#Bed feels good but I am unfortunately nocturnal
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more of you should be awake at 1 AM
#Bed feels good but I am unfortunately nocturnal#My ride needed to go home so now I’m home but I would have stayed and danced otherwise#Point is now im your problem#Don’t worry I drank so much water tho. But also I don’t think I’ll be good tomorrow morning anywsys#So send me good wishes
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Alright! Time to share all of what I have of the 4th chapter. It’s not much, but hey, it’s something. Here is the Ao3 link to the other 3 chapters. And unfortunately, the story is on indefinite hiatus because I just. Couldn’t do it ha, got overwhelmed and majorly burnt out. Anyhow, hope you enjoy what I do have. 872 words.
Edit: Opps! Forgot to tag you haha @bianca-hooks123
When Danny woke up, he was surprised at how refreshed he felt. He really hasn’t a good night’s sleep in a while, huh. His body didn’t ache, his left arm finally felt normal, and the bruises he had were gone. If not for still being trapped in his ghost form, he would’ve been having the time of his life!
As he sat up, Danny noticed that his tray of food was unfortunately gone. But, he now had a new tray of food, breakfast edition! It still had the same mix of human and Tamaranean on it, which was nice. His water bottle was refilled, accompanied by a cup of strawberry milk right next to it.
Danny quickly set out to eat all of the food, like eating the dry cereal and then drinking the entirety of the milk right after, as God intended. He didn’t eat as fast as he did last night-er, before he fell asleep. He honestly had no idea what time it was, and couldn’t see a clock nearby. A clock.
Clockwork.
Danny had to stop eating for a moment, trying to calm down the rage that was beginning to simmer. It’ll all be fine, everything back home would be fine, he just needs to pass whatever this test is and punch Clockwork in the face, then he’d be good to go. But what about this universe? Would he be able to go back here? Would he need to? Would he want to?
Danny shook his head, “No time to worry about that,” he muttered to himself, “Just eat your food, and read this note you just noticed was here.”
Danny picked up the note that he must’ve missed because he was too focused on the food. It was not written in English, or had any letters he was familiar with, and he was pretty sure spoken English here was the same as it was in his universe. It was most likely in one of the written languages of Tamaraneans, since everyone-expect Batman-thought he was a Tamaranean.
Danny flipped the note around, hoping for an English translation. The back of the note had more writing, but it was still in Tamaranean. Well that sucked. Now he has to find someone to read the note, and considering the note’s in Tamaranean, it was probably from either Starfire or Nightwing, maybe saying that they were off doing stuff. Even if Danny couldn’t read it, he did have a half-decent intuition!
With a sigh, Danny put the note back down and decided to finish his breakfast. It was so good, definitely better than anything his parents cooked for him. Who would definitely be okay if Nocturn was to be believed. Wait, was Nocturn telling the truth? Danny shook his head again, he had to believe Nocturn, for the sake of his own sanity.
Once Danny finished his food, he got out of the bed, and looked around the infirmary. He noticed three things; one, there was a clock in here and showed that it was 3 o’clock-whether it was AM or PM he didn’t know, two, someone else was in infirmary, and three, there was a box right in front of his bed.
First things first, the person in the bed was someone he hasn’t seen yet, with white, giant wings on their back. They looked they were in pain and was hooked up to something. They were already awake and was looking over at Danny.
“Ah, hello there kid,” they said with a small wave, “I’m Hawkgirl, glad you’re feeling better. Heard you weren’t in such a good state when you came in here.”
“Well, this is the infirmary,” Danny joked, “But I think I just used up too much energy.”
“Didn’t you also fall hundreds of feet from the sky?”
“Wow news spreads fast here huh? I healed pretty quickly from that though.”
“If you count being asleep for two days fast, then yes, you have.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been asleep for how many days?” Danny couldn’t believe it, two days? That means he’s already been gone for…two minutes back home so he probably didn’t need to worry about that.
“You’ve been asleep for two days,” Hawkgirl’s voice held a pinch of sadness as she spoke, “I wish I could convert Earth days to Tamaranean days, but I don’t know the conversion rate. Starfire might, but she’s on-world right now.”
“It’s okay. Also do you um, know how to read this?” Danny showed her his note, “I can’t read.”
Hawkgirl inhaled sharply, with Danny already knowing what she was going to say and he groaned.
“Yeah yeah you don’t know either, it’s fine,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose, “Uh, newtopicnewtopic…how are you doing? Got injured in a fight?”
“Unfortunately, yes, I have,” Hawkgirl sighed, “This strange, ghost-like creature managed to mess up some of my internal-“
“Wait a minute, er-sorry for interrupting you but did you say ghost? Like the see-through dead guys?”
“I’m unsure, Batman is looking into it. Oh, and he left that box of clothes for you not too long ago.”
“Ah, that’s what the box was for. Well, I’m going to wander around this spaceship-thing until I find a place to change.”
#danny phantom#dp x dc#dpxdc#ask game#revenant rambles#i still feel bad for not continuing this. But then I remember I am one person with my own life to live and feel a bit better#Danny was going to be wearing an oversized Batman hoodie btw. And in this chapter he was going to hang with Flash and Plasticman#I didn’t remember the part about the ghosts tho. Forgot where I was going with that haha
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Some TUA Fic Recs!
These are some of my absolute favourite “Umbrella Academy” fanfics! All of these fics are finished, except for one. Please note that most of the tags I am including are not all of the tags on the fic, they are mostly the general ones and warning ones. Also, all of the word counts have been rounded. (all fics are on ao3)
“Against the Waves” by noodlerdoodler | Rated T | 3,200 Words | Main Relationship: Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Fluff, Nightmares | Synopsis:
“Charming. Isn’t my company entertaining enough for you?” Dramatically, Klaus threw up a hand against his forehead and collapsed onto his bed as if he were wounded.
“Don’t be an ass,” His brother rolled his eyes but there was a fond expression on his face, “You know that some of us aren’t actually nocturnal?”
Klaus stuck his tongue out, “What are you doing up then?”
Instantly, his brother’s defences snapped back up and he scowled, “I t-t-t-tol-tol-told y-y-you th-“
Whatever his excuses were, Klaus couldn’t be bothered to hear them. As lowly as the others thought of him, he was actually pretty intuitive and it was obvious the real reason Diego was out of bed was because something was bothering him. He wasn’t one to just wander around after hours for no reason- that was more Klaus’s gig. Whatever it was had really gotten under his skin. Unfortunately, his brother was too emotionally constipated to say what was on his mind.
| Comments: Very sweet. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/26519572
“Business Man'' by Cate_Olivyn | Rated T | 6,800 Words | Main Relationship: Five Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Major Character Death, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Intoxication, Ghosts, Temporary Character Death | Synopsis:
“Terminate David and Klaus Katz.”
