#''i was talking to this girl and she said she likes bringing knives into the bedroom and that was crazy!!! i had to get out of there!!!''
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
my circle is so like kinky and goth that i forget that it's outside the norm. like i don't think i'll ever get over how like shocked and flustered that one guy was when he saw that i've got collars hanging on my wall. i just read something on reddit where a woman was like disgusted and appalled and shocked when her boyfriend asked her to piss on his dick and she was like "oh my god i can't make this up!!!" and it's like. girl as far as kinks go watersports is like. well i don't wanna say baby shit. but as a masochist who is into knife and blood play, like . girl what do you MEAN "i can't make this up"!!!!!!
#kal.dir#very awkward once talking to a friend of me + exes and he was like#''i was talking to this girl and she said she likes bringing knives into the bedroom and that was crazy!!! i had to get out of there!!!''#and meanwhile me and my then bf like. gave each other A Smothered Look because we'd done knifeplay literally the night before 😭#ofc after the breakup the friend and i stayed friends and were pretty close until i told him something he'd done was misogynistic#and then i found out he was only hanging around me and ''helping me monetarily'' (put me on his phone plan) cos he wanted to fuck me#DESPITE the fact that at that point the host was a transmasc lesbian and he was a straight cis man.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Part IV: Stupid Girl
I Set the World on Fire masterlist
Warnings: injury, sickness
Word count: 1.7k
•
It was cold. Natasha had been gone for a few hours, leaving me with Yelena as a guard dog. The blonde woman never took her eyes off of me, never let me out of her vicinity.
My eyes shifted, searching the room for something, anything, to get me out. I tried to keep my breathing steady, not wanting to alert her to what I was doing.
“Y/N,” she said my name teasingly, her voice deep and the words coming out of her mouth languidly. “I know what you’re doing. Don’t you want to go outside? Natalia promised you could if you behaved.” She smiled and leaned back in her chair. “It snowed last night. You could make a snowman.” She said with a chuckle.
I turned my face away from her, staring at the fireplace across the room. I didn’t care for being babysat and I sure didn’t appreciate being treated like a child.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing back the tears that had threatened to escape them. It snowed? When I had been taken, it was nearly the end of summer. How long had it been?
“What’s the date?” I asked softly, still not facing her.
“You know that it doesn’t matter, correct?”
I heard her get up from the chair she was sitting on, her footsteps heavy as she paced in front of the bed.
“Nothing matters but Natalia.” Her voice was dangerous, like sharp knives and hungry bullets. “You will learn this sooner or later.”
Her loyalty to the older woman was almost admirable. Of course, they were sisters, suffered in similar ways, fought to be where they are today. I didn’t know much about their background, but I did know that they didn’t particularly like talking about it.
“I want to go outside.” I spoke softly, wishing I had a window to look out of.
“You need to earn it.”
I finally turned to look at her, her imposing figure hovering over the edge of the bed. She wasn’t a large woman, but her presence gave her an aura that wasn’t to be fucked with.
“What do you want?” I asked weakly, all the possibilities running through my mind as she smiled back at me.
“I want you to give Natalia what she wants.”
“I don’t understand.” I had given Natasha everything she asked for – mostly against my will.
“That bitch, Wanda.” My eyes widened as she spoke. “Natalia wants Wanda. I do not understand why she continues to play with you – a disgusting, used concubine, when she could just -”
She stopped herself, taking a breath and steeling herself. Clearly, she wasn’t much for for civil conversation if it wasn’t with Natasha.
“Get dressed.” I blinked at her, swallowing roughly as she moved from the bed to the chair again, sitting down with her hands on her knees. “We’ll go out. For a few minutes.” She added and I sighed.
I got up from the bed and went to the large closet across from where she was sitting, digging out something proper for snow.
“Can you at least turn around so I can get changed?” I asked rudely, but she smiled at me and shook her head.
“Natalia said to not take my eyes off of you for a minute. Not even a second.” She leaned forward. “I’ll watch you, even though it doesn’t bring me much pleasure.”
My eyebrows furrowed at her words and I began to undress. There was nothing else I could do. I tried not to look at her as I rushed to get my clothes on, the heat burning my cheeks from embarrassment heavy on my mind.
I could feel her eyes, stony and unmoving, as I finished getting dressed, fixing my pant leg over the thick socks I had found.
“Very appropriate for snow.” She commented dryly. “The snowman will be pleased.”
I rolled my eyes at her and stood before her expectantly. She stood and headed for the door, unlocking it with her key and gesturing for me to walk ahead of her.
“No funny business.”
I bit my lip and walked out, not bothering to wait as she followed along behind me. What could I possibly try to do? Natasha had her people all over the house – I would never get away.
She grabbed my elbow and directed me towards a wing I hadn’t been to before. It was a large, open area, almost like a greenhouse , with many windows and balconies to look out from. The flowers that grew inside the room were being cared for by a small, mousy looking woman who made it a point to purposely ignore us.
“I thought we were going outside.”
Yelena laughed and released my arm.
“Do you think I am stupid? You may build your little snowman with the snow from the windows. This is as close to the outside as you get.”
“But, Natasha promised -”
“I do not care what lies she told you so she could bed you without complaints. You will never have the freedom of going outside.”
Tears built up in my eyes as I walked into the room, heading towards one of the bigger windows in the center of the room. I looked out before opening it, the brisk air burning my cheeks.
Yelena continued to watch as I leaned over the balcony, looking down at the beautiful coating of snow on the ground below us. We were quite high up, and the snow still fell softly atop my head as I looked out. We were surrounded by trees, coated white, and it went as far as the eye could see.
I sighed softly and scooped up some snow in my hand from the balcony, cupping it until it became a perfect circle.
“Half of your snowman is already done.” She laughed and I let out a heavy sigh.
I looked down at my feet, the snow soaking my thick socks. I took a deep breath, swallowed roughly, and looked down at the ground again.
Pretty far up.
Using what little strength and courage I had left, I hoisted myself up onto the ledge and prepared to jump.
I could hear Yelena screaming in Russian as I plummeted towards the soft snow, the cracking of my leg loud in the silence of the surrounding forest.
I picked myself up, limping weakly, sobbing, and began to run. Run where? Anywhere.
I couldn’t run very fast, it was more like hobbling as I made my escape. I could hear Natasha’s guards screaming in Russian as I made my way into the darkness of the trees.
“Do not shoot, idiots!” Yelena yelled from the balcony, down to the guards in front of the door. “Natalia will have all of your heads!”
The bitter cold did not help the excruciating pain I felt in my right leg. I knew something was broken but I was unable to do anything about it in my current position. I had to keep moving.
I could hear them chasing me, their shouts echoing, reverberating through the trees. I couldn’t see through the snow and tears and before I could react or stop myself, I began rolling down a large hill, falling into rough twigs and bushes before landing, as safely as possible in my current condition, at the bottom.
I lay there helplessly, trying to quiet my sobbing breaths as the screaming got quieter and quieter. They didn’t know where I went. I was safe.
But surely I would die out here.
The snow continued to fall, covering my face with gentle snowflakes. I could almost feel the tears that stained my cheeks freeze over from the intense cold, my heavy breaths visible as I panted softly.
I would die out here.
•
“Foolish girl.” I heard a familiar voice whisper.
It took all my strength to open my eyes, and when I finally did, they filled with tears at the sight.
“Wanda.” I rasped, trying to sit up, but my limbs had absolutely no strength.
“Shh,” she whispered, reaching a hand down to stroke my cheek. “You need your rest.”
“Wanda … how did you …?”
“Don’t worry about that, malyshka. Sleep now.”
I closed my eyes again, content that she was with me, and I was finally safe.
•
“She’s quite delirious.” The doctor said, closing up her bag. “It’s from the fever. If it doesn’t break within twenty-four hours, you should bring her to a hospital.”
Natasha nodded curtly, watching as the girl in her bed writhed and whimpered, her leg in a cast, sweat beading up on her forehead. What a stupid, stupid girl.
“Give her two of these every four hours.” She handed Natasha a slip of paper, a prescription, and she looked down at it in her hand. “Call me if you have any questions.”
Again, Natasha gave her a nod and she gave her a small smile, walking out into the hall where Yelena waited to bring her to the door.
It was a while later when Yelena returned to the room, and Natasha was still standing where she had been when the doctor left, staring at the slumbering girl.
“Natalia,” Yelena spoke quietly, approaching her slowly. “You should get some rest.”
“I’m fine.” She snapped, turning only to hand her the piece of paper she had been holding. “Get these for me.”
She took it, nodding as she left the room. She knew Natasha was angry with her for letting all of this happen. She thought all would be forgiven when they finally found her, but Natasha was still short and cold towards her, punishing her the only way she knew how without violence.
Natasha grabbed the nearby chair and dragged it over to the bed, sitting down next to it and taking hold of her hand.
“That was a stupid thing you did.” She said, swallowing roughly.
She rubbed the pad of her thumb over her pale knuckles, watching as the girl slept. She looked her up and down, staring at the cast for a moment before returning her gaze to her face.
She placed her hand down on her stomach and opened the nightstand drawer next to the bed, pulling out metal cuffs, taking each of her hands and securing them to the headboard.
“Very stupid.”
•
@marvelogic @casquinhaa @mathxa @oh-thats-cute @ornorr @milkeeteaa @souanick @nothanksbye07 @romanoff101 @dracarys8287 @marvelwomen-simp @tigerlillyruiz @lzzysfreak @whatdoyoudo12 @mrsrushman @sherrifhaughtearp
#oizysian writes#mafia!au#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff x fem!reader
130 notes
·
View notes
Text
SCARS AND ALL
gf!Jill Valentine x gn!Reader
SUMMARY: When your beloved girlfriend comes home from a difficult work trip it brings up complex feelings of love and trauma. But, it’s nothing that can’t be mended, especially by sharing each other’s loving affection.
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, established relationship, past emotional trauma, weapons (mentioned, not used), descriptions of injuries, wound cleaning, terms of endearment, kissing, & bathing.
She reminds you of a quiet forest in early spring. So lush, and full of life—but always perpetually raining. You find comfort in her beauty, but like that vernal forest, her mind is always a storm. Restless and pouring, her thoughts swirl with pain and grief, and it worries you sick. Rain, rain, rain. You can only hope for better days, you hope she can find the calm within her inner sanctum. For one day, the sun must come out.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
"You're back," you sighed as Jill stood in your home's entryway. She wore black skin-tight jeans and a really broken-in denim jacket.
She took a deep breath, dropping her bags on the hardwood floor. "I'm back, finally."
You wrapped your arms around Jill, squeezing her tight into your embrace. She rested her head into the crook of your neck, soaking in your touch.
"I missed your smell, y'know," Jill whispered into your skin.
And you missed hers dearly. Jill had a particular smell of moss, fresh air, linen, and sandalwood. It was something of a drug to you.
You slowly ran your hand up her back and combed your fingers through her short brown strands, tucking a piece behind her ear to reveal her face.
A large, fresh wound splayed across her cheek and nose. Dried blood was crusted around the edges, and her cheek was speckled with a purplish-green bruise.
Your heart skipped a beat, and your shaky hands traced along the perimeter of her cut. "Jill—"
"It's fine, I promise."
"What do you mean it's fine? You're beat to shit."
"That's how it goes, you know that," Jill retorted.
"I'm not trying to overreact, I just…"
"You just what?"
"Jill, I feel bad— I just feel bad seeing you hurt all the time."
"It's just a cut. You don't need to worry about me," she said, reaching her hand to her face and feeling her wound.
"It's not just the cut, I'm aware you get hurt. But, I worry about you, I know this wears you down."
"We can talk about this later. I'm not in the mood."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dig," you said, apologetically kissing Jill on the forehead.
"It's okay, I know. This is just a me thing." she sighed into your neck, her voice sounding heavy and tired.
"You need a bath, though," you laughed faintly.
"I smell disgusting."
You breathed deeply, "I mean, there's a bit of what I assume is monster blood in your hair."
"A day in the life of Agent Jill Valentine, I guess." she chuckled sarcastically, pressing a kiss to your neck. "But seriously, though, I'm getting in the bath."
She left your embrace, but not without a kiss, and faintly pressed her lips against yours. "It's good to be home," she smiled, heading for the bathroom.
While Jill was in the bath, you got to work unpacking her bags. First was a duffle bag filled with clothes, an array of guns, knives, ammo, more guns, and Jesus Christ. How many weapons does this woman need?
You pulled out her blood-stained clothes and put them into the wash. The weapons went onto a towel next to the safe, she'll want to clean them before putting them away.
You held her favored combat knife in your hand. The blade was worn down and nicked from years of use and many sharpenings. It was crusted with dried blood and yellowish pus.
This very knife has saved her for damn near everything, but it brought you to tears thinking of all she had to live through. Jill was never the one who needed saving. She's always been the protector. But at what cost? It was always at the expense of her own freedom and well-being.
Your precious girl deserved to be free from the hell that is her inner world.
She had a backpack that was mainly filled with folders, notebooks, medication, and whatever random shit she picked up from her two weeks away. You left that bag for her to deal with, though; she would actually murder you if you misplaced an important document.
Jill called your name from the bathroom, and you instantly met her there.
"What is it?" you asked. Jill was sitting in the bath, her chest pressed into her knees, wincing as she ran her hand down her back.
"My back, I got hit there and need help with it." she cracked.
You sat on the edge of the tub and inspected the damage. An angry red slice from a blade ran from her shoulder blade to her lower back.
"God, I think it's infected," you said, analyzing the swelling around the wound.
"Of course it is," Jill huffed.
"Just hang on, I'll clean it." You rummaged for a first aid kit from under the sink. Although you're not a nurse, at this point, you should be.
You prepped a cloth with alcohol and held it up to her wound, "It's gonna hurt, okay," you tried to warn her, but the shock was more than Jill could have expected.
She winced, recoiling back as you dragged the cold burn of the alcohol along her irritated skin.
"Ow, oh my god, that fucking hurts!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth.
"I'm sorry. Just give me a second, and I'll be done."
You got her cut cleaned up. Jill's head rested on her knees, which exposed her bruise-ridden body.
Regardless, she was perfect. Her pretty olive skin contrasted warmly against the bubble bath. Her arms were muscular, with raised veins running down her long, dainty fingers.
Although the thought of the bruises made your stomach ache, they undoubtedly made her look tough but no less beautiful.
"Okay, my love, you should be better. Is there anything else I can do for you?" you asked, standing up.
Jill's head still rested on her knees as she answered, "No, that should be everything."
"Okay then," you headed for the door, wanting to give her some privacy.
"Where are you going?" Jill said as you were stepping out the doorway.
"Just to the kitchen, why?"
"You should stay."
"Music to my ears," you hummed, stepping back. And resume your spot perched on the side of the tub.
"It's awfully lonely in this big tub all by myself," Jill said shyly, rubbing soap along her arms. "And how am I supposed to get clean without your help?"
A smirk formed on your lips. "Hmm, I wonder what I can do to fix that?"
"I'm not sure, but I know you can figure it out," she smirked, languidly rubbing soap into her skin.
"Fine," you stripped your clothes and placed them into a pile on the floor.
"You're gorgeous, you know that?" Jill's sleepy eyes admired everything about your figure.
Your cheeks heated as you stepped into the steaming hot bath. You sat behind Jill, with her placed between your legs.
You let out a long sigh as you adjusted to the water temperature, wrapping your arms around her.
Jill took your hand in hers and placed tiny kisses along your knuckles. "I'm tired, so unbelievably tired," she exhaled, leaning back into your chest.
"I wish I could make things better for you." you sighed as you stroked your fingers through her short brown hair.
Jill paused momentarily, swallowing as she found the words, "You already make things better for me. You make life better. You're everything to me."
You couldn't help but feel like it wasn't true. But why would she lie? She makes your life infinitely better, but for a reason you couldn't place, you felt like you weren't that person for her.
Perhaps you felt like her sense of duty outweighed her love for you, Or maybe you couldn't fully understand her trauma.
Your heart skipped, and the only thing you could manage was, "Really?"
"Don't act so surprised; at this point, you're the only thing keeping me sane. You get me through the literal gates of hell."
You laughed genuinely, and your cheeks flushed with warmth.
"See like your laugh, God, how I love your laugh. It reminds me of Summer if that makes any sense."
You laughed again, and a little pit in your belly swelled with warmth. "And you remind me of rain. Your voice is so calm and pretty. It's like water droplets on our window."
"You're quite the poet, I take it," Jill smirked and rolled around so her stomach pressed to yours.
"Only for you." you grinned, tucking a damp strand of hair behind Jill's ear. This angle provided you with an absolutely superb view of her eyes. Although heavy and tired, they radiated love-- love swirled by endless bounds of dark blue ocean. You couldn't resist her any longer and pulled her into a soft, intimate kiss.
Your pouty lips refrained from deepening the kiss too far. The tip of your tongue grazed against hers like a gentle dance. She tasted dizzyingly sweet. Jill gracefully rolled your lip between her teeth, biting and then sucking softly.
"My pretty girl," you mumbled into the kiss, drunk off her taste.
She ran her hand up your chest, your neck, and settled on your cheek, her thumb stroking your jaw with the lightest touch.
Jill pulled away and rested in your embrace, head on your chest, eyes closed. "I'm so happy to be home," she sighed.
You hugged her tight into your chest. "I'm happy you're home, my love."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
Something darker than you'll ever know lingers behind Jill’s blue eyes. A darkness that she holds securely within herself. But, the sun does rise, and for Jill, you're her sun. The one person who can love her, scars and all.
#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine fluff#jill valentine x gn!reader#jill valentine#jill valentine x you#resident evil#resident evil fanfic#academy fics✨#jill valentine oneshot
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bedtime Stories For a Demon, Night 2: Swan Lake (Lucanis x Rook Fanfic)
The next night, Lucanis finds himself arranging a few plates on the dining table ahead of Rook’s planned arrival. He arranges, then rearranges, doubts what he made, or if it was weird thing to do in general. But he remembers his conversation with Neve from earlier in the day, and that seems to hold his nerves steady for the time being.
He had walked into her office-room with a question. And Neve, unsurprisingly, knew exactly what that question was before he even got to her front door. She was a damn good detective, he had to give her that.
“Planning something special for Rook?” she asked coyly.
“You know her better than I do” He admitted, scratching the side of his beard. “She’s … helping me. I want to do something nice for her”
“Is that all?” Neve quirked a brow and leaned back in her chair. An errant wisp floated by her hair, which she quickly swatted away gently.
Lucanis frowned. “Yes. That is all. Just tell me what I should make for her”
Neve crossed her arms, “Information rarely comes free in Minrathous”
“We’re not in Minrathous” he pointed out.
“You can take the girl out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the girl” she said wistfully, closing her eyes and grinning.
Lucanis groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Fine, what do you want”
“Fried fish for dinner tomorrow night”
“I was going to make Paella tomorrow night”
“Well, now you’re making fried fish” Neve quipped.
“Mierda, alright. But I’m also making vegetables” He pointed at her, “You people need to get better eating habits”
Neve grinned and steepled her fingers together, then leaned forward on her desk. “Make the churros again. You might not have noticed her sneaking an extra one or… five, during dinner, but I certainly did. She wouldn’t stop talking about them the day after you made them”
“Churros” He repeated thoughtfully, as he rubbed his beard. He could do that. He should still have some ingredients left over from the first time he made them last week.
