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omgkatherine01 · 1 year

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Electrical: Chapter 13 - Clefairy and the Moon Stone

Ash, Misty, Brock and I were resting before heading off again. I was looking at the map to see we were close to a mountain called 'Mt. Moon'. "Huh," I hummed. "What is it, Emma?" Misty asked.

"Well, in the map it says we sitting close by a mountain called 'Mt. Moon'. Where have I heard about it?" I asked, looking at my Pikachu. "Pika," My yellow friend said. "I've heard about it too," Ash said. "Mt. Moon. It sounds so romantic," Misty said.

Brock chuckled, "Now I remember where I heard about it too. People say that a huge meteor crashed into the mountain back in prehistoric times."

"A meteor?" Ash asked. "Is it really true?" Misty asked. "The meteor is call the Moon Stone," Brock said.

"Now that's romantic," Misty said. I smiled and shook my head. "Can we go there?" She asked. "W--no way, we have to go to the next town," Ash said. "Aw, come on Ash. The Gym isn't gonna go anywhere, it will be there when we get there. Why not go and see this?" I asked.

Misty wrapped her arm around my shoulder, "Exactly. Now, let's go!" She pulled me up with her. "Oh, come on," Ash whined.

...................

We all hiking towards Mt. Moon. "Whoa, look at it," Misty said, pointing at the mountain. We all stopping walking when we heard a scream. "Look, over there," Ash said before we all ran toward the base of Mt. Moon to see a man being attacked by a group of Zubat.

"Zubat," I said. "They attacking that guy," Misty said as Ash pulled out his Dexter.

Zubat, blind Pokémon with supersonic powers. Zubat live in caves and hate to fly outside in daylight.

Ash looked at the Zubat, "Not those Zubat," he said. "No time for jokes," I pointed out. "Pikachu, Thunder Shock." My Pikachu jumped off my head, attacking the group of Zubat with Thunder Shock. The Zubat all flew inside the cave and we all ran toward the guy. "Are you okay?" Ash asked.

The guy stood up, smiling, "Wow, you guys are the greatest!" He placed his hands on my shoulders, "I'm talking super-fantabulistic! I mean two thumbs up, way up, the best rescue I've ever had!"

"Uh, you're welcome," I said. "I'm so moooved, such friendship I thought I'd never see... when the Zubat began attacking me!" the guy said, "I thought I was done for when who should arrive? Two heroes thanks to whom I'm alive!"

"He certainly doesn't look like the poetic type," Misty noted. "Did I mention how grateful I am?" the guy asked me, clutching my wrists in his hands. "Uh..." I trailed off. Thankfully, Ash cut in, "Why were the Zubat attacking you, mister?"

"Huhhh," the guy gasped and looked at Ash angrily, "Never call me mister! My name's Seymour... Seymour the Scientist! Knowledge, research, I'm Seymour the Scientist!"

Me and my friends looked at Seymour in surprise and confusion, exchanging a look.

Seymour lead us inside the cave to show us there were number of lights hooked up deep into the cave, lighting it all up. Apparently this wasn't a good thing, as all the lights set up in the normally pitch-black cave is throwing off all the Pokémon's natural senses, timing and rhythm.

"Look here, these Paras planting their mushrooms everywhere," Seymour said. "And the hot lights are drying up these Sandshrew."

Paras were pulling the mushrooms off of their backs and planting them in the ground far too early and the Sandshrew was splayed out on the floor

"Pika," Ash's Pikachu said sadly. My Pikachu nodded, "Pikachu."

"This is why I'm here," Seymour said, "I'm patrolled to protect Mt. Moon from troublemakers attacking against this cave."

"Troublemakers? Why attack a cave?" Misty asked. "I'm afraid it's because of the Moon Stone," Seymour answered. "The Moon Stone?" Ash repeated.

"Exactly," Seymour said, then rhyme horribly with hand clutched to his chest, "The Moon Stone is an awesome boulder, a million years old or even older! Deep in these caves the meteor hides! Though no explorer has found the place, of the legendary rock from space." He hold up a piece of rock, examining it, "We've studied it's fragments for many an hour, and discovered it increases a Pokémon's power. And that is why the attackers are here, they've come to take the Moonstone, or so I fear!"

"The Moon Stone?" Ash repeated. "Ever since I was a little boy, I've believe Pokémon came to Earth from Outer Space," Seymour said. "From Outer Space?" Me and my friends repeated. Seymour nodded, "Yes. And where, you asking, is the spacecraft that brought them to Earth? In this cave. It's the Moon Stone."

Misty gave a small chuckle, "It's sure is an original theory." I sighed, "Very original."

"But don't you see?" Seymour asked excitedly, "It's means the Moon Stone belongs to the Pokémon. We, humans must not take it from them." Suddenly he fixed his horrific gaze on me, which made me back away. Seymour leaped up to me and grabbed me by the hands, bending low, "You agree with me, don't you?"

I nodded nervously, "Yeah." Luckily for me, a rotund, pink Pokémon bounced happily past us, holding a small piece of shiny rock in its chubby little paws. "Clefairy! Clefairy!" it sang happily as it almost seems to float through the air.

"That looks like... a Clefairy," Brock said. Misty smiled, "It's so cute," She said and Ash pulled out his Dexter.

Clefairy, this impish Pokémon, is friendly and peaceful, it is believed to live inside, Mount Moon, although very few have ever been seen, by humans.

Ash pulled out his Poké ball in excitement, "I gotta catch it." Seymour grabbed Ash's arm, "You can't." Clefairy happily bounced away out of sight. Ash looked to where it was sadly before looking at Seymour. "Sorry, but it's best if you just let it stay here. I hope you understand."

Ash looked at him for a moment before glancing over at me. I nodded and he looked back at Seymour with a small smile and nodded, "Sure, Seymour. I understand."

"Clefairy," We all heard Clefairy's cry and quickly rushed to where the Clefairy had headed. "Don't be scared of Meowth," We heard a voice. We ran closer to see Clefairy and Meowth from Team Rocket.

"Meowth?" I asked. Meowth looked at me and my friends, "What are you doing here?" Ash looked at him angrily, "Looking for troublemakers like you."

Both mine and Ash's Pikachu ran to Clefairy and calmed it down. "So, Team Rocket was causing all the trouble around here," Ash said before adding sarcastically, "What a surprise."

"We've got to stop them before they start any more trouble," Brock said.

"Trouble?"

"Make that double."

We saw Jessie and James walking to stand at either side of Meowth. "Oh come on," I muttered.

"To protect the world from devastation."

"To unite all peoples within our nation."

"To denounce the evils of truth and love."

"To extend our reach to the stars above."

"Jessie."

"James."

"Team Rocket blast off at the speed of light."

"Surrender now or prepare to fight."

"Meowth, that's right!"

"They sure are show-offs," Seymour said. "Don't you guys ever get tired of saying the same things over and over?" Ash asked. "You're just jealous, boy," Jessie said. "Because we won't let you join us," James added. "I would never join up with you!" Ash yelled. "You put the lights in this cave," Brock realized. "It's your fault the Pokémon who live here are so confused!"

"What a shame," Jessie said, clearly not care less. "How are we ever going to forgive ourselves," James said, not caring either. "We want to get our hands on a Moon Stone, so we can power up our Pokémon with it," Meowth said. "With the Moon Stone in our hands, nothing will stop us," Jessie said.

"Sorry to pull your out of you dream land, but we won't let you get away with it," I said. "You want a rock? Take one of these, then get lost," Brock told them. "Get lost?" Jessie repeated, "How rude."

"Let's teach him manners," James said. Ash and Brock pulled out their Poké balls before Ash looked at me and Misty, "You two keep on eye on Seymour and Clefairy. Get out when you get the chance."

"Got it," I said. Jessie and James pulled out their Poké balls and threw them, "Ready or not."

"Butterfree, I choose you," Ash said, throwing his Poké ball. "Here we go!" Bock said as he threw his Poké ball. Ekans and Koffing against Butterfree and surprisingly, a Zubat.

"A Zubat?" Ash asked. "I captured it just before we entered the cave," Brock explained. "Awww, I should have caught one," Ash said, sighing. "Koffing, Smog Attack," James called.

Koffing swooped across, trailing smog behind it, proclaiming happily, "Koffing!"

"Butterfree, Whirlwind now!" Ash called. "Zubat, Whirlwind too, now!" Brock called. Both of the flying Pokémon used Whirlwind to push the smog back into Jessie and James' faces. Ash and Brock smiled. "Not bad," Ash grinned.

Misty and I exchanged a look, nodding. Misty pushed Seymour toward the exit, "Quick." I quickly followed with my Pikachu and Clefairy, "Let's go."

Clefairy and Pikachu were head of me, Misty and Seymour as we ran toward the exit. "Pikachu, pi!" My Pikachu called as Clefairy bounced out of Mount Moon and was happily making it's way out into the daylight.

"Oh no, Clefairy is running away!" Misty called as the three of us pulled ourselves out of the same hole. Clefairy bounced over a hill, clutching a piece of the Moon Stone in its paws. "Pikachu, after it," I called.

"Pika!" My Pikachu said and quickly ran after it up in the hill. Misty, Seymour and I struggled up the rock-face after Clefairy, but then a scared Clefairy jumped down, hitting right into Misty's face, knocking the three of us off of the rock-face and down into the river. I shook my head as I sighed. Pikachu landed on my head, "Pika?"

"All right, give me the Moon Stone," Meowth said, standing at a nearby rock, showing off his claws. "Now, Meowth, I'm sure we can be reasonable about this," Seymour said, desperately. Meowth leaped high with the claws out, "No, we can't!"

"Pikachu!" I said. My Pikachu jumped off from the top of my head and hit Meowth with her tail, sending the cat Pokémon into the water. I stood up, "How stupid are you?"

"Pika!" My Pikachu agreed, standing at the same rock Meowth stood a few moment ago. "My turn," Misty said, throwing a Poké ball into the water before a Staryu emerged, floating in the air. I threw my Poké ball, "Poliwhirl!"

Poliwhirl came out of the Poké ball, "Poliwhirl!" Misty and I nodded to each other, looking at our water Pokémon, pointing at Meowth.

"Poliwhirl!"

"Staryu!"

"Water Gun!!"

Both Poliwhirl and Staryu used together Water Gun, making Meowth's body swell up with water until he looked like some kind of giant Meowth Balloon, and then was sent flying backwards when the water burst back out of his mouth.

"Bye Meowth, have a nice trip," Misty called as she waved. I looked at Poliwhirl and Staryu as Pikachu hopped on my shoulder, "Good job you guys."

Misty and I sent our water Pokémon back into their Poké balls, and then high five each other.

Ash, his Pikachu and Brock ran toward us. "Hey, you guys okay?" Ash asked. "Of course, we are," I said with a smirk. "Emma and I took care of everything," Misty said proudly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

...................

Later that day, as the sun begins to set, Seymour, me and my friends have set up a little camp beside the river and feed our Pokémon. I noticed Brock was feeding a different Pokémon food to Zubat, "Hey, Brock, I just noticed something."

"What is it?" Brock asked. "That Pokémon food you giving Zubat is a different one," I pointed out. Brock smiled, "Yeah, it is. This one is mead from my own recipe." I smiled, "Do you put in some fruits?"

"I sure do. Do you know how to make Pokémon food?" Brock asked. I nodded, "Yep, my Mom taught me everything about it. I make some for my Pokémon. Can my Pikachu try one of yours?"

"Sure, why not," Brock said as he handed me a few of his Pokémon Pellet. I handed one for my Pikachu, "Here, Pikachu." Pikachu smiled as she took it, "Pika." She started to eat it as Ash's Butterfree landed on the top of my head. Ash chuckled, "Looks like Butterfree wants to try some too."

I hold a Pokémon Pellet up toward Butterfree and it took it. "I will try some," Seymour said, taking one Pokémon Pellet. "Wait," I said but he eat it. "Mmm. Not bad," He said. "Really?" Ash asked. "Let me taste."

He took a Pokémon Pellet and I stared in shock. "Ash, wait, don't--" I was cut off when he eat it and right after that he went into stroke-like convulsions. Brock chuckled, "Well you don't like it, but the Pokémon sure do."

"You should listen to me before doing something," I told Ash, sighing as I shook my head. "Pika," My Pikachu said. I handed a bottle of water to Ash and he quickly drank it as I looked at Brock, "Hey, Brock, can you teach me your Pokémon food recipe?"

"Sure," Brock said as he handed a Pokémon Pellet to my Pikachu. "Pikachu," Pikachu said with a smile as she took it.

My Pikachu looked up and we all followed her gaze to see Ash's Pikachu and Clefairy were having a conversation. "Pikachu makes friends so easily, I wonder what they talking about," Ash said with a smile. His Pikachu looked at him, "Pika-Pi."

Clefairy jumped up and bounced off. "What's up, Pikachu?" Ash asked. His Pikachu quickly followed Clefairy and my Pikachu quickly followed. "Pikachu, Pi," She called us.

...................

The sun had already set and it was dark. Seymour, Ash, Brock, Misty and I were following both mine and Ash's Pikachu as they followed Clefairy, which is still gripping the Moon Stone Fragment in its paws. We traveled up a little used path, through shrubbery and bushes until we come to yet another cave. "It's another cave," I pointed out.

We all walked inside and found ourselves in a circular cave with no roof, letting the moon shine down on a large glittering rock surrounded by an almost unbroken ring of Moon Stone Fragments.

"It's the core of the Moon Stone," Seymour said. "This feels like a dream," Misty said. "So the Moon Stone legend is true," Brock said. "Look, Clefairy doing something," Ash said. We watched as Clefairy took the Moon Stone Fragment up to the large rock and fit it into place in the one remaining gap.

Almost instantly the fragments begin to glow, then the whole rock itself as more and more Clefairy enter the cave. "There so many of them," Misty pointed out. A Clefairy looked at us and stepped closer, "Clefairy, fairy, Clefairy."

Ash chuckled, "I think it's saying 'Hello'." Brock smiled, "Yeah." Misty smiled, "Look at them." All of the Clefairy begin to dance and lightly bounced around the rock.

"Amazing, this Clefairy formed their own society. This is incredible sight," Seymour said. I looked at both mine and Ash's Pikachu were talking with the same Clefairy so I walked toward them. I kneeled in front of them, "Hey, what are you three on about huh?"

My Pikachu and Ash's smiled up at me. "Pika," My Pikachu said as the others walked closer. "Pika, Pikachu, Pi."

"You understand her?" Seymour asked me in shock. "Sometimes," I said and smirked at my yellow best friend, "When she talks slower."

"Pika?" My Pikachu asked before putting her paw behind her head with a small smile, "Pika."

"Pikachu," Ash's Pikachu told me. "Pika, Pi, Pikachu, Pika." He hold up his paws. "Pikachu," My Pikachu said, "Pika, Pi, Pika."

"Well, they say the Clefairy come to this cave every night to pray to the Moon Stone," I explained. My Pikachu and Ash's smiled, "Pika!"

"Is it because the Moon Stone fell from the heavens?" Seymour asked as I got up. "Maybe the legends are true," Misty said. "Maybe the Moon Stone did came from Space," I said. "Yeah," Ash said. "Oooooof course!" Seymour said, "It all makes sense now."

"What does?" Ash asked. "Outer space!" Seymour said, "Pokémon, and the Human Race! We'll ride the Moon Stone into space, first to the Moon, then to Mars, then together, to the stars!"

"Stars?" an annoying familiar voice asked. "That's our cue!" We all looked behind us to see Team Rocket at the entrance to the cave. "You guys just don't know when to quit, huh," I said as Misty stuck out her tongue toward them.

Seymour stepped in front of us, glaring at Team Rocket, "You keep away from the Moon Stone or else!"

"Or else?" James asked. "I think we've been threatened," Jessie said. Seymour's shaking knees kind of indicate how seriously this threat should be taken though, "The Moon Stone belongs to the Clefiary, not to you troublemakers, l--leave this cave at once."

"What's that unusual sound?" James asked. "His knees are shaking," Jessie teased. "Sounds like a wimp," Meowth said. Seymour ran toward them, "I'll show you!"

"Seymour, wait!" I said. Seymour ran toward Team Rocket but fell when Meowth stepped aside and tripping Seymour up. "Ha! Did you have a nice trip?" Meowth asked. I looked at them angrily while Seymour sat up on the ground without his glasses, "My glasses. I can't see a thing."

"Oh, Seymour," Misty said. Ash looked at Team Rocket angrily, "That wasn't fair!"

Jessie held out her Poké ball, "All's fair in a Pokémon match, boy." James held up his Poké ball, "Enough talk."

"I agree, let's go Pikachu," Ash said. His Pikachu ran forward, "Pika!" Brock threw his Poké ball, "Onix, let's go!"

Pikachu stood on Onix's head as they both looked down at Ekans and Koffing. "Let's show them size doesn't matter!" Jessie said, "Ekans, underground!"

"Koffing, Smoke-Screen!" James said. Ekans did as Jessie told it as Koffing joyfully spit out a Smoke-Screen to cover its partners movements. I coughed, "I can't see a thing."

Ash was standing beside me with my Pikachu on the top of his head, throwing a Poké ball, "Pidgeotto, I choose you!" Pidgeotto came out. "Pidgeotto, Whirlwind the smock!"

Pidgeotto started to use its wings, clearing quickly the smock away, but when the smock was gone, the Moon Stone was gone! Team Rocket stole it! "Team Rocket!" I said angrily.

"All right, Onix follow them underground," Brock said. Onix dug quickly another hole and disappeared in it. Both mine and Ash's Pikachu, Pidgeotto, Ash, Misty, Brock and I quickly ran out. "There is still a chance to catch them," Ash said.

We quickly found Team Rocket as Onix bursting out of the ground in front of Team Rocket and sending them tumbling over, crashing over the Moon Stone and the ground. "Got them!" Ash said.

"Nice work, Onix, grab them now," Brock said. Just when Onix was going to do so, James called to his Pokémon, "Koffing, Counter Attack." Koffing happily flew up into the air, "Koffing!"

Koffing smashed into Onix's face, promptly slamming back down into the ground and gets buried halfway down. Onix smashed into the ground as well. "Onix," Brock said. "Hey, look," Ash said and we saw Seymour emerged out of Onix's hole.

"It's Seymour," Misty said. Surprisingly, all the Clefairy were with him. They leaped out of the hole and swarm up in front of Team Rocket, lifting their little paws up and rocking them back and forth in a rhythmic, hypnotic beat that soon had all of our attention fixed. "I'm... Getting... Dizzy," Misty said.

"This an attack that Clefairy use call the Metronome," Seymour said. "I never seen a Clefairy use the Metronome before who knows what happen." Right them, the Clefairy stopped, "Clefairy." Then, a bright white glow appeared and then a huge explosion of lava teared up out of the ground below Team Rocket.

We saw Team Rocket flying high into the air and they disappeared into the distance. The smoke cleared and we all stared at the massive crater where the Moon Stone used to be. Small shards of the Moon Stone drifted down like snow, settling on a few of the Clefairy, causing them to glow brightly and then grow and change appearance.

I smiled, "They involved into Clefable," I said as Ash pulled out his Dexter.

Clefable, an advanced form of Clefairy, these unique creatures are among, the rarest Pokémon, in the world.

Seymour looked amazed, "The power of the Moon Stone did this." We all were back inside the cave with the Clefairy and the Clefable. Seymour looked at me and my friends, "I've decided to live here with the Clefairy."

"Huh?" We all were shocked by that. "It's been my life's dream to find the Moon Stone," Seymour said, "Someday I will travel to the stars with the Clefairy."

"Wow," Misty breathed out. "When you do visit Outer Space, I hope you'll remember to send us a postcard," Brock said. "Pikachu," Ash's Pikachu said. "Pika," My Pikachu said.

It was early in the morning when me and my friends finally left Seymour and the Clefairy and the Clefable. "Bye," I said. "So long, Seymour," Ash said. "Goodbye, guys, thank you," Seymour told us.

We slowly started to walk away. Ash looked at me, "Do you really think that the Clefairy came to Earth from Outer Space?" I shrugged with a smile, "Maybe. It's fun to imagine it."

...................

After been walking for a few hours, we came to a road. I stretched out my arms and sighed. We saw a sign on one side, "This road leads to Cerulean City," Brock read. "Well, I guess we're heading the right way. And there is something else is written here."

"Well, they say some kids like to write some silly notes on this signs," Ash said. "What's it say?" I asked. Ash looked at the smaller writing, "Gary was here, Ash is a loser!" My Pikachu and I exchanged a confused look.

"Oh that Gary!" Ash growled. "I'll show you!" The boy ran down the road with his arms stretched wide like an airplane. "Wait, Ash!" I called but he kept running. His Pikachu hopped on my left shoulder while my Pikachu was sitting on my right shoulder.

"What's the hurry?" Misty asked. "He'll never learn," Brock mattered. I shook my head, "Nope." My Pikachu shook her head. "Cha," Ash's Pikachu said, sighing.

Next: - Chapter 14

#pokemon #ash ketchum x oc #ash ketchum x reader #ash ketchum

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crystalwolfblog · 3 years

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I Can’t Sleep Without You || Ivar x reader || Modern

This is my fic created for @ofmanderley’s writing challenge. My prompt was: It's 4:03 and I can't sleep without you next to me.

First of all I need to apologize because I am SUPER late with my work but life was kinda crazy and writing block wasn’t kind!

Hope you will like it!

Being with Ivar Ragnarsson wasn't an easy task to perform. He was a man of a short temper; he could be cruel and mean but thankfully for him you were out of the reach of his anger. Ivar always did his best to keep his raging nerves away from you. For him, you were his little treasure, a lovely woman who was patient enough to even try to form any kind of relationship with him.

You got used to this life and no matter what everyone said, you stayed by his side.

Of course you didn't do this because Ivar forced you or blackmailed you. The love towards this man was simply too strong within you.

After two years of being together you learned that behind that huge, thick wall he built around himself was a suffering, lonely man that craved to be loved.

____________________________

There was one thing you loved to do right after work - paying a visit in the local cafe. It was a quiet, little, cozy place. You sat at your favourite table and placed your usual order - a cup of coffee and a piece of pie.

Last thing you expected that day was to see a familiar face.

"Y/N, I didn't expect to see you here," Bjørn smiled, sitting in the chair right in front of you.

"Hi, Bjørn," you greeted him, returning the smile. "How are you doing?"

Eldest Ragnarsson nodded. "Oh, I am doing just fine. Since I have a break at work, I decided to get myself a coffee and something sweet."

____________________________

"So, when do you have this big game of yours?," Ubbe asked, looking into his phone.

"Seriously? I am going on and on about it for weeks now. It's this weekend, Saturday to be exact," Hvitserk rolled his eyes; he grew annoyed by repeating himself on and on.

"Forgive him. I guess the family takes a lot out of our dear brother," Ivar chuckled.

All three of them walked down the street.

It was the first time in months when they could just meet and go out. Even if they didn't plan anything crazy, it still was nice to get reunited.

"I at least have a family, Ivar. You and Y/N could think about it as well," Ubbe shrugged, placing the phone back in his pocket. "Mother is still talking about it."

"Mother will talk. We both feel comfortable with how things are for now. I am not pushing her and she is not pushing me, to anything. We just live the best of our lives and we both are happy about that," Ivar answered, nodding.

"I mean, that's sound fair," Hvitserk commented.

Boys quickly changed the subject to something far way interesting to talk about. They walked lively as they talked about some stuff.

The nice atmosphere lasted until Hvitserk stopped in front of a little cafe. Through the cafe's big window he spotted a familiar person, actually two to be exact.

You were sitting there, talking with Bjørn and giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Yo, Ivar? Isn't it Y/N?”

Ubbe and Ivar looked over their shoulders, and then joined Hvitserk.

Ivar frowned as soon as he spotted you.

Of course you going out wasn't a problem for him, you were a free woman after all but meeting with Bjørn? Out of all the people?! Fucking Bjørn. What else?! Maybe you were doing it regularly behind his back?

