea to make way for her.

She looks important, authoritative in her stance and tough shoulders framed with flowing wayward braids like Medusa's snakes, and Kelper notices it too.

“If they want to keep on living this way, they’ll have to.” He murmurs back.

You glance past them all; the commune inside the gates is thriving much to your surprise. Timber houses, throes of green plants; children that don’t appear malnourished run around freely. Your stomach rumbles and you can't remember the last time you ate something substantial.

Kelper takes a singular step forward slowly, and the repeated frantic hollering for him to remain still pulls your focus back to the charged situation at hand. A fragile powder keg that could go off with one wrong move or word exchanged.

And then you’re all fucked.

“We’re not here to cause any trouble, we’re not hostile." He assures. His voice is clear and steady despite the noticeable tremor in his fingers. “But you have to listen to me, your very lives here depend on it.”

The woman on the horse speaks. “We don’t take kindly to threats.”

Kelper shakes his head. “No. It’s a friendly warning, ma’am. If you’ll please hear me out, that is?”

She nods once after eyeing him cautiously and he continues to make his case. “There’s a horde of infected not too far from here. About fifteen miles out west, give or take. Over a thousand at least, possibly strayed from the cities.”

The woman flinches at this revelation, but remains steady. Kelper recommences. “We lost our people to them. This is the last of us, five. We lost everything-”

She interrupts harshly. “I’m sorry, I really am-”

“I know what you’re going to say. You can’t help us. You can’t make room for us... I can understand that.” Kelper bites back, but is non-threatening.

“No. We have plenty of room.” She corrects.

You baulk, but the glib comment doesn't throw him off.

“I get it, we’re a threat to you. You don’t know us. This world has made people less trusting and made others who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of that. Coming here with a wild story about mass infected? Hell, I would have shot me already and been done with it.” Kelper explains through a hard swallow and you know he means it.

He would have if the shoe were on the other foot. You’ve witnessed it time and again. It’s one of the reasons you’re still alive.

“But what I tell you is true, whether you believe me or not. You have more scouts, right? These fine gentlemen here,” he motions to the four menacing horsemen behind him that ambushed you all, “they spotted us a mile off and I don’t doubt that you have more out there protecting your interests. It’s wise of you, it’s what I did with my people. There are worse things out there than infected, ma’am.”

The woman nods slowly, listening.

“But send some out west, and you’ll see. I can show you where on a map. All it takes is for that horde to get wind of you here and they’ll be on you like hornets to a popsicle. And all this? Everything you’ve built here, will be gone.” Kelper implores.

“You underestimate us.” The woman says boldly.

Kelper shakes his head. “No ma’am. I don’t doubt that you can take care of your business, your people. By the looks of it you've done a stand up job so far. It’s a heck of a fortress you got going on here. You’ve endured and survived. But you're massively outnumbered. Against a thousand, maybe more? You know it.” Kelper steadied.

The woman tensed, soothing her horse when it whinnied with a gentle pat to its head.

“You don't strike me as impulsive; it’s why you guys have survived so long, right? Why you’ll continue to, long after this is over.”

You remain still as you scan the faces of some of the marksmen peering at one another uneasily as Kelper speaks. He’s getting through to them. You realise you’ve been holding your breath as you splutter. One of the men holding a rifle eyes you carefully.

The woman breathes in as you breathe out, and you can see her shoulders relax a little; her grip on the reins loosen.

“You’re smart, ma’am. I can sense that about you. You know this can’t be ignored and will need a careful plan. They’re right on your doorstep and could be coming at you any day. We can help you with that. We want to help you. That's why we came, to warn you.” Kelper continues.

The woman looks at a man on her left; one of the marksmen with a bald, shiny head reddening from the sun. He returns a stare back to her, mirroring her own concerns.

Your arms are aching and you lower them a little, still keeping your palms out. Your eyes are watering from squinting in the hot glare above. Your mouth is the driest you've ever recalled it being in your lifetime.