Rook likes sweet things. Smells like sweet things. Spite echoed in his head. He ignored that.
“Thank you, Neve” He gave her a curt nod before he turned to leave. “There will be fresh coffee in the dining hall in a few minutes if you’ve a mind for a real cup of it.” He called over his shoulder.
Lucanis left to her chuckling behind him and closed the door to her office. He had spent the rest of the day gathering supplies, and later in the evening when he was certain the team was asleep, he began preparing. The routine of baking and cooking was as calming as sharpening his longsword on a whetstone. Slow, methodical, rhythmic. But unlike sharpening his swords and knives, the end product was something that could bring joy, rather than misery and death. He tries to hang on to that.
When he finishes the churros, he decides that’s not enough. He makes a chocolate sauce to go with the churros. But maybe she prefers caramel? He should have asked Neve. So, he makes a caramel sauce as well. Then, he wants to see if she’ll like cioccolata calda and starts preparing that. It’s fairly late in the evening when he finishes the croissants he wasn’t planning on baking.
No sign of Rook yet.
He’s not sure when he started pacing with his second cup of coffee in hand.
She had accompanied Bellara to Arlathan – something about Veil Jumpers going missing deep in the forest. He shouldn’t worry. He’s seen Rook fight, she’s more than capable. But she does have a certain recklessness to her way of fighting. No - he doesn’t need to worry. He isn’t worrying.
He continues pacing. Then, he’s once again finding flaws with his arrangement of the desserts on the table. Would she find this strange? Too much? Off-putting, and not in a charming way but an unsettling way? Was there even a way to be charmingly off-putting?
He's pacing again.
“Am I interrupting something?”
He stops in his tracks.
Her voice has caught him off guard two nights in a row. That is a problem.
“Rook” He says stupidly.
“Hi” She waves meekly, and limps into the dining hall with a groan. She’s dragging her left foot on the ground. “Sorry I’m late – ran into trouble in Arlathan.”
He takes a few tentative steps closer. He wants to extend his hand, but some unknown force keeps it to his side, his entire body wound tighter than Harding’s bowstring.
If his body won’t move, his mouth will have to pay the balance.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
Rook winces and draws closer to the large wooden table.
“Rage demon” she answers, pulling out a chair by the fireplace “And I’m happy to report it lived up to its name! It wasn’t very happy to see us”
He pulls out a chair beside her. She turns to him and laughs bitterly, “Have you ever been burned and stabbed on a job? Because I found out what that feels like today, and it’s kind of awful. Thankfully Bellara was able to patch me up”
Lucanis looks down at her left leg. Whatever injury she sustained is covered by her pants, but he can surmise from the way she’s shifting nearly all her weight onto the other leg it must have been bad.
“You leave your left flank wide open when you fight” he says, absent-mindedly. And immediately wishes he hadn’t.
“What?”
Mierda.
“You have a habit of leaving your left flank open.” He says quickly, then looks into the fire. Anywhere but her confused face. “Something I’ve noticed on the field.”
He feels her staring. He’s said something he shouldn’t have said. He doesn’t know how to right it other than by offering her food as a distraction. Lucanis turns to his handiwork and reaches for the bowl of churros, all but thrusting it in front of her.
“Churro?” He asks hopefully.
If Rook is taken aback by the odd exchange, she has the manners not to say anything. She blinks twice and looks down at the dessert.
“You made this for me?” She tilts her head.
Lucanis rubs the back of his neck.
“I … yes” He sets the bowl back on the table after she gingerly takes one in her hand. He wonders if they’re as soft to touch as they appear. “I thought dessert might pair well with your stories”
Rook chuckles, and leans in closer “It’s a good thought”
Smells like Blood and Ashes and Brimstone, Spite’s anger reverberates through his chest. She’s supposed to smell like sweet things.
For once he’s grateful for the demon’s interjection as it keeps him from staring at her while she eats the churro. And licks the cinnamon sugar from her lips. He shouldn’t be paying attention to this.
“Mmm” she sighs, an expression of serene delight passing over her features. His chest tightens.
Rook grins, oblivious to the effect she has on him, “These are dangerous you know- you can’t keep making them for me or it’ll be all I’ll eat”
Lucanis sighs and pushes the chocolate and caramel sauces towards her. “You and Neve are peas in a pod evidently.”
Rook squeals in delight and wastes no time dipping the dessert into the chocolate sauce.
She prefers chocolate.
“So” He starts, awkwardly shifting in his seat, “What tale will you tell tonight?”
He pretends not to notice her wiping a smear of chocolate sauce from the corner of her lip with her finger.
“Oh, right” She reaches into her side pocket and pulls out the small journal. Rook flips through its pages, humming thoughtfully. She lands on a page near the end of the journal before stopping.
“This might be a good one.” Rook snaps the journal shut and places on the table beside her. “Have you ever heard the tale of Swan Lake?”
Even if he had, he would say no. If she wants to tell him a story, he won’t sway her.
“The original story is from Nevarra, but it was adapted into an Orlesian ballet some time ago” Rook continues, not giving him a chance to answer before barreling ahead with her explanation. “Apparently it was one of Emperor Judicael’s favourites. He liked it so much he had the ballet house play it nearly every night, and producers of the other ballet’s threatened to quit en masse. It was so bad, the play was actually banned in Orlais for about fifty years because of that whole debacle. Caused quite the scandal”
“Must be a good ballet” He remarks, before getting up from his seat. “Wait here for a moment, Rook”
Rook nods and reaches for another churro, “Sure”.
Lucanis returns with two steaming cups and passes one to Rook. She takes it gratefully and lifts the warm beverage to her nose. “Mmm! What is this? Smell’s divine”
“Cioccolata Calda. An Antivan specialty”
“Is it coffee?”
“Try it”
Rook does as she’s told and takes a curious sip. Her eyes widen and her lips split into a large smile. “That is amazing. I think I have a new favourite drink”
“They make it better at Café Pietra, but this will do for tonight” Lucanis sits back down and takes a sip of his own cup. It’s a little too sweet for him, but the look on her face assures him it was a good call. “If we find ourselves in Treviso again, we can –“
“I like the way you make things” Rook says quietly, gripping her cup a bit tighter. She’s looking down at her cup, and it’s probably for the better. He is certain the tips of his ears are a furious shade of red.
“Thank you” He whispers, after a few moments of quiet pass between the two. “That’s… very kind of you to say”
“You’re welcome” She replies, crossing her legs in her seat like she did yesterday. She looks like she wants to say something else, but a quick shake of her head and a clap of her hands brings her focus back to the reason she came here.
“Okay, umm, let’s see here” Rook’s gentle features twist in concentration.
Her hands begin glowing with that familiar blue light, and as she raises her arms and gives a flourish with her left hand.
A castle once again fills the empty space between their chairs. This one has a central dome surrounded by four gilded towers with pointed roofs – different in style and architecture from the one yesterday, but no less impressive.
“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a handsome and gentle prince by the name of Siegfried”
The castle ripples out of existence, and in its place, is the form of a young man with short, cropped hair, a broad chest, and a large bow on his back.
“Prince Siegfried was one of the most accomplished hunters in the kingdom. It was said he could hit any mark, no matter the distance. His aim would always be true. Some versions of the story mention his crossbow being enchanted, others chalk it up to pure skill. Either way, he’s a good shot” Rook grins and makes the figure of the Prince aim an arrow right at Lucanis’ chest with a crook of her finger.
Lucanis raises an eyebrow and holds his hands up in mock defense, “Tell the Prince he should stick to animals – I might be above his paygrade”
Rook bursts out into laughter and as her concentration breaks for a moment, the image of the Prince flickers in and out of existence.
“Sorry, carry on.” Lucanis smiles as she rights herself in her seat and places her hands back into position.
“Yes – where was I?” Rook flicks her wrist, and the Prince is back in view. This time, he’s joined by another figure. A tall woman, dressed in a long, flowing dress with an ornate crown on her head, comes to stand next to him.
“His mother, the Dowager Queen, comes to inform him of an upcoming ball that will be held at the royal palace. ‘At this ball, my son, you will choose a royal bride. For I am late in my years and wish to see grandchildren in these palace halls before I depart’” As before, the Queen’s mouth moves in rhythm with Rook’s words – like magical ventriloquism.
Rook waves her hand and the Queen disappears. The form of the prince cradles his head in his hands.
“The Prince is despondent at this news. He wanted to marry for love, not political power. Surely, he has a right to his own heart, at least?” The Prince sinks to his knees and stays like that for a few moments.
Another flourish from Rook, and a new figure appears. Shorter, portlier than the Prince, but with kinder features.
“His friend Benno sees how upset he is, and wonders how he can help cheer up the Prince”
Both figures disappear as Rook pauses to take a sip of her hot chocolate. He tries to ignore Spite’s impatient rippling at the edges of his consciousness.
Siegfried and Benno return soon thereafter.
“Benno looks out the window, and happens to see a flock of swans flying outside”
Rook waves the swans into existence, and they flit around Siegfried and Benno in circles before disappearing. The figure of Benno tugs on the prince’s shoulder sleeve.
“‘Your highness, a hunt!’ he exclaims, pointing out the window” The figure of the prince straightens, his interest piqued by the animals.
“Benno gathers a few other men from the castle, and along with the prince, they all ride out to the forest to hunt the swans”
The scene changes to Benno, Siegfried, and three other men riding horseback through a dense forest canopy. He will always be in awe of the imagery she’s able to bring to life with her magic. Never in a hundred years would he have thought of using magic in this way. Then again, Rook is anything but a typical mage, so he shouldn’t be surprised.
“At some point, Prince Siegfried becomes separated from the group”
One by one, Benno and the other men disappear, until only the prince remains, trotting horseback through the air on the spot.
“He comes to the lakeside clearing and finds the flock of swans.” The swans reappear, now floating on the edge of an invisible lake. The figure of the Prince draws his crossbow and pulls an arrow from the quiver. As he nocks the arrow, one of the swans transforms into a beautiful young woman. She has a long plait of hair spilling over her left shoulder. She’s wearing what Lucanis assumes, from its puffy construction, a ballet dress. The skirts are feathered, and feathers even fall from the dress, winking out of existence moments later.
He leans in closer to observe the finer details.
“You have quite the imagination, Rook” Lucanis smiles at her.
She returns it in kind and brushes a stray curl behind her ear. She looks shy, almost, and like she’s avoiding looking at him. “Some say over-active”
“I think it’s just right” He pulls back and takes a sip of his own hot chocolate.
“Thanks…” She whispers, drawing her legs closer together. When she sees her figures flickering again, Rook’s brows bunch together and the blue light in her hands grows brighter.
“The … ah … the Prince was so transfixed by her beauty and grace, he had to know more about her”
The figure of the prince begins moving closer to the woman, but the woman begins to back away.
“But she was frightened, for she did not know this man, and feared the crossbow in his hands”
“‘Wait!’ The prince calls just before she leaves his sight” The prince holds out his hand and tosses his crossbow to the ground. Well, the air. “‘Please stay, I’ve not a mind to hurt you. Won’t you tell me who you are?’”
The young woman stops and rests her hand on her chest.
“‘My name is Odette, and I cannot leave this place’”
“Why?” Lucanis is leaning forward, practically on the edge of his seat.
Rook leans in closer. Too close. Close enough to reach out and touch. Her large, doe-like green eyes, framed under long and wispy eyelashes, feel like they’re burning themselves into his soul.
Chocolate and cinnamon. Spite shrieks gleefully, and he wants to draw back. His heart throbs loudly in his ears, almost drowning out the demon. Almost.
“The prince had the same question” She winks and returns to her previous spot before he has the chance to pull away first.
“Odette explains she’s been placed under a curse by a powerful, but wicked mage. His name was Von Rothbart, and he was obsessed with Odette.”
The prince disappears and is replaced by a taller man with hair tied behind his back and sharp, hawk-like features. He was dressed in a finely tailored doublet, with a side-cape hanging by a large broach affixed to the right shoulder. A faint red light shines from the broach.
“He kidnapped her from her home and used her blood to bind her soul to the gem in his broach. ‘Marry me’, he asks her every night. Every night she refuses. Every morning thereafter, she turns into a swan. And every night, she is called back to Swan Lake and turns back into a human. Such had been her fate for the last five years. It’s a powerful spell, born of ancient magic – but not an invulnerable one.”
Rook arced her hand over Odette, who’s form morphed from human to swan to human again with every back-and-forth motion of her palm.
He doesn’t have the words, none that will meaningfully add to the conversation at least, to describe how he feels about the way she uses her magic. Amazing, incredible, inventive all seem inadequate.
“There was one way to break Rothbart’s spell. A man would need to profess his love for her and remain faithful to that vow forevermore”
The figure of the prince kneels down on one knee, evidently ready to profess that love immediately.
Lucanis is resting his elbow on his knee, and his chin rests in his hand. His cup of hot chocolate rests forgotten by his side, as do the churros and croissants. He is certain she doesn’t realize how captivating she – her stories, are.
But they are interrupted by Rothbart, suddenly appearing beside Odette. He grabs her roughly by the arm and holds her beside him.
The prince stands with righteous anger. He has an arrow pointed at the figure of Rothbart.
“‘I shall slay this wicked mage, and free you from his grasp’” Siegfried declared”.
As the prince was about to loose the arrow, Lucanis is surprised to see Odette step in front of Rothbart, her arms spread wide in defense. The prince lowers his bow hesitantly.
A low growl escapes his throat, his eyes flash an angry violet “Why would she do that?” Lucanis’ voice is drowned by the deep and unnatural timbres of the demon, echoing together in a discordant symphony.
“Spite” Rook says calmly, like one would address a misbehaving child. “May I have Lucanis back so we can finish the story? You’ll find out why in a moment”
Lucanis’ face contorts with frustration. His violet eyes burn bright with anger, “Want. To know”
“You will, soon. Now bring Lucanis back”
Lucanis – well, Spite, growls again. When the demon refuses to relent, Rook hesitantly touches his forearm and frowns. “Please?”
The violet in his eyes dims, and Lucanis shakes his head. It was rare for Spite to surge to the forefront so quickly.
He couldn’t understand why the princess would protect someone who hurt her.
Lucanis takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly.
“Are you alright?” Rook asks quietly. The figures are long gone now, dissipated by the distraction that was Spite.
He realizes she’s still touching his forearm. Warm, and calming. Gentle. They both look down and she quickly pulls away. He feels the withdrawal of her warmth like gust of cold settling on his skin.
“Yes, I’m fine – don’t worry” He gestures to her, “Please, continue with your story”
Rook still looks hesitant, like she doesn’t quite believe him. He wouldn’t either, he supposed. He needs her to continue the story. Needs to distract himself from the feeling of her soft fingers lingering on his skin, like a brand.
She relents and her hands glow blue again.
The three figures of Siegfried, Odette, and Rothbart return.
“Odette explains that her life is tied to Von Rothbart. If he dies, then the spell imprisoning her can never be broken”
The figure of Rothbart retreats into a deeper part of the forest she’s conjured.
Odette and Siegfried share an embrace.
“’Come to the royal ball in three days’ time. There, I will profess my love to you in front of the entire court’ Says the Prince, resolved to defy his mother and marry her instead of a princess.”
The figure of Odette nods and disappears soon after.
“What they don’t know is that Rothbart heard the entire exchange, and he had a plan to make sure Odette could never escape him” Rook frowned.
The prince disappears next, and they are back with Rothbart and another young woman. This one slender and petite, with the same sharp features as the man next to her.
“Rothbart had a plan. He would use magic to disguise himself” Rook waved a hand and Rothbart morphed into the dress and appearance of an unassuming peasant. “And his daughter, Odile” She waved her hand again, and the young woman became an identical copy of Odette – but her dress, was glowing with an ominous black light.
“There’s no way that’ll work” Lucanis throws his arms up and leans back in his chair. “He has to know that Rothbart won’t just let her waltz into the ball”
Rook merely shrugs, “You’ll have to wait and see”
Lucanis crosses his arms over his chest and frowns. “Continue”
Rook laughs, “Alright, alright”
Odile and Rothbart disappear. They are replaced by a grand ballroom floor, with guests dressed in all sorts of finery decorating the dance floor like little spinning jewels.
At the top of a grand staircase sees Benno, Siegfried, and the Queen gathered together.
“Siegfried anxiously awaits the arrival of Odette” Rook explains, before waving her hand and bringing to life the disguised figures of Rothbart and Odile-as-Odette.
“Overcome with joy when he sees her, he immediately asks her to dance”
The two come together, and the rest of the ballroom disappears. They twirl about the ballroom in an elegant pas-de-deux.
“At the end of the dance, Odile asks him one simple question”
The pair part, and the prince drops to one knee in front of her.
“’Do you love me, and only me?’”
Lucanis watches intently as the figure of the prince bows his head in front of the pretender.
Sadness washes over Rook’s face. “The Prince, none the wiser, proclaims his love to the entire court ‘Of course I love you’ – but it wasn’t enough. Rothbart, masquerading as the girl’s father, asks him to make a binding vow in front of the Queen. Siegfried, thinking nothing of it, does so immediately”
Rook waves her hand and the figures of Rothbart and Odile return to their original forms. Suddenly, the real Odette, in her pure white dress, is inside the ballroom. She crumples to the floor as she witnesses the Prince profess his love for Odile.
“Odette, heartbroken, flees the ball and returns to the lakeside clearing. The prince follows after her, distraught at what he’s done.”
The two figures stand in front of each other on the lake.
“Odette eventually forgives him, realizing that he was under Rothbart’s spell just as much as she was. But the damage was done. His actions consigned her to live as a swan forevermore”
Lucanis frowned, unable to see a path to a happy ending. But Rook was full of surprises, maybe her stories were as well.
“Odette and the Prince resolved to leave this world together, rather than be bound by Rothbart’s magic”
The figures of Siegfried and Odette walk towards the lake, hand in hand. They slowly sink together under the willowy depths.
Well, he wasn’t expecting that.
A moment later, they both disappear under the water.
The figure of Rothbart returns into view. The red light of the broach on his shoulder flickers in and out, before dying out completely. Rothbart collapses to the ground and remains still.
“It’s true that Odette’s life was bound to Rothbart’s – but the magic worked both ways. Rothbart’s life was also tied to hers. And when she left this world of her own will, he left it against his”
A moment later, Rothbart disappears and in his place are two ghostly swans, flying in circles together.
“The spirits of Siegfried and Odette are reunited in the Fade, until they decide to pass on together”
With a final flick of her wrist, the birds disappear, and there is nothing but empty space between him and Rook again.
“The End”
Lucanis exhaled.
“Not the most cheerful ending” He remarks, taking another sip of hot chocolate.
“What was it you said about that one brew at Café Pietra? Bitter and sweet - like a kiss goodbye?” Rook nods and absent-mindedly chews on another churro. “That’s how I think about this ending. Not every story has an overtly happy one”
He’s dumbfounded she even remembers that throwaway comment.