Five ignored the pang of guilt that accompanied the name, because it was only a stranger with his brother’s name. He ignored the ugly feeling in his chest when he saw his mark, and he looked so much like the man he left to rot in the apocalypse.
But he can’t ignore the pain in his brother’s eyes when he talks about a love lost, and a life in another time.
| Comments: Pain. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/40455777
“Firestarter” by Melivian | Rated T | 8,900 Words | Main Relationship: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Minor Violence, Drug Addiction, Past Character Death, Deteriorating Relationships | Synopsis:
"It's funny," Klaus said. "You start out with something so great. And you think it'll stay great forever, so you'll do anything to hang onto it, you know? But then one day you realize it's turned into something else when you weren't looking. And you don't know whose fault it is, or how to make it right again. All you know is that you're holding the same pieces, but suddenly they don't fit together anymore."
Ben said nothing.
"What happened to us, Ben?"
~~~
Ben, Klaus, and two very different Halloweens eight years apart.
| Comments: Heartbreaking, but good. A character study of Klaus and Ben's relationship. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/34527199
“I can die when I’m done” by Kaufmann | Rated T | 3,300 Words | Main Relationship: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Hurt No Comfort, Angst, Missing Scene, Panic Attacks, Flashbacks | Synopsis:
Klaus breathed quickly through his nose, panting and panicking. At his side, Ben was muttering assurances of comfort, telling him to calm down. But Klaus couldn't calm down, because the closet was too small and dark and reminded him of the mausoleum and he would be locked in there, alone with ghosts and...
Klaus writhed violently, shouting as loud as he could with the tape in his mouth, looking at Blue and Pink in panic and fear. [...] Klaus shouted once again, choking on his breath and the tears that threatened to suffocate him, a chorus of no, no, no, no in his mind.
Or
In the show, after Klaus reveals the little information he knew to Hazel and Cha-Cha, we have a time jump and in the next scene, he's locked in a small closet in the motel room.
But what happened after he revealed the information? How did he end up in the closet? How did he handle the long hours locked up until Hazel and Cha-Cha came back late at night? How did he handle the guilt of telling about Five? How did he handle flashbacks and panic attacks?
| Comments: More pain. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32148223
“Relics in Amber'' by bacondoughnut | Rated T | 8,400 Words | Main Relationship: Dave Katz/Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Past Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus and Dave in Vietnam, Drug Use, Alcoholism, Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse | Synopsis:
"Klaus," Dave tries tentatively.
He almost asks if Klaus is okay, but the answer's already clear enough, and that question dies on his tongue. He can't immediately think of anything else to say though, and the silence makes Klaus's quiet whimpering all but deafening.
And Dave doesn't know how to handle this.
Or; the one where Klaus has a very bad night, and Dave is there to help.
| Comments: One of the first Klaus/Dave fics I read. Quite sad, but very soft. I’ve read this fic multiple times, it just hits all the spots. (this fic is locked, so you can only read it if you’re logged in)|
https://archiveofourown.org/works/40237791
“Single Red Thread” by riverwrenwrites | Rated T | 38,000 Words | Main Relationship: Dave Katz/Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Vampire AU, Soulmates, Reincarnation, Canon-Typical Violence, Mild Gore, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort | Synopsis:
In 1716, Klaus has lost the love of his life in a horrible tragedy and found himself cursed with immortality.
In 2019, Dave and his hunting partner Elliot are investigating a number of disappearances, and when they find themselves face to face with the vampire they think is behind it, Dave can't shake the feeling that he's met this man before...
| Comments: I don’t usually read AUs, and especially not AUs like this, but I like this writer and I was going through all of their TUA stuff. Very cute. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28650759
“Sneaking Out for Snowmen” by MalecAcid | Rated G | 800 Words | Main Relationship: Ben Hargreeves & Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Fluff, Pre-Canon | Synopsis:
"We should build a snowman." Diego said, excitedly clapping his cold hands together.
OR
Nothing but fluff ensues when Diego, Klaus, and Ben sneak out to build a snowman.
| Comments: Cute. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308621
“Someday (c’est la vie, c’est la vie)” by JaggedEmeraldsOfGold | Rated G | 5,200 Words | Main Relationship: Ben Hargreeves & Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Pre-Canon, Fluff, No Incest | Synopsis:
“Because I don’t go memorizing locations of old board games, especially when they’re in a dumpster,” Ben says, and Klaus doesn’t deign that with a response, instead climbing the precariously balanced trash bag pile, one hand reaching for the top edge of the dumpster while the other clutches the thin cardboard box to his chest. He drops himself over the edge, and lets himself fall on his ass onto the cement, hoping there isn’t something he wouldn’t voluntarily sit in waiting for him. There isn’t, he finds, and he climbs to his feet as Ben appears next to him, all collected and unbothered and otherwise immaculate.
“Come come!” Klaus tells him, and starts down the alley, away from the dumpster, staggering a few steps until he regains his footing. “Diego will love this, we’ll have a bunch of fun, and he’ll thank me for the relaxing break from work.”
“He isn’t— he won’t,” Ben calls after him, but Klaus feels him follow him out of the alley and back to the McDonald’s anyways.
Or: 21 year old Klaus and Diego (and Ben) chilling in a car, and then a McDonald's.
| Comments: Also cute. I’m a sucker for these three. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32896588
“Something Blue” by lemur_catta | Rated T | 2,200 Words | Main Relationship: Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Childhood Trauma | Synopsis:
Diego angsts his way through Allison's wedding to Patrick, unable to curb his growing disconnection from Klaus. (Takes place pre-season 1, 2013-ish.)
| Comments: Sad. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/41289621
“Ten Months” by Majure | Rated M | 150,000 Words | Main Relationship: Dave Katz/Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Minor Character Death, Klaus and Dave during Vietnam, Period-Typical Homophobia, Drug Use, Alcoholism, Mutual Pining, Bed Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Explicit Sex, Ghosts | Synopsis:
It makes him sad, sometimes, that in order to find acceptance, Klaus has to travel back fifty years into one of the bloodiest wars of American history. Most of the time, he doesn't care. His family probably doesn't even notice he's missing anyway.
---
Dave is looking at him, eyes soft and heavy lidded. “What did you say to that guy?” he asks, head resting on the wall, body turned towards Klaus.
“Ah,” Klaus laughs, dropping his hand to take a drink. “Just mouthed off. You know how I am.”
“That mouth will get you in trouble some day,” Dave says softly.
Klaus looks up, swallowing. “Some people like my mouth,” he says.