All around you are rifles and guns pointed in your face and you try to breathe normally. Counting the stark, slow minutes until a decision is made, whether it’s in your favour or not.

“All I ask is that you let us help you-”

“Why?” She interrupts. “Why do you want to help us?”

“Because,” Kelper said, “I wish someone had helped us.”

The woman eyes him carefully. You feel it grip your heart as you hear the small choke on the end of his words.

“No-one else needs to die because of any stubbornness or mistakes... Once it’s over, we’ll be on our way, if that’s what you insist. We know our place. But we'd be grateful if you can spare some food, something to drink whilst we’re here? We’ve been displaced on the road for days. I know you know what that’s like, ma’am.” Kelper professes to the woman.

She bristles and you see her swallow; her hard eyes then soften a little and you smile inwardly.

He did it, Kelper got through. You breathe out freely, your stance relaxing a little.

“My name is Maria.” She states to him.

“I’m Kelper.” Kelper nods with a warm smile.

He then introduces you and the others fanned out behind you, and she acknowledges you all with a tight line for a smile as the guns are lowered; your numb arms finally drop by your sides keenly.

“If what you say is true Kelper, then we are thankful for your arrival.” Maria concludes. “It’s rare to find people who want to help these days. We’ll send out some scouts to verify your information,” she addresses the bald man now and he turns on his horse and heads away behind her. Two others follow him back into the commune. “Whilst we assess the situation, we’ll get you settled in.” Maria adds to Kelper. “You’re right, I do know what it’s like to be out there.”

“Thank you,” Kelper praises earnestly.

“But don’t you or any of your people mistake my kindness for naivety. Whilst you're here, you’ll be under our careful watch until we can trust you.” She warned starkly. “You’ll need to earn your keep if you want to stay on.”

“Whatever you need from us, we’ll be happy to cooperate.” Kelper turns to you with a small, hopeful smile.

You smile at the men on the horses gratefully as they lower their guns, and then at Maria, whose face still remains sceptical, but softer with it.

“Welcome to Jackson,” she finishes.

You stay under the shower for an indeterminable amount of time.

Hot, running water has never felt so good on your aching bones. It feels so good that you let out a wondrous sob into the jet; welling up over something so trife as cleaning yourself.

Something that was previously taken for granted so much in another life.

Once dried off, you find a small basket left on your new bed. Clean clothes, some personal products such as a hairbrush, toothbrush with paste; some sanitary products and a small vial of oily perfume that looks like it’s handmade.

You pop out the cork and it smells of lavender and you smile in awe. It’s been a while since you remember what it feels like to smell clean and fragrant.

Your small group had been given rooms divided between two houses, side by side, in the commune. You were sharing with Sal, and the boys were tucked up in the house next door. Discreet guards were stationed across the street opposite, but you were free to mingle.

In fact Maria had encouraged it, and pointed out a bar along the way as she'd shown you all around.

The Tipsy Bison, it was called. You and Kelper couldn’t help but look at one another in mirth, astonished at such a thing and the commune’s sense of humour to boot.

“We brew our own beer here,” Maria had announced proudly.

You took note of the houses in various stages of being constructed; men and women working on the wooden beams and erecting frames further down the street as you were led towards them. The people here were industrious and keen to grow and expand, it seemed.

There were gardeners tending to an array of plentiful vegetables being grown, people who looked after the horses, and you passed small tables under canopies that were laden full of objects being sorted, like clothes, cans of food and other such items that you assumed they had scavenged en masse.

The house smelled fresh with a new paint aroma; it housed furniture and basic amenities that made it feel like a home. It had running water, electricity and even a TV. “There’s no live stations of course, but you can watch a DVD; there’s a vast collection in the library you can choose from.” Maria had explained.

“You have a library?” Kelper had asked, blinking excitedly.

“And a school and a cinema. We found a projector and it works pretty well.” She’d stated. “Town movie nights on Fridays at the bar. We have an infirmary too,” she had said regarding Guthrie's busted up arm, and he was fixed up, returning with his arm set in a cast a while later as if by some unknown magic.