“I still don’t understand how the prince doesn’t question Odette appearing at the ball. With a father she hasn’t seen in five years, supposedly” He wants to change the subject. Away from kisses, goodbye or otherwise.
Rook shrugs, “That’s a question for the author- though he’s likely about four hundred year’s dead.” A light twinkles in her eyes, “Maybe we can find him here, in the Fade, and ask his spirit!”
Lucanis laughs, “Now there’s an idea”
“I’m full of them. Some better than others” Rook grins sheepishly. She begins massaging the side of her left leg.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, following her gaze down.
“Nothing – it’s just starting to ache a bit” Rook winces. “That demon got me good”
“Let me see” Lucanis drops to his knee in front of her. “If that’s alright”
Rook removes her hand and drops her gaze to look at him.
“Oh – it’s fine, Lucanis, really. I’ll bug Bellara about it in the morn- “
“It’s better if you bug me about it now. It might get worse over the course of the night”
He gestures to her pant leg, “May I?” He asks again.
Rook bites her lip, before relenting. “Sure… go ahead” she answers softly and lifts her leg so he can support it in his right hand.
He clicks his tongue when he sees the damage under her dressing. The lateral portion of her lower leg is covered with an irritated and inflamed superficial burn. Three parallel gash marks, likely closed thanks to Bellara’s healing magic, create tracts of bright crimson skin. She hisses when he gently presses on the skin of her leg.
“I have something for this. Wait here” He carefully lowers her leg and returns a moment later with a small jar from the pantry.
“Embrium and Elfroot paste, good for burns and skin irritation. It’ll also prevent infection. Apply it twice a day” He sets the jar on the table beside her. “Let me know if that gets worse”
Rook grins, “I didn’t know I was getting a doctor and an assassin in my contract”
Lucanis chuckles, “Any Crow worth their salt knows how to close a wound just as well as they can open one. Consider it on the house”
“Is the all the cooking on the house too?” Rook slowly stands up, and they’re only a few inches away from each other now.
Lucanis nervously rubs the back of his neck, “I think it has to be, with the way you people eat”
“Hey! I’m not that bad” She places her hands on her hips and frowns. “I eat vegetables … sometimes”
“I’ve seen you pick out the eggplant in every dish”
“Okay, I don’t like one vegetable”
She shakes her head and gathers a few churros and croissants onto a plate. Rook sticks a croissant in her mouth, and speaks around it, “Just for that, I’m eating nothing but these for the next two days”
“You’re going to miss Paella night” He deadpans.
Rook swallows and places another croissant defiantly on her plate.
“Three nights”
Lucanis sighs. At least she seems to like the food.
Rook’s laughter fills the dining hall. “On that note – I should get some sleep. I hope Spite doesn’t give you too much trouble for the rest of the night”
“He won’t” Lucanis doesn’t know that but says it to give her some reassurance. “Good night, Rook”
“Madeleina”
“What?”
“My name … it’s Madeleina. You can call me that if you want” She smiles widely. “Rook is fine too, though”
“Madeleina” He repeated softly. He smiled, and for the first time all night, he feels like he can keep her gaze. Their eyes meet, and it feels like an entirely new conversation is happening between them. “It suits you”
Rook toys with an errant curl and smiles. “Thank you”
“I – umm… I should get going. Goodnight, Lucanis” she adds quickly.
She quickly rights herself and for good measure, steals one more churro from the bowl. Madeleina then turns and begins hobbling out of the dining hall, leaving Lucanis and Spite to mull the feeling of her new name over in his mind.
He would have to thank Neve for her advice.
#lucanis dellamorte#lucanis x rook#rook#shadow dragon rook#rookanis#datv#datv spoilers#dragon age veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#fanfiction#written works#excuse any errors as usual i wrote this in one sitting with no draft or notes just vibes and coke zero#your honour they're in love but they're also so stupid#oc: madeleina mercar#neve gallus#bellara lutare#spite is canonically their biggest shipper#fic: bedtime stories for a demon
69 notes
·
View notes
Note
Dad bi han headcanons?
Father, Father I Crave Violence
Prior notes: FATHER, INTO YOUR HANDS I COMMIT MY SPIRIT! I feel like you thought of this cause I reblogged that artist’s drawing and I will not say their name cause I don’t like involving them in my bs.
Who’s your daddy?: Bi-Han, congratudolences he got you pregnant!
Warnings ‼️: HE IS THE FATHER *camera man goes crazy*
Big, muscly, meanie (Regular Bi-Han)
He needs a son. That’s the heir to the Lin Kuei right there.
When the kid is five he will be trained to defend himself.
Don’t worry he won’t bring the kid on missions he’s not dense.
He has a soft spot for his children. Though he is cold those are still his blood children. He wants to take good care of them.
He won’t let any of his assassins take care of or even hold his child.
Bi-Han can be a little paranoid, he worried someone will hurt his child. He can never be too careful. Once the child is old enough to defend themselves then they will have some freedom.
That motherfucker (literally) will be pumped to see if his children gain his ice abilities. If they gained your abilities that’s ight too.
The max is two. No more no less. Don’t matter if it’s two brothers or a brother and sister.
Okay but what about a girl?
Overprotective and overbearing oh gosh.
If anyone in the Lin Kuei takes a peak at her they are getting smacked. Poor guys.
Bi-Han will teach her how to defend herself as well. She needs to know. He will even give her a knife to protect herself (which you take away cause she is only five)
If the son comes first it’s his duty as the older brother to protect his sister from any nasty boys.
When they seem ready (like maybe 15) they can start going out for missions. Simple ones at first. Gotta build them up.
I know I said he will teach them to defend themselves but he will teach them to fight eventually. Yes there is a difference.
His daughter wants to play. Ehhhhh, fine, just because she is crying. But he will be taking it too seriously.
“That’s not how you pour tea.” “Your dolls can’t have multiple partners.” “The dog can’t talk.” You have no imagination sir.
What do you mean they need toys? He didn’t have many toys back when he was a kid. Give them a stick and a rock.
Fine, he’ll get them toys. Only a few though. They need to be focused on other things.
Puberty is gonna suck for everybody involved.
Pads? Yes. Tampons and diva cups? What are those?
You know what helps with cramps, working out. Yeah he’s that kind of dad. They don’t need Advil they got this.
The boys are fighting again. Now Bi-Han is yelling again. Has your tinnitus kicked in yet?
He doesn’t care what they are into they just better be loyal to the Lin Kuei.
Titan Bi-Han (y’all know why I made it separate)
It’s very similar.
He isn’t too overbearing he is still overprotective.
There are too many sharp things in the temple oh lord hide them!
Bi-Han, they can’t even walk how are they gonna reach the butter knives on the tall counter.
He is serious but I think he would crack a dad joke or two.
“Dad, I’m hungry.” “Hi hungry, I’m the Lin Kuei’s grandmaster.” FEED THE KIDS STUPID!
Please don’t take my pupusas away cause I made that joke.
They will be begging him to teach them to fight. He is hesitant but eventually gives in.
Two? Why stop there? If you’re comfortable he would like a few more. Don’t worry he’s not asking for six.
Spoils them! Spoils them to death! His daughter gets anything she wants. His son can have that puppy. They just have to share NO ARGUING!
Only the most trusted of his clan can take care of his children, aka Kuai Liang and Tomas.
Puberty will never be easy in any timeline.
Pads and tampons? Yes. Diva cup? Still don’t know what that is.
Heating pads, medicine, working out, curling up into a ball on the floor, he understands his daughter is in pain.
The boys can’t fight in front of their dad or else he will get scary.
He cares about what they like and will get concerned over some things. I don’t think he will appreciate them liking technology or having a fascination with Volcán de fuego (cause like I never did I promise). They just need to stay loyal to the Lin Kuei or else they will break his heart.
After notes: I did this one earlier cause my dad said some crazy shit this morning. He said marmalade is disgusting and strawberry jam was created by the devil. The only good kind and only kind there should be is grape. And then he went on about how he knew someone who would ask him to drink a bottle of bourbon and find Jesus. I told him “dad, if you drink a whole bottle of bourbon you don’t find Jesus, Jesus finds you”. Very strange morning but the breakfast was good. Adiós!
#mortal kombat#mk1#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat1#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat x you#mk x reader#mk x you#mk fanfic#bi han x you#bi han x reader#bi han mk#bi han sub zero#bi han mortal kombat#bi han#sub zero x you#sub zero x reader#sub zero#headcanon
290 notes
·
View notes
Text
Use Me (Kinktober Fic)
Succubus Reader x Various JJK Men
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Two.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
You crawled behind Choso, traversing over carpet and tile floor. Luckily he naturally walked slowly, some of the others walked quicker on purpose.
Now that you were inside the house you could hear the music much clearer. They were playing Halloween music and even had decorations up to match. Were they about to throw a party? When you entered the kitchen and saw the three giant kegs you knew that's what was about to happen.
That can't be good. You hope they don't kick you out, you were starving.
"Lay down." Choso commanded.
You looked over to see he was pointing at a giant pink fluffy bed sitting on the side of the kitchen. That was new.
"When-"
"Ah ah- I didn't say speak I said lay down." He pointed again with a bit more force.
You crawled into the bed and got comfortable, lying down as you looked up at Choso.
He cracked the smallest grin, "Good girl." He praised petting your head as you purred excitedly. He then stood up and went to the fridge, "Sukuna got it for you. Thought you might like it." He chuckled while searching for something to eat.
Even though he was talking to you, you couldn't talk back, not unless they told you to speak or asked you a question.
Honestly, it wasn't always like this. When you first met them they had released you from your slumber so you could help them find a curse. Between helping them or sleeping for eternity you chose your best option. They had aided you and you helped them. Killing whatever curse spirit they needed.
Everything was perfect.
It wasn't until you accidentally killed their best friend, then they started treating you differently. You told the man that he wouldn't survive and he wanted to sleep with you anyway! Who were you to turn down a meal!?
Food was food.
Apparently, you chose wrong and you shouldn't have done it. Human morals were so weird but you were learning bit by bit. They didn't like it when you hurt their people...only other people...bad people...the people they tell you to hurt....It was a work in progress.
Your body burned, bringing you back to why you were here in the first place. You released a light whimper staring at Choso as he scratched his abs under his long-sleeved grey shirt. Your mouth watered wanting to lick upon his stomach among other things.
"Quiet pet." He spoke without looking your way. He finally found something, pulling out a few things.
You pout, observing him as he moves around the kitchen cooking. About five minutes in you heard someone coming. You sat up excitedly hoping whoever it was would bless you.
Gojo came rushing in dressed like a Roman king with a leaf-like crown. He was talking on the phone.
"We are gonna need to get a new battery for the hockey table-oh what the fuck!" Gojo shouted.
"What?" Getou's voice boomed loudly on the phone.
"What the hell is she doing here!?" Gojo hollered while looking at Choso for an explanation.
"Why are you acting like I summoned her or some shit." Choso questioned with a twitch of his brow.
"Awww is it our kitten?" Getou cooed.
"No aww! She's going to kill everyone!"
"Did you want me to leave her outside?" Choso questioned.
Gojo glared at you as you gave him your puppy eyes and a little poke of your lip.
'Please don't kick me out please don't kick me out.'
"I swear to Tengen if one person dies tonight you will never come back, got it?"
You nodded quickly as Gojo sighed looking at Choso. "Where is Aiko?"
"She sent them away."
"What why?"
"She said they would have died if they touched her because of how minuscule their curse energy was."
Gojo smacked his forehead with a little growl, "Fuck I forgot about that."
"Forgot about what?" Sukuna popped in catching the end of the conversation. He was dressed up as a Viking, suns out guns out. Two knives clipped to his hips. Knowing him they were most definitely real. You wouldn't be surprised if the fur he wore was also real and something he hunted himself.
"Our problem pet." Gojo pointed to you.
Sukuna's face lit up as he saw you, his lips pulling up into a wide grin, "Aye~ look who it is, my little slut." You chirped at him as he got down, he nudged you so you could roll on your back.
When you did he chuckled while rubbing your stomach. You were so touched starved you moaned while looking up at him pitifully. You didn't care how degrading this was, as long as you allowed Sukuna to do what he wanted he was quick to give you a reward. He was sadistically twisted and just as needy. He also had a shit ton of curse energy to spare.
"You like the bed I got you?" He grinned wickedly while inching toward the lower part of your belly.
You nodded, leaning into his other hand as it cupped your cheek.
"Poor thing, must be so hungry." He clicked his tongue.
You blinked your eyes quickly, whimpering some more. 'Yes so hungry! Feed me!' you wanted to scream.
"I gotcha kitten." He got up going into the kitchen cabinet.
"Oi!" Gojo threw up his arms, "Are we not gonna talk about our problem?"
"What's the problem?" Sukuna questioned getting out two pink bowls with diamonds on them.
Oh fucking hell.
"We are throwing a party and if someone touches our pet then it's lights out!"
Choso finished cooking, plating his food, "Why not keep her in one of our rooms." He slid onto the barstool saying a quick prayer before digging in.
"No way." Sukuna growled, "I'll fucking watch her."
Gojo scoffed, "You just want to parade her around on your dick."
"Don't act like you won't do it too."
"Maybe, but if she kills too many people the elders are going to get involved and they're already up our asses as it is."
"Maybe we can let only those with a decent amount of curse energy in." Getou suggested.
"Hm~ Enough to survive at least a little bump from our pet."
"Oooor~ She can do what she did with Aika." Choso spoke while chewing.
"Fine fine!" Gojo looked toward you, "Anyone that you might accidentally kill send them away, can you do that?"
You were caught by surprise when the conversation shifted to you. From their back and forth, you realized they wanted you to be here just as much as you wanted to be here.
"Yeah... I can do that... but it does take some of my energy to do so..." you spoke while cocking your head to the side sheepishly. "...and I am quite...depleted..."
"What do you think I got these for?" Sukuna questioned bringing you the two bowls. Sukuna filled one of the bowls with water and the other with a few scoops of peanuts.
This again… it was their little joke that they came up with after Getou asked if you wanted his nuts and you agreed eagerly only to be disappointed when he gave you a handful of peanuts. You don't even need to eat or drink like a human does. All you needed was their attention and affection, but they knew that all too well. They liked you begging and pleading. They liked you desperate. It was all part of their sadistic ways. Toying with you and searching for your limits.
Sukuna tapped your bowl with a black nail, "Come on pet, go ahead and eat."
You sighed looking into the bowls. You were starting to question if you had any limits or if you were just that far gone.
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Three.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
Me to me: yes just some light pet play, mainly the leash and collar.
Sukuna: and I took that personally
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsukaisen#fanfiction#sukuna#smutwarning#gojo#getou#readerxvarious#gojo x reader#jjk nanami#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#reader x choso#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#getou x you#getou suguru x reader#getou x reader#haibara x reader#yu haibara#sukuna x you#toji fushigro x reader#toji x you#toji fushiguro#toji smut#toji x reader#reverseharem#sexualthemes
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fallen Angel Incorrect Quotes Part 2: Electric Boogaloo
Warning: Cursing
The Smiling Critters Space Riders Au and the character "Z" belongs to @onyxonline
If you haven't checked out the Fallen Angel (Reader Insert) series, you can check out the Masterlist here. The reader will be referred to as both (Y/n) and Archangel. Enjoy!
----------
*Archangel trying on a new outfit*
Crafty: Do you or do you not feel bonita?
Archangel:
Archangel: I feel bonita.
Crafty: Wonderful! Because you look bonita!
----------
Bobby: The reason why you hate physical contact even though you're extremely touch deprived is because it's been so long since you felt loving physical contact from another living being that your brain misperceives it as a threat.
Archangel:
Bobby:
Bobby: So Picky brought home this raspberry lemonade-
----------
*One of the many, MANY fights before the events of Fallen Angel*
Archangel: You'd be stupid to lay a hand on me.
Hoppy: Oh, you'd be surprised how much stupid shit I do.
----------
Archangel: If bees can be fish and boys can be girls, then why can't my dad love me?
Hoppy: I thought I was going to have to yell at you, but now I think I should hug you.
----------
Bobby: A party is a celebration of life, bringing people together to let the guest of honor know how much they're loved. (Y/n) has done so much for us. This is our chance to do something for them.
Bubba: By forcing them to have fun at a party that they don't want to be at?
Bobby: I knew you'd understand.
----------
Archangel: Still not over how yesterday when we landed, Hoppy said we arrived 50 minutes early because she took some "shortcuts."
Archangel: Excuse me, we were in space, what do you mean???
----------
Archangel: I desire moisture.
Picky: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.
----------
Hoppy: (Y/n) is mad at me, and I'm not sure why.
Bubba: Okay, did you talk before they got upset?
Hoppy: ...yes?
Bubba: That's probably it.
----------
Some fan: I wanna be an archangel!
Archangel: What the fuck do you want this shit for? I kill people, all right? Their blood is on my hands! Every night, when I go to sleep, I see their FUCKING faces staring at me! Their families weep, and I FEEL NOTHING! I'M DEAD INSIDE!
That same fan: Man, I want some of that in my life!
----------
Bubba: Don't weep for the stupid. You'll be crying all day.
----------
Archangel: There is no future. There is no past. Don't you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that people insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every fact.
Picky: ... All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake first.
----------
Archangel: What is love?
Dogday: An emotional minefield.
Bubba: A neurochemical reaciton.
Kickin: Baby don't hurt me.
----------
Bubba: I have the sharpest memory here - name one time I forgot something!
Hoppy: You left me, (Y/n), and Catnap in a Walmart parking lot at 2 AM a day ago.
Bubba: I did that on purpose, try again.
----------
Archangel: I'm not funny, I'm just really mean and people think I'm joking.
----------
Z: You're alive.
Archangel: No need to sound so disappointed.
----------
Dogday: I'm going to ask you to be respectful.
Archangel: I will politely decline.
----------
Archangel: And I'd love to be sorry for that, but we all know I've done much, much worse.
----------
Picky: Don't worry, I've got a few knives up my sleeve.
Archangel: I think you mean cards.
Crafty: She did not.
Picky, pulling out knives: I did not.
----------
Archangel: I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.
The Space Riders: Awwww.
Archangel: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."
The Space Riders: Oh.
----------
Archangel: Who the fuck-
Dogday: Language!
Archangel: Whom the fuck-
Dogday: No.
++++++++++
Author's Note: Now that I made a lot of progress with my thesis paper, I'm going to focus on finishing Chapter 3. I don't have an exact date, but it is coming soon. Thank you for your understanding.
#poppy playtime#space riders au#dogday#catnap#hoppy hopscotch#kickinchicken#bubba bubbaphant#bobby bearhug#craftycorn#picky piggy#poppyplaytime au#poppy playtime oc#poppy playtime smiling critters#smiling critters au#smiling critters#x reader#poppy playtime x reader#poppy playtime dogday#poppy playtime catnap#smiling critters x reader#platonic#dogday x oc#incorrect quotes#reader insert#gn reader#gender neutral reader#crack post#crack fanfic#crack fic#shitpost
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
Illicit Affairs | Chapter IX: Seven
Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader
Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter X
Synopsis: As your life comes to an end, someone you never thought you'd see again helps both you and Neteyam navigate your past and future.