“I do.”
| Comments: This fic is not finished, and has not been updated in 2 years, but it is well worth it, I promise! I read it twice in two months, and it gave me all the emotions. I had to stop at one point because I started crying (I don’t cry while reading fics very often). Very good fic. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18214736
“The Wedding That Never Was” by Cate_Olivyn | Rated T | 2,500 Words | Main Relationship: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Grief/Mourning, Intoxication, Missing Scene | Synopsis:
Allison leaves the wedding after her argument with Viktor with a plan: take a bottle of booze and lock herself in her room where no one can bother her. This plan takes an unexpected turn when she finds Klaus half conscious in the upstairs hallway.
| Comments: A little cathartic to be honest. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/40268313
“The Zoo Is Better When It’s Not Dead” by sharkneto | Rated G | 11,000 Words | Main Relationship: Five Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Sibling Bonding | Synopsis:
Klaus needs a distraction from missing Ben. Five needs a distraction from... well, everything. Somehow, that means a day at the zoo.
| Comments: Actually acknowledges Five’s trauma, wow, a miracle. Very sweet, though a little disturbing at points. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32488858
“Things That We Got Wrong” by evesbeve | Rated T | 22,000 Words | Main Relationship: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Pre-Canon, Drug Use, Overdose, No Incest, Hurt/Comfort, Angst | Synopsis:
Ben suposes death isn't the weirdest thing that has happened to him. Becoming best friends with Klaus though? That he never would have guessed.
| Comments: *cries* I love them, your honour! |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/19794943
“Trouble Child” by ToriAnne | Rated M | 65,000 Words | Main Relationship: Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone | Important Tags: Temporary Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Canon, Post-Season 3, Body Horror | Synopsis:
The tentative peace between the Hargreeves siblings and their father is disrupted when Klaus returns from an unexpected trip to the afterlife with his powers restored. In the ensuing struggle, Klaus could be Five's greatest advantage, which turns him into Reginald's number one target. Hargreeves now remembers both his timelines, after all, and he is keenly aware that the most overlooked aspect of Klaus' abilities could lead to his downfall.
| Comments: Very good. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/41254302
“Who You Gonna Call..?” by riverwrenwrites | Rated T | 130,000 Words | Main Relationship: Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Buddy Cop AU, Murder Mystery, Fluff, Angst, Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Sibling Bonding, No Incest, Mild Gore | Synopsis:
At the ripe old age of 25, Diego is still struggling with that age-old problem of balancing work and pleasure. Especially when, for him, work is being a desk-bound police detective, and pleasure is running around back alleys as a masked vigilante. Lucky for him, he may have just stumbled on the perfect unsolvable case that will finally have him taking his career seriously. Unlucky for him, the only hope he has of cracking said unsolvable case lies with his drug riddled, party going, fashion innovator of a brother.
| Comments: First long fic I read! Very good, have read multiple times. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18371999
Honourable Mentions: These are some of the WIPs I’m reading.
“Chained” by Salvador_Daley | Rated M | Currently 50,000 Words | Main Relationship: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves | Important Tags: Pre-Canon, Murder Mystery, Angst, Drug Use, Blood and Injury | Synopsis:
“Hey, er…” He’s forgotten the boy’s name. Something with a G. Was it Gavin? Or Garth? “Hey, buddy. I got somewhere to be, but if you wake up now we can go for round two before I have to leave.”
Twenty-two-year-old Klaus Hargreeves awakes following a one-night stand with an enigmatic young artist.
Apart from a stinking hangover, he now has two problems: he possesses almost no memory of the night before and there’s a gruesome surprise in the bed.
Accused of a horrific crime, and with the police watching his every move, he faces a race against time to clear his name.
If he can only stay sober long enough to patch together the memories of that night, he might just stand a chance.
| Comments: Hasn’t updated in a few months, but I have hope. Has you on the edge of your seat and suspicious of everyone. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/34364929
“Where You Gonna Run To?” by ToriAnne | Rated T | Currently 43,000 Words | Main Relationship: Just the Brellies with each other | Important Tags: No Paradox AU, Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Non-Linear Narrative, Domestic Violence, Past Child Abuse, Religious Abuse | Synopsis:
Sparrow AU with no paradox. Ben uncovers a mystery in his father's office and won't rest until he has answers.
This is how the Umbrellas changed and remained the same as they lived separate lives, how they found each other even so, and what happened when they did.
| Comment: Updates every Wednesday. Excited to see where this fic goes. |
https://archiveofourown.org/works/44881930
#this is way longer than I thought it was gonna be#rip#the umbrella academy#tua#tua fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#fic rec#klaus hargreeves#klave#klaus x dave#long post#nat's posting
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I HAVE COMPLETELY FINISHED SKETCHING ALL THE ART FOR WHEELCHAIR AU
NOW ANY PROGRESS I MAKE ON IT WILL BE THE FINAL INKS INSTEAD WAFFLING ON WHAT TO DRAW NEXT
LETS GOOOOO
#UNFORTUNATELY IT IS 5AM OR ELSE I WOULD KEEP ON DRAWING#this is normal bedtime pls dont worry#i feed the cat at 4am and go to bed between 5-6#100% nocturnal baybee#i go to bed when the sun rises#nova's life is a bowl of fruitloops#i am so fucking PUMPED#GOD IT FEELS GOOD TO GET SHIT DONE#dcmk wheel of fortune
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Upon a dream
Dream x reader, being idiots, as always
Morpheus was truly the best boyfriend in the world. Romantic, poetic, attentive, tender, passionate.
If he had been real, he would have been truly wonderful.
But unfortunately such a perfect man couldn't exist, and so it was normal that Y/N only met him in her dreams.
During one of her nocturnal wanderings, she had found herself in a huge library, his library, and even if he had been surprised to find her there, he had not chased her away, allowing her to explore, showing her the castle, chatting at length with her.
It had been a beautiful dream, which she thought she would quickly forget. But she had dreamed of him again the following night, then every other night.
She was trying to convince herself that it was no big deal.
Her life wasn't so terrible, she had her family, her friends, her job, her hobbies. There were plenty of people who remained celibate all their lives and were perfectly happy being alone in front of the television, eating ice cream and imagining an ideal lover who would visit them in their sleep.
Nothing special.
"My love, you seem troubled tonight. Far from me. Are you alright ?"
"Yes, Morpheus. Excuse me, I'm just tired." Y/N apologized with a smile, snuggling into his arms to forget her worries, and the fact that he wouldn't be there when she woke up.
"Good. That's what I'm here for. You can rest in peace, I'm watching over you. What do you want to do, my love ? Lucienne would be happy to show you new books, Cain and Abel wish to tell new stories, Matthew asks for gossip from the waking world. We can also walk in the gardens, travel to the other side of the galaxy, or stay in bed. Tell me, my love, I am at your command."
"You're adorable. Anything is fine with me, as long as we do it together."
"My sweet." he whispered, kissing her.
As always, it was difficult for Y/N when she opened her eyes and found herself in her bedroom, alone, in her cold bed, just like when she went to sleep.
It was absurd, she repeated it to herself every time she was about to fall asleep, but a simple dream managed to make her feel things she had never felt in her entire existence. The human brain could really be fascinating. And dangerous.
Depressing.
Because even if she was terribly happy when she was with Morpheus, she was just as sad when she left him and returned to reality.