Compared to what Kelper had so eagerly provided you, despite his aspirations it wasn’t much, but he provided warmth, safety and food. However this place was a stationed sanctuary. A place of some of the old normality in a world where it had all been stripped down to the bare bones to be picked at.

With the windows open now in the bedroom as you finished getting dressed, the scent of wild flowers wafts in. If you close your eyes this could feel like you were back home; the sounds of birds, children laughing and chatter ebbing in from outside. Like the world was still normal and not ravaged by monsters ready to tear you up.

You take a moment to absorb it all in, to let the worry and angst fall from your shoulders and it feels good to feel a little lighter, even if it’s fleeting.

As you pull on clean socks - clean socks! - There’s a faint rap at the bedroom door. Kelper’s on the other side, freshly groomed with a buzzcut and full shave, and you smile in wonderment at how different he looks after being hidden under a scraggly beard for so long. He’s lost about ten years and it’s a dramatic change.

“Look at you!” You exclaim in wonderment.

“Had a Charles Manson vibe about me, no wonder they wanted to shoot us.”

You chuckle. “That's a heck of a haircut. Going to have to get used to it.”

“Yeah, Maria did it. She did a pretty good job of it too,” he says, running his hand over his now much shorter hair. “We talked. She’s inherently formidable, but I trust her.”

“The others settled in?” You ask, smiling.

He nods, stepping forward as you beckon him in and shut the door. “I think so, they're nervous. But they’ll be fine. The town is wary of us though, she was right when she said they’d have eyes on us. Can’t take a piss without feeling it.”

“Yeah. I'd be wary too.” You surmise.

“I’ve agreed to meet with Maria and the council members in the morning when their scouts report back. I think I’ve come up with a solution that could work with the horde.” Kelper explains.

“Such as?” You ask, pulling on your boots and lacing them.

Kelper plonks his butt on the end of your bed. “I’ve been looking at some maps with Maria this afternoon whilst we brainstormed. There’s a canyon about twenty-five miles from here. If we can lead the infected up there, get them in somehow, we can blow it. Crush the fuckers.”

“You wanna blow up a canyon?” You baulk. “Kelper, you don’t do things by half. Shit."

He chortles back. “It’s the best shot. The risk is too high if we let them roam freely. They're too close.”

“It could work, I guess.” You were imagining it in your head. Big explosions and masses of infected blown to smithereens. You felt no pity for their impending doom, not after what they did to your people.

You shook away the thoughts of panic and the screams still ringing inside your ears.

“Just gotta hope they have the means to pull it off. Going to need some serious firepower.” Kelper states.

“They’re packing pretty heavily,” you say, peering through the windows out into the commune. Men were walking openly around with guns, some with military grade artillery. “I've seen a couple of sexy M-16's." You arch your brow and cock a smirk at him.

"Easy there," he smirks back "we know you like 'em big and powerful."

You chuckle. "They’re bound to have collected or scavenged a haul and God knows what else. Probably picked off the old FEDRA outposts like we did. No way they’d leave this place unprotected.”

“I wouldn’t.” Kelper agrees with you.

You turn back to him. “You didn’t.” You remind him.

He sighs, feeling the recent loss resurface too. “I tried my best.” He dips his head and clears non-existent gunk out from under his nails; a trait when he’s nervous or upset you’ve noticed. “There were too fucking many-”

“What we lost wasn’t your fault, okay? We start over, rebuild.” You confirm gently. “That's all we can do.”

"Endure and survive." He affirms.

"Exactly."

He smiles thinly at you. “I want you there tomorrow.” Kelper confirms. “Your input.”

“You sure?”

He scoffs. “You serious? You’re the Goose to my Maverick.”

You smile, nodding. “Always.”

“Wouldn’t have made it this far without you. None of us would have. They need to know you’re strong, an asset.” Kelper states.

“We all are,” you correct him. Although most days it doesn’t feel like it.

It pulls in your intestines to know that the five of you that survived, are the five of you that were indeed the strongest of your group, and probably the most broken for it now too.