"I am going back home. Whatever idea you two had, go without me, I’m passing," crippled, young man muttered, tightening the grip on his crutch.

There was no reason to argue with Ivar at that point. They could see that he was pissed and arguing with angry Ivar was like teasing a bull with a red cape, it was the last thing they really needed that day or ever.

Ubbe and Hvitserk just shook their heads and then slowly walked away.

____________________________

You had no idea how long you sat there but you couldn't help it. Talking with Bjørn was really captivating. While listening to one of his stories you looked at your watch. "Oh, my! Bjørn, I am so sorry but I should go. I still have plans."

Bjørn looked at you and nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure. It was really nice to see you."

"Same! We need to meet up one day. Bye!," You quickly paid and left the cafe.

____________________________

The walk home was calm, you even texted Ivar that you are on the way back but for some reason he didn't respond. Maybe this should be a red flag but you shrugged it off, he probably was still with his brothers.

You didn't expect to see him in the flat. He was sitting on the couch, tapping his fingers angrily. It was more than obvious that he was mad.

"Love? Did something happen?," You asked, taking your jacket off.

"I don't know. You tell me, love."

Walking into the living room you looked at him with confusion written on your face. At this point you had no idea what he meant.

"What? You gonna stand there and make a fool out of me? You thought I won't find you? I wonder how long you go behind my back!,” Ivar growled, getting up from the couch.

Then it suddenly hit you. Did he see you in the cafe? After all he was out with Hvitserk and Ubbe, so there was a slight chance he did.

"Ivar. It's not like that. I was in a cafe and Bjørn just happened to be there as well."

"He? Happened to be there?," Ivar chuckled darkly. "You are blind, stupid or both!"

His behaviour was getting out of hand but his accusations were too much for you to handle.

"Excuse me? Watch your words, Ivar."

"Me?! Watch my words?! These are words of truth! He was following you those fucking eyes ever since I brought you home for the first time. Ever since that day he accidentally happened to be in places that you are!," Ivar growled, shaking his head. "Of course you had to fall for this. What's next?! Are you gonna fuck him? Or Maybe Hvitserk?”

You went silent. How could he even have thought about something like that? He was hard to live with but you would never cheat on him, no matter how moody or annoying he was. His words cut you deeply.

The lack of response meant as much as a yes for him.

"Fuck it. I am leaving, no idea when I will be back," Ivar muttered and walked to a hanger to grab his jacket before leaving.

The door slammed loudly that you literally jumped in the place.

____________________________

House without Ivar seemed empty.

Maybe it was stupind to miss him after this argument but you couldn't help it. You really loved that man, no matter how moody he was. Even if it was hard to love him, you knew that he was different deep inside.

Laying in bed alone was odd, without his body next to yours. He always was there, mostly complaining about his legs or just talking about his day and how annoying his brothers were.

Sighing, you took his pillow and hugged it tightly, you wanted him back but he needed time to cool down. Looking at the clock helped you realize how sleepless your night was. It was almost morning.

____________________________

Ivar also couldn't sleep. He just lied in bed, smoking and looking into the ceiling. Aslaug would prabobly murder him for smoking inside the house but he didn't care, it's not like she would kick her crippled son out of the house.

Puffing out the smoke he watched it disappearing in the air.

He already missed you, so fucking much. Ivar looked at the bedside table and grabbed his phone to check the time.

____________________________

Trying to get some sleep, you laid on the bed, with eyes closed and Ivar's pillow under your head.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed.

You sat up and grabbed it; maybe it was Hvitserk? Or Ubbe? Maybe Aslaug? Maybe something happened to Ivar? You simply had to know.

To your own surprise, it was text from Ivar himself.

Ivar ❤️😈: It's 4:03 and I can't sleep without you next to me.

Chuckling, you felt the wave of relief washing over you. He was alive.

You: I can say the same. Where are you?

Ivar ❤️😈: I am at my parent's house.

You: I am happy that you are safe.

Meantime Ivar blonked looking at the screen. You were happy he was safe? You were worried about him.

Ivar ❤️😈: Were you worried?

You: Of course I was, dummy. I am always worried. Listen, I just want you to know that I don't care about Bjørn. All I care about is you, Ivar. Always and forever.

He looked at the text. You didn't have a reason to hurt him in any way, you always were patient with him. Even when he was a total asshole. No matter if the day was regular or filled with pain, you just were there for him.

Maybe the fear of losing you just clouded his judgement? Bjørn wasn't like him, he was a strong and healthy man when he was just a cripple. Who the hell would pick a cripple over a healthy man?!

He was jealous and scared but it was time to fix it.

____________________________

You waited at the message but nothing came. Maybe he just fell asleep or didn't care about your empty (for him at least) arguments. After giving him fifteen minutes, you send another text to make sure he is okay, and surprisingly you heard the sound of the SMS notification in the flat.

Ivar opened the door to your shared bedroom and rested his weight on the crutch, looking at you. Without any word he walked to the bed and sat down. He removed his braces, clothes, and soon you were wrapped in a tight hug.

"I am sorry," Ivar whispered.

You nuzzled to him. "It's fine."

"It's not, Y/N. I hurt you... All because of my insecurities. I was furious, he is Bjørn, big, strong, healthy. I am none of that, and you are beautiful, special. You deserve better,``he muttered, nuzzling to you.

While listening to him, you undone his bun and moved your hand through his hair. "Silly! I love you. I love you so much, no matter what. You are hard to deal with sometimes, that’s true but I still love you."

"You are too good to me, you know that?”

Giggling, you gently pulled on his hair, earning a soft growl from him. "You should be grateful and not point it out," you kissed his forehead. "We should get some sleep."

Ivar nodded, hugging you tightly. "Yeah, you are right."

Soon, both of you fell asleep, embracing each other tightly.

____________________________

#ofmanderley300 #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x hvitserk #hvitserk #ubbe #bjorn ironside #ivar the boneless fluff #writing challenge #ivar the boneless oneshot #ivar the boneless one shot #ivar the boneless fic

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midnightmochi · 4 years

Note

Can you write about jumin having an argument with mc and the arguments didn't end well. They went to work with bitterness. So mc work as a medical emergency team response and was sent to help the victims of a collapsed building. During the evacuation, mc was caught in the collapsed. She was badly injured but not life threatening. Jumin being busy he is doesn't know this until it was showed on the . If it's not to your liking you can ignore it.

Words that Shouldn’t Have Been Said

Parings: Jumin Han x MC/Reader

Genre: Angst w/ Good Ending

Warnings: Language, Hospitals, Crying

Word Count: 1,301 words

Notes: Hey! Thank you both for requesting this, it’s been in my box for a while since I went onto hiatus for so long. I hope you like this!

“Why are you so stubborn? Is it something I had done?” MC angrily exclaimed as her face flushed red from anger.

“How many times do I have to repeat myself? It’s not. Stop asking me over and over again.” Jumin responded bluntly with hints of irritation in his voice.

MC frustratingly sighed as they were putting on their work uniform hastily. Jumin and MC have been arguing all night. Every corner and bit of atmosphere of Jumin’s penthouse were echoed with words and voices filled with wrath. Jumin has been very distant and cold recently, it’s gotten to a point where it’s upsetted MC, causing them to bring the issue up.

“It’s not just nothing, you’ve been acting like a stranger around me for the past fucking week. You haven’t even been talk to me that much and all you have been doing is engrossing yourself in your piles of work and bottles and bottles of wine.” MC screamed as they were putting on their watch while looking at the time as they gathered the last few items while walking towards the door, ready to leave. MC was a first respondant and they were off-duty when they received an emergency page.

MC hit a nerve within Jumin with their language and tone. Suddenly, Jumin’s usual calm composure was now overcame with anger as he uncontrollably spat out, “Perhaps, stop pushing your unpleasant curiousity into business that is not yours and refrain from being so sensitive.”

The moment those words left Jumin’s lips, MC halted their steps, facing the door with their back turned to him. Jumin’s insensitive words jabbed at MC, they bit their lips refusing to cry as tears started filling their eyes. Tense silence hung in the air for what seemed forever.

Jumin’s eyes widened as he covered his mouth realising what he has just said. “MC… I-”

MC lowered their head down as they stared at the floor, as they finally spoke wlth a trembling voice, “Han Jumin. As engrossed as you are in things that arent related with me, I’d still wish for you to remember that I am your wife/husband and you are my husband. I am worried and upset because my husband isn’t acting like Han Jumin. I’m annoying you and getting in your business because I give a shit about you, about us. So please, even when you don’t consider me the same way, keep that in your mind.” MC sniffled, wiped their tears and opened the door to leave and slammed it shut behind them.

“MC, WAIT, COME BACK!” he shouted as he listened to the sound of MC’s footsteps fading away, knowing he can’t stop them with people’s on the line requiring their aid. Jumin knocked all the papers on his large worktable onto the floor in anger, scaring Elizabeth the 3rd that was sitting on the side. Jumin buried his face in his hands in regret. He took out his cellphone to call them, only for it to go directly to their voicemail. He dropped the phone on his table and grunted in annoyance.

Then there was a knock on the door, Jumin rose his head hoping to see MC, but was greeted with the serious face of his security officer. His security spoke, “the Gala building at downtown is collapsing sir, people are requesting our resources down to help.”“We shall send our helicopters then, and try to help all we can.” Jumin replied in his now monotonous voice, refuosing so show his loss of composure.

“Yes sir,” the security officer said, walking out of the room but then pausing to say, “and I’ll get you your maid to help you clean that up, sir.”

☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆

There were heavy layers of dust and debris floating in the air. MC rose their voice and screamed loud enough for everyone to hear through the mask that they wore. They yelled out instructions to get to safety and all the safety precautions they needed to take. They escorted every single one, tending the ones that are injured, taking their pulses, and trying to get the ones who needed ambulance to the ambulance cars. They pushed a loose strand of hair back as they look at the building that was barely standing up. The firefighters went in and out of the building, grabbing whoever they could. Out of the corner of their eyes, MC saw a child crying and yelping for help with a very loose beam on top of her.

“LOOK OUT!” MC screamed as they sprinted towards the building, putting down all the fear and worries inside their mind aside. They grabbed the child by the arms flung them to safety. But then, the next thing they knew, there was a large crash and everything went black.

☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ★✼☆

Jumin was frustratingly staring at the news that was playing on the huge flat-screen TV that was mounted on his wall. But, his mind wasn’t really listening to what the news reporter was saying because his mind reconsidering the words he said during the argument today. *I’m an idiot. Why did I say that? I lost myself within my emotions, and placed my anger onto them. I have to apologise when they come home today.* Jumin was lost in his thoughts until a familiar name rung in his ear.

“There was 25 casualties today at the scene of the collapse. One being C&R’s Director Han’s wife/husband, Han MC. They were saving a child from a collapsing beam inside the building. The beam collapsed onto MC and they are now being rushed to the hospital along with the 24 others.” The news reporter stated in her robotic voice.

At this Jumin’s eyes widened. He started to panic and yelled for his security to get his ride ready to go to the nearest local hospital. Jumin paced around his room as he started losing his sanity, crying and sobbing. For once in his lifetime, he decided to pray to the God that he never really believed in in his whole so-called Christian life. He prayed that they were okay and alive. He apologised to God for the hurtful things they said to MC and that they are willing to even give their own life in exchange for theirs.

☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ★✼☆

MC’s eyes fluttered open as their vision was filled with the white ceiling and walls. The sound of the monitor beeped in their ears as the smell of medicine lingered in the air. They turned their head to see a sobbing Jumin with his head down in the bed, sniffling and praying. MC weakly reached their hand out to stroke Jumin’s face.

Jumin was startled and surprised as he bombarded MC with questions, “Are you okay!? Are you hurting!? Why weren’t you more careful!? Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?”

MC stared at Jumin with blank confusion on their face. They wiped Jumin’s tears away with the weak force that was left within them. Jumin cleared his throat and apologised for asking so many questions because he was so worried. He rose his hand to MC’s and held it and then started crying harder.

“I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for the words I shouldn’t have said, I was inconsiderate and overwhelmed with work. It blinded me and caused me to distance myself away from you. You’re right I should’ve opened up to you and talked to you instead of hiding away. Please forgive me. I am so glad that you’re alive, I thought I was going to lose you…” Jumin sobbed as he broke down.

MC just smiled as they strated to cry too. They started apologising for the words that they said that upsetted Jumin. MC made Jumin promise them that he would never close himself away from them ever again.

They faintly spoke, “I’m grateful that I’m alive too. I’m so grateful that your face is the first thing I see when I open my eyes, just like every morning in bed. And I hope that it keeps being this way as we grow old together.”

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #fanfic #jumin han #jumin x reader #mm jumin #mm MC #mm RFA #angst #send me asks #elizabeth the 3rd #C&R #atlas

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krreader · 4 years

Text

the wrong victim | chapter 4.

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader fandom: bts ; mentions of exo warnings: gang!au ; non idol!au ; language ; blood genre: angst ; fluff word count: 2.3k+ previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3

summary: in which jeongguk accidentally kidnaps the wrong person and begs you to play the part of the one he actually had to kidnap, just so he could become a member of the famous Bangtan Boys. And, well, you were always a sucker for boys with a tragic past.

a/n: I can’t believe it took me nearly two years to update this, I am so fucking sorry, but writing a new part now made me realize how much my writing style developed over the years and I am pleasantly surprised tbh. anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this ♥

“How is he?” everyone got up when Jin finally walked out with bloody hands that he wiped on a cloth, then brushing the sweat off his forehead with his arm.

“He's stronger than you all give him credit for. He's going to make it.”

Everyone in the room let out a relieved sigh, you plopping back down on the couch and brushing your hands through your hair, shutting your eyes so tight that you began to see stars.

What the hell were you doing?

You just got into a fight and shot someone - that deserved it -, to save the guy that kidnapped you, then afterwards, promising to stay with that same guy, just because you were afraid that it might be the last thing that he'd ever hear.

This was getting out of hand and what started as an action made out of the kindness off your heart had put you in a position that you didn't know how to get out of anymore and that scared you. And not just that, but you weren’t feeling guilty for what you had done. It was like... it had come natural to you. And that surely wasn’t a feeling you should be feeling after having hurt someone.

“By the way,” Jin looked at you, waiting for you to do the same, “He's asking for you. Might be nice for him to see his girl.”

Taehyung started laughing, Yoongi whistled, while the rest just smirked.

You didn't give any of them much attention, simply did what Jin had asked and walked into the room.

He had shut the blinds, one lamp in the corner of the room illuminated it only so much that you could see where you were going and where he was.

He was awake, but his eyelids were heavy. Though, despite all this, he smiled when he saw you.

“Hey..-”

“Don't you fucking hey, me,” you said angrily, “What the hell were you thinking? These guys were ten times taller than you and you just walk in and get yourself nearly killed?”

Jeongguk blinked at you a few times, then he chuckled, though quickly stopping and furrowing his eyebrows when that hurt his body, “You were worried.”

“Worried for my sake,” you lied, though at that time, you still told yourself that it was the truth and that you were worried merely for selfish purposes, “If you had died, it would be ten times harder to get away from here. And while we're having this discussion..-”

“You said you'd stay,” he interrupted you straight away, looking at you with wide eyes, almost disappointed already that you were thinking about breaking your promise.

“Listen to me,” you let out a heavy sigh and sat down on the bed next to him, “I don't know what kind of fucked up fantasy you have began to develop in your mind about me and you being in this criminal relationship..-”

“..-it's not about that..-”

“..- but it won't happen,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, trying to act serious for his, but also your sake. It was like you had to tell him, but also yourself, “I said that because I didn't know whether or not you were going to make it. This has gone way too far and you know it,” you shook your head, “You got what you wanted, you're part of this wonderful gang that will definitely get you killed one day. I helped you, now you help me get out of here and get back to my boring life that I miss.”

“But do you actually?” he asked, then carefully sat up when you didn’t reply right away, “Because part of me thought you were actually beginning to enjoy this.”

You snorted, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But this was the problem, wasn’t it? He could see right through you, despite not knowing you for that long.

It’s not a life that you ever thought would suit you, but maybe..-

Before you could think about this much further, the door got opened and the rest of his members walked in.

“You two done fucking?”

“I hope that's not what you did, that's surely going to open up the stitches,” Jin said disapprovingly.

You simply gave Jeongguk one last look, then got up and walked out, leaving them alone with him.

“Oh, oh.. trouble in paradise?” Jimin sat down where you had just sat, “Is she mad that you nearly got killed?”

“Yeah.. something like that.”

“By the way, who is (Y/N)?” Hoseok asked with a cocked head, “It's what you called her back at the scene.”

Yeah, of course they wouldn't let that go.

“It's just a nickname,” Jeongguk lied as he shrugged.

“That's... a weird nickname, because it sounds like a normal name.”

“Why is that weird? You guys all picked western names too,” Taehyung crossed his arms in front of his chest, “She's just like the rest of us, so I don't see an issue.”

Taehyung would always come to his rescue and Jeongguk gave him a grateful smile for that.

“Yeah.. like us,” Namjoon repeated as he watched you sit down at the couch outside of Jeongguk’s room with a smile. A proud smile, “Maybe we were wrong about her after all.”

“Whatever. Right now, Jeongguk needs to rest,” Jimin smiled and ruffled his hair, “Sleep, kiddo.”

And even though he was out of danger now, he could not find any rest the entire night.

Deep down, he knew that he had to get you out of here, rather sooner than later, before this could escalate any further. Because instead of looking at you disapprovingly, Namjoon had actually smiled at you before.. proudly, so. And even if Hoseok had said that he doubted Namjoon had meant it when he had said you were part of the gang now, he might begin to consider it now that you've proven yourself to be a good shot and saved one of his members.

And getting you out then would be ten times harder.

On top of that, there was still the matter of your mother. If you didn't show up eventually, she'd file a missing persons report and then once that reached the cops, it might lead back to them and then they'd all be in deep shit.

Bad enough that the cops had a pixelated picture of you stealing something, but Yoongi would be able to fix that, he always did and led the cops into a different direction.

But once your mother would file that missing persons report... there might not be such an easy way out anymore.

And so reluctantly, Jeongguk pushed aside the covers, keeping pressure on his wound to be able to walk steadily and make his way outside, but stopping when he heard you talk to... Taehyung? Who he was sure you hated?

“Here,” he handed you a glass filled with what Jeongguk assumed was alcohol, “You look like you need it.”

“I never understood why you're so nice to me when I've been nothing but an ass to you.”

“You're nice to Kookie, so I feel like I need to be nice to you,” he shrugged, “That boy has been through a lot, you know? And I know he's labeled as this playboy guy, but you might actually be the first girl that he has real feelings for.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” you snorted into your glass.

“No, I mean it. The way he looks at you and back in the car, it seemed like all that kept him alive was the thought of seeing you again. He didn't have anything or anyone before us, but now he has more to lose than just six gang members.”

“In case you forgot, he kidnapped me.”

“I think YOU are the one that forgets that sometimes,” he got up from the couch, “From what we've heard, you've never quite had the cleanest slate yourself, as much as you'd like to pretend that you did. There is this rumor.. Namjoon never told me anything, but I overheard him talking to Yoongi hyung. EXO wanted you for a reason. They heard about your talents and wanted to recruit you. And not just them. Any rivaling gang had their eyes on you. We just got lucky that we got to you first.”

“You make it sound like you think I'm here for good.”

“Sooner or later you're going to understand that this gang life with us isn't the worst thing that can happen. I heard about the dump you lived in before, but here? You could have everything you want. You could be everything you want to be. And most importantly... you could be with who you want to be. I know that Namjoon won’t keep you here forever if you truly don’t want to be here, so as soon as he’s sure that you won’t tell on us, he’d let you go. But I don’t think that’s going to happen, Soomin.”

And with that, he walked away.

You didn't see him, but Taehyung did and he winked at Jeongguk who had hid behind a wall when he passed by him.

He thought you might yell something like your usual: 'You're full of shit' after him, but you didn't. You just sat there and stared into your glass, before downing it in one go.

Because see, when someone calls you out on the things that you've been lying to yourself about, it was time to reflect.

And you had a lot of that to do.

Because as much as you hated to admit it... shooting the balls of someone that had deserved it, after years of watching the news and seeing what kind of assholes were out there... it made you think that maybe it was time to change sides.

That maybe, you were on the wrong side of the law.

And that maybe, your boring life that you so desperately claimed that you wanted to get back to, was actually just a cover-up for the truth.

That maybe, you did want to be a part of this.

But admitting that to yourself... it made you sick. Because you tried to tell yourself that you weren’t like that. Like them.

But what if you were?

Jeongguk slowly approached you, not wanting to startle you.

“If you want to leave... then I'll get you out of here.”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, turning around to look at him, “So suddenly?”

“I was naive to think that you might actually stay with me and maybe you were right, maybe I really did make up this fantasy in my head,” he sat down next to you, noticing how your hand immediately reached out to help him, but then you pulled it back once you realized what you were doing, “But it just felt like my life was finally complete now. I had my six brothers and then destiny decided to put you into my life and suddenly I went from having nothing to having everything I could have ever wished for.”

You didn't respond to that, simply let out a heavy sigh.

“I'm sorry for everything that happened, (Y/N), truly.”

“Jeongguk. Can you give me my phone?”

“Wh..- What?”

“You guys took it from me when you brought me here. But I'd like to have it back.”

He wasn't sure this was a good idea. In fact, he was sure it was a terrible idea. What if you were going to call the cops now? Would serve them right, but.. could he take that risk?

“Why?”

“Please. Just give it back to me.”

It didn't seem like you were going to elaborate on what you were going to do with it, so after a few more moments of hesitation, he finally got up, walked away and came back a few minutes later with your phone in his hand.

Before letting go of it, though, he said: “Please don't take my family away from me.”

And then he slowly, very slowly, walked back into his room, hoping to hear whatever you were going to do next.

What you did do, however, surprised him.

“Hey mom. I know, I know, yell at me all you want, you have every right to do so. I am still alive, I'm well and I'm sorry I haven't called earlier. I actually have... good news! I got a new job! Yes, I know! It's a little farther away from the city so I had to commute and I was just so stressed and tired and didn't get a chance to just sit down and call and I know I should have but...- no, it's a good job, really! The co-workers are really nice and the boss... well, he's a boss, you know? Can be a bit of an asshole, but oh well. Anyways, I'm not sure if I can stop by on the 23rd like we agreed on, depends on my schedule, but if I can't, I'll definitely call again. Yes, mom. I promise. I won't go as long as I did now without calling. Okay. Yeah. I love you too. Bye.”

And as you ended the call and stared at the screen, you knew that he was still there.

He looked at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, not believing what you had just done.

Then you said: “Here's the new deal. I will stay... for now. I will however not be your maid anymore or whatever the hell that you brought me here for in the first place. I will do what I want to do. I will call my mother whenever I want to and I will be able to go out whenever I want to. I will not be a prisoner here anymore. If you want me to stay, then don't treat me like a kidnapped anymore.”

“Then... what do you want me to treat you like from now on?”

You got up, brushing over your clothes to straighten them out and once you did and stood tall again, you confidently said: “Like a member of your team.”

You just hoped that this was the right decision.. because like Jeongguk, if you decided to go down that path, there was no going back anymore.

#bts imagine #bts x reader #bts scenario #jeon jeongguk x reader #jeon jeongguk imagine #jeon jeongguk scenario #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk imagine #jeongguk scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #bts #reader #requests

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rons-hermiones · 3 years

Text

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Fifteen

“It’s him.” Ron says darkly, praying Harry can keep him out.

Bill is rushing to the floor to help the writhing boy, until Ron’s shouts stop him, “no!” He warns making him stop.

The entire room freezes at the yell as the ginger takes it upon himself to fall to his knees and console Harry. Carefully, he shakes his shoulder and turns him over, just trying to make him comfortable.

“A pillow! Someone get me a pillow!” He instructs pointing wildly to the sofa.

Someone, Fleur, he thinks, places a crocheted pillow onto the floor as Ron takes the liberty to prop the cushion under Harry’s frantically shaking head.