Several times, she had thought of talking to a doctor about it. To find a solution. But Y/N didn't really see what it was going to solve.
They were only going to tell her that she felt lonely, which she already knew, and that her dreams were trying to fill that void.
The only thing she could do was seek the company of real people when she was awake.
It was not easy.
If Y/N had been able to get a real boyfriend, she would have done it a long time ago.
And it was worse now, because no one could ever be as good as Morpheus. She was really in love with him.
In love with a dream, it was really depressing.
There was also this ridiculous idea in the back of her head, which kept telling her that it wouldn't be very proper to cheat on him. Even if he didn't exist.
He didn't exist. Morpheus didn't exist, he wasn't waiting for her in her dreams every night, he would never magically appear in front of her, and if he loved her, then he would understand that she was looking for someone to spend her life with.
After asking her friends for advice, one of them offered to introduce her to a charming man, with whom she could get along well. It was less risky than meeting a stranger, because they could tell he was a good person.
And if she didn't like him, it would be fine, she would find other suitors.
Désiré was indeed a charming man. Funny, kind, seductive. But during the whole evening they spent together, Y/N only thought of Morpheus.
When their hands touched at the end of the meal, she quickly pulled it away apologetically. He looked a little offended, but he didn't say anything, forcing a smile.
"It seems to me that I am not up to it." he sighed when it was time to part ways. "I don't like to lose, but I know when I'm not... wanted. Which doesn't happen often. He's lucky. He doesn't deserve it."
"... I don't understand what you are talking about."
"Oh, darling. I think that's the part I find the funniest. He'll be pissed that we had dinner together, but I can't imagine his reaction at all when he finds out why we had dinner together. "
"It's late, I have to go home."
"You're right. Sweet dreams." he purred, throwing a kiss at her.
Y/N did not try to understand what Désiré had meant. No doubt he had drunk too much alcohol during the meal, and he had guessed that there was someone else in her heart.
Going to bed, she relaxed thinking that she was finally going to find Morpheus and his marvellous kingdom, after this long day.
The throne room was horribly empty and cold when she materialized there. Sitting on the steps of his huge staircase, Morpheus watched her with an impassive face.
"How was my brother-sister ?"
"... Your what ?"
"Desire. You were with them all night. At first I thought I had to step in, that they were going to try to hurt you, but... Matthew told me you asked to have dinner with them. A "date". You asked your friends to find you a 'date', several 'dates'. So I'm not enough for you ? You don't love me anymore ? Are you making fun of me ?"
"Morpheus." she sighed sadly. "Of course I love you. I love you more than anything."
"But not enough to be faithful."
"Oh, I knew my mind would go to that ground, it's really not fair."
"... Your mind ?" he repeated slowly.
"Listen, I love you. But you're not real. It's just a dream. I can't wake up every morning to be reminded that this isn't true, that I'm alone, not loved, and the only times I feel some joy are during my sleep, with a being that my subconscious has invented. You are perfect, and the more time I spend with you, in this fabulous world, the more I cut myself of the real world. It's not healthy."
“It is true that it is not good for mortals to live in the Dream. But that does not mean that it is not real. That we are not real. You... You really don't know who I am ? You really don't know it's not just a dream ? It's never just a dream."
"Morpheus... Don't make me hope in vain."
"I told you to go on dates in the waking world, boss. Just because you always say you exist doesn't mean the lady is going to believe it's true."
The little raven trembled a bit when his master looked at him, flying away to rest on Y/N's shoulder, where he would be safe, for the moment.
"Maybe I should have listened to you, Matthew. But it's not too late. Desire also showed me that our love was strong, they couldn't do anything against it. I just have to make up for my mistake."
Slowly, Morpheus stood up, approaching Y/N, who didn't know what to make of this dream. It really wasn't like the other nights.
He caressed her cheek tenderly, before kissing her like every time she was going to have to leave soon.
"When you wake up my love, I'll be there and you won't have any reason to be sad, or look for another partner."
"Don't make me..."
"This dream is over."
Jumping up in bed, Y/N first looked at the window, seeing that it was still dark. She then looked at the time, which made her sigh. It was still very late.
"Good evening my love."
This time, in addition to jumping, she screamed, falling off her bed. Immediately, a man came running to her side, asking her if she was alright and helping her to sit on the mattress. He had the voice of Morpheus. And his face.
No, it was impossible.
"Well done, boss. Subtle. She wasn't scared at all."
"Silence, Matthew. My love, forgive me, I told you I would be here."
"... I'm still dreaming ?"
"No."
"So this is it, I'm crazy."
"You are not in my younger sister's domain, I can assure you. I should have explained a lot about myself to you more clearly, I should have visited you in the waking world earlier. We were so happy I was not thinking, as soon as you appeared in front of me I only wanted to be with you and I did not see that I was hurting you. I apologize. My love, I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, king of dreams and nightmares, prince of stories, and I am very real."
"... You are real." she said softly, touching his face to make sure he really wasn't an illusion. He closed his eyes when her fingers touched his skin, turning to make them pass on his lips. "All this time, you've been real. And I almost dated another man. You must hate me."
"I wasn't thrilled by this news, but there was a misunderstanding, so I forgive you, if you promise me never to do this again, and to stay away from Desire."
"His name is Désiré, and okay."
"Desire is my brother sister, my sibling. Another Endless. They wanted to have fun with you, at my expense, but your feelings were strong and sincere, preventing them from manipulating you, and proving to me that I had no reason to be jealous."
"But you were still a little jealous."
"No."
"Boss." muttered the raven, poking its head out of its creator's cloak. "Boss, you're really bad with girls. You always have to say yes. Yes I'm jealous, but I trust you, I love you, I don't deserve you and I'll do anything to be worthy of..."
"Thanks Matthew, you can go back to the Dreaming now."
"I'm a good wingman, I think it's safer if I stay."
"My love and I are together for the first time in the waking world, at night, in her room, on her bed."
"... See you, boss ! Madam ! Be good !"
The raven disappeared back into the cloak. Morpheus waited a few moments, as if wanting to make sure he was gone, before laying sensually on top of her, suddenly looking a bit taller, his shadow enveloping the entire room as a sort of purr emanated from him. Y/N wondered if she was really awake.
"So, my love, what do you want to do ?" he asked, as he asked her every night.
"Hmm... I'm too tired to go out. It's a little late to read, watch a movie or even dance. So what could we do ?"
"What, indeed ?"
"Is the king of dreams sleeping ? Is he dreaming ?"
"No, and no. But I think about you all the time, to the point that it interferes with my work. A lot of people often dreamed of you, because I wasn't concentrating enough."
"Are you willing to sleep with me ? I mean, sleep sleep. I'm really tired. But if you're here tomorrow morning... You know."
"It would be an honour for me to watch over you while you sleep. I already do it every night, but to hold you in my arms while you are asleep. It is the most beautiful proof of love and trust. Not many people realize that there is nothing more vulnerable than a sleeping being. Thank you for this gift, my love."