You take a moment to remember the ones who aren’t here anymore. And it’s as stark as it is bleak. The screams, the blood... it's all too much to even fathom. A few days ago you were a unit, a stronghold. A community. Now you're all just tattered, frayed tendrils ripped to shreds.

You still can't understand why or how it happened. Fuck, it happened so quickly. A blink of an eye and it was just... gone.

They're all gone.

You can feel the encroaching tears start to make your eyes shine but you blink them away. There’s no time for that. Endure and survive.

“So, shall we go and sample this home brewed beer?” Kelper suggests, standing up.

“You read my fucking mind,” you state with a smile.

To be continued...

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Thank you for taking the time to read my story; it really means so much to me. I'd love to know your thoughts, and I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy this story too. Thank you so much 🖤

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lvlyghost · 6 months

Text

In the Midst of War: III

PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Shadow!Reader

SUMMARY: Home is no longer where it used to be. Left with no one else you wonder who your friends and foes are.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TW: blood, descriptions of wounds, an old friend shows up. feelings! attempted fluff. mind the english🐸!

A/N: this GIF is my new fixation and i will not stop posting it in a long time so be advised 🤩 things are hitting the fan next chapter💗as usual thx for reading 🍁🩵

Masterlist✨Masterpost

"𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔?"

Heavy boots, a ragged breathing caused by adrenaline and the sound of his heart thumping inside his ears, those are the things that Ghost can hear as he approaches the white van. Price shouts behind him but he can't make out what he's saying.

The blood... crimson blood that spills from her wounds is frightening. He's a man accustomed to witness horrible things. Seen the worst the world had to offer. Experienced in the flesh what evil can do to a human being. And simply because the woman that he holds in his arms is supposed to be his enemy that didn't mean he wanted to see her bleed out to death. Especially when they learned the truth.

Ghost had a moral code. Things he never wanted to see people go through despite being consequential to their own decisions. She had decided to join the army. She had decided to join the Shadow Company. It was bound to happen. Still it was hard for him.

That very moral code was to not hurt women nor children under any circumstances, and may God —if it even existed— help him when he'd have no other choice.

"Open the fucking door!" He yells, accent becoming more prominent; the door instantly sliding open, readjusting her near dead body in his arms to get them inside. "Gaz, give me everything you have." He commands the Sergeant, who's quick to open his medical pouches as well as the first aid kit they had loaded just in case someone needed it. The eyes of the woman flutter shut and then open slightly again, drifting back and forth between consciousness and the arms of the reaper. Ghost barks again at Gaz, so he helps him undoing the straps of her vest so he can check the wound properly.

"There's another one on her leg, Lt." he points out, moving around him as much as he can with the vehicle moving. With no time to waste he rips the lower part of his shirt, long and wide enough for his Sergeant to work. "Tourniquet , now." Gaz nods, at the harsh and cold commands of his superior. He then turns, lifting her shirt to inspect the wound. The bullet is still lodged inside her stomach, he notices sucking in a sharp breath; part of Ghost wonders who could've been the one who shot her? What if it was him? Taking the disinfectant from the kit he poured a generous amount on her wound. Her face scrunched, lips pouting and a low whine leaves her mouth. "Sorry about that, kid." He muttered, before pressing down on her wound every single gauze he found only to slowly start tainting red. He knew well she couldn't hear him her mind far away from where she physically was.

"We're back." one of the Vaqueros announced, as the van comes to an abrupt stop.

"We need to get her to the helo as soon as possible. She's lost too much blood." Price orders.

The three men get down, military doctors rush to them.

"We'll take it from here." One of them declares, patting Ghost on the shoulder, he nearly growls.

"Let's go. This isn't finished yet."

So Price dragged him in the opposite direction where they were taking her. He didn't know if she'll make it. But that was everything they'd do for her.

Stepping out of the room, showered and changed into comfortable sporting clothes you look around for Ghost. The safe house is silent. Deadly silent.