“Come on Harry. Come on mate. Fight it.” He pleads quietly from his spot above his thrashing friend.

And like Harry heard, he complies. His body begins to relax as the jolts of pain subside into a dull ache and subtle twitch.

“Harry.” Ron says gently.

As he floats back into consciousness, the chosen one's hand finds the scar on his forehead, which is now brandished into a cold sweat. Without realizing it, he groans, the memories of what occurred coming back to him.

The ginger takes notice of the sounds of pain pushing past the dark haired boy's lips and dares to question it, “Harry, what is it? What did he want?”

One word it’s all the Boy-Who-Lived can manage and it’s enough to evoke an immense amount of fear throughout the room. But none more prevalent than in Ron.

“Hermione.” Harry all but cries out, as his green eyes meet wide blue ones.

...

Once the dizziness passes along with the urge to be sick, the first thing that resonates is the ground. It’s hard and cold, sending a chill down her spine. The next thing is the darkness. She can see virtually nothing. Her hands viciously scour the stone for any sense of where she is.

The roughness of what appears to a book rubs against her palm. Seemingly forgetting her situation, she pulls it close, that is until a voice breaks her reverie.

“Lumos.” Bellatrix spits out as the edge of her wand ignites a small light.

Quickly, almost instinctively, Hermione cowers into the corner, the book, whatever it is, hidden between her body and the wall.

“I am tired.” The witch regards, eyes roving over to Greyback who shuffled outside the small chambers confining Hermione.

Lestrange however, was hovering over her scarily, “traveling with such dead weight takes a toll on me.”

Without realizing it, Hermione scowled at the comment. Bellatrix acted as if she was begging to join them.

And then before she could realize what was happening a terrible pain blossomed over her rib cage. The very spot where the dark haired witches heeled boot had seemingly kicked her.

“You ought to learn to teach me with respect, Mudblood! You should be grateful, such filth is usually prohibited from a place so sacred.” She shrieks, spitting wildly as she does.

At the words Hermione does allow a moment to try and piece together where she is. It’s no use, all she can make out is four walls of dreadful grey stone and a cut out for an iron barred door. She just prays that there’s a window to offer light in the morning.

Her voice drops, “now I shall leave you. You are of no use to me now as it is too late to disturb the Dark Lord. You better rest Muddy, you have a big day tomorrow” she giggled madly, turning to the just outside the iron bars.

Her eyes flick to where Greyback is standing, he’s grinning and licking his lips as his dark eyes bore into hers. Hermione squirms uncomfortably.

Satisfied with the interaction Bellatrix slams the door, then saunters away, Fenrir in tow, as she hums to herself.

Finally finding her strength, Hermione slings herself at the iron bars, ignoring how the impact hits her ribs she screams.

“Let me out!” The seventeen years old yells.

Bellatrix stops dead in her tracks. Greyback does the same, but she waves him to go on.

Stepping over with her dimly lit wand, she faces Hermione, noses almost touching through the rungs.

“I can’t help you.” The tears finally hit as the brunette cries to her captor.

Then, Bellatrix points her wand right at Hermione’s throat. Frightened, she tries to protest but soon realizes words can’t come out.

Frantically, she grabs at her throat, she can’t manage anything but pitiless heaves.

“Save your voice Mudblood.” Lestrange smiles, “there will be plenty of time to scream tomorrow.” She pauses, “better yet, the Dark Lord will make you sing.”

At this, the light fades out leaving a horrified Hermione behind.

It just hit her, tomorrow she’d do the most terrifying thing in her life. Something that Harry has done a multitude of times and barely made it out alive, even with a wand.

Tomorrow she would face Voldemort.

Collapsing against the wall, she sobs into her hands. Praying that this is all some sick twisted dream and soon enough she’d wake up on her camp bed in Ginny’s room.

Her cries are silent, prevented by Bellatrix’s silencing spell, she just wishes she could scream.

Scream for her ill grandmother. Scream for the fact she can’t remember the last time she saw her parents. Scream for Harry, that another bad thing happened to him. Scream for Ron, for treating him the way she did. For never saying goodbye, to say what she wanted to.

Crying for who knows how long, Hermione finally collapses completely, letting her body drop onto the floor.

She prepares for her head to make an impact with the cold stone, instead, it falls on top of hard, rough, and worn cloth.

Picking up her heavy head, she feels at the thing. Parts of it are torn, the edges frayed with what seems to be wrapping paper.

Then it hits her.

This is Ron’s gift. She must’ve grabbed it when they apparated.

Scrambling to her feet, with the thing she assumes to be a book in her hands, she goes to the bars. There’s a faint glow from a candle down the hallway and if she strains her eyes hard enough she can vaguely make out the words on it.

Hogwarts, A History,

She swears she reads in thick black letters.

Not that she’s ungrateful, but it’s a peculiar thing to gift her when he knows she has her own copy. Nevertheless, she opens the book, slapping her in the face is a long body of black messy scrawl. That which she knows to belong to Ron.

It’s loopy and barely legible, especially under the lack of light. The only thing she can make out are words like, sorry, Christmas, her name, and the word forgive.

It’s not much but her eyes are strained to the point of hurt. Her tears absently stain the pages as she flips through the book, slowly she begins to realize that on each margin are little notes. They’re too small to read in the darkness, but she knows the writing to be Ron’s.

She soon remembers a fifth year version of herself crumpled under a window, with Ron at her side. She recalls telling him she’d love it if he read Hogwarts, A History, and much to her disappointment all Ron said was: ‘I’d need a bloody good reason to pick this thing up.’

Yet, he had.

Falling to the floor again, the book clutches in her arms like a teddy bear, she goes to speak aloud.

Realizing she can’t, she repeats the words in her head over and over, praying that by some miracle they’d get back to him.

Come find me.

Soon she finds exhaustion, her head filled with nothing but those three words and fiery red hair.

Not even realizing she fell asleep, Hermione wakes up to loud footsteps coming down the nearby steps.

She isn’t sure how much time has gone by. If it’s daytime, she wouldn’t know, there’s just black around her.

Whoever is approaching has a lit candle as they stomp into the room.

“Get up.” A voice hisses.

Hermione doesn’t move.

“Get up now or I’ll come in there.” As he steps forward, she notices a metal hand coil around the door and throws it open.

The sight that meets her is a hunch backed, disgusting looking man. The witch even opens her mouth to say his name, but nothing comes as the silence charm remains.

Peter Pettigrew walks in and grabs her arm roughly, forcing her on wobbly feet.

“Bet you didn’t think you’d see me again did you?” Wormtail was clearly feeling rather confident, usually he was cowering somewhere.

She wanted to tell him that she was surprised he was trusted with such a difficult task, but was physically unable to.

Before she knew it, Wormtail had led her up a flight of stairs and what seemed to be a space as large as a ballroom. Above was a lavish chandelier, but it was covered in dusk. As was everything else in the room.

Too busy taking in the dark wood floor, she failed to notice the figures lurking in the corners.

“Ah Wormtail, thank you for gathering our guests.”

He bowed, his cowardly behavior soon returning, “of course my Lord.” Peter said shakily.

And then suddenly, the coldest, soulless eyes she’s ever seen find her own.

Slowly, the pale figure comes toward her and begins circling her like a shark would to its prey, his snake following.

“I’ve heard much about you, Mudblood.” Voldemort spits.

She says nothing. Even if she could, she doesn’t want to.

“No greeting? That’s no way to treat someone superior to your filthy blood.” He says angrily.

Hermione opens and closes her mouth, unable to speak, looking much like a fish gasping for air.

Nearby, Narcissa Malfoy seems to take note and takes sympathy for the girl.

“Bella the silencing charm.” She nudges her sister.

“Oh!” Bellatrix exclaims stepping forward, “excuse me my lord, the thing is under a silencing charm.” She bows nervously to her master.

At this he flicks his wand and dismisses Lestrange with a wave of his unkempt, dirty hands.

“You may speak now.” He tells Hermione.

Again, she doesn’t want to.

“Cat got your tongue? I had you yelling last night.” Bellatrix pipes up, stepping behind Voldemort.

Then, You-Know-Who raises his wand at her and just as she shuts her eyes waiting for the impact, something stops him.

“Sorry we’re late my lord.” Fenrir Greyback sounds from the fireplace, bowing as he says this.

Behind him are two death eaters. One she doesn’t recognize, but is known as Scabior. The other, she does know.

“Beautiful.” Scabior comments before he can help it.

She cowers under their dark gazes.

“Seems as if someone remembers you Dolohov.” Greyback comments with a grin, speaking to the other man.

He steps forward, making Hermione stumble back, causing laughs to fill the room.

“It seems as if you’ve forgotten,” Voldemort’s voice booms, making them all stop, “but the thing is mine first and foremost.”

Choruses of agreements sound the room as a few of them offer a low bow.

In a nearby corner Lucius Malfoy whispers to his wife to go upstairs. A request she’s more than happy to fulfill, not wanting to see what’s to come.

“Now, address me properly and tell me what you know filth.” He demands of Hermione.

She stands up tall, chin pushed forward and proud look on her face. She says nothing.

“I thought I’d taken the silence charm off of you, no matter, Bellatrix, would you do the honors?” He asks the eager woman.

“Of course my lord!” She leaps at the chance, “Crucio!” The witch bellows.

A stream of red light shoots to Hermione and she falls to the floor in pain. The witch does her best not to make any noises, biting her lip so hard she draws blood in the process.

Soon, the effects of the curse die down as Voldemort comes over and presses his barefoot to her cheek, pushing it into the floor.

“Tell me what you know Mudblood!” He screams at her.

Briefly, she peers into his sunken eyes.

At the sight, Hermione’s mind flashed to that book. The one she found on prefect rounds late one night whilst escaping from Ron. It was buried behind several books, in the restricted section.

She knew how wrong it was, she shouldn’t even have been there, but she couldn’t help it, like it was calling to her. And for some odd reason, Hermione just knew a boy who once went by the name of Tom Riddle had picked up this very book. The very man standing in front of her now. Or what’s left of him anyway.

Surely he couldn’t be talking about the horcruxes? Could he? How would he even know she knew such a thing?

Despite that, she remains strong and silent despite the curse.

Then, he crouches to the floor. Running one long nail, he pushes back her wild hair to see tears streaming her face.

“So you don’t want to talk then?” He whispers sourly.

Hermione remains perfectly still.

“Nevertheless, you’ll be screaming.” The dark wizard says with a venomous smirk before standing.

“Crucio!” He yells.

And like his magic is stronger than Bellatrix's, the curse feels ten times more intense. It feels like her body’s burning from the inside out. And before she can help it, she screams.

A horrible sound.

As the effects of the curse wear off, the dull buzz in her ears fades, but the pain remains.

“Want to talk now?” Voldemort asks, circling her again as the room smiles at the scene.

Tears absently run down her cheeks as she manages the strength to shake her head. She has to stay quiet, for Harry, for Ron, for the entire fate of Wizarding Britain.

“Very well,” he raises his wand again, she braces for the impact, “Cruc-”

Before the words can leave his mouth, a loud thud sounds as Hermione’s blurry vision clears and she makes out someone writhing next to her, like she was moments ago.

Bellatrix rushes over, placing her hands atop Voldemort’s trashing form.

And Hermione knows that somewhere, Harry is doing the exact same thing. She just prays whatever he sees, will lead them right to her.

#ron x hermione #ron weasley #ron and hermione #rons-hermiones come find me #hermione granger #romione #romione fanfic #hp fanfic #hp #sixth year

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fuckallthegood0nesweretaken · 4 years

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The Dove and Her Hound - CH. TwentyNine

Title: A New King

Words: 2,040

Warnings: Slight language

A/N: It’s almost over! Just one more chapter and the series is done, I can’t believe it! Also, if you’d like to request something, send me an ask. I’d love to write something for you!

Taglist: @tonbluemchen @affection-rabbit @art-flirt @10morgan10 @thatting @iwontdance-dontaskme @simsvetements

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Sandor Masterlist

Game of Thrones Masterlist

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

It had been a week since your son had been born and many things had happened. You learned that one of Daenerys’ dragons had been killed, most of the fleet destroyed, and Missandei captured. Brienne had come to visit you and the child as well. She apologized for the way she handled things when she encountered your trio years ago. She did not know the significance Sandor had in your life and never knew how to approach you about it. You accepted her apology immediately and you apologized to her as well for your naïve attitude and your hate towards her.

The same night Brienne apologized to you, Jaime Lannister fled Winterfell to go back to Cersei. You had known that Brienne and Jaime were together and when you found out he left, you went to console her.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” you said. “If he leaves you for another woman when he had you then he’s not worth your tears.”

You wiped away the tears running down her cheeks and looked her in the eyes.

“You are strong. You are beautiful. You deserve better. Don’t let one man ruin things for you forever. It’s okay to still love him, but don’t let that take over everything.”

Brienne gave you a watery smile and sat up a little straighter.

“Thank you, Lady [y/n],” Brienne said. You stood up and kissed her forehead.

“You should get some rest. I have a feeling that we’re going to do some traveling soon.”

---

Turns out that you were right. A raven arrived from King’s Landing a week later and before you knew it, you were traveling down the Kingsroad. Brienne and Sansa hadn’t wanted you go with them because of the baby, but you went anyways. It took little less than a month to get to the Capital and it looked nothing like you remembered.

Buildings and houses were charred and crumbling. Ash was still on the streets, swept away into corners. The Red Keep was almost all burnt down. The people of King’s Landing were trying their best to rebuild their homes and lives but it would take years to get things back to the way they were.

The raven had told you where to go and once more, you found yourself in the Dragonpit. You were seated between Sansa and Brienne, your babe on your lap. Bran and Arya were next to Sansa. You were the first ones there. Ser Davos and Gendry were the next ones to arrive, with Yara, Robin, Yhon Royce, and the rest to follow. Another person showed up with the last group and you couldn’t breathe. It was Sandor, alive and well. The two of you locked eyes and your chest hurt. He looked like he was going to approach you when Greyworm brought out Tyrion before you in chains. Jon was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Jon?” Sansa asked Greyworm.

“He is our prisoner.”

“So is Lord Tyrion,” you said. “They were both supposed to be here.”

“We will decide the fate of our prisoners. This is our city now.”

“If you look outside the walls of your city, you’ll find thousands of Northmen who will explain to you why harming Jon Snow is not in your interest.”

“And you will find thousands of Unsullied who believe that it is.”

“Some of you are quick to forgive. The Ironborn are not. I swore to follow Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow put a knife through her heart. Let them give him what he deserves,” Yara said, venom spewing from her words.

“Say one more word about killing my brother and I’ll slit your throat.” Arya’s face was ruthless and cold. Yara made to stand up but Ser Davos beat her to it.

“Friends, please. We’ve been killing each other for too long.” He turned to face Greyworm. “Torgo Nudho. Am I saying that properly? If it weren’t for you and your men, we would have lost the fight with the dead. This country owes you a debt that can never be repaid. But let us try. There is land in the Reach. Good land. The people that used to live there are gone. Make it your own, start your own house with the Unsullied as your bannermen.”

“I agree. We’ve had enough war. Thousands of you, thousands of us. You know how it ends. There has to be another way,” you said.

“We do not need payment. We need justice,” Greyworm spat. “Jon Snow cannot go free.”

Ser Davos sat back down and Tyrion let out a small breath.

“It’s not for you to decide,” Tyrion said.

“You are not here to speak!” Greyworm shouted. “Everyone has heard enough words from you.”

“You’re right. And no one’s any better for it. But it’s not for you to decide.” Tyrion looked up at everyone. “Jon Snow committed his crime here. It is for our King to decide. Or our Queen.”

“But we don’t have a King or Queen,” Royce said.

“You’re the most powerful people in Westeros. Choose one.”

“Make your choice. Quickly.”

Everyone was silent for once and was looking around at the other people. Nobody spoke until your uncle stood up. He started a little speech talking about him being one of the senior lords in the country and that he knew a little bit about statecraft. It was then that Sansa intervened.

“Uncle. Please sit,” she said. He kind of spluttered a bit and only sat down when Sansa gestured to his seat with her head. He backed into a pole and it took all your willpower not to laugh.

“Well, we have to choose someone,” Royce said. That’s when Sam got up and suggested that the people help pick a monarch. Everyone did laugh at that and Sam sat back down, more than slightly embarrassed. It was a funny notion, but you didn’t laugh at your friend.

“I suppose you want the crown,” your uncle said to Tyrion.

“Me? No. Half the people hate me for serving Daenerys and the other half hate me for betraying her. Can’t think of a worse choice.”

“Who then?” You asked.

“What unites people? Armies? Gold? Flags?” Tyrion shook his head. “Stories. There’s nothing in the world more powerful than a good story. Nothing can stop it. No enemy can defeat it. And who has a better story than Bran the Broken?”

You sat up a little straighter and looked at your siblings in confusion. When you looked back at Tyrion, he kept speaking.

“The boy who fell from a high tower and lived. He knew he would never walk again, so he learned how to fly. He went beyond the wall. A crippled boy. And he became the Three-Eyed-Raven. He is our memory, our history. All the wars, weddings, births, massacres, and famines. Our triumphs and our defeats. Our past. Who better to lead us into the future?”

“Bran has no interest in ruling and he can’t father children,” Sansa said.

“Good. Sons of Kings can be cruel and stupid, as you well know. His will never torment us,” Tyrion said to Sansa. To Greyworm he said, “That is the wheel our Queen wanted to break.”

“From now on rulers will not be born. They will be chosen on this spot by the Lords and Ladies of Westeros to serve the realm.” He turned to Bran. “I know you don’t want it. I know you don’t care about power. But I ask you now, if we choose you, would you wear the crown?”

“Why do you think I came all this way?” Bran said after a moment. Tyrion looked a little shocked that Bran had actually said yes and you knew that the other people in this meeting were feeling the same way.

“To Brandon of House Stark, I say aye,” Tyrion said. Everyone was quiet until you and Sam said ‘aye’ at the same time. Tyrion sent the both of you a grateful look. Your uncle was next followed by the men from the Vale. Yara and the new Prince of Dorne agreed as well along with Gendry and Ser Davos. Brienne agreed as well, but you saw that Sansa was trying to pick out words again.

“You know I love you, little brother. I always will. You’ll be a good King. But tens of thousands of Northmen fell defending Westeros. And those who survived have fought too hard and too much to ever kneel again,” Sansa said. “The North will remain an independent country, as it was for thousands of years.”

Bran nodded in consent and you could see the relief flood through Sansa’s body.

“All hail Bran the Broken,” Tyrion said. Everyone stood up and repeated those words. When everyone sat back down, Tyrion bowed to the new King and started to make his way out of the Pit.

“Tyrion,” Bran called. “You will be my hand.”

“N-No, your grace. I don’t want it.”

“I know. And I don’t want to be King.” Tyrion shook his head.

“I don’t deserve it. I thought I was wise but it turns out I’m not. I thought that I knew what was right, but I did not. Choose Ser Davos. Choose anyone else.”

“I choose you.”

“You cannot,” Greyworm said angrily.

“Yes I can. I’m King.”

“This man is a criminal. He deserves justice.”

“He just got it. He’s made a lot of terrible mistakes. He’s going to spend the rest of his days fixing them.”

Greyworm was angry and he spat out, “That’s not enough!”

---

After about an hour of talking, a decision was made. Jon would go back to Castle Black as a member of the Night’s Watch. You and your sisters wanted him freed completely, but you recognized that this was the only way for your brother to keep his head. You would miss seeing him every day, but you’d lived with this before so it shouldn’t be too hard. Jon was to leave that evening and you had a few hours before you had to say goodbye. Everyone was slowly trickling out of the Dragonpit when Sandor came up to you.

“Dove,” Sandor said quietly. You froze and slowly turned around.

“I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“You did.”

“Why are you here, Sandor?” Your voice sounded tired and Sandor could see it in your eyes.

“I heard you were here and I wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk about what? How you left me for some petty revenge? How I gave birth with you not by my side? How I have been raising our son without you?”

“I-I have a son?” Sandor’s heart skipped a beat and your chest tightened at the sound of his voice breaking.

“Yes.”

“What’s his name?”

“Eddard. Eddard Stark.”

“Are you going by Stark too?”

“Ever since you left me.” Sandor was silent for a moment. He stepped closer to you tentatively.

“Would you ever take me back?” You sucked in a breath, eyes wide.

“I know I fucked up and I know it will take a lot to fix it. If you’ll even take me back, that is. But even if you decide not to, I want you to know that I still love you. I always have. I’ll always love our babe and I will do anything for the two of you.”

His voice was so quiet you could barely hear it, but it was also so loud that it was ringing in your ears. Your eyes filled with tears and you gestured to Sansa to take Eddard from your arms. When your arms were free, you wrapped them around Sandor tightly. It took him a few seconds to respond, but soon you were being spun around. You let out a giggle that was cut short by Sandor kissing you. It was a sweet kiss that you broke shortly after it began.

“While I love kissing you, I think you’d like to officially meet your son, yes?”

Sandor’s eyes lit up and Sansa brought over your son. You took him from her and gently placed him in his father’s arms. You showed Sandor how to hold him properly and the sight made you melt. Finally, your family was complete.

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takeiteasypeasybaby · 3 years

Text

Save Me: Chapter 75 - For Me

~Hey guys! Chapter 75 is out now :) I cant believe theres only two more chapters of Save Me, this journey has been incredible and I'm so grateful for all of you supporting me <3 Enjoy!~

Molly, Negan and Daryl all go out to look for Lydia when they encounter a dangerous threat which affects the safety of the whole family.

That journey felt like the longest ever.

Each step we took felt like we weren't any closer to reaching Lydia.

We didn't even know whether she would be at the bridge but I just held onto hope a tightly as I could because there was no way in hell that I would leave her out there.

When we reached the border, I angrily took out the pikes that lined it.

The barbarity of the whisperers would never been repeated but unfortunately we would never be able to forget either, pikes or no pikes.

That was where Aaron and Carol had seen Lydia and they told us the direction she had headed in since, so we followed it until we got to the road.

I recognised it instantly and I knew that the bridge wasn't far from here.

'Guys! this way!' I said to Negan and Daryl as I saw an abandoned car in the distance.

We all automatically put up our weapons, just in case of people or walkers in or around the car.

Negan asked me to stay back and wait while he and Daryl checked it out.

I reluctantly agreed and watched them cautiously as they moved around the vehicle.

Daryl wiped away dust on the back window and shook his head to signal there was nothing in there.

Negan moved around and stopped when he crouched by the back tires.

'Molly' he shouted as he ushered me over.

'What is it?' I asked worriedly as he stood up slowly and turned around as he held out a silver locket in his fingers.

My heart dropped as I took it in my hands and saw the engraving: T.C.

'It's Lydia's' I said sadly as I looked down and put it in my pocket.

Daryl patted my shoulder and said 'it could've fallen off, doesn't mean she's dead'.

Negan nodded.

'We'll find her Moll' he said smiling weakly as he wrapped an arm around me.

I nodded a silent 'mhm' as we kept walking.

She could still be at the bridge or somewhere near it, I thought to myself.

Hope was all I had at the moment and I couldn't lose it or it would break me.

It wasn't much later until we reached the bridge.

I paced as fast as I could in my condition and checked the bridge frantically.

There was no sign of her at all.

I wanted to scream in pain as I gripped my hair in frustration.

'What if something happened to her? I was sure this was it! This was the place!' I yelled as I started to tear up.

'Kid!' Negan yelled as he searched down the bank.

Daryl went in the opposite direction and yelled 'Lydia!'.

I paced around on the bridge as tears rolled down my face.

'I can't lose her' I said to Negan as he came back up to the bridge.

He ran over and hugged me as he stroked my hair.

'I know, I know' he said soothingly.

'I can't lose anyone else, I just can't' I cried into his chest as he kissed my head and turned to Daryl almost pleadingly.

This was the first time where I saw Negan feeling completely hopeless and out of control, he knew he couldn't help me or take the pain away.