Smiling, Y/N snuggled up to him after being settled under the covers. She would have liked to listen to his heart before falling asleep, but obviously he had none. He didn't need it, he wasn't human.
They would talk about that later, and the consequences that implied.
But now she was tired, and happy that Morpheus was really there, in her bed.
"Are you really not going to sleep ?"
"No. I'm going to beg my father for the night to pass faster, so that it's morning and we… You know."
Y/N would also ask him about his strange family when she was better awake. In the meantime, she fell asleep peacefully in the arms of Morpheus, who sang her a lullaby while stroking her hair.
#sandman#the sandman#dream#dream of the endless#dream of the endless fanfiction#dream of the endless x reader#morpheus#morpheus x reader#tom sturridge
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So Live A Lie, Just Tonight, And Burn Out Bright
Batsis x Hal Jordan One-Shot
Word Count: 3.8K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes
Author's Note: I decided to compile that one Batsis "story" into one doc, and I added the alternate ending for the one anon who asked! Enjoy! -Thorne
**********************************************************************
“Alright, easy sis, easy,” he worried, watching her carefully for signs of pain flickering across her face as he helped her off the bike.
She scowled, managing to drag her injured leg forward. “Quit nagging. I’m—ngh—fine.”
“You’re on emergency oxycodone and you’ve got a broken femur,” he retorted. “I’m nagging until you’re in surgery.”
“Ugh, stop reminding me.”
Someone hauled her off her feet with a quiet, “I’ve got you.”
She grunted in pain laying on the gurney. “Thanks, dad.”
“Miss Wayne, are you alright?”
Her eyes found Alfred’s. “I’m good. I just ne—motherfucker!” she yelped, glaring at her father who was squeezing her thigh. “Hey! That’s broken, jackass! Quit!”
Bruce grunted. “You need an ORIF now.”
A pinch in her arm made her twitch and she turned her attention to Alfred who was uncapping a needle. “Alfred, what’s that?”
He shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, Miss Wayne.” Smiling, he stuck the needle into the line. “You’ll feel better when you awaken.”
Her vision blurred rapidly, “Gonna take…a nap…now…” her head lolled, and Bruce met Alfred’s gaze.
“Call Damian. He’s got the steady hand we’ll need.”
***
“How’re you feeling?” Jason asked, setting a cup of juice on the bedside table.
She blinked slowly, staring at her fingers. “Why are my fingers like this?”
“Like what, Queenie?”
“Bendy,” she replied, flexing her fingers. “It’s fuckin’ weird.” She looked at him. “I feel weird.”
He snorted, nodding at Dick and the others who were walking in at the sound of her voice. “You’re on hydromorphone, sis.”
“Hydro—what-what?”
“Hydromorphone, sister,” Damian said. “It has increased your threshold for pain and reduced the perception of it.”
She stared at him like she hadn’t heard a word come out of his mouth. “I didn’t understand a single goddamn word that you just said.”
Snickers sounded around her, but her head was up in the clouds and she rested back against her pillow. Her family gathered around her, sitting up on the bed, and suddenly she cocked her head up, squinting at each of them.
“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” Bruce inquired.
“Where’s Dick?”
“I’m right here, sis,” he answered, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “What’s up?”
“Why’d you break up with Kori?”
His eyes widened. “I—what?”
“Kori. Tall alien with the shooty-hands.”
“I know who she is. What about our breakup?”
“Are you kidding me? That woman is spectacular, and you broke up with her. She’s gorgeous, wicked intelligent, fantastic in bed and—”
“Wait, back up there,” he interrupted. “Good in bed? Did you sleep with, Kori?”
“Oh yeah, totally. I was her rebound after you.”
Dick blinked while the others cackled. “Have you…have you slept with any other exes?”
“Of yours? Or in general with the family’s exes?”
“Wait,” Jason said. “Have you slept with any of mine?”
“Did you date Artemis?”
He shrugged. “Sort of?”
“Then, yes.” She looked at Bruce. “I slept with Selina too, but to be completely honest we were both drunk and I don’t think either of us remember.”
“I uh—” he started, then quieted. “I didn’t know you were gay, sweetheart.”
She let out a ‘pfft’. “I’m not.”
“Oh, you’re bi, then?” Dick smiled and she shook her head.
“Nah, I like the wine but not the label.” She grinned. “I’m a lover of people.”
“How many superheroes have you slept with?” Tim questioned and she pursed her lips.
“Uh…I dunno…kinda lost count.”
For a moment no one said a word, then Jason asked, “You know how we call Dickhead the fuck-boy? Can we refer to you as that now? I think you’ve topped his count.”
Her eyes narrowed into a glare and she pointed at him, though she was seeing double, so it was entirely possible that she was pointing at the wall. “Keep that up and I’ll sleep with your best friend again.”
“You slept with Roy?!”
“I was talking about Kyle, but Roy works too.”
“OH MY GOD! IS THERE ANYONE YOU HAVEN’T SLEPT WITH?”
She thought for a moment, then offered, “Diana. But I asked her out last weekend so it’s up in the air until our date.”
***Part Two***
There was only one rule that everyone collectively followed in Wayne Manor and that was: no excessive noise until after twelve P.M. It was mostly influenced by Alfred who’d more than once pulled out the shotgun but surprisingly, mornings were usually calm and quiet. Keywords: “Were” and “Usually”. There were some special cases.
An ear-splitting scream shattered the silence of the breakfast room and in an instant, everyone was jumping from the table, sprinting towards the staircase to find out what was quite possibly murdering their eldest sister. As they neared the staircase, they came face to face with her as she stood behind the banister, her hands gripping the railing until her knuckles started whitening.
“Sis, what’s wrong?” Dick worried, already starting to come up the steps, Jason and Tim close behind.
“I’m late,” she whispered, and they leaned forward.
“What was that?” Bruce inquired, brows furrowing, and she looked at him.
“I’m late.” Her voice was firmer this time.
He blinked. “How long?”
“Two months.”
“Wait, what’s going on?��� Jason questioned, shaking his head and she scowled.
“My period’s late, jackass.”
She wished she’d taken a photo of their faces, because nothing would ever amuse her as much as the way their jaws went slack, eyes widening in total shock. Running a hand down her face, she groaned, “Oh my God. I knew something was up. I completely forgot about it.”
“Sooooo…” Tim drawled out with a recovered grin. “Who’s the daddy?”
Her eyes narrowed and she shot him a glare. “Shut. Up.”
“C’mon sis, someone—some guy did it for you.” Jason quipped. “Who’s the lucky man?” he paused, seeming to remember something. “How many superheroes have you slept with in two months? That have dicks, of course.” She clenched her jaw and his eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no…is it, Roy?”
“It’s not Roy!” she hissed.