Warnings: pure angst, mentions of death, mental illness, addiction, self-injury, no mentions of Y/N, cursing, some fluff, a lot of crying, like too much crying honestly
Word Count: 9,3k words
A/N: The second to last chapter is here, and with it also comes the beginning of the end. I am honestly so sad at the thought of this series finishing, I have spent every minute of my life thinking and living in it, and I am not ready for it to end (wink wink). This chapter was the most emotionally draining piece of writing I have ever done, but I am so happy with the way it turned out. I hope you like it, and that you find some comfort in this story, the way I found comfort in writing it and sharing it with you. I am so so excited about the last chapter, and I will start writing it right away. As always, thank you so much for engaging with my work and for all the support, I loved reading your comments and asks so so much, they make my life honestly. (Pls listen to seven by TS when reading this, I think it will enhance the experience x also jake saying babygirl does things to me ok byee x )
“Please, picture me in the trees, I hit my peak at seven Feet, in the swing over the creek, I was too scared to jump in Please picture me in the weeds, before I learnt civility I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted ...Are there still beautiful things?”
Neteyam left the clearing with so much anger it could be mined as a new energy source. He couldn’t believe this, couldn’t believe you. He was losing you, over and over, and now will lose you permanently. His heart bled so much, he didn’t think he could make it back to the village in the state he was in. He spent the last month of his life, the last month of your life, training you, ignoring his feelings for you, having dinner with another woman, when he should have been loving you, helping you heal and checking in on your human form, that he spent his whole life with and then abandoned for your Avatar. You took everything from him by keeping this a secret. His whole life, his future, the chance at any happiness or hope or trust in loved ones. He would never forgive you for this. You robbed him of everything and your death will bring his own, maybe not physical, but spiritual and emotional.
He didn’t want to go back to the village, couldn’t go back to the village. He couldn’t hear it, couldn’t hear them talking about you, about your death, he couldn’t see them cry and mourn, for the woman he will love as long as his beating heart was still pumping blood, and not die, not collapse due to the overbearing weight of his broken soul. There was only one place he thought to go, only one place he might find any semblance of peace: Vitraya Ramunong, the Tree of Souls.
Norm and the Sullys were still in the tent, discussing ways to get you to accept the consciousness transfer, brainstorming every possible idea, even thinking of literally tying you to a bed and pumping you with the drugs that they knew would buy you, buy them some more time to change your mind. They all jumped at the screech that came from just outside their tent, and Jake got his gun resting by his side and saw the rest of his family arming themselves with bows and knives at the ominous sound. When they made it outside, they were shocked to see your ikran, a beautiful beast, batting her wings aggressively and hissing in their direction.
“What is it, girl?” Jake said, approaching her carefully and petting her head gently. The ikran opened her mouth and took Jake’s hand in hers, which elicited a furious reaction from Neytiri, to which Jake raised his other hand in a calming gesture.
“She’s not hurting me, she’s pulling me away, towards the lab. I think she’s trying to tell us something.”
His heart dropped at the thought of what could your ikran be wanting to show them so ardently, so urgently. He has never seen such behaviour from a banshee, and he realises painfully how much of an imprint you have made on this world, on life all around you. He wishes this world would have made as much of an impact on you, maybe if it had, you wouldn’t want to leave it so soon.
Jake got on the banshee without making the bond, and she immediately took off.
“Take the Ikrans or Pa’li and hurry to the lab, I have a really bad feeling.”
The last thing he saw is his entire family calling for their animals, the hurry and desperation enveloping all of them like a warm, suffocating blanket.
The banshee landed in a small clearing with a river source in the middle of it. It was a beautiful place that Jake has somehow never stumbled through before, but he couldn’t think about it too much when another, more urgent matter caught his eye. A small and fragile frame, motionless on the ground.
“KID!” He jumped from the back of the ikran like it was lava, and ran as quickly as he possibly could, kneeling on the ground next to you. His face immediately went to your masked one, trying to see if he could spot breathing. Two fingers rushed to your throat, looking for a pulse he couldn’t feel.
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, don’t do this to me, baby girl. Come on, please.”
He removed your mask and starting giving you CPR, his two hands wrapped around each other in firsts as he rhythmically compressed your chest in the spot right on top of your heart. Thirty compressions, two breaths, thirty compressions, two breaths. He was trying so hard to remain calm and collected, but his mind was screaming with the image of you on the ground, dead or dying, he still didn’t know, alone, and he felt tears pool in his eyes. You have been alone for such a long time, and he was right: he never tried to understand what you must have been going through, how hard this life must have been for you on this planet your body didn’t belong on, with a soul so bright and wild that was continuously tamed by the fury of your own destiny, with which you battled your whole existence. Losing your mum changed you, finding your dad in the woods broke your spirit, and losing Neteyam took away the last shred of happiness you had, and they watched. He watched, unknowing and ignorant. He will never forgive himself if you died here, in his arms.
He was continuing the CPR when his eyes snapped at something moving above his head. Jake stopped the chest compressions at the sight. Atokirina, dozens of them, floating down gently and peacefully until they reached your body, where they settled for a few seconds, before they all took flight again concomitantly. Jake thought that was a good sign, and, in a desperate attempt to add on to Eywa’s efforts, he brought up his fingers together in a fist, and with all his might, hit your unmoving chest, saying a silent prayer in his mind as he did so.
With wide eyes and laboured breaths, Jake saw the small girl he’s known since she was born come back to life with a violent gasp. You immediately started coughing breathlessly, and Jake put your mask back over your face. He pressed a button and allowed you to take a few short, pained breaths. He felt relief wash all over him, but he knew he needed to go; you weren’t breathing properly, and he saw your face slowly turning purple.
“It’s okay, baby girl. You’re going to be okay.”
With very little effort, Jake lifted you from the ground and carried you in his arms, running as fast as he could do without disturbing you even further. He couldn’t help wince as he was looking at your body, so weak and feeble, so different than the one he remembered. How did this happen? How did Norm and Max allow this?
He made it to the lab shortly, and saw the whole family waiting for him there. Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk all let out a shocked gasp at your lifeless form residing in Jake’s arms, but he couldn’t think about that now, he couldn’t worry about anything other than making sure you will survive this.
Norm and Max let him in with their keycards and motioned hurriedly in the direction of the medical ward. He knew where to go, having been there a few times with soldiers who were sick, as well with his own kids when they got illnesses the Tsahik couldn’t cure. He hurried past all the hallways and entered and put you down as gently as he possibly could. Norm and Max burst through the door, getting all sorts of instruments and machines ready that Jake couldn’t name with a gun to his head. He silently got out of the way, and let them do what they did best.
He got out of the room and grabbed Tuk in his arms, holding her tightly when she nuzzled her head in his neck and started silently sobbing.
“What is going on?” Kiri, one of your best friends in the whole world, your sister, asked through shaky breaths and hushed cries.
“Ma 'ite…” Neytiri said softly, hugging her kids close to her chest.
“She’s sick, isn’t she? Like the people in the village?”
“Yes, my sweet child.”
“But those people died.” Tuk said in between high pitched whimpers.
Jake and Neytiri exchanged a knowing, sorrowful look, and tightened their grip on their children.
Neteyam found the Tree of Souls to be deserted, as most Na’vi would be gone hunting or preparing for the upcoming war this time of day, or just taking shelter from the rain that has been pouring for days with no seeming intention of stopping. He knelt on the ground and peered up at the bright pink and purple tendrils of the sacred willow, taking in the beauty that he is yet to get over, even after coming here his whole entire life. A pained cry escaped his lips at the realisation he will never be able to show this to you. From the second he saw your Avatar body, dreams invaded his subconscious mind, dreams of when you would finally become one of the people, dreams of your soft hair bouncing on your beautiful back while you ran beneath the tree, dreams of his finally being able to make you his, the way he has wanted for so long. You were supposed to become one of the people, you were supposed to be his, his mate and the mother of his children, his Tsahik, the best Tsahik this clan had ever seen. How the fuck was he supposed to come to terms with this heartbreak, how was he ever supposed to be the same person again? You were in his life from the moment you were born. You were born just a couple of months apart, as if Eywa couldn’t wait any longer to join two souls who were meant to be. He couldn’t remember a day in his life when you weren’t there - even if not physically, you were always in his life, in his mind, your light forever permeated through every cell in his body. You were the only fact of life he was sure of, how was he supposed to live without you?
“I have another quote that reminds me of you, though.”
Patting the spot next to you, you signalled for him to lie down. He did, although his legs were completely off the bed, the tiny contraption barely able to accommodate his torso. You let out a small laugh, but seemed happy to have him so close.
You placed your head on his chest, and he prayed you couldn’t hear the way his heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest at your proximity and warmth. You opened the book and looked for the quote.
“Ah, there is it.” You cleared your throat, then continued. “He is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”
“I like that.” He felt bashful at your admission of how you viewed him. You were always braver than him when it comes to your feelings. You never said them out right, but you always gave enough proof through moments like these, when you would sing a song, or read him a section of a book you thought resonated with you.
“Read more. Is there anything else in that book that reminds you of us?”
You blushed, but flipped through more pages. You have him a knowing look, and read from the book you gripped on so tightly your knuckles turned white.
“My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.”
He couldn’t help think of that quote, and how deeply you both felt for each other, how this world is dull and senseless, meaningless and bleak without the other. “If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger”. He never quite understood the magnitude of this quote until today, when he stared at your dying body, until he was here, kneeling under the Tree of Souls, knowing soon you might not be part of his universe anymore, willing to beg Eywa until his knees bleed for another chance, for one more try.
“Great Mother,” he starts as he reaches for the queue and brings it to one of the tendrils he was softly grasping in his hand, “I need your help. I’m begging you for help.”
His queue wraps around the mauve willow branch and he inhales faintly at the bond, as he is transported across dimensions, to another plane of being, higher than any living thing had access to except in this way.
He woke up in the last place he thought he would, the lab. The damn lab, with its white, too-white walls and a smell that always burned his nostrils and a coldness that he would never get used to, no matter how many days he has spent here in his life. Without you in it, it was unnatural and unwelcoming, and he didn’t want to be here a second longer than he needed to.
“Ma 'itan.” he heard a voice call out to him from inside one of the rooms, and he made his way slowly towards it, feet hurting from the biting temperature of the smooth tiles. He passed a mirror that was hung on one of the walls, and was startled to see himself in it, only it appeared more like a window to the past, as the face looking back at him was young, no older than 10.
He continued on, and eventually reached it. It was dark, except the light from a computer screen and one desk lamp gently illuminating the room. Sat on a chair was a woman, beautiful and elegant, with light curly hair that reached her torso and kind features, that reminded him so much of her daughter, so much so that it made his heart constrict in pain.
“Neteyam, my boy, it’s so good to see you!”
“Auntie Jo?”
“You’ve grown so much, ma 'itan. You’ve become a handsome young man.”
“Auntie Jo, what’s going on? Why am I here?”
“You’ve come to ask for help from the Great Mother. The Great Mother doesn’t take sides, son, you know that. She protects only the balance of life.”
“Yes, and her life hangs in the balance. I need Eywa to help, I need Eywa to save her, because her life has never been balanced. There’s never been anything fair about her life, and this second chance is the balance. It’s what she deserves, a lifetime of happiness to make up for all the hurt the Universe has put her through.”
“I see you are still my daughter’s angel, even after all this time. You always took care of her, from when you were both babies. We used to put you in the same crib and you would go to sleep holding hands. You both used to cry whenever it was time for us to return to the lab. Eventually, we had to give you a piece of clothing of the other, so you could sleep peacefully through the night. I always knew you were supposed to end up together. It’s part of the reason I worked so hard to decode the Avatar for her.”
“She’s dying. She’s dying and there’s nothing I can do! I need you to help me save her, I need to do something, I need something to stop the way it feels like I’m being ripped apart at every seam in my body. I have never known such pain, I never knew it was possible for a body to hurt so badly from a wound that doesn’t even exist.”
The woman rose from the chair and took Neteyam in her arms, allowing him to place his head on her shoulders and cry. Neteyam tightened his arms around her and held her, crying, releasing all the grief he was feeling for his love, for his future, for her.
“If you feel it, son, then it exists. If you feel her, then she exists, and she will exist forever. In truth, there is nothing any of us can do, except love her and be there for her. My daughter has grown so much, and so much grief grew along with her. And she learnt how to let grief grow until it is so big it cannot be contained within her body from me. But there’s still time for her to grow, too. Grow bigger than the grief. She needs you, Neteyam. She needs you to be her light one last time. She needs you right now. You should go before it’s too late.”
Neteyam woke up like from a dream and removed his queue from the tree so quickly it hurt him and he felt the pain travel all the way to the tip of his toes. It didn’t matter, he thought. He could be scalped right now and he would still be calling his ikran with enough might to wake up the entire forest. As soon as she arrived at the foot of the tree, he got on her and motioned for her to take off, no other thoughts than the words your mother uttered echoing in his ears. I need to get to the lab, fuck, I hope I’m not too late. I can’t be too late. It can’t be too late.
He completely spaced out until he reached the lab, so it was like he blinked and he was there. He saw your ikran next to the entrance of the lab and felt his pulse quicken so fast he almost fell off his own with how faint it made him. He knocked on the door forcefully and incessantly until Lo’ak came and opened it. His baby brother’s eyes were red and damp and he looked sick and tired; Neteyam couldn’t remember the last time he has ever seen Lo’ak in this state - he didn’t think he ever had. The lump that formed in Neteyam’s throat stopped him from speaking, and he looked at his brother with desperation laced on every feature, silently pleading to be put out of his misery.
“She collapsed outside the lab. She was in a clearing a few minutes from here. Her ikran came to the village and took dad to where she was, and he brought her here.”
Lo’ak started crying again, bringing a hand to his face to hide himself, and Neteyam took him in his arms and hugged him.
“She was dead, bro. Dad said she was dead. Her heart stopped and he managed to start it back up again, but she has been in the room with Norm and Max for a while, she won’t wake up. She’s been sick for a month and we didn’t know. I didn’t know!”
Neteyam let Lo’ak cry it out, feeling his own hurt being pushed aside at the sight of his baby brother needing a shoulder to cry on. He couldn’t be weak when his family needed him.
Eventually they made their way down the corridor until they reached the rest of their family, and he saw it, saw you, and it immediately made his sick. He’s struggled to keep down whatever food he still had in his system at the terrorising sight - you, lying on a white framed bed, unconscious, with tubes coming in and out of you, so many tubes he was losing count. He saw the tubes coming out of machines that were beeping, and one of them was removing blood from your body and then pushing it back in, and Neteyam felt weak in the knees taking it all in.
FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE IV: BARGAINING
You woke up in a daze, feeling heavy and numb, like that one time you were 16 and you took one too many sleeping pills and you needed 3 days to ride out the consequences. You frowned deeply at the bright artificial lights that were bearing down on you, and you realised you were in the medical ward of the hub. You faintly heard the ECG machine beeping, and you knew at least you weren’t dead yet. You don’t know how much time it’s been, the last thing you remember is Neteyam turning his back on you in the clearing.
“You’re a coward…”
You felt your heart hurt, although the pain was not physical, it wasn’t an arrhythmia or fibrillation or asystole, it was worse. It was a kind of pain you can’t fix with some pills or a defibrillator or some epinephrine to restart the heart. It didn’t work that way. This pain you would have to ride out, have to hope it will pass in time.
He was right. You were a coward, have been your whole life. There was no point denying it any longer, no point hiding behind a facade of eye rolls and straight faces. You killed yourself slowly and painfully, for years - taking pills, taking too many pills, ignoring the pleas from your mind that told you it was slowly losing focus, that couldn’t handle pain as well anymore, that couldn’t sleep unless it was practically mush by the time your head hit the pillow. You told yourself it was unfortunate that you got the virus, that you hated it and that you were working for cure, but in reality you were kind of relieved when it happened. Because now you had an excuse, and you didn’t have to do any of the heavy lifting yourself.
You were a coward, refusing to get help or let yourself be loved, let yourself be mourned, because you didn’t want to deal with it. You refused to tell Neteyam, the man who has loved you and been your rock your whole life, who, despite everything that went on between you, would always be yours, and who you knew would suffer immensely because of your passing, because you didn’t want to suffer with him. You didn’t tell Norm and Max, because you knew they would make you get help, and try to get you to heal and stay alive longer, and you didn’t want that. You didn’t tell Jake or Neytiri, or the kids, because no parent or sibling should have to watch their kid, their sister die, and you thought by pushing them away and blaming them for Neteyam’s indiscretion, you would be able to soften the blow. But most of all, you didn’t tell them because you didn’t want to know that people do love you, would suffer because of you, that your death impacted lives around you. You didn’t need the guilt.
Nobody was paying attention to you, you realised. You briefly saw Norm and Max hurrying around you out of the corner of your eye, and saw a dialysis machine retrieving your blood through a tube coming from your neck. You were going into multiple organ failure, you deduced. Your heart and lungs were shot, your kidneys were shot, you didn’t have much time left.
You wanted to speak, you wanted to scream for Neteyam, for all of them, and apologise. You knew what it meant to lose people, better than most. You were sorry for knowing you will put these people you loved so much through so much pain. You were sorry things turned out like this, that you weren’t stronger, that your heart was so broken it found comfort in the pain and was too scared to heal. The tube coming out of your mouth didn’t allow for that. You felt tears falling from your eyes and then slowly the heaviness taking over, pushing your eyelids shut, and the last thing you heard was the unmistakable sound of a flatline, and screams all around you.
You woke up dazed, needing a few second to take in your surroundings. You had no idea where you were, it isn’t a place you have ever seen before. You looked, trying to accommodate to the light shining brightly from an orb in the sky, and when you couldn’t see Polyphemus and its moons in the sky, you knew you were no longer on Pandora. It took a while, but you eventually realised you were on Earth. You turned around, taking in all of your surroundings, and felt amazed at the unfamiliar new sights. In front of you stood a house. On the smaller side (you thought, based on all the Hollywood movies you’ve seen), with a blue paintcoat and surrounded by a short brown fence, it had flowers you were fascinated by and shrubbery surrounding it, giving it an unkept look - you loved it. It was not like the houses you have seen in the movies, perfect and artificial, with human precision to ruin what Mother Earth put there for a reason. Behind you were paved roads, but nobody was around. There were no other houses, the one in front of you solitary and quiet, except for a rhythmic sound you could hear from somewhere behind it, although you could not place it, as the house was on a little hill.
You made your way towards the entrance quietly, and were pleasantly surprised when the little fence opened at your slightest push, so you continued through the cobblestone path, until you were standing face to face with a white door. You felt yourself curiously knocking on it, hoping someone could let you in and explain to you what was going on, why were you here, what was this place? Was this the afterlife? Were you in heaven?