'I'm not stopping until I find her' I said as I inhaled and wiped away my tears and I continued over the bridge.

'We've gone too far out, it's getting dark' Daryl said softly.

Negan spun round and said sternly 'she's our daughter, you go back if you want but we're going on. I can protect Molly by myself'.

Negan followed after me and so did Daryl after some hesitation.

We carried on walking for hours and hours, stopping occasionally for water and rest.

It was starting to get dark now so we agreed to walk along the roadside so we could see walkers better just in case any approached us.

I felt like I was in a daze, the only sound was the clack of my feet on the tarmac as we walked with no end in sight.

Our supplies were starting to get low and Daryl was right, it was getting dark and soon it would be stupidly dangerous to stay out here.

Negan persuaded me to turn back and just as I agreed I saw another abandoned car further up the road.

It looked like it had crashed into a tree and some walkers were around it.

'There's someone in there!' I said as I pointed it out.

'Walkers wouldn't be around it if there wasn't' I said hopefully.

Daryl and Negan ran over to check it out as I paced after them.

Daryl took out the walkers with his crossbow as Negan ran round to check inside.

'There's someone in there!' he said to me as he pulled open the door.

'Lydia' he said slowly which made my eyes widen as I came over as fast as I could.

He reached inside the backseat and carried her out, laying her on the grass as he checked her pulse.

'Lydia! Oh my god!' I said as I stayed by her worriedly.

'She's alive, but her pulse is weak' Negan said as Daryl took out a blanket from his rucksack to make her more comfortable.

I took her hand in mine and it was as cold as ice, she started to move and her eyes opened slowly as she looked at me.

'Mom?' she asked as she tried to sit up.

'Easy, easy' Daryl said as she lay back down.

'You found me' Lydia said wearily.

'I'm so sorry' she cried as she lay back.

I lowered myself down slowly and sat next to her on the grass.

'Hey, shh, it's okay. I'm just glad I found you and that you're safe' I said as I stroked her face.

Negan gave her some water and food and she started to regain her strength.

'Why did you leave kiddo?' Negan asked softly.

Lydia looked down sadly and said 'I thought it would be better for everyone at Alexandria if I left. No more reminders of the whisperers so everyone can just heal. I do love Alexandria, it's my home, but when you said that Alpha had died...I felt weirdly out of place, like I didn't belong anywhere'.

'I understand. I was so wrapped up in the idea that the person who had killed my sister was dead, but I didn't think about how she was your mother and how hard losing her would be on you. I should've known you weren't okay, that's my job. But, I swear to you, I will do better. I promise, we promise' I said seriously as she smiled at all of us.

'Thank you. Not just for saving me, but for everything else. You both gave me a home and I'm sorry it took me so long to realise that it is my home and that I do belong in Alexandria. For the longest time, I've always felt out of place, but now I know that people may call me a whisperer, but that doesn't mean that I am one' Lydia said softly as Negan and I hugged her.

'You're damn right kid' Negan said smiling as he looked up at me.

I was crying happy tears because I had my two daughters back and they were both safe.

We were getting ready to leave and head back to Alexandria and as Negan held my hand and helped me up, a sharp pain shot up my spine.

'Agh!' I shouted as I placed a hand on my back and I felt pressure in my lower stomach.

'What is it? Is it the baby?!' Negan asked worriedly as I leant on him.

I nodded 'mhm' as I shut my eyes tightly in pain.

Daryl said 'shit' as he and Lydia gathered up our stuff and said we had to move because he saw a large hoard of walkers in the distance.

'We can't out run em, we need shelter' Daryl continued as I tried to walk as Negan helped me lean on him for support.

'There's a house just down the road' Negan said as he looked around us frantically and spotted a shadowed building close by.

I panted and winced at the pain.

It must have been contractions and the pain was becoming unbearable to keep walking so Negan lifted me up and carried me in his arms.

'You can't, I'm too heavy!' I said breathlessly.

'Light as a feather darlin' he joked as he walked further.

Daryl opened the gates to the house and he busted open the door and checked for walkers inside.

Lydia held my hand as Negan carried me to the door and up the stairs.

The house was abandoned and old, the windows were cracked and the floorboards creaked.

Daryl secured the front door and pushed a bookshelf against it to hold it incase the hoard moved past the house.

He shut all other entrances and met us upstairs where Negan was laying down blankets and Lydia was taking out water and rolling up her sleeves.

'You know how to do this kid?' Negan asked Lydia as she remained calm.

'We had a lot of births being outside' she replied as Negan just nodded.

Daryl stood around awkwardly until he said 'I'm gonna keep an eye out downstairs, tell me when y'all done' as he walked swiftly out the room.

I started to sweat and I panted through the pain.

Negan removed my shirt and pants as I lay on the blankets with my head propped up on a pillow.

'Your water's broke and you're dilated about 4cm' Lydia said calmly as we were both in awe.

She sounded like a damn doctor.

I grabbed Negan's hand and squeezed tightly when the contractions came, it felt like I was being repeatedly shot in the stomach.

Lydia held my legs as she said 'I can see her!'.

I panted in relief as Negan wiped my brow to keep me cool.

I started to push and screamed 'Agh!' as I squeezed Negan's hand harder, digging my nails into his skin.

He just chuckled the pain away and stroked my hair.

'You're doing wonderful darlin' he said softly as he kissed my forehead.

I took a few deep breaths between pushes and screamed through the last push as Lydia said 'keep going, she's here!' and pulled her out.

I panted as my eyes rolled closed and I smiled when I heard screaming from my baby.

'It's a girl!' Negan said as Lydia wrapped her in a blanket and tied the umbilical cord with string in her bag.

Daryl came back in and said 'coast is clear' and immediately looked away when he saw the mess.

'Daryl I need your penknife' Lydia said as he handed it to her hastily.

She cut the cord and lifted our baby to me.

I cried when I saw her little face.

I held her against my chest as Negan wriggled down to lie beside me as he kissed our daughter on the forehead.

'Welcome to the world Zoe' he said softly as he smiled at me.

I smiled and asked 'Zoe? I thought you didn't like that name'.

He shook his head.

'No, after what you just fucking went through, you can have your choice' he chuckled as he kissed me.

'Hi Zoe' Lydia said as she lay down on the other side of me.

'Is that your big sister?' I whispered to Zoe as she opened her eyes and stared at her.

'How are you feeling?' Negan asked me worriedly as I smiled up at him.

'I'm perfect, absolutely perfect' I replied happily.

'How lucky are we? Our two daughters' Negan said as we all cuddled together.

While Lydia and I held Zoe, Negan jumped up to check outside.

'We should be okay here for a few hours' he said as he looked over to Daryl who nodded.

'The hoard might not come this way but that doesn't mean that it couldn't. We need to be ready to move if it does' he replied.

I shot Negan a worried look and he said to Daryl, 'my wife has just given birth, I don't think she's up for a walk right now'.

'We might not get a choice' Daryl said sternly as he and Negan glared at each other.

I sighed and said 'enough, if we have to go, we go'.

Lydia packed up her bag as I breastfed Zoe, admiring how adorable and perfect she was.

I reached back and undid the clasp of my locket and tucked it into Negan's jacket which was on the floor next to me.

I just wanted to make sure that Zoe would get the locket no matter what happened, I wanted my daughters to be equal.

I pulled out the locket from my pocket and gave it to Lydia.

'We found this' I said smiling as she looked so happy to see it again.

'It must have ripped off when I fought off a walker' she said as she put it back on and admired it.

'Been there' I joked as Negan turned around and rolled his eyes in reminiscence.

Daryl watched at the window for hours without sleep while he protected our family.

'Thank you Daryl' I said smiling at him as he nodded.

'She's gonna be a lil ass kicker that's for sure' Daryl said sweetly.

Negan and I chuckled as we held her in our arms.

Lydia was nestled under my arm and I stroked her hair as we all lay there in silent peace.

My bleeding had stopped and I felt my strength coming back after a few hours which was a good sign.

But, just as I was about to sit up, Daryl said 'hoard' as he spied it through his sniper rifle.

'We have to go' Lydia said as I held Zoe in my arms and Negan grabbed our bags.

#negan #twd #the walking dead #negans thirst squad #negan x original female character #mollychambler #saveme #lydia twd #michonne #donnie

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wolfir-shard · 5 years

Text

You Know I’d Do Anything For You

FUCKNKGIN CHALLENGE ACCEPTED everyone please go shower minty in love ok?? AUs r TOP-NOTCH here’s... a small take of my own on the Minake Detective/Hitman AU ;A;

There were worse and less ironic ways to die, but Minato wasn’t really bothered by it. It was almost hilarious that he would be bleeding like this on the ground of some seedy warehouse in the dead of night with Goro Akechi pushing hair out of his eyes.

He gave a little laugh at the ridiculous nature of it all that became more of a cough, and it hurt a lot more than he was expecting. That was the problem with pain: your brain dampened the effect after it was over with, so every time something happened it hurt anew, like your were a child just seeing the universe and experiencing pain for the first time.

“Why?” Akechi hissed out angrily, already trying to pull his shirt away from the wound, and drawing Minato's attention. “Why the hell did you do that, Arisato-?!”

Minato winced at the roughness and the feverish pace of the pulling. He bit his lip and grinned weakly in reply, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead. “Y-Y’know, I thought you would be more grateful…”

“Shut up!” There was a frazzled fray to the other’s voice that caused Minato to obey, and he turned his eyes to Akechi.

The other’s teeth were grit, reddish-brown eyes shining with unshed tears, and hair hanging in little wet ringlets from the rain outside. He looked pitiful and terrible, a panicking creature trying desperately to fight an inevitable. Minato felt his brow furrow slightly, and then he winced again as Akechi prodded the wound.

It had been a simple investigation at first glance. The warehouse had been a weird place to go to for a search to be fair, but a string of otherwise unrelated clues about the strange disappearances the two were investigating all kept pointing here, so it was imperative they at least check out the space. They’d pulled up just as night was falling in Minato’s old navy blue car, stepping out into the rain and meager streetlight like some kind of bad detective noir movie.

The warehouse was dark, and damp, and full of shadows that kept them both on edge. The towers of crates, half illuminated, the maddening plink of dripping water… Everything was a strain to not focus on, and both of them were far, far too nervous. They walked back to back through the aisles, guns at the ready, and eyes scanning the darkness for threats. Once or twice Minato thought he saw one or two shadows actually move, and they would halt, but neither ever managed to catch sight of whatever was casting them.

Searching out what they needed had been going nowhere, and Minato was ready to throw in the towel for the night when several men had stepped out of the shadows and into view. Minato wasn’t sure at the time why there were so many, where they had come from, why they had guns -- too many facts all at once -- but Akechi had gone as white as a sheet, one had raised his gun, and Minato was moving in front of Akechi before any of them had the time to think.

The bullet had connected with him and it was like someone had stabbed him with a spear made of molten rock. All at once his mind was too slow and he was stumbling back, and the shock was written so clearly on the man's face, the shock and the disgust that was so chilling it made him feel momentarily sick. It was as if he had never anticipated someone stepping in front of… What must have been his target.

Goro. Minato’s mind supplied as he fell ungracefully forwards onto his knees, the whole world moving in slow motion. He was going to shoot Goro.

In that moment most of everything clicked into place, as if the murder board and the files flashing before his eyes, details he stored and bookmarked for later were all thrown open across his mind’s eye. Goro Akechi coming to work for him, he connections to the government, the suddenly silenced news outlets, the disappearances... Masayoshi Shido, the mayoral hopeful, covering up scandals and alternate viewpoints with the quick and quiet extension of a hitman, in a detecting inner circle, access to high-level cases and equipment, information… It fell so neatly into place Minato was honestly impressed, and a little bit pissed off it had taken him until now to realize it.

Minato was a target -- had been a target? -- but if he wasn’t dead that meant he had been important, he had been right not to be trusting and now there was a price being paid for their guards being down.

He raised his head, the first man was raising his gun again, but Minato heard the muffled burst of a silenced gun and then the man was stumbling back, and then the man was running, and the bursts repeated three or four times, sending the other hitmen scattering. Goro kept firing at their retreating bodies, his hands shaking minutely. Minato took a rattling breath and his entire body set on fire, causing him to slump forwards with a whimper of pain.

Then Akechi was on him, all hands and support and Minato found himself draped across Akechi’s lap, leaning against his shoulder while the other fumbled to stop the bleeding with shaking hands.

“Why?” Akechi hissed again, though this time it was less shocked and angry. It sounded more pained and scared than anything and Minato fought to keep his eyes open.

“Because… You’re my friend.” Minato said, wincing as the wound stung and pain radiated through his body. “C-Couldn’t just… Do nothing…”

“I’m your enemy you imbecile-” Akechi choked out, fumbling with his own shirt.

“Mm.” Minato acknowledged. “Smart enemy.”

“Stop talking, save your strength.”

“Why are you… Trying to save me?” Minato turned silver eyes back to his companion, who was avoiding eye contact as he ripped fabric to make bandages.

“Because you’re important.” Akechi responded curtly, his hands trembling still.

“Important…?” Minato returned, amused.

“Can you kindly quit being smug for two minutes? Please?”

“Why am I important, Akechi?”

The other fell silent, into a minute where Minato had to breathe a little harder to keep himself conscious.

“You were kind when you didn’t need to be.” Akechi decided on, wrapping the torn shirt around the bleeding wound. “You are a person I wish I could be and everything that I am not.”

“Jealous?”

“Immensely.”

“Did Shido send you after me?”

Akechi bit his lip, and then nodded, almost slumping in quiet defeat.

“Why?”

“You had information he was afraid of getting out. I was to leech you of all useful information and then kill you.”

Minato laughed, and winced. His head was swimming. A target. “Is that so…”

“Minato stay with me-” Akechi pulled him closer, the pain evident in his beautiful ruby eyes. “Stay… Stay with me. Please. W-Why did you jump in front of me?”

“Because… You’re… my friend, Goro.” He murmured again. “We’re partners…”

“You idiot.” Tears were spilling down Akechi’s cheeks, and Minato reached up to wipe them away. “You’re going to die for a Mephistophiles, Minato. I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“M’not dead yet.” Minato murmured, and then sighed as the world began slipping away. “Will you sing for me…?”

“S-Sing?” Akechi repeated.

“Mmh.” Minato nodded, slow and sluggish. “Just… whatever…”

Akechi took in a breath and then gently gathered up Minato, starting to sing as he stood. Minato’s vision and head swayed and he rested his cheek against Goro’s shoulder. There was a heartbeat in his ear, and he wasn’t sure if it was his or Akechi’s, thrumming softly to the beat of the song that echoed like angels in his head, reverberating with a quiet affection that felt too raw and powerful for a mere mortal body. Minato wasn’t aware of when his eyes had closed, only that the darkness around him felt cold, and it was pulling at the warmth encased in his chest.

The darkness felt so safe, so steady and almost inviting despite the cold. The warmth burned him and promised pain and light, and a struggle he was not sure he could win. It would be so easy to let the darkness claim him, soft and silent, falling into it like falling asleep and sinking into the depths like a great ship to its final resting place. It would be so easy to let go.

But the song, it called him, quiet and imploring. It echoed in his soul and his heart, begging him to return to the light. It sounded like love and pain and heartbreak, and Minato was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

The world came into focus slowly, first he could feel. He was somewhere soft, and warm. Dry too. His hand had things wrapped around it, and his other hand was being held. He was breathing. He could feel his hair on his face, something over his mouth and nose. The air smelled sterile and cold… Slowly hearing returned, the quiet beeping of a hospital heart monitor, and the singing. The song that had pulled him just out of slipping away.

Minato cracked his eyes open.

The ceiling of a hospital room greeted his eyes as he blinked the fuzz away and turned his head towards the sound. Akechi was still singing, still soaking wet, holding Minato’s hand and singing quietly to it. All of Minato was hurting right now, and the dim light of the hospital wasn’t quite dim enough for his aching eyes, but it was something. He was alive.

“What was that about me dying?” He croaked, smiling as Akechi jumped a good foot in the air, eyes opening wide and mouth slightly open. The expression made Minato laugh, and it hurt just as much as it did before.

“Minato-!” Akechi lit up like a star, and grasped his hand tighter. “How are you feeling?”

“Like garbage…” He shut his eyes with a quiet wince as he processed the radiating pain. “Feels like someone stabbed me with a rusty pole… But I’m alive.”

“It’s a miracle.” Akechi murmured, still quietly stroking Minato’s hand. The two remained there for a few silent minutes, Minato's only movement being to lace his fingers with Akechi's. He could feel the other's pulse against a wayward finger; fast and panicked still.

“... Did you ever stop singing?” Minato turned his eyes to Akechi again, curious and soft.

Akechi glanced away, and dug his teeth into his lower lip, before quietly admitting “No.” as if he was embarrassed.

Minato smiled, and weakly squeezed his hand. “You had a hand in the miracle.”

“Don’t be silly.” his companion scoffed, though it sounded sad.

“You did.” Minato insisted. “I was right between life and death and the only thing that saved me was your song. I could hear it… Echoing softly in my ear the whole time.” He thumbed the skin of Akechi’s hand.

Akechi blinked at him, as if genuinely surprised, and then smiled, weak and true, and everything soft about the world. Minato wanted to bottle up that smile and keep it forever. “If you say so.”

“I know so.” Minato murmured, still smiling, and Akechi laughed. It was enough for Minato to start laughing too, in this one moment of safety and… trust.

#persona 3 #persona 5 #detective/hitman au #minake #persona #minato arisato #goro akechi #im sorry i wanted it to be perfect #i kept it in my drafts for like five days #me: i need to edit it and make sure it's perfect #sobs #here u go

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legends-of-nisty · 5 years

Text

Symbiote

Fandom: Fairytail

Ship Title: Gajevy/Gale

Rating: T

A.N: Hello everyone! I have a direction for this fanfiction again so hopefully I won’t stall out on it again.

Again, please keep in mind that this is only inspired by Venom but it’s also Fairytail inspired so it’s not exactly Venom symbiote style. Hope you all still enjoy. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Fairytail of it’s characters. Inspiration was taken from Marvel’s Venom characters. Any similarities are because of this inspiration. All credit goes to Marvel studios and the Fairytail creators for this inspiration and the characters.

____________________________

Chapter 4

The road cracked and heaved beneath the weight of the silver man that landed absorbing the impact with his knees.

Levy, watching from within, barley felt a shock wave and yet she was still screaming. She should be dead. She should be very dead.

But we’re not dead shorty so stop fucking screamin’. Gajeel growled back at her getting rather perturbed with her constant fear and panic reactions. She had the fight or flight instinct of a chipmunk. Levy quieted though he could tell she was overwhelmed with fear.

He looked up the street hearing sirens in the distance, from Levy’s squeak in his head he could tell it meant trouble. He turned and started running the other direction. People on the sidewalk looked at him with annoyance then shock as they registered his appearance, but he blew past them, too fast for anyone to really get a good look at him.

“W-where are we going?” Levy managed to still stutter even as she was only thinking the words and not saying them. Gajeel looked up the street at the rows of building varying from apartment buildings to malls and business buildings. (All the specific information provided by Levy’s memories, though if you asked Gajeel what a mall was in that moment he’d have to do some further digging in her mind.) He stopped on a corner that was fairly quiet besides a homeless man that looked at him with nothing but casual curiosity.

You tell me shorty. We need a place to hide. He thought back to her and he could not only hear her but also feel her thinking. It was odd to describe but it seemed he could see a picture of her in his mind’s eye despite her actual physical form being within him. She was doing a focused expression and her bottom lip pouted ever so slightly.

It was cute he decided and instantly regretted making that decision in that moment as it flustered her out of her thinking state.

“What?” She said, again, her image in his mind becoming red with blush.

Where are we going shrimp? He thought back impatiently and she nodded after a moment in his head attempting to become more focused.

Places flashed behind his eyes all followed by an explanation.

“We can go to Lucy’s place. She might be able to hide us. I don’t know if they’ll have it under watch though.” She said quickly unsure but Gajeel was already running with speed that couldn’t be matched by the average human, dodging between people with surprising agility as he followed the map from Levy’s memories that led to this Lucy person’s house.

_________________________

When they were a block away Gajeel melted back into Levy’s skin allowing her full control of her body again. As soon as his goo reseeded she leaned up against the wall dizzy and needing to take a breath despite that breath being filled with smoggy smelly alleyway air.

“Hurry up there shrimp, we still got people lookin for us and your hair stands.” Gajeel urged impatiently in her head and she took another deep breath and nodded.

She peaked her head out the corner but their pursuers weren’t anywhere that she could see. Random people walking by didn’t bother to look at her and if they did it was with disinterest, as if they just happened to catch a glimpse of blue and there eyes were drawn to it and nothing more.

Levy moved into the flow of people walking heading closer to Lucy’s house. She hoped this wouldn’t be a bad idea, that it wouldn’t be under supervision already or worse…

Maybe they were already there and had hauled Lucy away for questioning. Maybe she had resisted not wanting to talk to save her friend and they were torturing her and maybe the torture was so bad but she still wouldn’t give up anything and they killed her and this would still all be-

“You’re gonna make me sick if you keep thinkin this fast.” Gajeel said in her head interrupting her thoughts.

Ya well I’m panicked and you’re not helping the situation. She snapped back at Gajeel and she could feel his surprise. That was the closest thing to aggression that she had shown since he’d joined her.

‘Joined’ Levy laughed in her head as she crossed the street. As if you didn’t just invade my body like a damn parasite! She said getting very cross with him. Gajeel snorted at the word cross then spoke up.

“Yer surprisingly feisty when yer angry aren’t ya.” He shook his head and just as he could see an image of her when he was on the outside, she could see an image of him.

She huffed not wanting to continue arguing but it was hard not to be at some type of understanding when the thing she was arguing with was also in her head.

“Symbiote. I ain’t a thing.” He said with annoyance in his voice.

And ain’t isn’t a proper word. She huffed angrily and a stranger walking by eyed her but moved on with his day forgetting about it.

I swear you talk like a child! Levy said back hotly, her face was flushed red like it would be if she was arguing outwardly only there was no one in front of her and the words were still in her head.

Gajeel didn’t say anything to that, in fact he was trying not to say or do anything at all because he was surprised at the amount of energy his little host had. How much spunk she could muster. He took a moment to again search her memories, looking at them with scrutiny but also speed.

She was a reporter for a online news site. She didn’t appear in any videos there but her name was on many articles and found footage style of videos.

Perhaps his little host was not as much of a coward as he thought.

“I am not a coward!” She said out loud with indignation and blushed quickly looking around, grateful when no one heard it.

I am not a coward. She repeated in her head a bit more calm but still very displeased at the accusation. I’m afraid yes but I am no coward. I’m not used to being hijacked by an alien and on the run from people that want to kill me. I have been in many high risk situations before but I’d had time to prepare for them mentally and physically.

She approached the apartment building that Lucy lived in and punched in the code to get the lobby door to open.

I had no time to prepare for having a passenger in my body. She continued as she went to the elevator and pushed the call button. I was ready for a vial of Ebola or smallpox or something to be behind that restricted door not a goddamn alien parasite!

The elevator bell chimed as if to punctuate her point and she stormed into an elevator as if walking away from an argument. Gajeel, smartly, stayed quiet in her head as she hit the number and the doors closed. Levy simmered as they elevator climbed and she thought nothing, only felt angry.

They reached the fifth floor and Levy got out of the elevator and walked down the hallway towards Lucy’s room.

“Sorry.” He said quietly in her head and that caused her to stop in her tracks.

What? She asked even though it had been in her head maybe she hadn’t heard it quite clearly.

“I said i’m sorry.” Gajeel repeated with sincerity and if not a bit of embarrassment, like a child doing the right thing but afraid it may make him look uncool.

“I didn’t ask if it was okay ta make ya my host and i guess that’s wrong” He said feeling guilty and letting her know of the feeling “but it’d be nice if you’d let me stay because everyone else hasn’t matched with me and I don’t feel like dyin” He finished and Levy considered it for a moment and sighed aloud in the hallway.