You wonder if he's even here, and you wonder if escaping would be a good idea. But as for now this was everything you had, at least a bed to sleep and a roof above your head. Sighing you walk to the kitchen just to find it as empty as the rest of the rooms.

The chilly air of late November causes your skin to erupt in goosebumps the moment you step outside, the backyard stretches farther away in the distance and as if on cue, the tall broad form of the Lieutenant appears walking through massive pines, wearing nothing but the jacket and his mask.

Ghost gradually stops when his eyes land on you standing still right outside the back door, arms crossed over your chest to protect you from the weather. He remains silent for a long minute before taking another

step closer.

"All set. Come with me." He orders you.

Biting on your lower lip, stopping your mouth from saying something you'll regret.

"Are you always this bossy?" Despite not liking his tone you oblige and begin to follow as he turns on his heels. If your question annoys him he doesn't let it show in fact he ignores you completely. "Where are we going, Ghost?"

Suddenly a wave of fear washes over you, steps faltering, hands shaking ever so slightly. What if this was it? The end of everything. You didn't want to believe Ghost could kill you like you were nothing you just don't do that to someone you've taken care of for the past month. Why bothering? Why tending to your wounds and worrying for your wellbeing, even if he was forced to do it. You wanted to believe that at least he didn't hate you. Not the way he hated your former Commander. You thought something had changed between the two. He had seemed more relaxed around you; like he somehow had lowered his defenses around you.

"Silence." he hushes you in a low mutter. "M'not gonna kill you if that's what you're worried about."

His words are cold and measured, as if he doesn't want to be here at all and the feeling, the knowledge that you're a burden to him makes your heart ache. A tiny pang of sadness that that's all you've ever been. All you could ever hope to be. So you ball your clench your hands, head hanging low when the so familiar lump in your throat becomes unbearable.

Both of you make it to a clearing, birds faintly chirping on the horizon. The sun no longer greets you, a storm announces itself with heavy clouds appearing in the sky above.

And then you're not alone. Another person stands in the middle. Hands clasped behind. Your heart skips a beat.

The only person that cares enough to save you. Blonde hair in a low tight bun.

Kate turns around, eyes going wide when she finally sees you. She's about to say something but words die because you're practically running to her, ignoring Ghost's warnings on being careful.

A smile appears on her face when you finally hug her and tears roll down your cheeks.

"What took you so long?" You sniffle. Kate's arms hold you tighter.

"I came as soon as I could. Forgive me, Vesper."

Shaking your head you try to stop the tears. It's honestly humiliating but she's known you since you joined the military. Kate Laswell was the closest thing you had to a family just like Graves. "I hope Lieutenant Riley has been good to you."

You huff, making her chuckle.

"He's taken care of me. For that I am grateful."

So now you knew more about him.

Riley.

Better than just a callsign. And it suited him.

Ghost stands a few feet away, despite this being a secure area he can't afford himself to relax. He can still hear everything you say to each other.

He can hear you crying on her shoulder and bloody hell if that didn't made him feel all sorts of distressed. It was a rare thing. Something he wouldn't have thought when he first scooped you up back on that forgotten highway.

But he guesses that happens when you spend too much time with someone you were supposed to look after. It didn't help that just last night you had asked him to stay the night in your room. All kinds of wrong.

Although he had refused he could sense what was happening and he needed to stop it. Getting attached wasn't part of the plan, and it would end terribly.

Deep in his thoughts he misses the look you send him.

"He really is something else." You murmur to Kate who keeps you know at arms length. "If it wasn't for you, I'm sure they'd have killed me." A sad smile appears on your lips.

"Let's not think about what happened darling, but rather what's gonna happen, yeah? Things have taken... a turn. No, hear me out." She says, interrupting you with a soft smile. "You're not alone. Never have been." Another quick glance at Ghost confirms the both of you that he's heard you.

"You know I don't like it when you say mysterious things, Kate." She sighs, giving you another hug although this one isn't as long as the first.

"Trust me. That's all I'm asking, and hey..." he levels you with a serious look. "Ghost may seem frightening but he's a good man." A low confession that doesn't reach his ears. Your cheeks turn red and you don't know why, leaving you mortified when she notices.