After waiting a few minutes at the door with no answer, you touched the handle and pressed gently, surprised again when it opened to you. You felt a strange smell envelop you, it was a completely new olfactory experience than you have ever had, and you realised you loved it - it was a rich and warm smell, and you had to swallow as it seemed to trigger hunger in your system. The room you were in was a little claustrophobic, but you couldn’t help thinking if was homely and snug and felt a strange familiarity as you walked through the dimly lit narrow hallway. Right by the entrance to the right was a brighter, doorless room that probably served as a library once - the walls were covered in thick mahogany shelves filled to the brim with colourful books, and a beautiful dark brown desk was placed in the middle of it, with a fuzzy looking carpet adorning the wooden floors. Further in the hallway, frames with photos of people you couldn’t really place were decorating the blue walls and you smiled taking them all in. A photo of 3 people at the beach, a family, you noted, a photo in a beautiful location somewhere in the mountains, a photo of a dad carrying a small girl on his back, both of them laughing widely - all so beautiful, so intimate. On one of the images was scribbled something that caught your attention. It was an image of a girl, young and beautiful, with light and wavy hair and holding what you knew from movies to be a graduation gown, throwing her cap in the air. The handwritten note on it said “Our little Marj graduating summa cum laude at only 18! - Johns Hopkins, June 2123.”
Shocked, you removed the frame from the wall and looked at it closer. Your mum. This was your mum’s house, the house she grew up in as a child. What were you doing here? What was happening to you? You held on to the picture as you moved through the house that eventually opened into a big and brightly lit room, that served as both the kitchen and the living room. In the corner of the room lay a beautiful grand piano and a few guitars, all on stands. Through the big windows and the door that opened to the backyard, you saw a large body of water, and you realised the noises you were hearing earlier were waves, crashing on the sandy beach. You have never seen anything like it and couldn’t help stare for a while, just taking in the beauty of this world you never thought you would be able to experience for yourself. You found yourself picking up one of the guitars on the stand that you knew was your mum’s, since it was the same one you have…. had on Pandora, and opened the door to the outside, slowly walking towards the open sea.
You frowned as you made your way through the fine warm sand at all these new experiences and sensations you have never had before, and the frown deepened at a blanket on the ground, almost inviting you to sit down, almost as if it was laid out for you. Feeling safe and blissful in this new world you now inhabited, you allowed yourself to do as you were silently bid.
You loved the malleable feeling of the sand as you stretched your legs and noticed it moved to accommodate your body. The blanket was soft, and you felt inspired to pick up the guitar and tune it, strumming it gently. You couldn’t believe what was happening to you, the fact that you were here, on Earth, in your mum’s childhood home. You didn’t know what to think, but you thought that if this is death, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.
“My love.”
That voice. Your breathing and hands both stopped to bring you to a dead still. Your eyes immediately filled with tears that spilled like effortless waterfalls, a visceral reaction to a voice you never thought you’d ever hear again. Your head snapped in the direction of the voice so quickly it gave you whiplash, but you didn’t care. Nothing else mattered in this life but this voice.
“Mum??” You got up to your feet as rapidly as your human body could handle and ran in the arms of the woman you loved more than anything in this world, more than life itself. You were sobbing as you removed yourself form her arms, touching her face with your hands, touching her arms, making sure she was real, that she was here.
“Oh my God, baby, it’s ok, I’m right here.”
She was trying to calm you down enough so you could utter a word, but you couldn’t, you couldn’t stop wailing, couldn’t stop your body expelling so many tears you completely soaked the top of her t-shirt.
Slowly, she moved you to where you were sat just a few minutes ago, and you were a blubbering mess, unable to utter a single syllable to this woman you have spoken enough to fill out novels in your dreams, in your thoughts, in your soul.
“You’re alright, my love. Everything’s alright.” She was removing tears as they fell from your eyes with her palm, gently cupping your face and smiling at you, with enough warmth you knew it could power up this whole world if she let it.
Eventually, you found your voice. “Mum, what is this? How are you here? Am I dead?”
She laughed at your barrage of questioning, remembering fondly how you have always been such a curious cat, always had so many questions for her, relentless in your quest for knowledge.
“You’re with Eywa, my love. We’re with Eywa. And no, you are not dead yet.”
“Yet?”
“Yes, baby. It seems Eywa is not quite done with you yet.”
“What does the Great Mother want from me?”
“I think she wants you to make a choice, baby.”
“I’ve already made my choice.”
“I don’t think you have, my love.”
You thought about her words for a while. You thought you made your choice. I mean, you were here, weren’t you? Dead. Or in purgatory, one of the two, but still, not alive. You thought about your life. About your beautiful mother sitting in front of you, and the moment she gave her last breath to the world. Her funeral, rain pouring over you like the endless sorrow that hasn’t left you since. You thought about how hard it was to sleep at night, how the nightmares never stopped, how the sadness became a confidant you knew you could never shake - you knew you didn’t want to shake. You thought about your dad - the guilt you felt because of him, his actions, his murders, how they haunted you in dark corridors, how the Na’vi people cursed you in your dreams and told you you were a demon, just like he was. You thought about his body in the woods, his exo-suit that he left a few steps behind, and how you couldn’t walk barefoot after that. You thought about the pills, your only friends, the only cure for your debilitating insomnia. You thought about your sleep paralysis demons, crawling on top of you and sitting on your chest until you couldn’t breathe anymore, watching you scream and laughing at you mockingly, how they always looked like you, how they were just a dark, cursed version of yourself, the you you knew you looked like in your soul. You thought about Neteyam leaving - the last straw, the one that left you irreparably broken, the one that skinned you alive and left you for dead.
You thought you made your choice.
“I miss you, ma. So much.” The crying never stopped, but you held her hand and tried to revel in the feeling, in knowing she was here and you were with her. Even if you weren’t sure about your choice before, you were when you looked into her bright and caring eyes. “I just found you, I can’t lose you again.”
“I miss you, too, bunny. I have kept an eye on you for almost 9 years, everyday regretting not fighting harder to be in your life.”
You frowned at her words. “You fought hard, ma. Your death was a tragedy, but it was unavoidable.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean maybe?”
“I mean I fell in the same bad patterns as you did, bunny. I could have asked Mo’at for the transfer, but I didn’t. Just like you didn’t. It hurts me so much to see you make the same mistakes as I did. I love you so much, and I wish I could have healed enough in life to not bestow on you this grief. I wish I could have been braver and stronger, I wish I could have asked for help when I felt like the world was caving in on itself on top of me. Maybe if I did, then you wouldn’t be here.
When your dad died, most of me died along with him. Having to have and raise you by myself was the toughest thing I have ever had to brave. And I’d like to think I did a good job, and it was easy enough, because you were the best baby anyone’s ever had, but inside I was screaming. Every night was hell and I struggled with surviving for the rest of my life. When the cancer came, I was terrified to leave you, I was terrified of knowing you would have to be in this world alone, but selfishly, I was relieved. Because the hurt would finally stop. Mo’at, Jake, Neytiri, Norm, Max, everyone tried to get me to accept the consciousness transfer, but I didn’t. Because it was my consciousness that was killing me slowly. A new body wasn’t going to change that.”
You were reeling at the confession, finding it hard to keep breathing, hard to keep going, even in death. Was there no peace? Were you never going to be at peace? You felt so sad at her words, so angry at her admitting she didn’t let you in, that she abandoned you without fighting as hard as she possibly could to heal, to stay alive for you. She lied about being happy, about you being everything she ever needed, she died without even trying the consciousness transfer. How could she ever d-
You gasped in shock at the realisation.
“What, was I supposed to find you dead one day and that was it? That was what I deserved from you, after all the blood, sweat and tears I gave you? You said I took your choice away. You wouldn’t have even given me a choice to say goodbye to the love of my life before you fucking died!”
“You had a choice. You could have come to the many people who love you, love you unconditionally, and told us, and let us in, and let us help you. You could have gotten help, taken the pills, fight your damn hardest to make this work, to find a cure, for the life your mum gave you, the life she would have to watch you throw away. You have a choice now. To want to live, to want to fight through this and come out the other side a new, better person. To let me love you, let people love you. To do the consciousness transfer and be with me, and be happy, forever. And you’re choosing this.“
“Baby, are you still with me?”
All of a sudden, all new thoughts entered your mind from the ones before. You thought you made your choice. But then you thought about Pandora, the beautiful world you loved so much, that despite not being born for, you climbed its trees and ran its grounds like you had. You thought about how happy laying on the grass made you, just feeling how each blade tickled your skin and brought a laughter that was so pure, so unassuming - so real. You thought about your guitar, and the guitar Neteyam gave you, and the peace you felt when you played them, when you sang your feelings, like a litany to cleanse your soul.
You thought about Kiri - your beautiful sister who you scoured the woods with, finding rocks and flowers and watching her crafting necklaces while the light shone brightly on your faces. You thought about Lo’ak. Your movie marathons, the endless laughter and the warmth he brought to your soul, that felt forever childlike when around him. You thought about Spider, the monkey boy who was the only one who could truly understand what you were going through as a human child growing on a different planet.
You thought about Norm and Max, how they raised you without ever asking for anything in return, how they kept you in their lab and bestowed upon you all of their knowledge and skill and the look they gave you whenever you put anything they taught you to good use. You thought about Jake and Neytiri, your surrogate parents that you always pushed away, and they always came back, loving you unconditionally despite all your emotional shortcomings. You thought about Tuk, how she looked at you like you were the most amazing sister she had, how you used to be the only one who could put her to sleep when she was a fussy infant, how she loved your voice and clung to your every word.
You thought about your mum, who despite being gone for almost a decade, you still felt in you every day, whenever you touched a book you know she loved, whenever you were in the lab, whenever you looked in the mirror and the eyes that greeted you might as well be hers. Finally, you thought about Neteyam. The person you loved more than life itself, more than the sun and the moon, more than every star in the sky. The person who has been here all your life, who stood by you no matter what, who only left so you didn’t have to suffer further. You thought about his smile, his eyes which were like the lighthouse that would always guide you home, his touch that brought life back into you, his love for you, that shone bright and eternal.
You realised then you weren’t ready to say goodbye to all of those things, you wanted more, needed more. You wanted to know what it was like to live, fully live, you wanted to know what it felt like to have a proper family, you wanted to give yourself fully to the man you loved, you wanted to know if your kids would have your mum’s eyes and their dad’s kindness and patience. You wanted to experience Pandora’s sky with Neyn, and you wanted to find a cure for the virus that killed you. You wanted to help the Na’vi fight the Sky People, and you wanted to show them there are good humans out there, and you come from one, and are one. You needed more time.
You were crying so hard you felt your hand going and grasping at your heart, trying to somehow claw through your chest and grasp it in your palms and hold it, trying to stop it from hurting. “I need to go back. I have to go back, I need more time.”
As soon as you said that, you heard a sound coming from the sky, almost like far away thunder. You didn’t know what it was, but you didn’t have time to think about it.
“Ma, I have to go back. I have to make it right. I’m not ready, mum. I’m not ready to go yet.”
“I know, baby. It seems you finally made your choice.”
You saw far into the distance, and saw the edges of the world dissipate slowly, leaving behind a white glow in their wake. You knew what was coming, you knew the one thing you still had to do before it happened.
“Mum, I forgive you. I’m so sorry life took so much from you and I am sorry I couldn’t help more. I’m sorry you had to hurt alone. I love you so much, I will always love you. You will always be a part of me. I forgive you.”
You saw your beautiful mum take a deep breath in, and her body started glowing with the same glow that was gently overtaking the world.
“I have roamed this world for almost 10 years, unable to move on. I am finally free, my love. I can rest now. Thank you.”
Before she would inevitably leave you again, you needed to know one more thing.
“Mum, was my dad evil?”
“Oh, baby. Your dad was a beautiful soul, and although he had many flaws, he was not evil. When you are ready to open your bottom desk drawer, make sure you look around you as well. All will be revealed in time, my love. And listen to Kiri more when she talks to you about plants, you might be surprised what could come of it.” She smiled kindly and gave you a mischievous wink, and with that, she vanished.
“MUM!” You screamed, anguished at losing her again.
You heard her voice echo in the sky.
“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
You smiled through tears at the poem she used to read you at least once a week when you were a baby. Once it was done, her voice was replaced with another, and you realised what the previous sounds in the sky were. The only voice in the world that mattered.
“Atan! Please come back, please come back. You can’t leave me, please!”
I’m coming, my light.
“Push another round of Epi.”
Neteyam watched as the two humans were working tirelessly to try to bring you back to life. He thought he knew what pain was, what grief and sorrow were, but realised he didn’t - not until the last 30 minutes, as he saw you die in front of him, not until he saw your body being electrocuted and needles going in your heart, not until not any of this torture worked, not until you were still dead, not until his worst fear in life materialised like a bad magic trick.
“We’ve been doing this for too long, Norm. Even if she comes back now, her brain was without oxygen for 30 minutes and I-“
“Just fucking do it, Max!”
Neteyam saw Norm get the machine with the two pads that shocked your body ready again, and he felt himself hope, just a little hope, for the last time. He heard himself talk over the noise, over the constant flat tone of the machine that was connected to your heart.
“Atan! Please come back, please come back. You can’t leave me, please!”
Norm put the pads on your body as soon as Max injected you with what they called Epi.
“CLEAR!” He screamed and pressed the handles of the pads, and your body convulsed violently at the shock they administered.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The room went completely quiet. He saw Norm and Max look at you with mouths agape and then look at each other. Then they started crying.
“We have sinus rhythm.”
Neteyam felt his heartbeat thump in his chest, felt dizzy and confused. The beeping was different than the tone he heard before. Why were they crying? He turned around to face his family and noticed them hugging, and laughing wildly, screaming and crying at the sight, and he let himself believe, for a second, that this was not bad news.
“What is sinus rhythm?” He said, voice hoarse from the amount of crying he had lived through.
“She’s alive.” Norm says through panted breaths and muted tears.
She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.
It felt like Neteyam took his first breath, like he was born again. They say every Na’vi is born twice, and although the second one was technically when he became a man, he would argue the second time was right now. Those words brought him back to life, in an instant and he felt like he could finally breathe. He could finally live.
“Neteyam”, Max puts a hand on his shoulder, “She’s been dead for 30 minutes. She is alive, but we don’t know what state she will be in when and if she wakes.”
No, you will be fine. He had no doubt in his mind anymore. Eywa has spoken. Eywa brought you back for a reason.
Hours passed, and you didn’t wake. The two scientists gave you pills and liquids that were going in you through various tubes in your body. Neteyam was tortured at the sight, but was consoled with knowing these were keeping you alive. Eventually, they left you to rest, not being able to do anything more until you would wake up… if you woke up. His parents and siblings, and Spider also left, not too far, as they decided to sleep in the hub. Neteyam stood by your side the whole time. He held your hand which felt so small in his much bigger one, and found himself tracing every hair, blemish and vein on your arm. His gaze then shifted onto your face, which looked peaceful, a deep contrast to the one he saw just half a day ago, although it felt like a different life ago. Your beautiful lips were slightly parted as you were breathing with the help with a transparent mask that covered half your face. Your cheeks had a rosy tint to it, and were marked by shadows given by your eyelashes that were resting on them. Your forehead was finally free of the scowl or frown that seemed to plague it most days, giving you a serene look about you. Angel.
Neteyam’s gaze fell around the room, taking in all the equipment that was required to keep you alive. He learned that the beeping machine was called an electrocardiogram, and through the little sensors on your chest, it could feel your heartbeat. He learned that the machine that was pumping your blood was called a dialysis machine, and it was helping you clear your blood of waste since your body couldn’t do that by itself anymore. He learned the mask was helping you breathe, since you body couldn’t that by itself either. He was eternally grateful to these machines, and the men wielding them, for the part they were playing in you not being taken away from him. He has never liked humans, but more and more, he could understand their beauty, and that, in their own way, they were just doing their best - isn’t that the only thing one can hope for?
Neteyam was pulled out of his musings by the tiniest movement of your hand that was rested in his. He immediately snapped his eyes to your hand, and gasped loudly when you moved again - just a small twitch, nothing more, but it was enough to electrify his entire body, deep shockwaves running through him from where you touched him to each extremity. His gaze shifted on to your face, and his breath stopped when his eyes met yours. You looked tired, so tired, but alive. Your eyes crinkled at the sides as you gave him a smile, and his world shifted on its axis, never to be the same again. Your hand slowly and shakily made its way to the mask rested on your face, and you pulled on it until it came off, looking like the movement hurt, like it took all the effort you had. He could see your smile properly now, the most beautiful sight he has ever laid his eyes on - this world, the sky, this entire universe could not hold a candle to this smile.
“Hi.” You said through shallow panted breaths.
Neteyam cried, his tears flowing freely, the weight of this day bearing down on him heavily, even as he was watching you, feeling you, seeing you alive. He smiled as he brought his big hand to your face, and cupped it as gently as he knew how. You put your hand over his slowly and deliberately, and continued smiling even with the tears that were making their way down your cheeks and into your smile.
“Hi.” That’s all he could say, and he knew it was enough.
It was insane - the thought of having to leave your side for even the split of a second, but he knew his family would never forgive him if he didn’t tell them you were awake. So he went, running through the corridors of the labs and hub, trying to find his way, screaming for them at the top of his lungs, hoping he wouldn’t have to waste time searching. Eventually, they came out panicked, praying they won’t have to hear the worst. They were exalted when that wasn’t the case, and Neteyam saw his three younger siblings, as well as his honorary brother, run as fast as the lab allowed towards the room you were in. He followed suit, sending a glowing, relieved, happy smile towards their parents, which they returned with the same enthusiasm. Norm and Max were already in the room when they arrived, alerted by all the commotion. They were checking in on you, adjusted medicines and slowly removing the mask from around your face.
You were in a lot of pain, that you could feel even with the morphine you knew was supposed to keep your body nice and numb, although you suspected you were the reason it wasn’t working as well as it should. You felt every breath, every heartbeat, like it was a shot to the chest, but you didn’t complain, and stood there as your two favourite humans were working hard trying to make sure you were going to be alive for longer than a few minutes this time. You felt an immense sense of gratitude at their help and their incessant need to keep you safe and healthy, despite how horribly you treated both of them. You hoped you can earn their forgiveness in time. In time… you smiled softly at the thought. You had time.
FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE V: ACCEPTANCE
You were startled at all the sounds and voices coming from the corridors, and you jumped out of your skin when you saw four figures rushing towards you smiling and crying, laughing at you and approaching your body and the bed without concern for all the equipment or the tubes, or Norm and Max. You tried laughing at the endearing sight, but could only manage a forced exhale.
“You’re alive!” Tuk’s soft sobs brought you to tears again, all the events of the last few days quickly taking a toll on your already jagged body.
You nodded softly at her, giving her the biggest smile you could muster. You looked up at Lo’ak and Kiri and felt them taking each of your hand in theirs and tugging at them, holding you with whatever they could without inconveniencing you too much. Lo’ak was tugging at the IV going in your vein, making it hurt, but you couldn’t care less. You were so happy to see him, see them, so happy they found it in their infinite hearts to forgive you. You didn’t know how you still had enough fluid in you to produce even more tears, but there they were, falling again.
Neteyam walked into the room with his parents, who both brought their hands to their face at the sight of you, and looked at you with so much love your heart tugged painfully. You couldn’t speak, there were no words to convey the love and appreciation you had for them, for this family you gained, the family you would never leave again. Instead, you weakly, with all the power you had, brought your curled finger to your forehead and motioned towards them. I see you, I’m sorry. I see you.