I’m sorry too. You’re just trying to stay alive like every other living thing. She said her anger fizzing out. and you did save my life twice, once by getting us out of the lab, which I’m assuming was you because I don’t remember. He nodded in confirmation as she continued. And again at my apartment so yes, you have my permission to stay.

She smiled a bit feeling the slightest relief from Gajeel and knowing he was concealing most of it from her somehow.

One thing we need though is ground rules though. She said starting to walk again and she could feel Gajeel’s agreement but he didn’t speak up not wanting to cut her off and make her angry again.

Ground rule number one: stop calling me names. My name is Levy. Ground rule number two. I’ll stop screaming as much as I can because I know that bothers you. Ground rule number three. You have to ask before you take control. Ground rule number four… umm…

Her thoughts seemed to run dry on rules for the moment and Gajeel took this opportunity to speak up.

“Sure ta all of em but number one. I like callin ya shorty and shrimp. Gi hi hi.” He laughed in her head and she blushed a bit but more in annoyance.

No, if you call me shorty I’ll keep calling you goo. She countered and she could feel him shrug in her head as she knocked on Lucy’s door.

“Fair trade if ya ask me.” Levy had no rebuttal to that and bit her lip irritated by the situation.

She heard the locks disengage on the door and it pulled open quickly.

“Oh thank God you’re okay!” Lucy said rushing to give Levy a hug.

“Is that Levy?” A voice she recognized shouted from inside the apartment and Levy groaned inwardly.

“What? What’s wrong?” Gajeel asked curiously not sensing a threat.

Levy plastered a smile on her face as a man with orange hair that was tied back behind his head, rushed to the door and hugged both her and Lucy.

My ex-boyfriend. Levy thought back to Gajeel and he quickly went to work searching her memories of the man that was rubbing their shared back, making them both feel awkward. Well more Levy feel awkward.

Gajeel was starting to feel enraged as he went through the memories of the man and how the relationship had ended on a positive note as far as Levy was concerned but was followed by a relentless string of messages, calls, visits, cards. The list went on as he kept finding more memories of Levy’s care for the man fading and becoming more annoyance at a friend. She had never been afraid of him but the dude was being creepy as far as Gajeel was concerned.

Stop it. He’s still my friend even if he’s a bit…. Umm she struggled again for the word.

“Stalker-ish?” Gajeel provided

Clingy. Levy finished as did the hug.

“Come inside!” Lucy said pulling her into the apartment and closing the door.

“What happened?” The man that Levy and now Gajeel knew as Jet asked looking worried.

“I went to the apartment as soon as I saw the footage but they wouldn’t let me in. You’re whole floor was sectioned off.” He said with a hand rubbing her back, still there from the hug. Levy did her best to shift away from it but the entrance way was small and she was stuck with the uncomfortable touch.

“No ya ain’t” Gajeel said and Jet pulled his hand suddenly with a wince.

“What’s on your shirt?” He asked looking at his hand though it was not visibly injured.

“Nothing.” Levy said feigning ignorance though she knew it was her body-mate's doing. She didn’t know if she should be annoyed or grateful.

“Never mind that. Tell us what happened.” Lucy said before Levy could decided. Lucy took her hand leading her over to the couch and sitting her down. She mouthed the word ‘sorry’ to her glancing at Jet when he wasn’t looking. It would seem Jet had shown up on his own and Lucy hadn’t gotten rid of him yet before she showed up.

Lucy held onto her hand giving it a gentle squeeze after they had sat down on the two person couch facing each other. Jet was forced to pull over a footstool to sit on if he wanted to be close to the conversation.

“Well I-” Levy started but didn’t get more than the two words out before she started coughing. She quickly pulled her hands up to her mouth to cover it. She felt Gajeel become oddly still within her body and mind.

What is it? She asked even as she was still coughing. Gajeel said nothing and when Levy stopped coughing and pulled her hand away she instantly mirrored Gajeel’s frozen state.

Her hand was spattered with blood.

_________________________

A.N. Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed! If you have any questions or comments about me, this fanfic, or another one I wrote feel free to send me a message or an ask. I’m always welcome to comments and feedback.

Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon as I now have an idea for where this story is going.

Again thank you all so much for reading and I hope to see you all in the next fanfic! :)

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sagethewolfblooded · 5 years

Text

Fool’s Walk- The Arcana ch.1

also i hope the read more works, because i have never implemented it before in my life

Fandom: The Arcana

Rating: General audiences (will change later)

Warnings: None (yet)

Word count: 4470 words

Characters: Asra, Nadia, Julian, Original Characters

It was a quiet night, a soft snow falling to the ground. The moon left little light. Amongst the hollow, one large, black dog stood. To his sides were two other canines, one much larger than the other. They talked among themselves quietly, not wishing to disturb the peace. Near the edge of the hollow, a shape the same color of the snow appeared. The black dog’s claws slightly pierced the frozen earth. His short cropped ears perked high, golden eyes stared down the newcomer with intrigue. His companions went silent, intrigued.

The white canine approached quickly, his enormous paws scraping snow from the ground as he dragged his paws. His own companions kept a few feet away from him. His white fur, lightly dusted in cold snow, was thick and pristine. He had clearly prepared for this moment. His head held high, his dark eyes filled with intent, he returned the stare. With every crunch of his paws on the snow, the black dog could feel his companion’s worry growing.

The hollow filled with a fear-scent, radiating from the four accomplices. Both leaders held their heads high and let nothing distract them. Finally, the smaller white dog came to a stop. The two continued to stare until the lighter male lowered his head to the ground. He bowed, and it seemed to pain him to do so. The black male stood and returned the gesture.

“I supposed you’ve come to challenge my leadership, Stone?” Asked the larger canine. Both of his companions edged further away from him.

“Why even ask? Why the hell else would I be out here in the cold, to play in the snow?” He shot back. A deep sneer tugged his lips to reveal pristine white fangs. “I’m not a pup anymore, Walker.”

Stone flicked his tail and his two companions dispersed from his sides. Walker’s did the same, joining the others on the sidelines. The four conversed silently, their worried eyes doing the talking.

“If you’re going to do it, then do it. I assume you remember the words, yes?”

Hatred flooded his eyes for just a moment before it dissipated. Stone blew air through his nostrils, causing a plume of vapor to conceal his face. Silence followed the noise, everything seeming to hold its breath.

“I, the White-Stone, Son of the Dark-Sky, challenge you.” Walker dipped his head forward enough for Stone to notice, who quickly caught himself with a sigh.

“I, the White-Stone, Son of the Dark-Sky…and the Bare-Moor, challenge you. I understand that if I lose, you may wish to exile me. You understand that if I win, I may wish to exile you. If these terms are satisfactory to us both, then announce so to the pack.”

“I, the Night-Walker, Child of the Great-Burrow and the Sun-Runner, accept your challenge. We will regroup in the meeting glade with the pack.”

With one last glare, Stone turned and stalked back to the entrance. Without asking to follow, his two companions leapt to their paws to follow. They kept their heads down and made little sound. Walker’s own companions rejoined his side.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Walker. If…if he becomes the new Alpha, nothing will be the same.”

He hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Nothing can stay the same forever, Springer.” A sigh escaped his jaws and he let his head fall. “Even so…his heart is filled with hate and anger. Who knows what he’ll do to gain power.”

Springer paused for a moment before filling the heavy silence.

“I mean…look at his father, what he did. He cheated and payed the price. Stone can’t possibly still be upset over that it’s-..it’s been years! And Faethon didn’t even care about him that much. Or any of his other bastards for that matter…” He shook his red-tinted coat, sending out several small flurries of snow.

Closing his eyes, the alpha tried not to think back to his last challenger, Faethon. A blood-thirsty beast, he had attempted to tear open Walker’s throat during their battle. When he had been disqualified for going against the rules, he later attempted to assassinate Walker while he slept. His punishment was an execution done by public pit. One of his many offspring, Stone witnessed the entire affair and has since kept his anger contained. Until now. It pained Walker to think about.

Both companions enveloped their leader, pushing up gently on his sides in a comforting gesture. Walker allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of warmth for just a moment before he separated from the two. He paced back and forth, kicking up the snow as he walked.

“We’ll be here for you. You know that.” His larger companion murmured. Love shone in Walker’s eyes.

“And I’m glad of it, Bull. The two of you have been by my side for a long time, and I can never tell you two enough how grateful I am for you. Now,” He exclaimed, turning to Bull and Springer. “We can’t wait any longer. Let’s call the pack and get this over with.”

–

Canines of all sizes and colors poured from their warm homes into the cold valley of the meeting glade, some in their human forms with blankets still wrapped tightly around their less-protected skin. Most idly chatted about anything and everything, but a heavy layer of nervousness coated everything in its path. Stone, his bright white coat stark against the shadows he hid himself in, paced angrily.

“Stop stalling, you murderer.” He mumbled under his breath. Each word dripped with poison. “Let’s do it already.”

After what felt like lifetimes, a solo howl split the noise of the pack, silencing everyone. Stone lifted his head with a grin. Anticipation filling his paws, he rippled his muscles and bared his teeth towards the howl. Without waiting another second, he shot from his containment area before coming to a halt at the edge of the gathering circle.

The pack members there moved out of his way, their curious eyes boring into him. He paid them no mind, taking his place marked with an ‘X’ in the snow. Ahead, he could see Walker clear as day. The large dark body of the current alpha threatened to grip his heart with fear, but he waved it off. He had come here to do one thing. Excitement and anticipation flowed through his veins, warming him against the cold of the winter dusk. His two right hands, Bull and Springer approached Stone to face him directly.

“Challenger. We are the-”

“I know damn well who and what you are.” He cut Bull off with a deep growl. “Just tell me the rules so I can get this over with.”

The two exchanged irritated glances before Bull continued.

“Areas that are not allowed to be bitten are: the throat, the stomach, the genitals, and the eyes. Doing so will require an automatic disqualification. You may not leave the ring, doing so is an automatic disqualification. In the event of a disqualification, the current alpha may decide your punishment as they wish, no matter how lax or violent it may be. The fight will be over once an opponent has defaced the other’s pack tattoo, or unless one party is no longer able to fight. If you still wish to continue, please state so. If you do not, there is no shame in turning back.”

Stone could feel the hope pricking the edges of his statement, hoping to intimidate the younger dog into stepping down, but he had come too far now to back down. Puffing out his chest, he stared deep into both of their eyes.

“I accept the challenge.”

“Then, by our call, you may begin.”

–

Everything had happened so quickly. Once Springer and Bull retreated to the sidelines and given the signal, the ring was alive with the sounds of guttural barks and howls, fur flying in all directions. Snow was kicked up in the daze, giving the two fighters the illusion of disappearing. Blood splashed the ground and tainted the snow that was left. Everyone in attendance to the battle for dominance held their breath. They all know how it went the last time.

Time slowed as Walker was slammed to the ground on his back. Stone gripped his chest with his fangs, clearly with no intent to release him. Blood pooled at his paws from a deep wound in his shoulder. Part of his ear had been torn, but he took no notice. Walker’s jaws were widened in an animalistic screech, showing who the clear winner was. His chest glowed brightly under his dark fur, then faded until it no longer shone. Instead, Stone’s chest inherited the glow.

The white dog dropped his opponent, letting him fall to the blood tainted ground. He had won.

“I told you, I TOLD you I would win. I did it. I’m the alpha now.” He growled through gasps of air. “I’m the alpha..”

Walker’s chest heaved in pain as he turned over and pulled himself out from under the victor. He couldn’t look up. He couldn’t meet anyone’s eye. Didn’t need to, he could feel the fear from every angle. Deep in his stomach, he could feel a sharp pain that became more agonizing with each breath. His whole body ached. He refused to turn around, to face Stone.

“I’m the alpha now.” Stone’ voice rung throughout the clearing as he repeated himself for all to hear. “I’m the alpha now, so you know what that means?”

He had lowered his voice so that only he and Walker could hear his next words.

“You’d better run, bitch. I’ll even give you a head start.”

Despite the crying of his body to stop, fear fueled his limbs to run. He looked no one in the eye, said nothing. The further he ran, the tighter he could feel his body becoming. The tight pain of a beast being thrown from the pack. His heart felt full of lead, as if it would fall out of his chest at any moment. Though he couldn’t hear Stone or any of the others giving chase, he knew he shouldn’t- couldn’t- stop.

After hours of fleeing, knowing of only one place to go, Walker found himself at the mouth of a cave. The cavern gave off a heavy wave of magic. This was the only place he could go. Without a second thought, the exiled dog pushed onward into his only hope for safety.

————

My name is Temba, and I’m an apprentice to a wonderful Magician. Who…just so happens to be leaving. Again. To go off to wherever it is that he wanders on nights like this. He’s packing his bag as I close the curtains of the shop, making sure to tuck them neatly together so that it would look neat.

“Do you have to go, Asra?” I ask my master once the curtains are finished. “I don’t feel confident being left by myself.”

He shook his head and shouldered his bag.

“You’re more than ready now Temba. Here, I’ll even give you this.”

I watch curiously as he fishes to the bottom of his bag. Finally, he pulls out a tarot deck, his deck. I can feel the energy coming off of it in waves, comforting my nerves. He held it out to me with a gentle smile on his face as he leaned back on the counter behind him.

“Asra, that’s your tarot deck.”

“Yes it is. And I’m leaving it with you.” He replied, matter-of-factly.

“I can’t take your deck Master- I won’t.”

“You’re still calling me that…” He mumbled. Pulling away from the counter, he started walking to the backroom before turning around and waiting for me. “Why don’t we let the cards decide, then, if they wish to stay?”

He pulled out the closest chair for me then went around the table to take a seat. The deck was sitting in front of my place, so I sat down and started shuffling nervously. Doing readings wasn’t the easiest thing for me to do, but Asra’s kind gaze helped. I laid the cards out on the table in front of him.

He reached forward and tapped a card, asking me to flip it over. I did and was met with the familiar sight of a beautiful fish with wispy fins, joined by three cups. However, it was reversed. The Three of Cups. Asra seemed surprised to see it, but nonetheless looked between me and the card, flicking his hand in an open gesture as if asking me to continue. I focused on the card and could hear- could feel- the meaning tickling the base of my neck.

“Someone from your past will be coming, someone you regret losing. It’s not too late to fix the rift.”

“It’s..not?” Asra said aloud. This is one of the few times I’ve seen him genuinely confused.

“Rejoice with your loved ones.”

I looked down at the card, waiting for more. Nothing came. Instead of dwelling, I look up at Asra to see him contemplating. His mess of white hair covered most of his face as he leaned forward on his hands.

“Asra?”

He started, his purple eyes widened as if he remembered that I was there. Before he could speak, there was a loud and frantic knocking at the door. With that, he rose from the table and picked up his scarf and hat. From her hiding spot, Faust slithered over to him and climbed up his leg to rest on his shoulder.

“Just as well, I can’t stay any longer. I’ll be back. Soon. I promise.”

His hand felt heavy on my shoulder as he left through the back door. Just then, I was reminded of the guest at the door by another round of hurried knocking.

Rushing to me feet, I approach the door and ponder for a moment who would be at our door this time of night. At first I thought I had forgotten to turn out the light, but the voice behind the wood snuffed it out.

“I know you’re in there, magician!”

It sounded so familiar, so commanding. Hurriedly I yank the door open, only to be greeted by a sight I’ve only ever heard whispers of. A beautiful woman with dark skin entered the shop, pulling back her purple scarf to reveal a face that I would have never thought would be seen this side of Vesuvia. It was the Countess.

“Forgive me for the lateness, but I could not bare another sleepless night.”

I take it that my face must have betrayed my feelings, for the Countess laughed. It was a light, heavenly sound. The dark blush that flooded my face surely would have been teased by Asra had he still been here. Composing myself, I straighten up and gave a smile.

“Countess! I…would be lying if I said I had expected you to come to the shop. What could I possibly do for you, tonight?”

“As I said, I could not take one more night without proper rest.” She walked with such grace the rest of the way inside, the click of the door as it closed was lost to me. “Funny, you look different than I had imagined in my dreams.”

Her…what? Dreams? I guess my mouth must have made me look like a fish the way I kept opening and closing it without a sound, for she gave another small laugh.

“I know what the people believe I think of those in your line of work, but something about you feels different.” She hesitated on ‘different’ as if it wasn’t the word she wanted to use. “But nonetheless. I would like to propose something to you. However, in return, I have questions for your cards. I would like a reading, and after that…I will discuss my end.”

She wanted a reading? A reading, of all things? Shaking my head of any other thought I may have had, I sweep my arm gently through the air to gesture to the back room.

“I can do that for you, Countess. This way please.”

As she passed me to enter the room, I got a hint of jasmine. She took the seat I had sat in moments before, and I took Asra’s. I again grabbed the deck and began shuffling, trying to keep my eyes anywhere but on the Countess. Reading the cards was far from my strong suit, but something so simple as shuffling them was the bane of my existence. If I even looked at the Countess, I was afraid I’d drop every single card. Her eyes were on me, I knew even without looking. But they didn’t feel scrutinizing as I had expected, rather they felt curious. Searching. It was almost comforting.

With the deck properly shuffled, I laid the cards before her. As my fingers slid over each card, I could feel their familiar hint of magic pulse underneath. I waited for her to pick a card, sparing a glance at her. Red eyes were concentrating on the cards, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. Suddenly her eyes flickered up to me, glistening with silent laughter as I quickly looked away. A slender arm rose to gently tap a card.

I slipped it over and was greeted by the sleek face of The Magician. I felt my shoulders sag in relief, though I don’t know why.

“How appropriate. And what might they hold for me?” Her lips rose at the edges in a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

I swallowed thickly and focused on the card. The Magician’s voice was and wasn’t in my head, in my ears. I could see the words in my head along with a voice, but it was in a language unheard.

“You have a plan. One that’s important to you.”

Before I could say much more, the Countess interrupted me.

“And? Should I set it in motion?” She leaned forward on her hands, like a perched bird watching its prey. I wriggled in my seat.

“Yes. Now is the time to act. Everything has fallen into place.”

“Say no more.”

Abruptly she stood and left the parlor, striding into the main room of the shop. I cleaned the cards up as best I could- leaving them a mess, really, but I’d clean it up later anyway- and followed her into the front. Wringing my hands nervously, I looked up at her as she covered her head once again in her shawl.

“I would appreciate it if you were to join me tomorrow at the palace. You will be my guest of highest honor, anything you need will be provided. All I require after that is your continued cooperation.”

She stood for just a moment longer before I realized I should probably open the door. Nervously, I skittered past her to pull on the handle, using its size to conceal me from the Countess and any further embarrassment. Another smile lifts the Countess’s lips, but this one is clearly genuine.

“I thank you, shopkeep. One again, I apologize for the lateness of my intrusion. I will see you tomorrow.”

And with that, she was gone. I weakly pushed on the door and let out a heavy sigh. It never felt so awkward to do a reading for someone, let alone someone of such high status. I leave the front room to retreat back to the parlor once more only to be greeted by an elongated shape. A flash of auburn hair topped the shape, pulling it together as a human shape.

I must have gasped or made my presence known in some way because the person turned around. Based on his expression, he must have been just as surprised as I was to see someone in the back room. His shock was quickly replaced with a dashing smirk as he leaned forward on the table. His right hand sat atop a plague doctor’s mask with red glass covering the eye holes.

“Ah, hello there, witch. Where is your master?”

I took a shaky step back and licked my dry lips. The man rose and took one step towards me. Because of his long stride, he was almost right in front of me. My hands instinctively searched for something to protect myself with. Nothing was within range, causing my mind to race. I had to think of something, and fast.

“Now, now, no need to be so hasty-”

I kick out a leg to catch at his knee. It connected and dragged him down like a falling tree. The cough that came out of him when he finally fell to the ground almost made me feel bad. In his moment of pain, I searched frantically for something, anything, to use as a weapon. I grabbed an empty bottle that once held a tonic and pointed it at the man. His face was familiar, but I couldn’t recall where I had known him. It tickled my brain trying to think of it.

“You sure do have some fight in you, huh? Well lucky for you, I’m not here for any of this.”

He stood up confidently, moving his mask around in his hands. Long fingers fiddled with the straps on the back while others tapped along the beak. Like a bird, his predatory gaze watched me.

“I’m here for the cards.”

His voice sounded familiar, too. The way his mouth moved when he pronounced words was familiar, why was it so familiar-wait. The cards?

“The…cards? You want them?”

‘Of course he doesn’t want them. If he did, he would have snatched them while we were busy with the Countess.’

“A reading, I mean. You can do that, can’t you?” He tilted his head to the side, almost like a cat.

I lowered the bottle and squinted my eyes, trying to remember anything I knew about this man. The way he looked at me asked if I had heard a thing he said.

“Who exactly are you?” I asked, choosing my words carefully and slowly. The way he blinks at me shows that he hadn’t anticipated me asking it.

“Why do you need to know, shopkeep?”

“I have to know in order to read the cards for you.”

His facial expression was priceless, as if he hadn’t expected me to seriously read the cards for him. I’m curious to see what happens. If I do what he says, he may leave without causing any harm for either of us. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, debating on telling me or not.

“Julian Devorak.”

The way he said it and tensed up as he did made me think that he had expected me to react to it, but I didn’t. Instead, I waved a hand for him to enter the back room. Confusion overtook his features before he waved it off. Pushing aside the curtain to the parlor once more, he bowed low and mocking.

“Magicians first~”

“What a gentleman.” I deadpanned as I past, causing a grin to spread on his face.

He took a seat across from me and watched with curiosity as I gathered the cards up from the previous reading and reshuffled them. My limbs felt tired and heavy from doing so many readings this quickly- it was normally Asra who did them for customers- but I kept on. Occasionally I would look up at Julian while I shuffled, only to catch him staring at me. He’d give a cheeky grin and would continue staring until I finally finished shuffling. Nervously, I spread the cards out in front of us.

“Pick a card.”

“Any card?” His eyebrows raised in jest, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“No, you can only choose a certain pattern- yes any card!”

His amusement was contagious, as was his laugh. I felt more at ease now, sinking into the plush chair as I waited for his pick. Black gloved fingers hovered over several cards before he finally stopped on two, side-by-side. He would hesitate over one before switching to the other, then would hesitate on it and go to its neighbor again instead. His other hand was clutching the headpiece of his outfit, the mask, and was rhythmically tapping on one of the glass eyes. I wondered if he could feel my impatience, because he glanced up only to stare back at the cards immediately once he noticed I was watching.

Finally, he chose a card. I reached forward to flip it over. Death. Its horse skull centerpiece looked oddly bright tonight, but I brushed it off.

“Death.”

I could feel the beginning of its words tickle my head, but it was cut off by Julian’s eruptuous laughter. I was startled as he stood, suddenly towering over me. It wasn’t long before he stormed out the curtain door to the front room. He was saying something, but I couldn’t catch most of it until I was standing in the room with him.

“She has no interest in an abomination like me.”

It seemed like it was the end of whatever little tangent he went on. He reattached his mask with a flourish, strapping the bands and buckles around his tousled red head. Gripping the door handle, he turned to me one last time.

“You’ve been hospitable, so I’ll let you in on a secret. Your witch friend will be back for you. He’s taught you his tricks. You may even say that he cares for you. But when he returns…” He hesitated on his words. Even without seeing his eyes, I could tell he was tossing his next words around in his head. “Seek me out. For your own sake. That creature is far more dangerous than you know.”

He lept into the street, and I followed. I stood on the shop’s steps and stared after him.

“Well, the time is late and it would appear that I’ve overstayed my welcome. Adieu!”

Then he was gone. I’m not even sure where he went, he just…vanished. I take another moment before shaking my head and checking the lantern to be sure it’s off. It’s too late for this. I reenter the shop and make my way to the back room one last time- hopefully- to clean up the cards. Luckily, no one is there and no one began pounding on the door. After the cards are cleaned up and stored in a safe space, I climb the stairs to the living area above.