“Kyle?” Dick offered and she shook her head.
“No. I’ve only slept with one guy in the past two months.”
“Who was it sister?” Damian quizzed, placing his hands on his hips. “I have yet to meet anyone acceptable for you to populate with.”
“Thanks Damian,” she griped, then groaned. “Oh God, I know who it is too. And I wish I didn’t.”
“Why’s that?”
Her eyes found Tim’s. “Because we were drunk as hell after a League mission.”
“Who is it?” Bruce grunted and she met his gaze.
“You’re not going to like it.”
Something passed between them, and his eyes narrowed. “Please don’t say that’s who you slept with.”
She nodded, pressing a hand to her face, hiding her embarrassment. “Mhm.”
“You slept with him?”
“Unfortunately.”
Jason looked between his sister and father. “Wait, I’m confused. What’s going on?” A snort sounded beside him, and he looked over, seeing Dick in tears. “Why are you crying? What’s so funny?”
Dick cackled. “SHE SLEPT WITH HAL JORDAN!”
Another round of slack jawed brothers appeared in her sight, and she hissed. “It was an accident!”
“YOU’RE HAVING A BABY WITH HAL JORDAN!” Dick gasped, starting to drop to his knees from laughing so hard. “OH MY GOD, YOU SLEPT WITH THE GUY DAD HATES THE MOST!”
“You slept with Hal Jordan?” Tim gagged. “Ew.”
“Sister, I am disgusted in your choice of partners for children.” Damian noted and she scowled.
“I hate all of you.” she looked at Bruce.
He sighed heavily, a defeated father…or maybe a defeated grandfather. “I’ll go call Hal…and order prenatal vitamins.”
She ran a hand down her face. “I’ll call Leslie and get in for an exam.”
“Holy shit,” Jason gasped. “We’re gonna be uncles!”
***Part Three***
He shifted the phone to rest between his ear and shoulder, hands busy pouring coffee into his cup. “Hello?”
What are you doing right now?
“Bruce? Is that you?”
Answer the question, Hal.
He rolled his eyes and frowned. “Well, it’s nine A.M., I’m making a cup of coffee. I know bats are nocturnal, so this might come as a surprise to someone like you, but rest assured it’s a normal habit for us normal folks.”
How fast can you get to Gotham City?
“Willingly?” Hal chuckled, setting down the coffee pot to grab the phone. “What’s going on?”
I need your…help…with something. And I need you in Gotham as fast as you can get here…please.
He almost dropped both the phone and coffee mug. “Did you just say you need my he—” the line went dead with a click, and he pulled the phone from his ear. “Asshole,” Hal scowled and shoved the phone in his pocket, before putting the mug down. His body flashed green as he suited up and he sighed. “Can’t believe I gotta go to the land of the living dead at nine A.M.”
***
He rubbed his temples as he disconnected the call, barely suppressing the sigh that wanted to escape him. “Are you mad at me?” he heard behind him, low, scared, and worried; he shook his head.
“No.”
She leaned against the desk, staring down at the side of his head. “Are you disappointed in me?”
Bruce sighed this time. “At your basic lack of common sense and sleeping with a team member despite the fact that I’ve told you time and again that inner-team-dalliances only end badly? Yes.” He turned his eyes to her. “But for being pregnant? Never.”
“Doesn’t seem like it, dad,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest; he watched them lower to hold her stomach.
“I think Hal Jordan’s an idiot,” he stated. “If it seems like I’m upset, it’s because he’s going to be my grandchild’s father and I’ll have to be nice to him now.” She huffed a laugh and he reached over, placing a hand on her arm. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. We’ll take care of this.”
“I know, it’s just…” she sighed. “I never expected this to happen.”
“No one ever does,” Bruce answered. “Have you contacted Leslie yet?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go see her around three.” Grunting, she muttered, “Figured if Hal got here in as soon as possible, we’d have enough time to sit and talk about this before we went.” She ran a hand over her face. “God, I can’t believe I Hal knocked me up.”
“Please don’t say that,” Bruce griped. “I don’t like that phrase.”
“But that’s what happened, dad. I got knocked up by Hal.”
“Why do you hate me?” he scowled, dropping his head into his hands. “How did this even happen?”
Sighing, she recounted, “After the mission in Brazil, Hal invited Barry back to Coast City for a drink and Barry invited me.” She shrugged. “I didn’t wanna be rude even if I am typically antisocial, so I accepted, and we got there and found a bar. After a couple hours, Barry had to get back to Central and we just decided to keep drinking.”
She grunted. “Hell, by seven thirty we were already gone so we got a ride back to his place and he offered to let me stay the night and one thing led to another and—”
Bruce raised his hand, effectively silencing her. “I can infer what happened after that.” He rubbed his temples. “Let’s just wait for Hal to get here, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she agreed, falling silent.
***
Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Jordan, is here, sir.” They both looked up from the Batcomputer at the test pilot.
“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said, and the butler nodded, ascending the steps.
Hal walked towards them. “So, what’s the deal? Why do you need me?”
Bruce looked at her and she sighed. “Actually, I’m the one who needed you to come here, Hal.”
His brown eyes darted to hers, a flash, a recognition of something and he nodded. “Aright. What’s up?”
“Dad…give us a moment?” he nodded and stood from the Batcomputer, walking to the medical section on the other side of the cave. She waved Hal over. “You might wanna sit down.”
He did, albeit suspiciously. “Why are you acting so…weird?”
“Hal,” she said, then looked at her hands. “I’m…ah crap.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowing.
She took a deep breath and admitted, “My period’s late and there’s a good chance I’m pregnant.”
For a moment, Hal didn’t say a word, then he burst into laughter. “Oh, that’s hilarious!” he held his stomach and wiped his eyes. “That’s a good one.”
“I’m not joking, Hal,” she spat. “In the last three months, you’re the only man I’ve had sex with. If I’m pregnant, you’re the father.”
He stopped laughing at that. “Are you being serious?”
“Dead.”
Hal ran a hand through his brown hair and let out a shocked breath. “Holy hell.” She watched him and he gaped at her. “W-what…what do we do?”
“I’ve got an appointment with Doctor Leslie at four. You’re welcome to come along if you’d like.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.” Swallowing thickly, he said, “Does he know?”
“Dad? Yeah. They all do.”
“They?” he repeated, eyes wide.
“My brothers.”
“You told them we slept together?”
She chuckled. “Apparently a year ago under heavy meds, I admitted I slept with Dad, Dick, and Jason’s exes.” She shrugged. “There’s not much I keep from them.”
Hal’s eyes shifted to Bruce’s back. “Can’t imagine the Big-Bat is happy about this.”
“Oh, he’s not. He thinks you’re an idiot, but judging by the look on your face, you already know that.”
He scoffed. “Your dad likes to think he’s smarter than everyone else.”
She cocked a brow. “He is.”
“And it seems like you’re following that strain well,” he shot back, and they glared at each other before cracking smiles.