Neytiri let out a cry and approach your legs, which she grabbed with her hands and held them softly, giving you a small squeeze.
Neteyam made his way to your side again, and pushed Lo’ak out of the way so he could be close to you, and took your hand in his again, holding to you tightly. You have never seen him like this, so possessive, so desperate to hold you, and you thought you would probably be the same if you watched him die in front of you. You brought his hand to your lips slowly and kissed it. Thank you.
You would have a lifetime to catch up and tell them everything you have wanted to say out loud your whole life but were too afraid to, but in order to do that, you had one thing to do first. You turned your attention to Kiri, who was still holding on to the arm Neteyam wasn’t.
Finally, you found your voice. It was raw and guttural, and cracked every other word, but it was there. You would learn to use it again in time.
“What do you say you and me kill this virus, forever?”
Passed down like folk songs, Our love lasts so long
Tag list (thank you thank you thank you x): @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @inomoikawa @jackiehollanderr @jaysarchiv3 @meivap @dakotali @hlhl99 @eskamybeloved @erenjaegerwifee @winchestertitties @mommyneytiri @ultimatebluff @elizarikaallen @yeosxxx @ssc7514 @lolcaca @jackiehollanderr @bunnyrose01 @therealbloom @neteyams-queue @ @r1dd1kulus
#neteyam#neteyam x human!reader#neteyam x reader#neteyam fanfic#neteyam reader#neteyam sully#avatar#avatar twow#avatar fanfic#neteyam x avatar!reader#neteyam sully fanfiction#neteyam angst#awow#awow neteyam#loak reader#avatar loak#jake sully#dilf jake sully#sully!reader#sully family x reader#sully family x sully!reader
544 notes
·
View notes
Text
The King's Men - Chapter Three
Day: Thursday, January 4th Time: 7:20 PM EST
"What did I say yesterday?" Neil asked her. "Why did you react like that?" It didn't take her long to remember. "About the knives, you mean." When Neil nodded, she turned her hands over and considered her palms. "You remember I told you I used to be in a gang? There was a man there who went out of his way to hurt me. He liked knives and kept a half-dozen on him at all times. I couldn't defend myself by normal means, so I learned to fight with knives, too. I practiced for a year before I finally bested him. "'Bested'." Renee contemplated the word choice for a few moments before saying, "He didn't survive the fight. Boss helped stage the body so we could pin it on a rival gang and I was promoted. I kept the knives through my trial and my adoption. I wanted to remember what darkness I'm capable of—and what darkness I'm capable of surviving." "You did what you had to do," Neil said. "If he lived he would have come back for you." "I know," Renee said, soft. "There were other girls before I caught his eye; there would be girls after I left. But I didn't do it for the greater good. I did it because he wronged me personally and I didn't want to be afraid of him anymore. I regret what it did to me more than I regret the necessity of his death. I felt no horror when I watched him die. I was proud of what I'd done to him. "I told Andrew what I did," Renee said. "The next day while I was at class he broke into my room and took my knives. When I asked for them back, he said I was lying to myself. If I wanted to remember, I wouldn't hide the knives in my closet like a shameful secret I couldn't revisit or let go of. They weren't doing me any good, so he said he would carry them until I needed them again. "I let him have them because I trusted him not to use them," Renee said. "I thought he understood what they were supposed to be: not weapons anymore but a symbol of what we've overcome. I didn't ask him for his reasons. I knew he would tell me if he wanted me to know." The obvious answer was Drake, but it didn't add up quite right. Neil turned it over in his head, working his way through it, and thought about the scars on Andrew's forearms. Who had Andrew survived: Drake or himself? Neil wasn't going to share that idea with Renee, so he said, "So those knives he brings everywhere are yours?" "Were mine," Renee said. "He was right; I don't need them anymore. If you need them, he will give them to you, and I will teach you how to use them." She wasn't smiling anymore. Neil studied her calm expression and knew she meant it. She'd put her faith in mankind and her Christian piety on hold and show him how to cut a man open throat to groin if he asked her to. Neil was starting to understand why Andrew liked her. She was crazy enough to be interesting. "Thank you," Neil said, "but no. I don't want to be like—him." He didn't say he'd used knives before; one couldn't grow up a Wesninski without having a blade pushed into his hand. Nathan didn't have the time or patience to teach his son but he'd put two of his people to the task. Luckily Neil left home before he progressed past cutting up hunks of dead animals. "Of course," Renee agreed. She waited a moment to see if anything else was forthcoming, then got to her feet. "I shouldn't keep Allison waiting, but if you want to talk more later you know where to find me." "Okay," Neil said.
Art used with permission by Aymmidumps. Thank you @aymmidumps
#aftg#all for the game#neil josten#tkm#the kings men#the foxhole court#andrew minyard#palmetto state university#psu foxes#andreil#on this day in aftg#otdiaftg#palmetto state foxes#otdi all for the game#nora sakavic#the foxes#on this day in all for the game#kevin day#nicky hemmick#aaron minyard#coach wymack#betsy dobson#abby winfield#matt boyd#dan wilds#renee walker#allison reynolds#artists#aymmidumps
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Come With Knives Pt9
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Wow two chapters of this in such a short span of time?! Yeah, I'm procrastinating shut up. Not proofread
Warnings: references to blood drinking, ignoring consent/ignoring autonomy, some violence, trauma (that's a given), references/mentions of past abuse
Word Count: 1,760
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
I Come With Knives Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
“I trade in blood and the potions that can be wrung from it. I’m more than happy to make you one, if you’d honor me with your blood.” Araj Oblodra smiles. It’s not warm or welcoming; something devious dances across her face. It makes you uncomfortable. “With one drop, I can brew a rather potent potion for you. The rest, I keep for myself.”
You can’t hide the grimace that overtakes your face. ‘Sanguineous arts’ already struck an odd chord within you, but asking for your blood? And even going so far as to keep some for herself? “What will you do with the rest?”
“The excess would be used for my experiments. I’m always working to find ways to make stronger potions. Who knows what the blood of a True Soul could do for even a rather simple mixture?”
You cringe. “Not interested, sorry.”
She sighs, scowling. “A pity. Although, perhaps there’s one more thing we can discuss: your friend.” She looks at Astarion, but not as the person he is. Her eyes scan him over like she’s looking at an object, studying a rare work of art. Astarion notices it, too. She turns her eyes from him and he’s relieved to be spared from that look, if only temporarily. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn, at least.”
Astarion slapped on a fake grin. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re all friends under the Absolute.” He lifts his chin, donning an air of confidence. “I won’t bite.”
“Oh I’d prefer if you did.” She smirks. An uneasy feeling settles heavily in your gut. His mask slips. “I assume he belongs to you?”
Your eyes shoot wide open. “Excuse me?” The question has you reeling. It takes you a moment to find your words. “He’s his own person!”
She laughs and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable.” For a brief moment, all you see in her place are the faces of all the loyal subjects under her. She turns to the elf, head held high so she’s looking down her nose at him with a sneer. “Do you have a name, spawn?”
When you look over, Astarion is shifting uneasy in his armor. He’s used to being reduced to nothing - less than human, only fit for someone else’s gain. But it hadn’t happened since the crash. This was… a lot. “Astarion, but hold on-”
“Good,” Araj cuts him off with a smirk. “Now, Astarion.” You want to throw up when she says his name like that. “I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl.”
He balks. “I’m sorry? You want to be bitten?”
Something otherly and unsettling sets into her face and voice as she speaks. “To feel your life’s blood slipping away? To dance on the edge between life and death?” Her voice is airy as she says, “Yes, I want it.” You’re fortunate enough it goes back to being somewhat normal when she returns to talking about business. “I’ll even compensate you - a potion of legendary power that forever increases the strength of the one who consumes it. It’s not for sale, but it’s yours if you bite me.”
“I will have to decline.”
“Excuse me?” she scoffs. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you’re squandering it.”
Astarion scowls, creases deepening with the anger in his expression. “I gave you my answer.”
Araj still looks furious when she turns on you. “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”
Your hand twitches by your dagger, but it’s not blind fear that rules you. This is entirely different from the Gur. He’d been on the hunt for you, to bring you back to Berdusk and your master. All Araj cared about was Astarion. All she wanted was for him to bite her, even when he said no. This was not fear, this was anger.
“Can’t you understand ‘no’? He’s not going to bite you.” You glared at the drow. Whatever shock you felt before had been pushed aside. She didn’t care about Astarion’s free will, and she never would. She was just like all the others you’d seen that ache for a vampire’s bite.
She gasps like she’s been insulted to her very core. “It’s obvious you’ve let him indulge plenty in your own neck. Is that it, then? You want him all to yourself?”
You don’t know what happened. Everything is a blur, a flurry of motion that makes your head spin. Once you process where you are, ice floods your veins.
Araj is on the floor, staring up at you with wide, horrified eyes. You’re on top of her, legs straddling her waist and a hand at her shoulder keeping her held down. Your dagger hangs mere inches from her eye. And then you realize the thing that stopped you from killing another innocent: a hand around your wrist, pulling the knife away from Araj. Astarion’s hand.
He doesn’t want her to live, gods no. But he remembers what happened to you the last time you took someone’s life through blind emotion. He doesn’t want to see you like that again.
You scowl down at her as you growl out, “He. Said. No.”
She nods fearfully - she’d have agreed to anything you said if it meant saving her own skin. Your fingers loosen around the handle of the dagger and Astarion pries it from your hand. His other supports your waist as you stand up from the drow, backing away toward the others, who all watched with mixed expressions. You don’t turn away from her until you’re almost by the door. Only once it’s shut do your shoulders relax.
“What happened back there, soldier?” Karlach asks.
You sigh and take your weapon back from Astarion. “She… reminded me of somebody.” As you return the knife to its sheath, you shake your head. “Nevermind. Let’s just go.”
-
Astarion clears his throat as he enters his tent. You’re sitting on your bedroll, looking at the different candles you’d dug out of storage. You were running low, and you wanted to try optimizing them to the best of your abilities, until you could find or purchase more. You look up from your work, watching as he takes his seat across from you.
“I, uh, I wanted to thank you.”
You tilt your head at him as you set the candles aside. “What for?”
“For nearly killing that vile drow, for what you said back there.”
You half-chuckle. “It, admittedly, wasn’t for purely selfless reasons.” Your hands begin fiddling with each other in your lap. “She reminded me of the servants my master keeps. They all vye for her attention, desperately wishing she would drink from them instead of…” You clear your throat. “When she kept saying you belonged to me, I just- I lost control.”
He hummed, understanding precisely. When Araj saw your scar and brought it up, not knowing he wasn’t the one that gave it to you, her fate was sealed. She would be a corpse right now if he hadn’t acted quickly enough. “I’m grateful, all the same. I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered. You could have asked me to do the same - to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned.”
“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” you asserted. “You’ve spent too long already having to deal with that. And, she didn’t seem like she’d make a good meal.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I don’t believe so.” His nose wrinkled. “Her blood smelled absolutely foul. No potion would have been worth the stomachache.”
“What’s wrong with her blood?”
“Gods know what. There’s no telling what she’s experimented with in her line of work.”
“Gods willing, we’ll never know.” You reach for the candles again, prepared to pick one out so the very moment this one runs out, you’re not fumbling about trying to bring back the light, but his hand stops you. You look at him again. His face is leaned in close to yours.
“There’s… something else I wanted to discuss.” He can see the bob of your throat as you swallow, but you nod. “I know we both have our own demons to contend with, and we will, in time, but…” He lets out a soft breath. “You… You’re incredible. So many times, you’ve had ample opportunity to turn me away for what I am alone, but you didn’t. You confided in me, despite it all.”
“I trust you, Astarion,” you whisper. He can feel the warmth of your air against his lips.
“I want us to be something,” he confesses. “Something real. I just don’t know what ‘real’ looks like. Not after two hundred years of playing the rake.” He frowns. “Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to.”
You lean back from him slightly, giving him more room. He misses the way your breath fanned across his skin, but thinking about it for too long puts a vice around his undead heart. You don’t pull your hand from his. “Is this okay?”
He hums softly, thinking. “I don’t mind it as much, if it’s you,” he admits. “It feels… different. A good different.”
Your lips curl slightly into a soft smile. “Then we can keep figuring it out. Together.”
He laughs a little breathlessly, almost shocked by your answer; surprised with how easily you accept his burdens. “You… You are full of surprises, aren’t you?” He glides his hand along yours until your fingers are interlaced. Palm to palm, he can feel the callouses that litter your hands, built up from the moment your freedom began. They were still soft, only a few weeks old at best. “Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next. But I know that this…” He looks into your eyes. You look at him so openly, so earnestly. How could you be the product of your past when he’d ended up the way he did? How could you be so kind despite it all? He smiled. “This is nice.”
---
Tag List:
@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @tototini @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash
Removed @sylverqueen_cosplay @yarn_yogi @teardropcup because it won't let me tag you. If any of these are you, please give me a main account to tag or change your settings so I can tag you.
#fanfic#fanfiction#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldur's gate astarion#baldur's gate tav#baldurs gate astarion#baldurs gate tav#bg3 astarion#bg3 tav#gn reader#x gn reader#gender neutral reader#x gender neutral reader#hurt/comfort#light angst#i come with knives
106 notes
·
View notes
Note
Yo, I'm someone who hit a funk and broke my three month streak of not hurting myself, and am feeling down... splatoon has helped take my mind off things, so would you please write some headcannons on the girls comforting a reader who they caught harming themselves? Thanks in advance, I just need the comfort rn.
I'm really sorry that that happened. I understand how you feel, so I'll gladly write some headcanons for you if they'll make you feel better. You're very strong for going for three months, yknow. And i know you're strong enough to try again. You've got this <3
I'm also gonna put a hotline number at the end for anyone, just in case
Now onto the thingy
‼️Quick TW for Self Harm/Suicide‼️
‧₊˚✧[ The Idols Comforting A Self-harming Reader ]✧˚₊‧
(🎨🔫🤬❤️🩹) - splatoon angst comfort
‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅
- - - - - - -
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・Callie
Had just come home from a shopping spree when she found you in your room with a bleeding arm
You used one of the kitchen knives
"(Y/N)?! OHMIGOSH, ARE YOU OKAY?! WHAT CUT YO-"
Then she sees the knife next to you
The expressive glow in her eyes was gone
She rushed to the kitchen, grabbed a bunch of paper towels, and began to clean your cuts
Lots of hugs and kisses with a side of kind reassurements were given that night
"(Y/N).. please don't do this to yourself. It's not worth it. It's going to be okay, whatever you're goin' through, yeah?"
She checks in with you a lot more now
Asking how you're feeling, if you've eaten, stuff like that
If you have past scars she'll kiss them
If you're feeling down (like you want to hurt yourself again) she'll give you a bunch of distractions and things to do so you don't
If you relapse, she gives you a big hug and say that it's alright
"That's okay! I'm sure you can go even longer this time! I believe in you!"
She was honestly worried she'd lose you
But she sees that you're healing now and that you're better, and that's all she could ever ask for
She's glad you're still around
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・Marie
Also had just come home from shopping, but it was with Callie. She called out to you, but didn't find you in the living room or in the bedroom or kitchen, so she checked the bathroom
She found you with a bleeding leg
You used a razor
She didn't have a very "over-the-top" reaction (unlike Callie)
She just grabbed the first-aid kit you kept in the bathroom and cleaned your wounds.
She didn't wanna scare you
"I may not understand, but I know."
She gave you a tight squeeze after she was done. "I know."
She's a lot less sarcastic with you now
Always tries to make sure you're happy or at least satisfied with yourself
If you feel like hurting yourself she'll bring you into a huge cuddle-sesh until she's sure you're feeling better
Careful, those can last hours
If you relapse, she'd bandage you up and try to make you smile or laugh
"Don't worry, kid. There's always next time."
Despite how sarcastic and snarky she is on T.V., she's very caring and loving
And she'd do anything to make sure you're safe
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・Pearl
"(N/N), I brought ya some foo-"
Dropped the plate when they saw you hunched over, crying with a burned arm
You used Pearl's lighter
Rushed over and immediately took the lighter from you. She accidentally burned herself, too, but that was an accident
Yours was on purpose
Pearl isn't all that good at comforting people, so she called Marina in to help
She kissed you, rubbed your back, and whispered sweet words to you while Marina helped your burns
"I'm so sorry.. Whatever happened, it's not your fault."
Pearl would continue to do all those things while you explained why you did that
Needless to say, she felt awful
From here on out, she's always doing things to keep you happy
She might make little songs for you (with the help of Marina's composing) or cook with you (albeit she's not the best cook)
If you relapse, she'll just sit there with you, head on your shoulder, ready to listen if you wanna vent or talk
Or if you just wanna sit there in silence, too
Like I said, she's not the best at comforting people, especially when they've done something like this
But she'll try her best if it's all worth making and keeping you happy
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・Marina
She had finally emerged from her recording studio after at least 3 hours of editing and revising music for the Memverse
That's when she found you, bruised and slightly bleeding
You had been biting yourself and bit down really hard
She was confused at first as to why you would do such a thing
She's your personal therapist at this point
Treating the wounds, asking how you're feeling, what happened while she was gone, if you wanna talk, etc. etc.
"I know this won't help, but you shouldn't feel so bad. I am your biggest fan, and I'm always gonna be there to support you and care for you, okay?"
Even if she didn't seem all that terrified, she was incredibly scared that you would bite down too hard and really hurt yourself
Keeps an eye on you and your mood from now own
Just like Callie, she gives you things to do when you feel like harming yourself, just digitally
Lets you run through the memverse demo as many times as you'd like
If you relapse, she'll kiss your wounds (when they're clean) and say that was a good try, and that you can do better than before
But, she really wasn't lying when she said she was your biggest fan and supporter
She always was, and she always will be
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・Shiver
She had just finished training a bunch of sharks just a ways from your house. She came home, fan in hand, and called out for you
You didn't respond, so she began to look for you
She found you in the bedroom, clawing at your arm
Since your nails weren't that sharp, it didn't draw blood, but it was enough to leave a mark
You swore she turned paper white when she gasped
She gasped so loud people in Inkopolis could've heard her
She quickly recollected herself and rushed over to help you
I have a headcanon that shiver excessively fans herself when she's on edge, so she did a lot of that here
"(Y/N)?? Why would you do such a thing to yourself? ... Well, please, don't do it again. You're too good of a person to deserve this."
From then on, she was a lot more caring toward you
Less sarcasm, less of a snarky personality, more of a mother figure
Makes sure you've eaten, and that you haven't harmed yourself (and that you won't anytime soon)
Also makes you trim your nails so you can't scratch yourself again
If you relapse, she encourages you to try and make your streak longer the next time
She may not show it half (or 3/4) of the time, but she really cares about you. And it would deeply hurt her if she lost you
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・Frye
Randomly woke up from a really good nap, turned over, and saw you hitting yourself on your arms, legs, and head
She probably woke up due to your hitting moving the bed
You bruised your legs and arms and gave yourself a massive headache
Frye immediately tried to constrain you (and you gave in since she's freakishly strong. she's broken a rock before. twice.)
Started bombarding you with questions
"(Y/N)?! What happened?? Why were you beating yourself up?"