I have never been so happy to see the bed. Sleepily, I drop onto the plush mattress and melt into the dozens of pillows and blankets. Anything else that had to be done can be done tomorrow. Without any sort of hesitation, I drift right off to sleep.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana julian #the arcana nadia #the arcana asra #the arcana apprentice #fan apprentice #wolf #werewolf #weredog #dog #beast #oc #writing #the arcana headcanons #the arcana writing #the arcana story

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rose-gold-romantic · 6 years

Text

Fidelity: Chapter Three

A Loki x reader that takes place during Avengers: Infinity War. Follow-up fic to Tesseract, Lokasenna, and What Heroes Do.

I WOULD LOVE FEEDBACK! Want to be tagged in updates? Let me know!

@malignentmac @fandomsfanman @i-am-supermerwholoked221b @markusstraya @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @pandaqua @person-born-winchester

We fastened ourselves into the pod, breaking free of the larger ship. Thor sat in silence, closing his eyes. I sat next to him, patting his back gently. Thor let out a large sigh, turning to me.

“I can’t believe that he’s really gone this time.” He whispered, his voice ragged. “As much as he has fooled me in the past, as much as he’s lashed out in response to his slights, both imagined and valid, I would be a fool and a liar to say that I don’t miss him dearly.”

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered in return, giving him a gentle side hug as tears rolled down both of our faces. “I can only imagine what you must be going through after what happened on the ship. So many of your people...”

“Our people.” Thor corrected, “You have every bit as much of a right to call Asgard your home. You lived there, learned there…” he placed his hand on my knee. “You also are my brother’s beloved. I can’t thank you enough for being the constant in his life that he needed. I had seen so much change in him since meeting you, and though he would relapse, he always came back around. Especially when it was important. He truly loved you. You are my family, and the only family I have left in this world, until I reach Valhalla. I am grateful to have you by my side.”

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.” I said, smiling through my tears. “You deserve vengeance for the destruction of everything you fought so hard to preserve.”

“We both do.” He said, squeezing my shoulder, running his hand along the curve of a horn on Loki’s helm as he stood up.

“Rabbit, do you know where we need to go?”

“No.” Rocket responded. “It would be fantastic if you could give me the heading, your burliness.”

Thor moved over to give Rocket directions, and I sat back in my chair, slowly rubbing the helm with my thumb. My heart ached, and I felt hollow. The sickening sound of Loki’s neck breaking repeated in my ears over and over, each time strengthening my resolve. I would find Thanos, and with Thor’s help, I would end him.

“I am Groot.” the tree said, looking to Rocket.

“Tinkle in the cup.” Rocket replied. “We’re not looking for… Everybody’s seen your twig!”

“I am Groot!” Groot responded angrily.

“You can pour what’s in the cup out in space,” Thor replied. “Then go in the cup again.”

“You speak Groot?” Rocket asked, shocked.

“Yes, they taught it on Asgard.” Thor replied, “It was an elective.”

“I never got around to learning that.” I grumbled.

“It wasn’t commonly taught,” Thor said, “At least not to the public.”

“I am Groot?” Groot whined.

“You’ll know when we’re close.” Thor said, staring off into the vastness of space. “Nidavellir’s forge harnesses the blazing power of a Neutron Star. It’s the birthplace of my hammer; it’s truly awesome.”

Thor walked to the back of the ship, and Rocket sighed. “Ok, time to be the captain.” he grumbled, placing the ship on auto pilot. “So, dead brother, huh? That can be annoying.”

“Well, he’s been dead before.” Thor replied, “But this time… I think it really might be true.”

“And you said that your sister,” Rocket continued, “And your Dad…”

“Both dead.” Thor sighed.

“But, still got a Mom, though?” Rocket asked, trying to remain optimistic.

“Killed by a Dark Elf.” Thor replied.

“Best friends?”

“I have one left. The other was stabbed through the heart in front of me.” Thor said quietly.

Rocket’s face winced, “You sure you’re up for this particular murder mission?”

“Absolutely.” Thor said, his resolve strong. “The rage, vengeance, anger, loss, regret, they’re all tremendous motivators. They truly clear the mind.” He said, smiling slightly before adding, “So, I’m good to go.”

“Yeah, but this is Thanos we’re talking about,” Rocket countered, “he’s the toughest there is.”

“Well, he’s never fought me.” Thor said.

“Yes he has!” Rocket said, exasperated.

“Well, he’s never fought me TWICE.” Thor clarified, and I shook my head. “And, I’ll have a new hammer, don’t forget.”

“Well, it’d better be some hammer.” Rocket muttered.

“You know, I'm 1,500 years old. I've killed twice as many enemies as that, and every one of them would have rather killed me, but none succeeded.” Thor said. “I'm only alive because Fate wants we alive. Thanos is just the latest in a long line of bastards, and he'll be the latest to feel my vengeance. Fate wills it so.”

“...and what if you’re wrong?” Rocket asked.

“If I’m wrong, then…” Thor trailed off.

“What more could we lose?” I finished.

“I could lose a lot. Me, personally. I could lose a lot. ” Rocket muttered under his breath. “Ok. Well, if fate does want you to kill that crapsack,” Rocket added, walking up to his bag in the cockpit, “you need more than one stupid eyeball.”

Rocket handed Thor a small object, and Thor examined it.

“What’s this?” Thor asked, turning the object over to view it better.

“What does it look like?” Rocket responded, “Some jerk lost a bet with me in Contraxia.”

“He gave you his eye?” Thor asked.

“No, he gave me 100 credits.” Rocket replied, “I snuck into his room later that night and stole his eye.”

Thor removed his eye patch, grimacing as he slid the replacement animatronic eye into place.

“Thank you, sweet rabbit.” Thor said.

“I would have washed that.” Rocket warned, then muttering under his breath something that I could not hear.

We pulled out of hyperspace, slowing down as we approached what looked like a space station floating slowly.

“Hey, we’re here!” Rocket said, pointing to the station.

“I don’t think this thing works.” Thor said, smacking the side of his head in an attempt to right the new eye, “Everything seems dark.”

“But it ain’t the eye.” Rocket said.

“Something’s wrong.” Thor said, leaning closer to get a better view. “The star’s gone out. And the rings are frozen.”

We landed in one of the frozen rings, cautiously leaving the pod to explore. The entire place seemed deserted, a long, empty room filled with unused weapon molds, the floor littered with hundreds of scraps and other pieces of metal.

“I hope these dwarves are better at forging than they are at cleaning.” Rocket said, kicking a small scrap that was by his foot. “Maybe they realized they live in a junk pile in the middle of space.”

“The forge hasn’t gone dark in centuries.” Thor said, his tone foreboding.

I froze in my tracks, my eyes fixated on a mold in front of me. Rocket glanced up, seeing the weapon mold that I was so focused on.

“You said Thanos had a gauntlet, right?” Rocket asked, getting Thor’s attention.

“Yes. Why?” Thor replied, turning to look at the raccoon.

“Did it look anything like that?” Rocked said, pointing to the mold.

“Get back to the pod.” I whispered, my entire body tensing.

“If that’s the gauntlet mold…” Rocket said, “Where are all the people that made it?”

“That’s what I want to know.” Thor said. “Eitri would be the last one to want to leave this place, but I see no sign of anyone being here at all.”

Without warning, Thor was tossed across the room, a giant’s arm swinging down as they tried to send us flying as well.

The giant marched towards Thor, fists raised.

“Eitri, wait!” Thor yelled, wincing as the giant prepared to punch, “Stop!”

“Thor?” Eitri asked, confused. “Thor is that really you?”

After a pause, the giant backed away, sliding down to sit against a wall.

“What happened here?” Thor asked.

“You were supposed to protect us.” Eitri breathed. “Asgard was supposed to protect us.”

“Asgard has been destroyed.” I said, moving over to stand by Thor.

“Eitri,” Thor asked softly, “What did you do?”

“300 dwarves lived on this ring.” Eitri began, “I thought if I did what he asked, they’d be safe. I made what he wanted. A device capable of harnessing the power of the stones. And he killed everyone anyway. All, except me. ‘Your life is yours.’ he said, ‘but your hands, your hands are mine alone.’” the dwarf held up his hands, which had been turned to solid metal by the Titan.

“Eitri, this isn’t about your hands.” Thor said, “Every weapon you’ve ever designed, every axe, hammer, sword, it’s all inside your head. Now, I know it feels like all hope is lost…” Thor looked over to me, before returning his gaze to Eitri, “Trust me, I know. But together, you and I, we can kill Thanos.”

The dwarf sat for a long time, staring at his metal hands. With a sigh, he stood up slowly.

“Come with me.” Eitri said, “I have exactly what you need.”

The dwarf led us to a long table and he hauled out a large, rectangular box, that seemed to be made of stone.

“This is the plan?” Rocket said, gesturing to the large mold that had been placed on the table. “We’ll hit him with a brick?”

“It’s a mold.” Eitri said angrily. “A King’s weapon. Meant to be the greatest in Asgard. In theory, it could even summon the Bifrost.”

“Does it have a name?” I asked, looking at the intricate designs in the outside of the mold.

“Stormbreaker.” the dwarf replied.

“Yea.” Rocket said, “It’s a bit much.”

“So, how do we make it?” Thor asked.

“You’ll have to restart the forge.” Eitri said, “Awaken the heart of the dying star.”

“Rabbit.” Thor said, “Fire up the pod.”

#loki #loki x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #romance #slow burn #infinity war #marvel #iw #stormbreaker #thor #tesseract #lokasenna #what heroes do

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avengers-nextgen · 6 years

Text

The Rise Of The Lost IV

Bianca shivered in the cold confines of her cell. The surgery had been finished but no one had bothered to provide any pain relief. The girl was stuck laying on her stomach. Any form of movement brought tears to her eyes and tugged at the fragile stitches trailing her spine.

Bianca had no idea how long she’d been unconscious for again. If it was her luck maybe a day. The soldier knew, however, that her pain would not stop Dr. Strauss from her work. There was always room for improvement, first the arm for aesthetic effect, then the spine, what else?

The grating of a lock releasing was followed by footsteps and a white lab coated individual. “We have finishing touches, my dear.”

Bianca could only grunt out a response of pitiful protest.

“To your feet soldier.” With a set of gloved hands Bianca was slung to a standing position. Pain mirroring the sensation of burning alive made her vision dot with white spots.

Bianca’s knees buckled and the doctor was forced to support most of her weight. The shuffle through dim lit hallways was slow. Spotting the same metal table as before sent a flurry of panic through the soldier, but she could not flee. Physically-it was impossible.

Swallowing the grief already settling in, Bianca followed the normal procedure. With extremely slow and gentle movements the girl stripped from her uniform. The air, cold to the skin, burned tender bits of unhealed flesh.

— — —

Bucky didn’t get far when Siyanda caught up to him. “What do you want?”

“You need tnis.” The teenager held up a small earpiece. “Chances are she is being experimented on. If you interrupt the process it could cause permanent damage. I will have to walk you through the proper procedures to make sure you both make it out alive.”

Bucky contemplated the device before plucking it from Siyanda’s fingers. “Have someone ready to evacuate us.”

“Understood.” Siyanda nodded.

“Chances are you’re going to need a good pilot.” Both of the heroes turned in surprise to see Orion dressed in a flight suit.

“You are supposed to be in the infirmary.” Siyanda scowled.

“I’m tired of being pent up.” Orion shrugged. His slender fingers tugged anxiously at leather gloves. “Besides, my uncle rocket got experimented on without his consent. I’m not letting that happen to anyone else. You tell me where I need to be and I’ll be there.”

— — —

Bucky was putting a lot of faith in two teenagers. To be honest it worried him, but there was little else to be done. Equipped with hidden weaponry the soldier set on a determined path through the New York streets.

Each second that passed was a longer opportunity for Bianca to slip through his grasp. He couldn’t explain the protective instincts flaring in him. He had hardly talked to the girl and she’d made it quite clear he was nothing more than a monster to her.

Yet, here he was. About to take on an unknown enemy by himself. Bucky supposed that no matter what, all fathers had some attachment to their children whether they’d known them forever or not. Just looking at Bianca was like looking in a mirror and he’d be damned if Bianca was subjected to torture because of his own creation as a weapon.

— — —

The armory was non threatening on the outside but underneath was a rat’s maze of systems. Getting inside wasn’t an issue-as an assassin Bucky knew every trick in the book when it came to accessing off limits places.

Beneath the armory floor (which now was a ceiling) Bucky began to traverse the cold and dank tunnels. Faint lights flickered overhead like clumsy beacons. The atmosphere was charged with tension despite the silence.

A scream shattered the air. Bucky’s first instinct was to cover his ears but his heart leapt in his throat and he began to run. Drawing the pistols from his belt his boots slammed heavily on the concrete.

A camera blinked to life as he emerged into a small chamber. Without another look the device was shot. It exploded in sparks and its guts hung out in fritzing wires. As soon as the camera died an alarm began to wail overhead.

“Looks like a party is about to happen.” Bucky grumbled. “I didn’t know they celebrated father’s day.”

Setting his jaw the soldier tore on through the next passageway. Behind him were the sounds of heavy breathing and thick soled shoes slamming on the ground in a hungry pursuit. Metal arm skimming his belt, Bucky pulled out a metallic ring and pressed the center. Tossing it backwards over his head the tunnel flashed in violent blue as electricity incapacitated the enemy. “Gotta thank Natasha for giving me a bunch of those.”

Another scream more pitiful than the last urged him forward. As Bucky rounded a corner-getting closer to the pleading cries an arm jutted outwards close lining him in the neck. If it hadn’t been on sheer adrenaline Bucky would have landed flat, but he used the backwards momentum to turn his fall into a back flip.

Without hesitation Bucky fired at the body of his attacker sending them to the ground in a pool of their own blood.

— — —

“Almost done.” Crowed the false motherly time of Doctor Strauss. Bianca wanted to scream at her that she was lying. Only the stupid muzzle wouldn’t allow it. The metallic device only allowed screams to break through on occasion.

The sound of someone rushing down the opening up ahead brought the doctor’s attention. “Ah, I see you’ve arrived with the medical equipment.”

“Like hell I have.” The voice was gruff and the doctor froze in fear. Bianca located the intruder. Bucky stood with his gun raised and a look of murder on his face. Blood was splattered across his uniform and his eyes glared angrily at the doctor. “Siyanda!”

“Copy!” Siyanda replied.

“You’re going to do everything I say doctor if you want to live.” Bucky studied the lab coated individual carefully. He could tell right away she valued herself too much to consider dying. “Tell me exactly what you’ve done.”

— — —

The process of pausing the final touches to the spinal implants was more painful than continuing on with the procedure. The doctor’s nerves made her hands shake and the retraction of pins and needles was flawed.

Each muffled and pained cry, each twitch of hurt, the labored breathing going suddenly still-it all made Bucky incredibly anxious. Was the doctor even following Siyanda’s instructions? Had Bucky relayed something wrong?

It was only when the restraints holding Bianca in place released that Bucky let out a sigh of relief. The doctor lowered the platform back down to floor level as if it were a table and Bucky was confronted with the true damage done to the girl.

Metallic ridges resembling the vertebra of a spine glinted in the low light. The metal panels shifted and moved in an identical manner to that of her arm and his. Her spine would be able to support an ungodly amount of weight and would be able to handle an unimaginable beating.

“What are your plans with her-“

“Do you know who I am?” Bucky questioned. He barely titled his head to look at the doctor and it was as if she noticed his true identity for the first time.

“Oh-oh my-“ Bucky nodded in recognition as if she’d actually said his name.

“You have two options doctor. The first, you come back with me and face legal repercussions. The second, I kill you right here and now-no one would be the wiser.” Bucky held the gun up to emphasize his point. “No one even knows this place exists.”

The doctor didn’t hesitate to select option one. Bucky scrounged up Bianca’s discarded clothes and returned to her side. She didn’t move, didn’t look at him, her eyes only stared into an emptiness he could not see. She was in shock.

Perhaps it was a mercy.

Bucky was able to dress her without her feeling an ounce of pain. He acted unknowingly like a father whose kid had fallen asleep in the car and had to be carried to bed before changing the child’s pajamas.

With ease the soldier scooped up the quivering girl covered in a light sheen of sweat. The doctor followed close behind. An anxious air radiated off of her and Bucky felt like yelling at her to cut the crap and keep it together. Instead he spoke to Siyanda, “Tell the kid to pull the jet around.”

“Copy that.” Siyanda replied in her clipped and formal tone. The receiver crackled for a moment as the signal shifted.

“I’m outside.” The boy’s voice broke in. “Make it quick. They have some big guns out here.”

“It’s an armory.” Bucky snorted. “Of course they do. Don’t worry it’s all been deactivated.”

“Yeah, I sure hope so. Otherwise I’m about to repeat my crash landing and I don’t think I’m waking up in a cushy hospital bed next to a synthetic green and red robot dad.” All Bucky could think was that Peter Parker would get an absolute kick out of this kid.

— — —

As promised, the jet was hovering tentatively outside with onlookers gawking in awe. Thankfully? They were so impressed by the machine they didn’t notice Bucky or the doctor.

The asphalt grated against the soldier’s boots and the sound was somewhat comforting-until he heard the bang. One second the doctor was walking beside him, the next she was laying on the ground with her brains blown out.

“What the hell was that?” The kid cried.

“No idea but we have to high tail it out of here.” Bucky felt some guilt at leaving the doctor there but he couldn’t risk ending up like that as well. Once safely aboard Bucky settled Bianca on the medical cot. With some general knowledge of medical equipment Bucky began to monitor her vitals. They stabilized after a few IV drips.

Orion remained quiet the rest of the way back home and Bucky didn’t mind it one bit. He sat with his hands clasped watching the poor haggard girl shake. She was curled into an extremely tight, protective ball. The fear etched on her face along with the pain made his stomach clench.

One fateful tear trailed down her cheek. Bucky reached out and his metal index finger skimmed lightly across her cheek to wipe it away.

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iammultifandomaf · 3 years

Text

Chapter 37 - Scarlett

BROTHERHOOD

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12211562/37/

With that, Michendros has walked over to the swamp, bent his wide back and dipped his talon into it. He slowly straightened his back again, his hand curled together and reaching up. The surface of the swamp started to shake and a pile of bones and not fully decomposed bodies emerged from it. Michendros' hand then moved to his right to where the corpses followed and one by one laid down on the ground.

"Oh god," Lydia covered her mouth and nose with her hand, "the hunters did this?"

"I guess so... it must've been the place they ditched them so they wouldn't find a way back to their homes," Stolos said and looked at Mr. Martin whose eyes were tearing up.

"I am sorry that I couldn't find your wife alive," Stolos said with a genuine tone.

"What an irony," Lydia's father laughed through his teeth, "humans did this monstrous thing to Scarlett... and these creatures are showing her kindness."

When Michendros' carefully laid the corpses down next to each other, he looked back at Stolos for help. Stolos understood and walked to him, Lydia and her father followed also because Stolos was the main source of light at this moment. Stolos noticed that and decided to use magic to enlighten the are instead of firebending.

He clasped his hands together, extinguishing the flame and put his hands in the air, creating small balls of light around them.

"Why didn't you do this before, boy?" Mr. Martin asked, thinking that this alternative was more efficient. Stolos shrugged and said: "Didn't want you to see all that stuff we encountered on the way."

"What stuff?!" Lydia shrieked.

Stolos didn't answer, though, and looked up at Michendros who was patiently waiting for his further instructions.

"That one," Stolos said and pointed. Michendros' talon pointed at a skeleton and looked at Stolos for confirmation.

"No, no, the other one," Stolos said.

"You are always so unspecific," Michendros complained and pointed to the skeleton on the right.

"Yeah, that's Scarlett," Stolos said as he fingered the silver ring in his pocket.

Lydia and her father held each other and watched the skeleton who was supposedly their mother and wife being moved from the row of corpses to the opposite side.

Michendros then raised his both hands above the rest of the dead banshees and with that, all of the women's spirits appeared next to their own corpse or skeleton.

One of them who looked visibly older than the other women glanced at Michendros familiarly, knowing what he was. She put her hands together and bowed slighlty in front of him, saying a soft: "Merci."

With that, the spirits disappeared with a similar gush of light as did the previous freckled girl.

"Did they hunt them over the whole world?" Lydia wondered sadly.

"It seems so," Stolos said and turned around to face the other spirit that had appeared next to Scarlett's skeleton. Lydia copied his movement and her eyes widened at the sight.

"Mom?" she asked.

"What? Scarlett?" her father turned around abrubtly and started crying.

"Lydia, sweetheart," the spirit then looked at her alive husband, "Robert, I didn't manage to escape them," she said sadly.

Michendros quietly let the corpses of the other banshees dive into the ground and let a tombstone arise with the women's names. After that, he sat down next to Stolos who was watching his girlfriend and her father to walk closer to their dead relative.

"Scarlett, I- I miss you so much," Robert said and tried to touch his wife, however his hand just passed through her, "why can't I touch you when he could!" he roared angrily. Scarlett looked up at the man and the horrifying creature in front of her and then gazed back at her family.

"Who are they?" she wondered.

"They are the two brothers you warned me about," Robert tried to keep his voice down. Scarlett's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why are they helping you, then? You didn't promise them anything, did you, Bob?"

"You wouldn't guess it, guess who's dating the smaller one," Robert said and gave a strict look to Lydia who blushed.

"Lydia!" her mother gasped, "my baby, why would you?"

"Mom, if it weren't for them, you'd still be in that disgusting swamp and I wouldn't be able to see you."

"That's right, and I am grateful for that. But sweetie, they can be really dangerous... otherwise they wouldn't be feared by so many."

"Well, it wasn't them who murdered you, was it? It was them who found you and...," Lydia couldn't finish her sentence. She wanted to say that they would be able to give her a final rest, but that made her cry again.

"Lydia, Lydia, I know. I just worry about you, I am your mother after all. Just, please, be careful, always, okay? And smart, be smart. And you," she said and looked at Robert,"don't beat yourself up about it. It happened, alright. Don't think of vengance or anything. They are way too good at what they are doing. Lydia needs you to stay alive, Bob."

"How can I let the bastards running around, Scarlett? How can I live with the fact that they killed you and nobody will do anything about it."

"And how would you do it, Bob? You always let your feelings overtake your actions and then don't think the plan through."

"I couldn't help myself but to interrupt," Stolos suddenly said, standing next to them which made all three of the Martins jump up,"firstly, I believe this is yours," Stolos said and took out the silver ring out of his pocket. Scarlett's eyes lightened up at the sight of the ring and looked at Robert. "You kept it all those years? It was my favorite thing, Bob."

"That's why I think you should keep it on you wherever you go," Stolos smiled at her and let the ring float to her palm where he laid it on.

"How can I touch it?" Scarlett thought outloud in surprise.

"Let's say that the God of Death made an exception for you," Stolos said. Scarlett put the ring on with ease, tears flowing down her cheeks. She looked up at the sitting creature in front of them who causally raised his great hand in an awkward wave.

"He's the God of Death?" Robert turned around to see him as well and then he looked back at his daughter. "That's the family you wanna marry into?"

"Dad!" Lydia said in a protestive tone.

"What? My question is genuine. What will you do with them? Have small death-god babies?"

"Jesus christ, dad... I am not dating Mich, I am dating him," she pointed at Stolos who smirked at her.

"So? Are you some god, too, or are you just a random being?"

"Well," Stolos began but Lydia interrupted him, "leave that for later, dad, we have now to be with mom."

"Hm, you're right."

"What did you want to say next?" Scarlett remembered and looked at Stolos once again.

"I know that you're afraid for your husband, however I dislike when someone messes with my loved ones, so I understand Mr. Martin's need to revenge you. Then again, these hunters might be still killing other banshees. Don't you think someone should stop them?"

Scarlett looked down at her ring on her finger and then at her husband who was watching Stolos.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to hurt them," Scarlett said, "but even I was too weak."

"What if I had a skillful son in law?" Robert suddenly said.

"Son in law?" Lydia repeated.

"Well, yeah, look at him, what a competent guy," Robert said with a grin and patted Stolos on his back.