"Yeah..." you mumble.

"I don't have much more time. There's matters that require my attention but you'll hear from me again sooner than you think."

"What's that stance?" He gruffly asks as he stands next to you, eyes sliding up and down your body. His arms are tightly crossed over his broad chest. You turn to look up to him and away from the scope of your sniper rifle, blinking rapidly not understanding the disapproving look in his brown eyes.

"Uh, this is how I shoot Ghost." You answer like it was obvious what you were doing. You notice the way he furrow his brows beneath the balaclava.

"Bloody Christ." He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He comes behind you. "Widen your stance." He kicks one of your foot so it slides along the dirty soil.

Yelping you lose balance for a second before he steadies you with a strong hand to your waist.

"Hey! What was that about?"

Ghost tilts his head eyes narrowing.

"That stance was utter shite. Your legs were not separated enough, you'd get knocked down easily by a waft of air."

"I've been doing it like this forever."

"Well you've been doing it wrong."

"But that's..." squinting your eyes you stare at him, fuming. "My legs are not as long as yours, they're like five damn kilometers long." Ghost snorts. "What's so funny?"

"Shocked you know what a kilometer is." Shaking your head you decide to ignore him and readjust the grip on the rifle. "One of his best soldiers, I heard." He points out. He returns to his spot next to you, trying not to think of how you felt under his touch.

"You've never seen someone like me, Lieutenant Riley."

Ghost freezes, heart skipping a beat at the way you say his name. It's soft and endearing. He watches you closely, you're focused on the target one eye closed and the other fixed on the green bottle.

Breathing slowly and steadily, the exact moment when the sky rumbles you press the trigger. The bullet sound echoes through the lone forest as it hits the target, sending birds flying away from their nests. A wide grin makes its way to your lips, turning to look a Ghost who remains silent merely watching the near-perfect shot, the average size bottle shattered in a thousands pieces.

"Bullseye." you comment in a casual tone. "Your turn."

Offering him the rifle you stare at each other for a long time before he shakes his head, refusing to take it.

"Mine's better." Unfazed by his refusal you wait as he goes to the black duffel bag that he previously placed on an old wooden table. He takes out his preferred weapon. Your was... lethal, but his own, the sheer size and way it was customized for him left you speechless. You even doubted you'd be able to hold it still. "And just so you know." coming back to where he was, Ghost readies himself but not before taking off his leather jacket. Only left with his black hoodie he offers you the jacket, eyes serious. Hesitating for a second before grabbing it and putting it on, it smells like him. It's soft and warm around your body. "We're going out tomorrow."

His body prepares to take the recoil of the gun. Yet another perfect shot is made that day; body barely moving, barely flinching when he fires. You hold your breath at the sound of shattering glass and then everything goes silent. Ghost turns to look you in the face, the way his clothes hang around your body swallowing you whole. A sight he finds himself liking too much for his own bloody good.

"Taking me out on a date I see." His lips twitch although you can't see it. "Where to?" You ask rolling your eyes.

Laying down the weapon he motions you to follow him back inside, he'd clean up afterwards.

"Your first mission. Laswell wants you back asap." The air gets stuck in your throat. "Don't look at me like that. We could use a good soldier. And don't worry too much. I'm coming with."

Teaming up with Ghost was the last thing you thought would happen in your lifetime, even if you had before needlessly to say not directly. For all you knew, they considered you a hostile for your connections with the Shadow Company. But your commander was off the equation. Gone forever.

With a final glance to your way he starts to cook dinner for two so you join him.

Your new life starts now.

"When does this end, Laswell?" He asks her, it's not that he doesn't want to be around the girl. That is exactly why he's desperate to put an end to this, enjoying her company wasn't a part of the plan.

She breathes the cool air, and tries to calm him.

"Don't tell me you've grown to care about her, Lieutenant."

Ghost doesn't answer but the CIA agent notices the way his shoulders tense.

Part 4

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