You broke down, and she immediately pulled you into a tight hug
"Hey, now! Don't cry! It's alright, I'm right here! I'm awake now, and I'm not gonna let anything or anyone hurt you, ya hear?"
Considering how she has siblings, she's actually pretty good at comforting people. She does, however, get extra advice from Big Man from time to time
Just like Shiver, she makes sure you've eaten and that you don't start hitting yourself again
Also makes it clear that it's perfectly fine to open up to her whenever you need to and whenever she has time to listen
If you do ever relapse, she's never mad. She'll just comfort you and ask you to try again
Frye's got a soft side, especially when it comes to you. And she's not afraid to show it if it means you'll be alive and well
- - - - - - -
‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅
#splatoon#splatoon x reader#splat3#marie squid sisters#callie splatoon x reader#pearl off the hook#frye deep cut#oneshot#callie cuttlefish#headcanon#callie squid sisters#callie splatoon#callie and marie#marie splatoon#marie cuttlefish#marie splatoon x reader#pearl houzuki#pearl splatoon#pearl splatoon x reader#marina splatoon#marina ida#marina off the hook#marina splatoon x reader#shiver hohojiro#shiver splatoon#shiver deep cut#shiver splatoon x reader#frye onaga#frye splatoon#frye splatoon x reader
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
YELLOWJACKETS THEORIES
we know it can’t be lottie in s1, and it doesn’t make sense for it to be mari because mari couldn’t survive on her own out there — she’s pretty useless — and (unknown) was wearing a white nightgown and the heart necklace jackie gave to shauna. if it were mari i doubt shauna would wear it because that would be death after death associated with that necklace. so the only other viable option is that it’s callie.
how would this happen? the wilderness wasn’t satisfied with nat because she wasnt eaten. it wants more blood and it wants them to feed the hunger that’s been so deep inside them since they got rescued. they each (without telling each other) venture out to the woods, and shauna brings callie with her because she wants to see. when they all find each other at the cabin ruins they’re faced with that heavy heart they felt out in the wilderness all those years ago. shauna asks callie to stay in the car (they’re sleeping in the car — it’s a minivan so it works) and they gather around a fire near the other girls’ tents (yes tai and van are sharing). they talk about how they miss nat but then the conversation shifts and van tells them about her cancer. she tells them how she almost completely beat it after nat died— like lottie said, but about a month later; it came back worse than ever before. shauna owns up to jeff and hers relationship getting better and then them completely destroyed by the affair AGAIN. lottie talks about how her visions went away but came back worse and more often. misty shares with them that her life was great with walter but then he left her. with a shared look they all realize; the wilderness wants them to eat. and just as they realize— callie comes out of the car in her nightgown and snow boots, telling her mom that she needs help. she wanted another blanket but couldn’t find any, so lottie tells her that she has extra in her car. all of the girls look at each other.
AND ONE MORE CAR PULLS UP
It’s Akilah.
Akilah was the only other MAIN character that we saw more often than not on the screen. so let’s say she’s alive. all of the girls are shocked, because they heard she died in the hospital. after they become reacquainted the girls discuss this wilderness ordeal and what they have to do. lottie pulls out her cards eventually, and they all pick; alas, no one pulls the queen. but callie, unsuspecting and unknowing, picks up a queen card next to the blanket in lottie’s car. she shrugs and yells “i think you dropped a few cards in here”— and all of their eyes widen as callie holds up the card and walks towards them. they all look at each other again and then shauna yells, “RUN” and callie hesitates, but then she sees van and lottie racing for their knives. she starts sprinting and the animal noises begin. she’s terrified for her life and it’s clear. the girls are picking up on her movements because of the snow boots. callie realizes this and takes them off promptly as she hides behind a tree. she runs and runs and runs and runs and runs, until she cannot. the noises go quiet. she stops in this clearing to catch her breath. it looks like a path almost. then the animal noises return. she’s running again, and she runs, and then— she falls into the pit. so on and so on—
how would this make sense?
in ep1 when they’re showing older misty it cuts to a cutscene from the cannibalism party and it’s misty’s glasses FROM WHEN SHES OLDER— the glasses are different people.
and since there are 6 people in masks i added akilah because we didnt see her die yet.
callie would’ve gotten her necklace from shauna before they left; shauna saying “it will keep you safe” WHEN REALLY ITS A MARK FOR DEATH. (but shauna doesn’t realize)
— ie. jackie, shauna in the finale of s2, and callie.
#yellowjackets#shauna sadecki#shauna shipman#misty quigley#lottie matthews#taissa turner#van palmer#natalie scatorccio#akilah yellowjackets#tv shows
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sequel to But When? And Why? And How?
About Dolores and Mirabel; and the aftermath of the things they heard. Set in the Miracles Plus AU.
Because an anon wanted to know how the family reacted.
Warning, very sensitive topics below.
~~~~~~
A Restless and Unanswered Night
Dolores walks Mirabel back to Casita.
It’s a silent affair. One of Mirabel’s weak arms draped around her shoulders as she guides the girl along the path.
The medication bounces roughly against Dolores’ leg in her pocket. Mirabel hadn’t taken it when the midwife offered it to her. It’s going to leave a bruise.
The first thing that happens when they get back is Mirabel whispering that she feels sick.
Dolores doesn’t want to deal with the faff of the shared bathroom, so allows Mirabel to use the one in her room.
Rubbing her back and holding her hair (and glasses) aside, while Mirabel heaves until there’s nothing left. Dolores doesn’t blame her.
When it finally ends, she just curls up on the bathmat, sobbing with fresh tears. Wailing in terror. Screaming in distress. And Dolores doesn’t blame her.
That’s when Dolores goes to find the family.
Or, well, Mirabel’s immediate family. (Dolores will tell the rest of the adults later).
“I have to talk to you,” Dolores informs, entering the kitchen, with Isabela and Luisa tagging along behind her.
Julieta and Agustín look just as confused as their daughters, but they seem more willing to stop what they are doing and hear her out.
They are sat around the dining table and Dolores taps her glass anxiously, searching for the words.
“Mirabel is pregnant.”
None of them connect the dots.
Luisa spits out her coffee. Julieta blinks. Agustín still looks confused.
Isabela scoffs, and then laughs, “What were the chances of immaculate conception in the family Madrigal?” As soon as the joke leaves her mouth, she realises.
“Someone…” Julieta can’t bring herself to finish the question. Dolores nods.
Luisa’s mug shatters in her hand.
“Who?” Agustín asks.
“We… we don’t know.” Dolores answers. “I heard the heartbeat ages ago, but I didn’t want to say anything at first. I confronted her about it and she had no idea. I took her to a midwife… she’s almost seven months along. She doesn’t know how or when it happened.”
“Drugged.” Isabela piped up. “It’s the only way she wouldn’t have known.”
Nobody said anything.
“Where is she?” Julieta inquires, shakily.
“My room. Bathroom.”
Julieta is already out of her chair, almost knocking the thing onto the floor in her haste to get to her baby.
Another chair scratches back against the tiled floor.
“I’m going out. To fucking kill every fucking bastard with a cock in town,” Luisa seethes.
“Absolutely not. That’s completely insane, Luisa.” Dolores snapped.
Luisa is already gone though.
While Dolores tries to manage Luisa, chasing after her cousin, who wandered off in search of the cooking knives, Agustín breaks down crying at the table.
Isabela gets up and hugs him, not knowing what else to do.
They stay like that for an hour.
~~~~~~
Having since left Dolores’ room, they were now in Mirabel’s own.
As Mirabel had washed and changed, Julieta made herself useful in cleaning Dolores’ bathroom. It wasn’t necessary, it was just something to do.
Mirabel’s skin, neck downwards, was a-blazing red and sensitive from where she’d clearly very aggressively scrubbed herself clean. Julieta decided to forgo the lecture for now, she’d be too stubborn to listen anyways.
Mirabel now lay in bed, much less hysterical, but by no means calm. While Julieta sat beside her.
They can’t do anything. There’s no way of tracking down a culprit. It’s too late now.
All they can do is prepare in the remaining months for the baby.
“When you were born,” Julieta says, brushing her fingers through Mirabel’s curls. “We didn’t think you had survived. Your Tío Félix had to pinch you to get some noise. You were always so quiet. Every time you slept, I would have a heart attack because I thought something bad had happened. You were so little; I always wanted to cuddle you. You didn’t care for my smothering.”
Mirabel didn’t say anything.
“Luisa was completely obsessed with you. She use to refer to you as her baby and would hit us for trying to separate you two.” She chuckled slightly then. “Not much has changed. She was definitely your favourite too. You knew what you meant when you said ‘purple’ - the colour, but it was also Luisa. My clever, little girl.”
A pause.
She set her hand against Mirabel’s stomach.
“This is your baby, Mirabel. Not anyone else’s. And you are going to love them, just as much as I loved you and your sisters.”
Another pause.
“¿Mirabel? ¿Qué estás pensando, mi amor?”
Mirabel looked up then.
“No quiero este parásito. No quiero esta sanguijuela. Quiero recuperar mi cuerpo.” She tightened her grip on her pillow. “Quiero morir.”
~~~~~~
English translation:
“Mirabel? What are you thinking, my love?”
Mirabel looked up then.
“I don't want this parasite. I don't want this leech. I want my body back.” She tightened her grip on her pillow. “I want to die.”
#encanto#encanto miracles plus au#dolores madrigal#mirabel madrigal#isabela madrigal#luisa madrigal#julieta madrigal#agustín madrigal#the cold family#my writing
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Hunger Games- The Protector: Chapter Three, The Interview
(Peeta Mellark x Reader)
[two] [three] [four]
"Throw the metal thing over there." I nudge Peeta. He gives me a dirty look.
"What? No. Haymitch said we're not supposed to show our skills." He argues with me, I roll my eyes.
"Those guys are looking at you like you're a meal, throw it." I ignore what he said about Haymitch. The blond glances over to the guys, defeated he does as I say.
I see the Careers grow impressed and I walk away with a tiny smirk. If anything Peeta can ally up with them, make it far in the Games.
I walk away, going to the spears. I probably shouldn't but I need to see what I'm possibly working with. I picked it up. It was hefty, obviously better than anything I've ever had hunting with Gale and Katniss.
I swing it around, stabbing the air. It wasn't something I wanted to work with. I placed it back moving along to the other weapons. The knives were nice, easy to throw. I'll have to make sure I get a few in the Game.
I bite the inside of my cheek, walking around, observing the others and how they fight.
Districts 1 and 2 being slight show offs. Not surprising though.
I spot Peeta in the camouflage station, raising a brow as I walk over to him. "Hi." I speak up. "Hey." He mutters, doing some final touches.
"How did you do that?" I ask him, admiring the work. "I uhh, I used to decorate cakes down at the bakery. I'll show you." He goes next to the tree, showing how similar it is. "See?"
"Wow, that's amazing." I compliment him. "Yeah, thanks. Hey, I think you have a shadow." He directs my focus over to the little girl from 11, who I found out is named Rue. She hides behind a pillar.
I give her a small wave. I don't know how anyone could kill her. The thought brings me back to the whole point of why we're here. My chest tightens.
"Tomorrow they'll bring you in one by one and evaluate you. This is important because higher ratings will mean sponsors. This is the time to show them everything. There'll be a bow, make sure you use it-"
"Haymitch, I told you I'm not the best with a bow." I stop him, he sighs and looks at me. "Peeta said otherwise yesterday, just try, sweetheart." He then continues on with what he was talking about as I slump down.
"Peeta, you make sure to show your strength. They'll start with District 1 so the two of you will go last. I don't know how else to put this. Make sure they remember you." He instructs us. The two of us look at each other then back to our mentor. Nodding to let him know we understand.
We've now been waiting in the Training Center for our evaluation. It's been a while and while each person goes in I wonder what they showed them.
How will I compete against any of them? Would I even want a high score? If I get a high score that means that the rest of the districts are going to target me as being lethal.
Wanting to get me first. But if I get too low that shows me as weak, they might want to get my kill over with but that also means I can act weak and they won't know my true strengths. Less sponsors as well. I need the sponsors though. I'll just listen to Haymitch...
"[Name] Everdeen." The caller announces my name and my breathing hitches in my throat.
Immediately I feel like I'm going to throw up as I stand up. "Hey, [Name]. You got this. Shoot straight." He encourages me, I nod my head as I enter the room where the Gamemakers have been. I observe them, they're obviously bored.
I grab a bow and arrow.
"[Name] Everdeen. District 12." I announce myself, getting into position. I pull the arrow back then release but I miss the center.
I hear the Gamemakers laugh, turning away from me. I grab another arrow hitting the center then another that hits the other one, splitting it right in the middle.
When I faced the men above me nobody was paying attention. I breathe heavily, the adrenaline in my body coming out. I notice the roast pig on their table. An apple in its mouth.
I think about Katniss. How she taught me to aim for the squirrel's eyes. How she told me I was getting better and better.
How I knew if she was in my spot she would because sometimes she makes reckless decisions. But it's okay because I was there to protect her. If I do this though, who would be there to protect me?
"Hey, hey, who ordered this pig?" Seneca Crane questions the other men as they begin to crowd it and I knew this is the one chance I had to do something reckless.
Without giving much thought I quickly pulled the arrow back and shot the apple. The Gamemakers stare at me in shock.
I take a bow, "thank you for your consideration." I place the bow and arrows back. Leaving the room.
Oh god, why did I actually do it? How stupid am I? My family could get hurt. Prim, Katniss, Zayden. Oh god, oh god.
I ran to a trash can as the adrenaline left my body and so did the food I ate this morning.
"Hey, what happened?" A voice asks me after I finish throwing up. I lean my arms against the sides.
"Haymitch?" I mutter out. "It's me. Why are you throwing up." He helps me stand up correctly. "I did something so stupid." I hide my face in my hands. We begin to walk away so no one can hear what I did.
I explain how I missed the first shot and when I did the second and third they weren't paying attention, I got mad so I shot the apple. He was quiet the whole time I spoke. But when I was done he began to laugh. I furrowed my brows. "What's funny about that? They could hurt my family." I exclaim.
"[Name], they would've told you that. They let you walk out. That's nice shooting." He nudges me and I roll my eyes. "I can't believe I missed the first one." I frowned.
"Are you crazy?" Effie yells at me, pacing back and forth. "I just got mad." I mumble. "Mad? You realize that your actions reflect badly on all of us. Not just you." She tells me but Cinna steps in. "They just want a good show. It's fine." He assures her.
"How about it's just bad manners, Cinna! How about that?" Effie huffs. Haymitch walks downstairs to meet where we all are.
"Well, finally! I hope you noticed we have a serious situation." She seems glad the blond is there, not knowing we already talked about this and it seems he wants to feed in her frustration, acting as if he wasn't there to console me earlier.
"Nice shooting, sweetheart. What did they do when you shot the apple?" He smirks, joining me on the couch. "They looked pretty startled." I tell them.
"Oh? Now, what did you say, "thanks for...?" He laughs. "Your consideration." I joined him.
"Genius! Genius." He claps his hands and then points at me.
"I don't think we're gonna find this funny if the Gamemakers decide to take it out..." Effie's sentence quiets down.
"On who? On her? On him? I think they already have. Loosen your corset, have a drink. I would have given anything to see it." Haymitch tells her in all seriousness.
The television turns on, cutting off our conversation. Caesar Flickerman pops up on the screen.
"As you know the Tributes were rated on a scale of 1 to 12 after three days of careful evaluation. The Gamemakers would like to acknowledge... From district 1, Marvel with a score of 9. Cato with a score of 10, Clove with a score of 10." And so on and so on. The only one I really paid attention to is Rue, she got a pretty high score for her age, it being 7. Then it gets to 12.
"From District 12, Peeta Mellark with a score of 8." Caesar's voice says.
"Peeta!" Effie says excitedly.
"Bravo." Haymitch nods his head to the blond.
"That's great Peeta." I tell him.
"And finally," I sit up straighter. "From district 12, [Name] Everdeen, with a score of... 11." My jaw drops.
"[Name]!" Portia, Peeta's stylist exclaims.
"Outstanding." Cinna says. Effie lets out a whoops.
"Congratulations." Peeta smiles and I thank him.
"I thought they hated me." I let out a breath I didn't think I was holding.
"They must have liked your guts."
"To [Name], the protector from district 12!" Cinna pulls me into his arms.
That's the nickname I got from the Capitol and Caesar Flickman. Being a protector of my cousins. Also showing clips of me in the Training Center when I did small things for Peeta. A little excessive but if it helps me get sponsors.
"She's staring at all my jewels. She cannot take her eyes off them. Frankly it was rude." Portia was complaining about some lady, it was getting annoying listening to these people's problems while in my district we're struggling to even live. These people complain about how a color is out of place somewhere.
"Oh, Haymitch. You should join us. We're having some of your favorite dinner." Effie waves over the drunk man, I tilt my head to the side. Wondering why Effie knows that.
"Oh, lovely." Haymitch hums, joining us at the table. "Where's Peeta?" I ask.
"He's in his room. Now listen. Tomorrow's the last day. And they let us work our own tributes right before the Games so you and I will be going down at 9." He explains to me.
"What about Peeta?" I question, not understanding why we're talking without him.
"He says he wants to be trained on his own from now on." He tells me, I felt my heart sink a little bit. Separate? It was just getting easier knowing I had him by my side.
At least making it a little farther in the games. Maybe even survive off of each other. Even though at the end it would be inevitable to fight we could've let nature take its course. I don't know.
That's dumb to even think. He's probably right about making it separate. Not having us depend on each other and get too emotionally attached to die at the end.
"I don't understand... I mean I do. Only one winner in the end." I try to force out a smile.
"We should have chocolate covered strawberries." Effie switches the subject once the atmosphere gets too serious. I was a little grateful.
"Oh my, yes." Portia claps. "Please." Cinna digs in as well. I sit there silently, thinking about Peeta. I shouldn't have been so nice these past few days.
"Thank you! Thank you! Welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games! Now in 5 minutes, they're all going to be out here. All of the Tributes that you've heard about. Are you excited? Let me hear it!" Caesar Flickerman announces and I look up to Cinna with wide eyes.
"Amazing." He says in a hushed voice, admiring his work. "I don't feel amazing." I hold myself.
"Don't you know how beautiful you look?" He asks with a smile.
"I mean I am sure I am because of you. But I just have this feeling that no one is going to like me, what if I mess up? Say the wrong thing?" I begin to panic, holding my chest now.
"You made me like you. You're a natural with people." He attempts to assure me but I shake my head.
"Out there I have to... try..." I slump my shoulders. I'm just glad I'm the last district because I'm not ready to go out there.
"[Name], you don't have to try as hard as you think. I'll be there the whole time. Pretend that you're talking to me, okay?" He places a hand on my shoulder. I think about it before nodding my head. "Okay."
I glanced in the mirror in front of me, I wore gold makeup, red blush that would make you think I was sunburnt.
My dress was black with gold shimmers around the neckline and then at the bottom. If I twirled it the bottom would ignite in flames. It was beautiful.
"From District 12, you know her as the Protector, and girl on fire! Well, we know her as the lovely [Name] Everdeen!" Caesar shouts and I walk across the stage, it was larger than I thought it was going to be.