"You quickly changed your opinion on him," Lydia stated.

"Well, his actions really speak for themselves, honey."

"Alright, but don't you let him get hurt!" Scarlett said firmly.

"Wait, wait, are you just talking about killing the hunters?" Lydia had to assure herself.

"Yeah," her mother and father said unanimously. Lydia sent a glare to Stolos, remembering what he told her about his godly influence on other people.

"Come here," Lydia ordered to Stolos who obeyed without a word and followed her. She stopped in front of Michendros who raised his head from his palm that he used to for supporting its weight and looked down at the two.

Lydia looked up at Michendros and directly asked him: "Is this the destructiveness he has as a god or is that just simply him?"

"Uhm," Michendros looked at his younger brother who put his hand around the back of his neck, "I think this is his... normal destructiveness?" Michendros said carefully.

"I am definitely not influencing your parents with anything extra," Stolos said in defense. Lydia looked strictly at the both of them.

"Our reputation is so gruesome because we aren't that friendly sometimes," Michendros said.

"So, your first go to is murder?" Lydia asked and looked at Stolos who approached her slowly and took her hands into his. "Not always the first... but yes, often we chose this option."

"I don't know how I feel about it," Lydia admitted.

"I understand, if you don't want me kill the hunters, I won't."

"God damn it. You're like the devil on my shoulder. Of course I wish them to be dead... but it just doesn't feel like the right thing to do."

"Once you live this long, Lydia, and end up like this," Michendros gestured to himself, "you don't really follow the rights or wrongs of this century's society. We do as we think is right, not asking for permisson nor judgement."

Lydia looked up at Michendros again and said: "And what about... God-God?"

"You mean the Bible fella?" Stolos asked.

"Yeah..."

"Well, if he exists, I've never met him," Stolos said.

"Me neither," Michendros shrugged, "but I think the sea deity told me he saw him once."

"Oh, did he?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there you go," Stolos said. Lydia's face saddened a bit and said: "I know that for you it's something else. But I am just human and I am afraid what could come... if I myself decide what's right and wrong. What if I'll be punished?"

"This sounds like the typical religious thinking," Stolos said, "from what I have seen, people get what they think they deserve. If they believe in a bearded man who'll send them to hell to be punished by a horny red guy, then it will possibly happen to them."

"What?" Lydia said in surprise, "so... you're saying that we alone decide what comes after?"

"Well, kind of, depends on the situation as well," Michendros said, for example these girls, I intervened in their lives, so they got sent where I wanted to," Michendros said, becoming now a bit more comfortable talking when he saw that Lydia got used to his creepy voice.

"Oh, that kind of changes the situation," Lydia realized, "right?"

Stolos laughed heartedly: "I am afraid I drew you to the dark side." Michendros chuckled, too.

"Oh, shut up you and you with this weird ass outfit," she pointed at Michendros' silky tunic.

"Hey, it fits my silky looking wings!" he defended himself.

"What wings? I don't see any."

"Well, I am not flying anywhere, so I don't need to take them out," Michendros explained.

"Show me," Lydia said without hesitation.

"Shouldn't you pay attention to your parents first?" Michendros reminded her.

"You're right," she said guiltily and leaned to Stolos' ear: "Are they really silky?"

Stolos rolled his eyes and said in a pretended annoyed tone: "The feathers alltogether may or may not give out the impression of a soft material, for example silk, yeah."

"You see?" Michendros said, satisfied and pulled his knee closer so he could rest his chin on it.

Lydia returned to her parents who were talking about everything they could before Scarlett had to leave.

"Is everything alright, Lyds?" her mother asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I am sorry, I am back now."

Michendros let them talk some more to catch up but after a while, he rose to his feet and walked over to them. Scarlett looked at him gloomily and asked: "It's time?"

Michendros' head just nodded but didn't do anything yet.

"Remember I love you, alright you two? And don't fight!"

"We love you, too," Robert said sadly and Lydia tried to surpress her tears. Scarlett walked back to her skeleton and looked up to the God of Death who put his talon on her forehead and raised his other hand above her. Her eyes quickly searched for Lydia and Robert and before she went, she managed to form a silent 'bye' with her lips.

#chapter 37 #scarlett #brotherhood #michendros #stolos #lydia martin #robert martin #scarlett martin #fanfic #fanfiction

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displacedhobbit · 3 years

Text

Update - Greater than Gold

AN: Fun fact - this is one of the first chapters I outlined. It’s so crazy to see how my writing style has changed over the years, but this chapter stays mostly true to my original vision.

Warnings: BotFA, y’all. Battle scenes, injuries, goldsick!Thorin

Also on FF.net and AO3

Chapter 29: The Battle of the Five Armies

Word Count (chapter): 7000

“Thorin, this is madness!” Balin whisper-shouts. No one has moved to follow their King’s command to barricade the entrance to Erebor. The Company anxiously looks from one to another, hesitant.

“I want this fortress made safe by sun-up,” Thorin continues, ignoring Balin entirely and staring down the rest of the Company. “This mountain was hard-won. I will not see it taken again. Now, all of you!”

“Thorin,” Kíli starts, taking a step back when Thorin’s sharp gaze whirls to him. “The people of Laketown have nothing. They came to us in need; they have lost everything.”

“Do not speak to me of loss!” Thorin shouts. “I know well enough of hardship. They have survived dragonfire; they should be grateful.”

“You gave them your word,” Fíli interrupts. “I gave them my word. Are you not an honorable king? Does that mean nothing to you?”

Thorin’s eyes narrow. “Things have changed,” he says sharply. “More stone. Bring more stone to the gate!” Again, no one moves. “If you will not obey me, I will charge you with treason and rid this place of you,” he hisses.

Reluctantly, Bombur and Dwalin move to follow his orders, and the rest of the dwarves eventually follow. Fíli is the last to do so, his eyes locked on Thorin’s tense shoulders as his uncle retreats back into the halls. He decides to follow Balin and Bilbo as they gather more debris, throwing stones into a pushcart that, just that morning, they had been using to clear the gate instead.

“We have to do something,” Bilbo murmurs once he’s sure Thorin is out of earshot. “Isn’t there something we can do?” His eyes search Fíli’s before he turns to regard Balin, pleading.

Balin gives them both a sympathetic look. “It’s the goldsickness. I’ve seen it before, with your grandfather, Fili. That look. That terrible need. It is a fierce and jealous love, Bilbo. It drove Thrain mad.” He angrily throws another chunk of stone into the pushcart.

Bilbo hesitates, eyes flicking nervously between the two of them. “Would it...I mean, if we found the Arkenstone...would it help?”

Fíli gasps, catching his meaning, while Balin chuckles sadly. “That stone crowns all. It is the summit of great wealth; bestows power on those who possess it. Would it stay his madness?” He angrily brushes an escaped tear. “No, laddie. I fear it would only make it worse.” He looks sadly to Fíli, knowing full-well that the last hope he and Kíli clung to was that finding the Arkestone would set everything straight in their Uncle’s mind once more.

“Perhaps it is best it remains lost,” Fíli murmurs quietly, and he physically feels the hope drain away from him. There was nothing more they could do, was there? How else could they make Thorin see reason? He had been cruel to everyone, even to Kíli. It had seemed that Thorin had already forfeited his love for his kin and company in favor of the treasure.

Bilbo nods before looking down at his feet. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

They wordlessly return to their task.

-----

He paces along the rampart. He cannot rest. The Arkenstone stays lost to him, and an army of elves sits at his doorstep. They have finished the barricades, but he knows that they do not have the rations to protect Erebor. He has sent word to Dain, but without the stone, his cousin has no reason to answer. If he doesn’t...well. Thorin will die before he lets a speck of his treasure fall to Thrandiul, the treacherous snake.

A lone rider makes their way up the road. He glares at him, watching intently before recognizing him as the man from Esgaroth that had spoken out against him.

“Hail, Thorin, son of Thrain!” the rider calls once he is near to the foot of the mountain. “It is good to find you alive beyond all hope.”

Thorin doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Why have you come to the mountain armed for war?” he shouts, waving his arm at the elven encampment.

“Why does the King Under the Mountain fence himself in like a robber in his hole?” the man retorts, and Thorin feels his ire rise.

“Perhaps because I am expecting to be robbed!”

“My lord, we have no intention of robbing you,” the man says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “We only come to seek fair settlement. A bargain was struck, was it not? Will you not speak with me?”

With a glare, Thorin heads down from the rampart as the man dismounts his horse. He passes by the Company, who watch him anxiously, as he walks to the old guard station where a small window remains unobstructed. “I am listening,” he says curtly. In his periphery, he can see Balin, Kíli, and Fíli hovering at the entrance to the station.

“I only ask that you honor your pledge. We have been left in ruin. We seek only a small portion of the treasure to rebuild our lives,” the man says.

“I will not treat with any man while an armed host sits at my door,” Thorin snaps, ignoring when he hears Balin swear from behind him.

The man sighs. “That armed host will attack if you do not honor your bargain.”

Thorin laughs darkly. “Your threats do not sway me.”

“What of your conscience?” the man implores. “Our children are starving; will you not help them?”

“What aid did the men of Laketown provide my people?” Thorin roars. “When we came to you, starving and in ruins, your ancestors turned us away. Why should we not do the same?”

“You gave us your word!” the man shouts in response. “A bargain was struck -”

“A bargain?” Thorin interrupts. “What choice did we have but to barter our birthright for blankets and food? To ransom our future in exchange for our freedom? You call that a fair trade?” He paces angrily. “Tell me, Bard the dragon-slayer, why should I honor such terms?

Bard steps back, shaking his head in disbelief. “You gave us your word,” he repeats. “Does that mean nothing?

“Begone, before I let arrows fly,” Thorin sneers. “Kíli, to the rampart,” he continues when the man hesitates to move.

Reluctantly, Bard stomps away in anger, cursing Thorin with every step, mounting his horse and retreating to Dale.

Thorin whirls around and narrows his eyes on Kíli. “Did your king not give you an order? To the rampart.”

Kíli glances to his brother before nodding, obediently taking his place along the wall. Thorin pushes past Fíli and Balin to meet the rest of the Company, which watches him with apprehension.

“What are you thinking?” the little hobbit says, eyes alight with anger. “You cannot go to war.”

Thorin walks past him, casting him a dismissive look. “This does not concern you, hobbit.”

Bilbo persists. “Excuse me, but in case you haven’t noticed there are several thousand armed elves out there. Not to mention a few hundred angry fishermen. You are outnumbered.”

Thorin scoffs. “Not for much longer,” he says, pointedly ignoring the confused looks the dwarves shoot at him.

“What does that mean?”

He smirks. “It means, little hobbit, that you should never underestimate dwarves.”

“Thorin,” Fíli interjects. “Let this be. They can have my share of the treasure; that will be enough for them to rebuild. That can be the end of this.”

Rage fills him once more. “This is your birthright,” he snaps. “I will cut you from my line if you cast it away.”

Fíli’s face crumples. “Uncle, we can end this. Now. Please, see reason.”

“They can have my share instead,” Bofur offers, and several others murmur in agreement.

Thorin glares at them. “Is this mutiny? You will have what you were promised.” He whirls around, stomping off in the direction of the armory. “We have won the mountain; now we will defend it.”

-----

Bilbo watches as the dwarves prepare for war. They are sifting through the pieces in the armory, seeing what is still useful, repairing what they can. No one speaks. He doesn’t know what to do; he cannot fight. Sting alone will not protect him from an angry hoard of elves. Perhaps once the fighting starts he will put on his ring and slip away. Perhaps Thorin is distracted enough that he could slip away now.

As if summoned, the King Under the Mountain stands before him. He throws a shiny, silver shirt of chainmail to him. “You’re going to need this. Put it on.”

Obediently, Bilbo removes his jacket and slips the silver shirt over his clothes. It hangs off of him, clearly too large. “I look absurd,” he sighs. “I’m not a warrior, Thorin.”

The king seems to ignore him. “This shirt is made of silver steel. Mithril. No blade can pierce it.”

“Then perhaps it should go to someone who will last longer in the fighting,” Bilbo says darkly.

“It is a gift,” Thorin says, his voice suddenly soft. Bilbo glances up in surprise; he had not heard such warmth in Thorin’s voice since they’d come to the mountain. “A token of our friendship. True friends are hard to come by,” he adds.

But just as abruptly, Thorin’s eyes harden.

“I have been blind, but now I am beginning to see,” he says sharply, eyes frantically roving from one dwarf to the next. “I have been betrayed!”

A lump forms in Bilbo’s throat when Thorin fixes his glare on him. “Betrayed?” he ekes out, fearful that Thorin somehow knows.

His glare shifts back to the company. “One of them has taken it. One of them is false.”

“What?” Bilbo says quickly, wits returning to him. He sees that Thorin’s glare is focused on Kíli, who is fletching as many arrows as he can, deft fingers making quick work.

“Betrayed by my own kin…” Thoin mumbles.

“No, of course not!” he interjects. “Thorin, you made a promise,” he says, shifting the conversation away. “You are one of the most noble and honorable people I’ve ever known,” he admits, and Thorin’s gaze is soft again when it returns to him. “Is this treasure worth more than your honor? Our honor? I was there, Thorin; I gave my word.”

“And it was nobly done; for that I am grateful,” Thorin admits, clapping a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “But this treasure does not belong to the people of Laketown,” he continues, squeezing Bilbo’s shoulder tighter. “This gold is ours, and ours alone.” His tone shifts, becoming dark and foreboding, reminding him of Smaug. “With my life, I will not part with it. Not a single coin.”

Bilbo swallows thickly. He knows what he must do. Tonight. He will go tonight. It is the only thing he can think of that might end this war, that might return Thorin to himself.

And if it doesn’t work, he hopes the battle will take him swiftly.

-----

Atop the wall, Fíli stands close to his brother. They had tried to mend and tailor the armor, but it still looked too big on his little brother. His little brother who wasn’t even of age, who shouldn’t be here.

He bites his lip, remembering the conversation they’d had the night before. Promises that they would watch the other’s back, that they would protect each other. That they would go together, or not at all. Promises Fíli knew they had no control over whether they could keep or not. And this morning, they had embraced each other, both murmuring every term of endearment they had ever heard to the other.

He kicked himself. He had thought of going behind Thorin’s back to try and treat with Bard privately, but Dwalin had talked him out of it. He was too important, could be used as collateral - there was no guarantee that Thranduil wouldn’t return with Fíli’s head on a spit, just to incite Thorin’s ire.

Discreetly, he reaches down and squeezes Kíli’s hand. Thranduil and Bard are nearing the gate.

Thorin whirls around suddenly and snatches Kíli’s bow from his other hand, reaching over him to pull an arrow from the quiver. He fires it in Thranduil’s dorectopm, where it embeds itself in the dirt before his horse.

“The next one will be between your eyes,” he sneers, before shoving Kíli’s bow back against his brother’s chest, giving the unspoken command that he is to kill the elven king if he continues forward. Fíli fearfully watches as Kíli shakily takes a step forward, to stand beside Thorin, pulling an arrow free and raising his bow.

With a smirk, Thrnaduil gives a signal to his men, and Fíli’s heart drops when he sees their archers take aim in the distance.

Thorin growls in frustration, but reaches over to lower Kíli’s bow. Fíli lets out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Thranduil positively grins as he signals for his own men to stand down. “We’ve only come to tell you that the most gracious payment of your debt has been offered and accepted.”

“What payment?” Thorin snaps. “I gave you nothing. You have nothing.” Frantically, Fíli searches for Bilbo, heart sinking when the hobbit gives him a knowing look.

Bard pulls the Arkestone out from under his coat. The morning light gleams off it, sending prisms about, making the dwarves gasp at the sheer beauty of it. “We have this,” Bard says simply.

“Thieves! That is the heirloom of our house,” Dwalin shouts angrily. “That stone belongs to the King!”

“And the king may have it, with our good will,” Bard continues, before slipping the stone back inside his coat. “But first, he must honor his word.”

Thorin howls with rage before turning back to regard the company. “They are taking us for fools,” he sneers. “This is a ruse; a lie. The stone is still within the mountain.”

Bilbo steps forward. “I...it’s not a trick. The stone is real,” he says, eyes flicking nervously between Thorin’s and the floor. “I gave it to them.”

Thorin jolts back like he has been struck. Fíli watches, helpless, as a myriad of emotions flash across his face - hurt, anger, betrayal, despair...he cannot stand it.

“You?” Thorin asks, disbelieving, looking more like a small child before his face hardens into absolute rage. “You would steal from me?”

“I didn’t steal it,” Bilbo says, raising his hands. “I may be a burglar, but I’d like to think of myself as an honest one. No, I...I took it as my fourteenth share.” He hesitates, but keeps his gaze even with Thorin’s. “I‘m willing to let it stand against my claim.”

“Against your claim?” Thorin barks, before dissolving into a dark, humorless laugh. “You have no claim over me, you miserable Shire-rat!” He takes a step toward Bilbo, hands shaking.

“I wanted to give it to you!” Bilbo shouts. “Many times! But…”

“But what?” Thorin snarls, and when he steps toward Bilbo again, Fíli grabs his arm, pulling him back for a second before Thorin wrenches himself free with a shout.

“You are changed, Thorin! The dwarf I met in Bag End would have never gone back on his word,” he explains, voice breaking, eyes shining with tears. “He would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin.”

“Do not speak to me of loyalty,” he hisses angrily, voice dangerously low. “Throw him from the rampart!”

No one moves. “Thorin,” someone says, tone soft and disbelieving.

“Do you not hear me?” Thorin shouts, eyeing the company, settling his gaze on Kíli, who barely shakes his head. “I will do it myself,” he snarls as he steps toward Bilbo once more.

Fíli grabs for his arm again, pulling him back once more, as Kíli rushes forward and pushes back against their uncle’s chest. Thorin’s arms flail wildly, eventually freeing himself from Fíli’s grasp and shoving Kíli roughly to the ground.

“I curse you!” Thorin shouts as he grasps Bilbo by his coat, and Fíli can hear the deep hurt in his voice.

“Thorin, no!” Kíli yells as he begins to drag Bilbo to the edge.

“Cursed be the wizard that brought you to my company!”

Suddenly there is a bright light, and a voice booms out. “If you do not like my burglar, then please return him to me.”

Thorin roughly shoves Bilbo to the ground, whirling around to regard their visitors once more. “You,” he snarls, recognizing Gandalf now joining Bard and Thranduil. “You orchestrated all of this, didn’t you? Never again will I have dealings with wizards!”

“You’re not making a very splendid figure as King Under the Mountain, are you?” Gandalf asks.

With Thorin distracted, Fíli sees Bofur help Bilbo back to his feet. “Go,” he hisses under his breath. “Get him out of here!” he says to Bofur, eyes pleading. It’s not a moment later that Bilbo is using a rope to climb down the rampart, fleeing from Erebor.

Fíli reaches down to help Kíli stand as well, pulling him back, away from Thorin, positioning himself between his uncle and his brother.

“Fee,” Kíli says softly, and he feels Kíli’s hand grip the arm of his sleeve.

“Are we resolved then?” Bard calls out. “The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised to our people.”

Thorin says nothing, but Fíli can see how his shoulders shake with rage.

“What say you, King Under the Mountain?” Bard tries again. “Give us your answer. Will you have peace or war?”

A large black crow flies in front of the rampart, landing before Thorin.

He laughs. “I will have war.”

“Fíli,” Kíli calls from behind him, and Fíli turns to regard his brother. Kíli is absolutely terrified, and he can see the sheen of tears in his eyes. Without hesitation, he presses their foreheads together, hand squeezing the nape of his neck.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, but he knows Kíli doesn’t believe him. He doesn’t believe himself.

Then, from behind him, there is an uproarious shout, and Thorin’s laughter grows even louder. Fíli turns to see another army ascending the hill, led by none other than Dain.

-----

Dwalin paces angrily, like a caged animal. And they were, weren’t they? Trapped within the mountain as the sounds of battle raged outside. He couldn’t believe Thorin’s cowardice. Dain’s army, their kin, who had come to their aid, now faces an onslaught of orcs and other foul creatures, and Thorin wanted them to sit here and wait.

“Let them fight amongst themselves,” he had said, before disappearing into the halls once more.

He’d had enough; with an angry huff, he treks through the halls to find Thorin, easily finding him sitting on the throne, Thrain’s crown atop his head, staring at nothing.

“Since when do we forsake our own people?” he shouts as he approaches the throne, not bothering to hide his anger. “Thorin, they are dying out there.”

“There are holes beneath holes beneath holes within this mountain,” Thorin mumbles, seemingly ignoring him. “Places we can fortify. Shore up; make safe. Yes; yes that is it,” he says. “We must move the gold further underground to safety.”

“Did you not hear me?” Dwalin calls again, standing directly in front of Thorin now. “Dain is surrounded. They are being slaughtered, Thorin.”

Finally, Thorin looks up at him, and Dwalin can see the madness in his eyes.

“Many die in war; life is cheap,” Thorin says, sounding weary. “But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend.”

Dwalin steps back, mouth agape. “Is it? Is it worth my blood? Fíli’s? Kíli’s? You sit here in these halls with a crown upon your head, and you are lesser to me now than you have ever been.”

Thorin’s eyes narrow. “Do not speak to me as if I were some...some lowly dwarf lord,” he says, getting to his feet, though he staggers a bit, as if drunk. “As if I were still just...Thorin Oakenshield. I am your king!”

“You were always my king!” Dwalin shouts, unashamed of the tears that are in his eyes. “You used to know that once.” His voice breaks. “You cannot see what you have become.”

Thorin’s brow furrows in confusion, and for a moment, he thinks that maybe, just maybe he has gotten through to him. “Go,” Thorin utters darkly. “Go now, before I kill you.”

He doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t trust that Thorin won’t make good on his threat. Dwalin scoffs softly, shakes his head sadly as a few tears slip loose, then he turns to take his leave of Thorin and rejoin the Company.

-----

He stares at Dwalin’s retreating back, his oldest friend’s words echoing through his mind.

You are lesser to me now than you have ever been.

He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Dwalin was wrong. It was he who could not see; Thorin had been betrayed, it was him who had been wronged. Dain had only brought his own men so that he could stake his own claim to Erebor, he was certain of it. With the Arkenstone in the hands of men, Dain could easily take it, and all would be lost, lost, lost. It was better to let the orcs and elves take them out; it was better to let them all kill themselves so that Thorin would be the last standing, and he could reclaim the Arkenstone.

Is it worth my blood?

How could he even ask that? Dwalin knew what he had agreed to when he joined the Company. They had talked of nothing other than reclaiming their homeland since their youth, and now Dwalin doubted whether it was worth it? Of course it was. He must just be frightened; that is the only explanation. He staggers to his feet, walking aimlessly to try and recenter his thoughts. His head throbs. Maybe he was making a mistake. He feels sick.

Fíli’s? Kíli’s?

His wandering carries him to the Gallery of Kings, over the freshly-cooled floor of gold. He smiles, seeing his reflection in it, admiring how kingly he looks with the crown atop his head. No, no; he was right. Would it hurt to lose the boys? Of course, but if that were the price of this treasure...he could pay it.

But then he remembers...remembers the first time he’d held Kíli in his arms as a tiny, newborn dwarfling. How terrified he had been at the thought that he might not survive the winter. How he had almost lost him in battle before. How his heart had once shattered at the mere thought of a world without Kíli. And now...now it was an acceptable price? He could live in a world without Kíli’s warm smiles, without his touches and embraces that lasted just a touch too long? Was it worth that?

He stares down at his reflection on the golden floor. It feels like his boots are sinking in, like thick mud, trapping him.

And Fíli...Fíli who had followed him into this mess, who had trusted him implicitly his entire life. Was it worth his life? Smart, responsible, Fíli, who had never failed him, who had always pushed himself to the brink to please Thorin, who had taken every additional, impossible responsibility that Thorin had thrust upon him with grace and humility. Fíli, who made him stronger, who made him better. It...the gold...it was worth losing that. Wasn’t it?