“If this is real, we’re going to be some parents, huh?”
Hal could sense the fear in her voice, and he stood in front of her, placing his hands on her hips. “Hey,” he murmured. “No parents are perfect. And we’re sure as hell not.”
“If this is supposed to cheer me up, it’s not.”
“I’m not trying to cheer you up. I’m trying to reassure you,” he corrected, squeezing her hips lightly. “We’ll work through this, and we’ll do it together.”
She gazed at him then heaved a sigh and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Thanks Hal.”
“Don’t mention it,” he chuckled, then murmured, “But if we really are going to be parents, should we tie the knot?”
“Absolutely not.”
***
“Hal, for the love of God, will you sit down?” she griped. “You’re starting to make me anxious with all that pacing.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair before shrugging off his bomber. “I can’t help it,” he retorted. “I hate waiting.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” She rolled her eyes. “Leslie’s working as fast as she can. Just sit down and be patient.”
Hal paced for another minute before collapsing into the seat beside her; she took his hand in hers and rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand. “What are you doing?” he asked, and she hummed.
“Comforting you.”
“Why?”
She looked at him. “Because you’re worried.”
“How are you not?”
“I am,” she commented, and he scowled.
“You don’t look it.”
“Well, that’s because I was trained to retain my emotions a as child,” she retorted. “It helps when I’m dealing with children who are scared.”
“I’m not a child,” Hal hissed, and she snorted.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“You know what? I’m gonna—”
The door opened and their mouths snapped shut as Leslie walked in with a smile. “Good afternoon.”
“Hey Leslie,” she greeted, then glanced at the papers in her hand. “So? What’s the verdict?”
Leslie handed her the file and she looked it over. “Case of irregular period, dear.”
She blinked and said dumbly, “I’m not pregnant?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Our bodies act up sometimes, even when we’re grown. Irregularities can still happen even now.” Clearing her throat, Leslie added, “But your blood and urinalysis came back negative. You’re not pregnant.” She looked between Hal and her. “With the results, you’re free to leave.”
She stood to her feet, but when Hal didn’t, she tugged his hand. “Hal,” she whispered. “Come on.”
He staggered to his feet. “Yeah, I’m coming.” He disappeared out of the clinic room, and she sighed, then looked at Leslie.
“Thanks doc.”
“Of course.”
***
They were quiet on the park bench, watching the sun reflect off the water and listening to the birds singing in the sky. “So…I guess that’s a relief,” Hal stated, and she nodded.
“Yeah. I guess it is.” Laughing, she said, “I mean could you imagine if I were actually carrying your kid?” when he didn’t laugh, she looked over at him. “Hal?”
He blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah, couldn’t imagine it.”
“Hal,” she plead. “Are you upset that I’m not?”
“What? No. No, I’m relieved you’re not pregnant, but…” he sighed and shrugged. “I dunno at the same time as scared as I was, I was happy, you know? Ready to step up and be there for you.”
She lowered her gaze to his hands and reached over, placing hers over his and he took it, squeezing. “Well, look at it this way. This was the universe telling you that you’re ready to be a father and this was the universe telling me that I’m not ready to be a mom or your baby’s mother.”
Hal gazed at her for a moment then chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He squeezed her hand again and climbed to his feet, flashing green as his suit appeared. “Now that everything’s sorted out, I should be getting back to Coast City.”
“Sounds good,” she agreed, standing to her feet.
“Can I drop you off anywhere?”
“Nah, I’m gonna walk around for a bit,” she said.
Hal took to the sky then looked down at her. “If you ever find yourself ready…call me?”
A shocked laugh bubbled in her chest, and she shook her head. “Not a chance in hell, Jordan.”
“Come on, don’t you think it would be fun to have the old Bat call me his son in law?”
Giggling, she waved him off. “Get out of here, Hal.”
Winking, he replied, “See you later, babe.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle and watch him leave, then she shook her head. “Ridiculous.” But a small smile was still on her lips as she headed down the street.
***Alternate Ending***
She gazed numbly out at the water, not sure if she should feel surprise or shock, but whatever emotion she was feeling had completely dumbfounded her. She was pregnant. Her hands had unconsciously pressed tight to her stomach, and she felt sick more than anything. Sick, scared, ashamed, every emotion that came with sleeping with a coworker—and every TV show and movie where the woman got pregnant from the affair.
How was she going to explain this to her family? To her friends? How was she going to face their scrutiny? Pregnant out of wedlock? With the biggest skirt-chasing, arrogant asshole in the galaxy? She’d take the brunt of their scathing opinions. He’d get off scot-free. He’d—
“(Y/N).” Someone’s hand rested on her shoulder, and she blinked, suddenly brought from her stupor and she looked over at him; his gaze was full of worry. “Are you okay?”
Instantly, she felt angry, and she jerked away from him, standing to her feet. “Am I okay!” she shouted. “You got me pregnant! Do you have any idea what this is going to do to us! To our reputations! To mine!”
Irritation etched across his face, and he stood to his feet, getting in her face. “It takes two to tango, (Y/N). We both did this—not just me.”
Her mouth opened to retort sharply, but damned if he didn’t have a point and she shut her mouth, tasting something bitter as she looked away. “I’m going home.”
She turned and his hand shot out, grabbing hold of her arm. “Wait, I don’t want you going alone.”
“Let go of me.” She hissed, trying to pull away, but he tightened his grip.
“No. It’s too dangerous for you to be out alone.”
(Y/N) scoffed. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to Jordan. I’m—”
“The mother of my child.” Hal declared and she gaped at him. “I know what you and your family think of me. I know you think I’m an arrogant asshole and yeah, I’ll admit that I am.” He pulled her to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. “But if you think for a second, I’m going to let you wander around this bat-shit crazy city alone while pregnant, then you’re the one who’s being arrogant.”
He searched her gaze. “I’m many things, (Y/N). But I’m not going to abandon you or shy away from whatever this is.”
She swallowed thickly. “What do you mean ‘whatever this is’? Parents?”
“Us.” Hal said. “Maybe it’s just my big head, but I see the way you look at me. Yeah, I annoy the hell out of you, but you care for me.” He reached up, cupping her cheek. “And I care about you too. More than just what teammates should for one another.”
(Y/N) didn’t know what to say, because he did have a point. Hal was an annoying prick who at many times provoked her into physical confrontation, but on the other hand, there was nothing she loved more than fighting with him, because she knew he found it just as amusing.
Her gaze lowered and she felt tears well in her eyes. “I’m scared, Hal.”
“I know. I am too,” he murmured. “But we’re going to get through this.” He tipped her head up, catching her eyes once more. “We will get through this. Together.”
(Y/N)’s lips wobbled, and she tried for a lighthearted comment. “Isn’t fraternization against the rules?”
Hal grinned. “Only in the military.” He winked. “Last time I checked—we’re not in it.”