I waved to the crowd, forcing a large grin on my face. Thinking about happy moments back home to make it more genuine.
"Welcome! Welcome. Well, that was quite an entrance you made the other day." He says and I nod my head.
"I know it was very electrifying. Feeling everyone's excitement about our outfits." I try not to seem like I was out of breath due to my anxiety. "And being on fire I mean, I was worried somehow due the adrenaline I wasn't feeling the burn." I chuckle as he seems to force out this laugh kind of surprising me.
"When you came out of that chariot, I have to say my heart stopped. Did any of you experience this as well? My heart stopped." He asks the crowd who agree with him. "So did mine."
"Now, tell me about the flames. Were they real?" He switches to the next question. I look over to Cinna who nods his head.
"Yes, I'm wearing them today. Would you like to see?" I ask. "Wait, wait, wait. Is it safe?" He nervously laughs. "Of course."
"What do you think, folks?" The crowd screams in response.
"Ha ha ha, I think that's a yes!" The both of us stand up, his off to the side. I go away from the chairs and begin to twirl around, the flames coming out. I hear the crowd cheer so I start to slow down but in heels it's a little difficult. Caesar helps me balance.
"Woah, steady! Lovely, thank you. That was really something. Thank you for that." He says as we sit back down.
"I have one more question for you. It's about your cousins. You seem to have some protector energy. We were all very moved. I think, when you volunteered for her at the Reaping. Did they come say goodbye to you?" He asks, my chest tightens thinking about them. I take a breath before speaking.
"Yes, they did."
"They did, and what did you say to them in the end?" He quizzes, I look to Cinna again. I didn't want to tell him something so personal and vulnerable but with Cinna. I can so I need to focus on him.
"I told them that I would try to win. That I will give my all to come back home to them." I say .
"Of course you did. And try you will. Ladies and gentlemen, from District 12, [Name] Everdeen, The Protector!" I wave them goodbye, hurriedly but in the same slowly leaving the stage.
"You did it, darling. That was incredible." Effie pulls me towards her. "Thank you." I give a polite smile.
"Nice job, sweetheart." Haymitch tells me. "Thank you." I repeat. "Nice dress, too." He then whispers to Effie. "Not yours."
"Please welcome, Peeta Mellark! Peeta, welcome. How are you finding the Capitol? Don't say "with a map." Caesar laughs.
"It's different. Very different from back home." Peeta answers. "Different? In what way? Give us an example." The host questions, looking very interested. "Uh okay, well, the showers here are weird."
"The showers?" He's surprised by the boy's answer. "Yes."
"Do we have different showers?" Caesar asks, looking at the crowd who are shocked as well. "I have a question for you, Caesar. Do I smell like roses to you? Take a whiff." Peeta scoots closer to Caesar who's hesitant. "Um, alright?"
"Hmm... yes. Do I smell like it?" I fold my arms, feeling a little cold as I listen to this. Watching on one of the screens.
"You definitely smell better than I do." The crowd's laughs make me a little self conscious about my interview now. Feeling like I bombed it. "Well, I've lived here longer." Caesar points out. "That makes sense."
"Very funny. So, Peeta tell me. Is there a special girl back home?" He grows serious asking this question as if it was very important to him.
"No. No, not really." Peeta shakes his head. "No? I don't believe it for a second. Look at that face. Handsome man like you. Peeta... tell me." Caesar denies what he's been told, so shocked about it. I step a bit closer to the screen.
"Well, there is this one girl that I've had a crush on forever now." He says, the crowd all "awes"
"But I don't think she actually recognized me until the Reaping."
"Well, I'll tell you what, Peeta. You go out there and you win this thing, and when you get home, she'll have to go out with you." Caesar advises him.
"Thanks, but, I don't think winnings gonna help me at all." The three stylists behind me feel for him as I just stare at the screen. "Why not?"
"Because she came here with me." Peeta says and I feel like my world just got dizzy. How... How could he say that? Use that in something like this? I look back to Haymitch who has his hands up defensively.
"Well, that's bad luck." Caesar frowns. "Yeah it is." Peeta agrees. "And I wish you all the best of luck." Caesar tells him.
Peeta thanks him, he leaves the stage and I go up to him.
"What the hell, Peeta? Why lie and put me into it!?" I pin him against the wall.
"You say you want to train alone, I understand that but then you drag me into some love story that's not even real!? What if I had feelings for you as well? Huh? You put it out there during our last days! And not even to my face!" I angrily shout in his face.
"Stop it! Stop it!" Haymitch pulls me away from him. "No! I want to know!" I scream.
"He did you a favor." Haymitch tells me and I huff. "He did something stupid. I don't care if it helps. I should've known beforehand if that's the play we're using." I glare at my mentor who sighs.
"It helps that you didn't know. You could've slipped up. You seem to be very anxious even under all that pride. He made you look desirable, sweetheart." He explained to me but I just scoffed.
"He's right, [Name]." Cinna jumps into the conversation.
"Of course I'm right. Now I can sell the star crossed lovers from District 12." Haymitch smirks. "We are not star crossed lovers." I argue.
"It's a television show! And being in love with that boy might just get you sponsors, which could save your damn life. Ok. Why don't you get out of here. Maybe I can deliver you both in one piece tomorrow." Haymitch points out of here. Peeta already left with his stylist. I shake my head in disbelief.
"Manners." I hear Effie whisper as I walk away.
Masterlist
P.M. ML
Taglist: if you want to be added lmk!
#the hunger games#the hunger games x y/n#the hunger games x you#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games imagine#the hunger games katniss#the hunger games peeta#thg peeta#peeta mellark x you#peeta mellark#peeta mellark x reader#peeta x reader#katniss and peeta#peeta supremacy#hijacked peeta#i love peeta#thg katniss#katniss everdeen#thg fanfiction#thg haymitch#thg#thg series#thgedit#coriolanus snow#snow#haymitch x effie#effie trinket#haymitch abernathy#primrose everdeen#caesar flickerman
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Park at Night (Pt. 2)
Part 1
Ajax sat in jail for three months. Three months turned out to be more than enough time for Rembrandt to let go of the anger that had coursed through her when she watched the cops drag Ajax away. She just wanted Ajax back.
Rembrandt visited her a few times. It took a while to work up the courage for that first visit. Then she felt like an asshole it took her so long when Ajax kept stumbling over her words uncharacteristically and accidentally admitted she was worried Rembrandt was dead.
"The other women keep saying a Warrior is dead. I thought- But it's Cleon, huh? Is Swan doing okay?" Ajax asked, soft in the way she only ever was - in hushed tones with Rembrandt as the only listening ear.
Swan was not doing well, actually. But for a very different reason.
"Cleon survived. The cops got Fox," Rembrandt said. Flat. Monotone.
Ajax's face shuttered. "No."
"Threw her off the platform at Union Square." Rembrandt barely felt the words leave her mouth. Ajax's eyes flashed dangerously.
They moved on from the topic.
By the time Ajax got home, Swan was almost back to normal. Talking a bit more, eating, sleeping - all thanks to Mercy who seemed to be some magical Swan whisperer, able to get through to Swan even when Cleon couldn't. Cowgirl's bite mark was no longer visible, no matter what she claimed. The cuts and bruises they all earned that night scarred and faded. It was almost like that night never happened.
No one touched the door at the end of the hall in Cleon and Swan's apartment (Cleon, Swan, and Mercy's now, Rembrandt supposed, but it felt weird to still say three names). Rembrandt liked to pretend it didn't exist. Like there had never been a third bedroom.
Ajax's first night home was the best sleep Rembrandt got in months, curling tightly into her girlfriend and pretending to not notice the lost weight and muscle mass or the new pallor to her skin. It didn't matter. She would gain back the weight, the muscle, and the long days on the boardwalk would bring her color back to its full glory. Then it would be like it never happened.
They could forget that night ever happened.
They could.
Then a week after Ajax got home shit hit the fan. Because Cowgirl still wasn't over getting bitten.
"I don't care what Masai says," she said over a bite of lo mein, straight out the carton, the Warriors draped throughout Cleon and Swan's living room as they gave the latest update. Rembrandt was barely paying attention, sitting at the kitchen counter doodling in her sketchbook. "I don't trust the Bizzies and I'm not going to join them on any bonding shit the Riffs want to try. No."
"Why don't we trust the Bizzies?" Ajax asked.
"Because one of them bit me!" Cowgirl yelled through a now full mouth.
"Oh, for the love of," Swan muttered under her breath, rubbing at her eyes exhaustedly.
"Girl, they tried to kill us, can we get over the biting thing?" Cochise asked.
"No!" was Cowgirl's adamant response.
"What do you mean the Bizzies tried to kill you." Ajax's voice was flat. Dark. Rembrandt looked up from her sketchbook and saw Ajax staring straight at her from across the room.
Cleon and Swan clocked the dark look immediately.
"Let's get back on-" Cleon tried.
But Cochise was already talking, "After the park, we got separated. Swan and Mercy went one way, Cowgirl, Fo- The rest of us went another. We beat them to Union Square, the Bizzies picked us up, we went back to their loft with them - yes, Swan, I know it was stupid, shut up - and then they tried to attack us. With knives, so it could have been worse. Rembrandt got us out, though, through the fire escape."
"Huh." Was all Ajax had to say.
It said a lot. Cochise clocked in.
"What, Rembrandt didn't mention having to save our asses?" Cowgirl asked even as Cochise tried to kick her from across the coffee table. "What the- Cochise, fucking stop that!"
"Nope." Ajax popped the p as she continued to stare at Rembrandt. "That part got left out."
Fuck.
"It isn't that big of a deal," Rembrandt said as she followed Ajax down the street. It had been almost two hours since the tense realization. Cleon had moved them through the rest of the meeting, they finished dinner, even hung out for a little while, even as everyone could feel the tension between Ajax and Rembrandt. When it was time to leave, Ajax didn't follow Cowgirl and Cochise across the street to the apartment they all shared. No, she took a sharp left instead and Rembrandt followed after her.
"Sure," Ajax said. Tense and angry in a way that made Rembrandt antsy.
"Seriously," Rembrandt tried again as they reached the quiet boardwalk. "Cowgirl's dramatic."
"Yep." Ajax kept walking.
Rembrandt stopped.
"This is ridiculous!" She shouted at Ajax's back. "It was months ago!"
"Not for me!" Ajax wheeled around to glare at Rembrandt. "I just found out! Because my own girlfriend didn't think to tell me!"
"It wasn't important!"
"You almost getting killed isn't important?!"
"I'm fine!"
"You could have died!" Ajax screamed. "Because of a stupid fucking decision!" Then, quieter, almost to herself, "What kind of braindead decision even was that?"
And that hurt. That hurt a lot. Despite herself, Rembrandt felt her eyes stinging.
Because a lot of people thought she was dumb. Ditzy.
"That's high math for Rembrandt."
"That's a lot for Rembrandt to remember."
No one ever meant anything by it, they didn't mean to hurt her feelings, so she always shrugged it off, but Ajax-
Ajax never said shit like that. She got mad at people who said those things, even got mad at Rembrandt herself for it once or twice.
So, yeah. It hurt.
"I'm not stupid," Rembrandt said, angry at herself for the choked way she spoke, fists curled at her sides. "I was the only one who tried to get them to stay at the station! I did my best and I did a fucking good job!"
Rembrandt almost missed the way Ajax's eyes widened, but she caught the quickest glimpse as she turned around, ready to race off in the other direction. Let Ajax cool down or something, she couldn't deal with this tonight.
Except a hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her.
"That's not what I meant." The words tripped out of Ajax's mouth. "You aren't stupid. You know I don't think that and I know it wasn't your idea. Pretty boys ain't exactly your thing."
Confused, Rembrandt turned back around, looking up slightly at Ajax. Who just seemed miserable.
"I'm the stupid one," Ajax explained. "I'm angry at myself. I should have been there. If I hadn't gotten in that fight, I would have been. And Swan and Mercy and we could have just jumped on the train to Coney and," she laughed, a low humorless sound, "Fuck. Maybe we would have beat the cops to Union Square. Maybe Fox would still be around." She let go of Rembrandt's wrist, hands clasping on the top of her head as she walked a few steps away, taking deep breaths. She shook her head. "You could have died and it would have been my fault and I'm sorry."
"None of that is your fault," Rembrandt said.
Ajax didn't say anything, just stared out into the darkness of the ocean.
"Ajax," Rembrandt moved closer, getting back back into her space. "I'm not going to pretend I loved that you picked that fight, but- You couldn't have known what was going to happen after."
"You needed me," Ajax said. "You needed me and I wasn't there."
Rembrandt swallowed thickly because there wasn't much to say to that. She could still remember being on the platform, outnumbered, wishing she at least had Ajax to argue with her for reason, then being trapped in that loft, terrified to be stuck in such a close-quarters fight without her.
"It won't happen again," Ajax said. "I promise. Never again."
And Rembrandt didn't exactly believe her. Ajax was fire and fight and never backing down and Rembrandt loved that all about her. She understood what Ajax meant, though. What she was trying to say.
So Rembrandt wrapped a hand around the back of Ajax's neck and pulled her down, kissing her gently. She pulled away a moment later.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
#the warriors#warriors fanfic#the warriors fanfic#ajax#ajax the warriors#rembrandt the warriors#rembrandt#my writing
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
Maybe a criminal minds oneshot where JJs daughter (basically Henry but a girl instead). Is feeling a lot of anxiety and stress about her moms job not able to sleep, focus at school, maybe she ends up really sick in the hospital? (Kind of like the current storyline they’re doing with Henry?)
Pairings; JJ x Daughter!Reader
content warnings; angst, talks of serials killers, knifes, anxiety, and fears
a/n; my first request I hope I did it well enough! Please lmk what you think!
wc; 1.2k
[masterlist]
Growing up your parents worked beyond hard to keep the world as light and fun for you as possible. It was manageable, they both vowed to never bring their work home. Until someone took your dad and almost killed you. Being so young you really had no clue, you just remember your mom getting into a fight with the woman.
It still showed you the truth, of not just the world but your parents jobs. That they were in danger of losing their lives every-time they stepped out in the field.
You were 17 now with the same fears and anxieties creeping back up. Your mom and dad were all you had and losing them would destroy you. Handling all this by taking extra hours volunteering after school and staying at the dance studio.
It was helpful, getting your mind off things until you heard about the case your mom was working on. Some guy was killing people for really no reason at all but he also hated your moms teams. Every serial killer usually had a vengeance for the BAU.
This one scared you the most, your mom was afraid of “not being able to protect you.” She doesn’t know you heard it but until he was caught your anxiety had gotten worse.
School was becoming increasingly stressful being around everyone. Your anxiety increased even more when you thought about your dad. His job was no better than your moms. He was just closer to home and it still scared you. You were pulled out of your thoughts when your mom called you downstairs.
“Yeah mom?” You asked walking down the stairs with her standing next to her go bag, you knew what it meant, that she either had a case or was heading to the office and would eventually be called on a case.
“I got called into a case” of course “I’m not sure how bad it is but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She said with the same sympathy that she always had. As if she knew how much her leaving effected you.
“It’s fine mom, I’ll see you after” you walked down giving her a hug almost tearing up. The rest of the day was spent lazily around the house. You did some homework, watched tv, even started a new tv show.
None of it could distract your mind from Franky Brown, the rapist, serial killer that was very angry at the BAU. They are getting closer to cracking the case and he knows. Thanks to one of the late nights when she came home and sat on the phone with Auntie Emily you knew more about the case.
JJ was constantly a target not just cause of the BAU but because she was also a woman. Growing up you remember hearing how she was kidnapped and tortured. You visited her in the hospital not knowing the reason just that she was hurt. Life would be pointless without your mom. She was your best friend and you had to protect her.
“Time for bed baby, your mom will be here later” Will said he planting a kiss on your forehead and heading to the kitchen.
“Goodnight dad” you gathered your homework and headed to your room shutting the door behind you. You got ready for bed, checked all your windows, including the one in your bathroom before heading to your bedroom. After that you quickly grabbed your backpack, grabbing the knife that Amya’s brother gave you last week. He has an entire collection of knives all different sizes and colors, so you may have sweet talked your way into getting one for free.
It wasn’t entirely too big but it was big enough. It was sliver and black and you’ve slept with it every night since you’ve got it. You know it’s ridiculous to think but what if Franky does show up here? You allowed your mind to wonder as you slowly drifted to bed.
You were abruptly awaken by the pictures next to your window fallen. Your heart was pounding and you were so afraid you could barley move. You quickly slid your hand to the knife as the person touched your shoulder.
“GET THE FUCK OFF ME” you swung the knife quickly standing up on top of your bed. Pointing the knife toward the figure in the room, attempting to catch your breath.
“Y/N it’s me!” JJ yelled toward you quickly flicking the light on. You were hyperventilating in a corner as you brung your knees to your chest, knife still pointed at your mom.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorr—y” cut off by your sobs,
“I’m going to sit next to you” your mom said as you nodded your head prompting her to sit down. JJ slowly removed the knife but you gripped it tighter avoiding eye contact. Your dad had walked into the room when he heard the commotion. Both your parents had known you were worried more. The tighter hugs and begging them to come home didn’t go unnoticed and this put the cherry on top.
“Your safe baby, I promise, I’m going to take the knife now.” Will spoke up moving closer to you to take the knife away.
You sat in silence with your parents, somewhere in between your dad had taken the knife from you. The concern and worry on their faces didn’t go unnoticed which made you cry harder.
“Sweetie, why did you have a knife under your pillow?” Your mom asked moving a hair behind your ear.
“We’re not upset darling, we don’t don’t want you to hurt yourself in your sleep” Your dad said as he came to sit in front of you.
“Franky Brown” you looked at your mom and bursted into tears, “What if he hurts you or what if he comes here and hurts me—“ you choked on your own sobs.
“Come here” your mom pulled you into a long awaited hug. You squeezed just how you did when you were a little girl, wanting to melt into her. Your mom wasn’t doing so hot either. Her job was important to her but never more important than you.
“I’m sorry I brought this home to you and I’m more sorry we didn’t know.”
“I heard you on the phone with Aunt Emily and I just thought he’d come here next, they have before.” You said honestly, remembering the woman who came here with your dad. The horrible fight you heard your mom in, at the time you were still oblivious to what happened but it happened.
“That’s never going to happen again” will spoke,
“Not if we can help it, I’m sorry I can’t help you feel safe” your mom began to tear up only breaking you more. You hated seeing her sad, you had seen it enough after cases.
That night none of you could get much sleep. Your mom stayed in your room with you as you both were cuddled up together.
“I love you, y/n and I want you to feel safe and never keep this in. I’m here for you. Always.” Kissing your forehead and settling back in. You looked up at her and smiled, “ I know mom.” And you did. At least know you knew now.
#jj x daughter!reader#jennifer jareau x daughter!reader#JJ daughter#jenifer jareau daughter#x daughter!reader#jennifer jareau angst#jennifer jareau x teen!reader#jj x teen!reader#criminal minds reader#criminal minds#jareau reader#jareau!daughter#AskBenTheBob#Criminal minds requests#Jennifer jareau request
235 notes
·
View notes