The gold seems to pull him in deeper, no longer solid, but molten. Pulling him down, down, down...suffocating him, crushing him…

With a gasp, he rips the crown from his head and throws it aside, the room returning to normal as it clinks across the floor. He struggles to regain his breath, the realization of what he’s done, what he’s gambled washing over him.

It wasn’t worth it. None of it.

-----

“I don’t care what Thorin says,” Dwalin says, pacing the room once more. “I am not staying here and letting Dain’s army die for...for this.” He gestures around the hall, hands shaking. “I would rather die out there.”

Balin gives Fíli a knowing look. “Perhaps it is time to continue down the line of succession,” he says evenly, though there is a glimmer in his eyes. “Thorin’s mind is far afield. He is lost to us now. We can not give him more time to come to his senses; not without leaving our kinsmen to die.”

Fíli sucks in a deep breath, catches Kíli’s eye. He knows it’s the right thing to do. He knows, but his heart aches. He was never meant to be king without learning under Thorin’s rule first. Then Kíli looks away, focusing at something behind his shoulder as he gets to his feet.

He turns, and spies Thorin returning to the entry hall, sword drawn. It would not surprise him if Thorin had overheard, if he were coming to accuse the Company of treason. He prepares himself for a fight, gathering every bit of confidence he has as he approaches Thorin.

“Thorin,” he starts, fighting to keep his voice strong. He can feel Kíli’s comforting presence behind him. “I will not hide behind a wall of stone while others fight our battles for us. It is not who I am - who we are,” he says, gesturing to the Company behind him. Closer now, he can clearly see Thorin’s face; he looks almost...normal? Like himself. Hope renews itself in his chest; he thinks he might burst into tears at the sight. “It is not in my blood,” he finishes, voice breaking, relief flooding him when Thorin smiles. Not the crazed, manic smiles of days past but a real, genuine smile. His uncle’s smile.

“No, it is not,” Thorin agrees. “We are sons of Durin, and Durin’s folk do not flee from a fight.” He reaches out and grabs Fíli’s nape, touches their foreheads together tenderly. “I am sorry that I forgot myself,” he whispers.

Fíli’s withheld sob breaks through. “Uncle,” he murmurs, returning his embrace.

“I am so sorry,” Thorin murmurs again as he pulls his head away, before reaching for Kíli and dragging his tearful brother into their embrace. “I love you; the both of you,” he whispers fiercely. “More than any treasure within this mountain. I swear it.”

Fíli doesn’t want to let go. While he knows the battle may very well take them, it sits so well within his soul that Thorin has returned to them. That he had found peace, that he had remembered himself. That he had remembered them.

Eventually, Thorin takes a deep breath to steady himself, then separates himself from the lads to regard the Company. “I have no right to ask this of any of you,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “But, will you follow me? One last time.”

He’s met with roars of celebration from the Company, before being embraced by each of them in turn.

All too soon, they are focusing on the task at hand. They must bring aid to Dain’s men, even if there are only 13 of them. It’s quick work for them to get armored up, to get their weapons in order.

“Fee,” his brother calls from behind him. When he turns to regard him, he’s struck once more by how young Kíli looks. He prays to Aule that they will make it out of this alive. He hasn’t forgotten Kíli’s oath. He hasn’t forgotten his purpose as the spare. He knows Kíli hasn’t, either. He knows that if he or Thorin are in danger that Kíli would protect them with his last breath, with every ounce of strength that he could muster. With them being so outnumbered, he can’t imagine how Kíli survives this. He honestly isn’t sure that any of them will survive this. Together or not at all, they had promised.

There are tears in his brother’s eyes, and without a second thought he gathers him into his arms, breathes in his scent, commits him to memory. Just in case.

“Look at me,” he says, and Kíli does. Fíli cups his cheeks in his hands, studies his face.

“Fíli, whatever happens out there,” he starts, but Fíli shakes his head. He’s saying goodbye. “No, listen to me!” Kíli continues. “I...I need you to know. Just...whatever happens, it’s not your fault, okay?”

Together or not at all.

“Stop,” Fíli whispers, feeling fresh tears coming; he hopes that if Kíli departs for the undying lands that he won’t be far behind him. He presses a kiss to his brother’s forehead. “I love you,” he says quietly.

“I love you too, nadad,” he replies, reaching up to cup Fíli’s cheek as well. His lips quirk up into a small smile. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Fíli chuckles lightly, feels the icy vise that’s wrapped around his heart ease just a bit. “Isn’t that usually your department?” he asks, smile growing wider when Kíli laughs. He pats his brother’s cheek, then touches their foreheads together once more. “Watch my back, won’t you?”

Kíli’s answering smile is genuine. “Always.”

-----

The pale orc laughs as he mows down several of Dain’s soldiers, turning to point his mace at him. Thorin rights himself, staggers to his feet. The fighting has lasted for hours, and he is wholly exhausted. With the help of the men and elves, they had managed to beat back the orcs and goblins, but there was still Azog to deal with. Dain had spotted him atop Ravenhill, leading a second wave of goblins and orcs to the battlefield, and they had diverted a few dwarves to handle the onslaught.

He had lost sight of Kíli and Fíli in the fighting. He trusted that Dwalin had stayed with them, that he would help protect them.

Because now, Thorin’s eyes were singularly focused on the orc filth. The others could handle the rest of them; Azog was his. He would avenge his grandfather, avenge his brother, who had died at the hands of that murderous beast. Then he could be at peace.

The orc spits something in Black Speech at him, bearing its teeth in a feral smile. “This one is mine!” he shouts in common, again pointing his mace at Thorin.

He readies his sword, braces himself for Azog’s onslaught. As expected, the pale orc rushes at him, throws his full weight behind his sword as he leaps at Thorin, who is able to use Orcrist to block his blow and force him to the side, sending the orc tumbling across the ground. Azog growls.

“I will end you, Oakenshield,” he hisses. “I will end the whole of your filthy line!” He curses in Black Speech again.

Thorin sets his jaw, rebalancing himself so he can advance on the orc. If Azog knew of Fíli and Kíli...no; it did not matter. Thorin would strike him down, here and now atop Ravenhill. With a shout, he raises his sword and swings it mightily at the org, only narrowly missing as Azog rolls to the side. Thorin doesn’t relent and swings again, successfully knocking Azog’s mace from his hand and sending it skittering across the battlefield.

He is met with a well-placed kick from the orc that slams right into his side, forcing the air from his lungs as he careens to the ground. He is quick to get back on his feet, frowning when he sees that Azog has grabbed a scimitar from a fallen goblin and is ready to fight; the score evened once more.

He steps back, resetting his footing as Azog advances; successfully parries the scimitar and puts the beast on the defense again. “Men shmek menu!” he shouts as he swings his sword down, cursing once more when Azog is able to block the blow. He doesn’t relent, slashing his sword down again, but Azog is able to evade him every time, and on his final swing he misses, and Orcrist slams down into the dirt. He turns with a huff and raises his sword once more, but is met with the blade of the scimitar piercing his abdomen, just below where his armor protects him.

He staggers back in surprise, dimly reaches down to touch the wound, and is dismayed to see his hand come back stained with blood.

Azog laughs, throwing his head back in celebration. “Death to dwarves!” He raises the scimitar victoriously.

Mustering as much strength as he can, Thorin lunges forward again, swinging Orcrist in a graceful arc that succeeds at separating the foul creature’s head from his neck. His head thumps lowly on the dirt of the battlefield, a grin still fixed on it’s wretched face.

Thorin sinks to his knees, relief flooding him. He’s done it. He’s killed Azog. He’s done it!

He presses his hand over the wound in his stomach, frowning. It’s a lot of blood. Too much. He is too far from the mountain, too far from aid.

A few orcs are advancing on him, weapons drawn, howling in Black Speech over the death of their leader. He uses Orcrist as a crutch in an attempt to get to his feet.

Then a fearsome roar sounds from behind him, and the Bear-Man bursts forth.

-----

They both have a moment to catch their breaths; there are no enemies advancing on them at the moment. Fíli knows that he should be scanning the field, but he looks his brother over instead. Kíli doesn’t look too worse for wear, aside from the smattering of blood caking the dark hair at his temple and dripping into his eyes. He reaches up subconsciously, wiping some of the blood and dirt from Kíli’s face, ignoring the soft hiss of pain as he does so.

“Come on, lads,” Dwalin says, reappearing behind him, readying his axe. “It’s time for the big one.”

Fíli turns back to the battle, sees that the next wave of orcs and goblins are led by the other pale orc - Bolg, Fíli thinks Gandalf had called it. It rides atop a white warg, with a handful of other mounted orcs. Most of the troops appear to be goblins, quick work for the dwarves. If they can kill Bolg, if they can cut the head off the snake, they may well win this. It is no small task; the wargs add an additional challenge, for those creatures knew only bloodlust.

He readies his twin blades, nodding to the other dwarves who are holding the line with him, before running to meet their enemy head on. “Du bekar!” he shouts.

It’s chaos on the battlefield. The only constant is Kíli at his back; he can feel his brother’s presence throughout the fighting. Dain’s men fight valiantly beside him, but still, some goblins manage to take them down.

After much fighting, they have managed to decimate most of the evil forces. Only two of the previously mounted orcs, a smattering of goblins, and Bolg with its white warg remain. The pale orc shouts commands in the Black Speech, before dismounting his warg and pointing his sword at Fíli. “Are you ready to die, princeling?” it growls, twisting its face into something akin to a smile.

Thinking quickly, Fíli drops a sword and grabs one of the throwing knives from his vambrace, hurling it with deadly aim at Bolg, who manages to deflect it with his mace before advancing on Fíli. He draws his sword again and runs to meet the charge, striking at Bolg with each of his blades. The beast manages to parry him, though Fíli has him off balance now, so he does not relent. He swings again, this time managing to slash the beast across its torso.

His victory is short-lived as Bolg howls with rage, swings his mace and slams it directly into Fíli’s left shoulder. He can hear the bones break, and his sword falls from now-useless fingers. Regaining the upper hand, the orc punches him, and Fíli careens into the blood-soaked earth. He scrambles to right himself with only one arm, fingers scrabbling at the dirt to find his sword, but it is just out of reach and he catches nothing. The orc continues to advance on him, and Fíli frantically tries to think of his options. He doesn’t want to die here.

Then, a yellow-fletched arrow lodges itself into Bolg’s chest, followed quickly by a second, then a third. The orc sinks to his knees, shouting something Fíli does not understand as he yanks an arrow free. The ambush districts Bolg long enough that Fíli remembers the knife stowed in his boot - one Kíli had made him ages ago. With a fearsome cry, he grabs the knife and lunges forward, stabbing it into the orc’s neck and dragging it along, ignoring the spray of blood. Bolg sputters for a moment, eyes wide with surprise, before he falls over backward; dead.

Then a sound breaks through the rushing in his ears - a scream. Kíli’s scream.

He whirls around, blood turning to ice when he sees Kíli trapped in the white warg’s jaws. He stammers back to his feet, grabbing his sword as he runs as fast as he can to his brother’s aid. Dwalin gets there first and smashes his axe over the warg’s head. Kíli tumbles limply to the ground, dropped by the warg as it turns its focus to Dwalin. His weapons master slashes at the beast with his axe again, then, with a pitiful wail, it falls to the ground.

“Kíli!” he shouts, rushing to his brother’s side, heart leaping in his chest when he sees how pale he is. His armor is bent and dented, punctured by the warg’s fangs. Then Kíli coughs, and it’s a sputter of blood. “No,” he murmurs, using his good hand to brush Kíli’s hair from his face. “No, no, no, no, no. Hang on, okay?”

“Fee,”Kíli whispers, somehow sounding calm and terrified at the same time. He draws in a ragged breath, then coughs more blood.

Fíli bends down and touches their foreheads together, a few tears falling onto his brother’s dirty face. Distantly, he hears the dwarves cheering of victory. “We won, nadadith,” he murmurs. “Because of you.”

Heavy footsteps come from behind him, before a warm, familiar hand rests on his shoulder.

“Dwalin,” he murmurs, reluctantly pulling away from his brother to regard his weapons master. “Dwalin, I can’t carry him. You have to get him out of here. Please.”

“I’ve got ‘im,” Dwalin promises, voice thick with unshed tears. He squeezes Fíli’s shoulder. “Can you manage?”

Fíli nods. “It’s only broken,” he explains, but when he looks at his arm he sees that his sleeve is stained bright with blood. More blood than he had thought.

“Look,” Kíli whispers, his glassy eyes on the sky. “The eagles…”

But he cannot bear to look away from his brother, away from Kíli’s bloody face, away from the soft, half smile that plays on his lips.

“Come on, my boy,” Dwalin murmurs, gingerly gathering Kíli into his arms. His brother hisses in pain, coughs more blood, and the smile drops away.

“Dwalin,” Kíli murmurs, sounding delirious. Fíli fears he’s lost too much blood already. His only hope is that Dwalin can get him to the mountain, can get him to Oin and the healers quickly enough to spare his life.

“I’ll send someone for you,” Dwalin promises as he adjusts his grip on Kíli, but Fíli shakes his head.

“Just get him help,” he says, and Dwalin hesitantly nods, clearly reluctant to leave Fíli alone, before rushing back to the mountain.

He’ll be okay, he tells himself, his head starting to swim from the blood loss. Dwalin will get him to the healers. They’ll take care of him. His body feels strangely heavy, so he lets himself sink down to rest on his back. Overhead, the eagles are circling, occasionally swooping down to pick off the last of the orcs and goblins. The dwarves are already singing drinking songs. He can hear similar shouts of victory from the elves.

They won. Thorin had returned to himself. Kíli would be okay; Dwalin would be sure of it.

Little bits of black start to creep into his vision.

They won. The mountain was theirs. He had helped bring his family home. He had restored his mother’s legacy.

He smiles. His vision darkens further, and it is almost as if he can feel his mother’s worn hands carding through his hair.

They won.

Someone calls his name just as everything fades to black.

-----

Stay aliiiiiiiiiiive…

Only one more chapter to go, friends. I am nearly sobbing now thinking we are at the end. I am almost certain of which ending I will use. Almost.

I still struggle with goldsick!Thorin and writing battle sequences, so hopefully this one was okay. I also had to pull a lot of dialog from the movies, which I also have a hard time with.

#greater than gold #durin family feelings #look at me being all productive #formatting is better on ao3 or ff.net #hope you enjoy it my loves #not sure who is still interested but i'm gonna finish this baby of mine

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thefloorisbalaclava · 7 years

Text

Rancher!McCree AU - Chapter 3 - Jesse McCree x Fem!Reader

A/N: Finally right? I know this chapter took me a very long time and I apologize but I hope I made this worth the wait!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Words: 2,037 Warnings: angst, racial terminology. I’m not exactly sure if I actually need to ‘warn’ people, but my headcanon is that Jesse is at least half Native and it’s mentioned in this chapter.

You could not get over how great a cook McCree was. You joked about it as you finished your second helping, “Looks like you don’t need me around here.”

McCree chuckles as he wipes his mouth, “You ready to leave me already?”

You shake your head, “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Mr. McCree.”

“Thank God for that,” he says, taking you by surprise.

“I’ll clear the dishes.” You stand quickly and reach for his plate.

“You ain’t gotta…,” he starts.

“You cooked, I’ll clean.” You smile at him and he nods once, relenting.

“It’s great havin’ you here, ya know.”

You stop in your tracks, “Is it?”

“Yeah…it’s nice to have someone to talk to other than my horse.”

“I see…” He looks as though he has something else to say, but hesitates. “What is it?” you ask.

“Oh, I…I gotta go back into town tomorrow mornin’.” Your heart drops, but you force a smile. “I’m gonna have a…friend of mine keep an eye out though. I ain’t gonna let anything to you again.”

“That’s very kind of you.” The silence dragged on until it became awkward and both of you try to speak at once.

“You first,” McCree insists.

“I just…I’m grateful. Thank you.”

He eyes you for a moment then smiles, “You’re welcome.” Of all the ways the conversation could have gone, this was the one you least expected. “So, you married? Got kids or anything? Any family?” He could see you visibly stiffen and he’s quick to correct himself. “I don’t mean to pry. You ain’t gotta answer. I’m sorry.”

You blink back a few tears before answering, “I don’t have anyone.” You give him a sad smile then look away, “How about you, Mr. McCree?”

He sighs and shakes his head, “It’s Jesse, remember?” You shrug apologetically and he continues, “I have family, my mother’s side mostly.” He stops for a moment and looks down at his hands, “And I was married once.” You wanted to know more, but it wasn’t your place. Besides, he looked like he was finished talking about it.

“I’m sorry for whatever happened to you,” you say, cleaning the last dish.

“It was a long time ago…too long,” he admits. He sounded sad and distant and you thought it best to call it a night.

“Well, I’m gonna hit the hay. Thanks again for dinner, McCree.”

“Anytime.” He nods at you and you give him a warm smile before retreating to your room. A few minutes later you hear footsteps then a door shut, McCree must have gone to bed. You couldn’t help but to be even more curious about him every day, but you were his employee and asking personal questions was not appropriate.

You had no idea that you would be finding out more about him sooner than you thought.

You wake the next morning remembering that McCree had left to go into town again. Your heart beat a little faster when you think about what happened yesterday, but apparently, he had someone watching you this time.

You listened closely to see if you could hear anyone moving around the house, but you didn’t hear a thing. How could someone watch you without being here?

Since you had some privacy, this was the perfect time for bathing and washing your hair. You got out of bed and walk to the front room to grab the water bucket. Before leaving, you look out the window – no one. You were relieved, but also confused – where was this person that was supposed to be protecting you?

Stepping outside slowly, you shield your eyes from the bright morning sun and breathe in the clean air. The walk to the water pump wasn’t bad, but it would be a challenge getting the full bucket back to the house. You cursed yourself as you tried lifting the bucket.

“Would you like some help with that, ma’am?” an unfamiliar voice asks from behind you. You gasp and turn quickly, coming almost face-to-face with a horse. You look up slowly, shielding your eyes from the sun and back away a little when you see the man clearly.

“W-who are you?”

He smiled gently down at you, seeing your fear. “I am a friend of Jesse’s. I won’t hurt you. There is no reason to be afraid.”

So, this was the friend. McCree did not mention that he was…

“He didn’t tell you I was…Native?” You shake your head, your heartbeat returning to normal. He looked friendly enough and if he was a friend of Jesse’s then you were sure you could trust him.

The man climbed down from his horse and still towered over you. “May I?” He points to the bucket and you nod. He lifts it as if it were full of feathers. His long braid fell over his shoulder as he turned towards you, “Lead the way.” You walk to the house, looking behind you every few steps. “What is your name?” he asks and you tell him. “I’m John…at least that’s the name the white men gave me. My ‘Christian’ name they call it.”

You laugh with him and you point to the fireplace where he sets the it down. “Thank you, John.” You start a fire to heat the water. With your back to him, you find the courage to ask, “How do you know Mr. McCree?”

He chuckles and you look at him, “Sorry, it’s funny to hear him get called Mr. McCree.” He clears his throat and continues, “Jesse and I…grew up together. You see, we’re brothers…”

“Brothers? How…?”

“We have the same mother. After my father died, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. She eventually met the man that would become Jesse’s father. He left as soon as he found out she was pregnant.” He stops and sighs, looking at you, “Will you treat him differently now that you know this?”

You shake your head, “Of course not. He has been nothing but kind to me and his background will not change the way I treat him. If anything, we have more in common now.” John looks at you and tilts his head in question. “My father was a white man who wanted nothing to do with me. My mother worked for him and, well, you can figure out the rest.”

“I’m sorry.” The kind man bows his head and you smile. You suddenly remember that you were in your night clothes and wrap your arms around yourself. “Oh, I am so sorry. I should leave now. It was very nice to meet you.”

“Stay close. I’ll make you lunch.”

He seems to hesitate for a moment before answering, “I’d like that.” He nods once before leaving the house.

You bathe and dress as quickly as you can and start on lunch, making extra for McCree just in case he came back early and so you could have something already done for dinner.

You step outside and spot a man on a horse in the tree line. You wave him over and he makes his way over. “I hope I look a little more presentable now,” you joke. “Please come in. I hope you like mutton.”

“I do,” he says, making his way over to the table which you have already set. “Something else smells delicious.”

“Oh, I have a pie in the over. I wanted to surprise Jesse.”

“Let me,” John says, walking over to quickly pull a chair out for you.

“Thank you.”

He sits across from you and digs in, closing his eyes in delight. “This is delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever had better.” You laugh sheepishly and start to eat. You can feel John’s eyes on you and avoid his gaze. He starts to say something when you both hear the familiar sound of a horse galloping towards the house. You smile inwardly when you realize it must be McCree.

You walk outside with John following closely behind. McCree raises his hand with a smile in greeting, but the smile falters when he sees the man behind you. He walks towards the house, a bag in his hand. His eyes stayed on John and you turn to the man only to see a smirk on his face.

McCree nods at you then turns to John again, “What are you doin’ here?” he asks. You take the bag from him and look between the two men. “Go on inside,” he tells you without so much as glancing in your direction.

“That lovely woman offered me lunch, I wasn’t going to turn her down. Would you like to join us? She’s a wonderful cook.”

“I know that!” You wince at the sudden increased volume of his voice. Then he begins speaking in a language you hadn’t heard before. They went back and forth like that for some time before John comes into the house to bid you farewell.

“You in the habit of invitin’ strange men into the house? My house?” McCree asks angrily.

“He ain’t a strange man, he’s your friend.”

“How do you know he was tellin’ the truth?” he asks and you turn to him, giving him a look of disbelief.

“I’m still alive, ain’t I?” you snap. McCree just sighs and throws his hands up in the air, walking away as if he’s given up trying to argue with you. “Good riddance,” you mumble.

“I ain’t quite hear ya. You wanna repeat that?” He walks over, turning his ear towards you.

“Just shut up and eat,” you blurt out. His eyes widen slightly and you cover your mouth.

“I ain’t hungry.” He starts walking away again.

“Fine, I’ll just let John have the pie I baked.” You walk to the over, ignoring the falter in his steps.

“You two that friendly already?”

“Why do you care?”

“You are somethin’ else, you know that?! You coulda been killed yesterday and here you are lettin’ somebody you don’t even know get close to ya!”

“You mean the same way I got close to you? I’m livin’ in the house with you – alone – away from civilization. You sayin’ I can’t trust you either?”

“You’re twistin’ what I’m sayin’ now. This ain’t ‘bout us…”

“Ain’t it?!” you shout and his mouth opens and closes like he was trying to catch his breath. “Were you ever gonna tell me that this friend of yours was actually your brother?”

Jesse turns his head slowly to look at you then scoffs, “He told you, did he? How does it feel knowin’ that you work for some half breed? A white Injun?”

“Is that what you think of yourself? And do you think so lowly of me? You think I would leave over something as trivial as that?” He starts to speak but you cut him off, “And if you haven’t noticed I’m a mulatto. A half breed as you put it. To those white people, I’m worse than you’ll ever be.” Your voice cracks. “I’m sorry if you feel that way about yourself, but that doesn’t mean I think that way about you.”

You turn away from him and take the pie from the over. You place it on the windowsill to cool. “Apple molasses pie,” you tell him. “Let it cool before you have some.” With that, you remove your apron and walk to your room. He almost follows you, but he doesn’t know what to say.

Instead, he stands outside your closed door, almost knocking a few times, but stopping himself each time. He had no idea why he threw a conniption fit over you making John lunch…

…or did he know why but just wasn’t prepared to admit it? No, that couldn’t be it. He was just lonely and hadn’t been this close to a woman in a long while. He couldn’t explain why he was ready to kill those men in cold blood yesterday just for being near you. He couldn’t explain why he hated the way John looked at you and the way you looked at him.

Actually, he could explain it, but he was stubborn as a mule. Maybe he just needed some sleep. His mind would be a little clearer in the morning.

He hoped.

#Jesse McCree #McCree #McCree x Reader #Overwatch #headcanon

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