She laughed, leaning forward, and pressed her forehead to his. “How’s everyone going to react to this?”
He shrugged. “Probably with shock. I mean about me getting a girl pregnant? Not likely. Getting you pregnant? More likely.”
“Shut up.”
“I think we should consider getting married though.”
(Y/N) pulled away and stared at him. “Excuse me?”
Hal looked at her. “(Y/N), we should think about getting married. I mean, we’re gonna have a kid together. Might as well tie the knot while we’re at it.”
She merely blinked and spun, walking off. “Nope. Not happening. I’ll be your baby-mama, but I am not marrying you.”
“Hey! Wait up!”
#batfamily x reader#batfamily x reader imagine#batfamily x reader imagines#batfamily x batsis imagine#batfamily x batsis imagines#batfamily x batsis#batfamily imagines#batfamily imagine#batsis x batfamily imagine#batsis x batfamily imagines#batsis x batfamily#batsis imagines#batsis imagine#batsis#batfamily#hal jordan x reader imagine#hal jordan x reader imagines#hal jordan x reader#hal jordan imagine#hal jordan imagines#hal jordan#green lantern x reader imagines#green lantern x reader imagine#green lantern x reader#green lantern imagine#green lantern imagines#green lantern#dc comics#dc imagines#dc imagine
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Bakusquad + “Why are you awake” Part Two
PART ONE HERE
So here’s part two! Fun fact, the song Jirou plays you in her part is actually a song I wrote! I didn’t include any of the lyrics though because its lowkey really cheesy :/
I hope you like this! This one is for Sero, Mina, and Jirou.
Warnings: insomnia, depression kinda
Sero Hanta
- Sero is very much a hypocrite when it comes to getting enough sleep
- He’s constantly up at all hours, even sending you random texts if he can’t sleep
- But when you aren’t going to bed at a normal time?
- He’s so sad
- He looks like you kicked his puppy and then him in rapid succession.
- It’s crazy because he seems to just instinctively know when you’re awake
- Like he bolts up in his bed all, “they ain’t in bed. I’m abt to beat some ass.”
- He’s never sure if he’s right though, so he texts you a meme he made specifically for you being up too late
- It’s probably really cheesy and outdated, but the effort is there
- If you respond to it (because you will) he knocks on the wall between your dorms and talks to you
- Often, you both just stay up like that
Sero’s body is awake before his mind, moving him to sit up in bed before he can think. He was having a really intense dream; something about talking mice. He didn’t mind it, but he woke up as if he’d had a nightmare.
Faintly, from the wall beside him, he can hear low music playing, but he can’t make out what song it is. It’s coming from your room, though, so he’s concerned.
The sky outside is dark, clouds drifting across his windowed view of the moon. It must be pretty late; all the noise is gone, leaving nothing but static air, and the music. He leans over his bed to look at the time on his phone. It’s around 2 am. The song you’re playing ends, and he recognizes the next one. It’s on your sad playlist.
He sends you the meme, as well as an invitation for a hug as soon as it’s morning. You respond almost instantly, assuring him that you’re fine, you just couldn’t sleep. But he knows you better than that.
Knocking on the wall between you, he hears the music stop suddenly. He calls out to your wall.
“Mi amor? What’s keeping you awake?” He’s met with silence for a moment before your shaky voice responds.
“I’m okay. I just kinda got hit with some sad, y’know?” He does know. He knows that this happens sometimes. It happens to him, too. But he hates hearing your voice sound so lost. You almost sound hopeless, and he can’t bear it.
“I understand.” He places his hand up to the wall, wishing he could hold you. Unfortunately, you had both been told off by Iida for sleeping in each other’s rooms more than enough times lately, so he couldn’t just go see you. He opts instead for hugging a stuffed giraffe you had gotten him after the Sports Festival.
“Do you want me to distract you, or do you want to talk about it?” He asks, stroking the giraffe’s head as if it’s your hair, not knowing that on the other side of the wall, you’re holding a stuffed lion the same way.
“Distract me?” Your voice comes out only just loud enough for him to hear you, but he understands. He begins to tell you a story. He’s told it before. It’s about a great hero, one who fights crime valiantly, and his partner, also a fantastic hero. He ad-libs parts of it, making pretend villains say silly slogans, and recounting how the heroes save the day.
As he reaches the end, he hears you giggle a bit. “Oh? Did it work? Are you smiling over there, my sweet?” He calls to you, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“A little bit.” You respond, playing with your stuffed animal. “If you keep talking, maybe I’ll even smile more.”
He laughs, eyes bleary with sleep, but happy to talk to you the whole night.
Mina Ashido
- Honestly, she’s no better than you about staying awake
- She tries to sleep, but her thoughts are always racing
- Sometimes it’s thoughts of you, sometimes of new things she wants to try in training, or things she wants to see if she can convince her friends to do
- But she wants you to get adequate rest, even if it’s hard for her to do the same
- She used to get told off for sneaking to your room every night, but then Momo and Iida saw how much better you were performing in school on the days after she’d been there, and they started letting it slide
- It’s nicer for her, too, because she has someone to ramble to as the two of you fall asleep
Mina skipped down the hallway toward your room. It was a bit past midnight, and usually, you would be asleep by this time. It was well past lights out, and classes had run long that day, not to mention the endless exams that were happening at UA right now. So when she reached your door, she was surprised to find you watching a movie on your phone instead of snoring.
“Hey bug! Why are you still up, don’t you know what time it is?” She says, throwing a grin your way as she puts her blanket down next to you.
You shrug, yawning. “I could ask you the same thing, love.” She pouts at that, tossing her arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.
She watches you watching your show for a few minutes before saying anything. It looks good, she supposes, but she has a better idea of what to watch. “Scoot over.” She pushes you lightly, giggling as you scrunch to the side to give her more room. “Do you wanna watch something with me?” She asks, holding up her phone.
You look at her for a moment. “That is what we are currently doing, is it not?” You hold up your phone in return, showing her the paused screen.
“But I have a better movie!” She insists, unlocking her screen and shoving it above yours so that you can see her pick. She’s right, it is a better movie. You guys have watched the entire Studio Ghibli filmography, but even you know that her favorite, “When Marnie was There,” is the better option at this particular moment.
You toss your phone to the side, pulling her in to lay next to you. “Fair enough, bubs, I guess yours is better.” You feign reluctance, watching her excitedly press play and tuck the blanket in around the both of you. Her arm curls tighter around your shoulders, and she giggles as the opening credits start.
“Hey Minari?” You use her favorite nickname, looking at her through hooded, sleepy eyes. She hums in response. “Why is this one your favorite?”
Hearing the question, she pauses the movie, turning to look right at you. She’s quiet for a moment, thinking about her answer. “I guess because they remind me of us! Like I’m Marnie, and you’re Anna, and we’re having this great adventure together!” You feel your face heat at her words, thinking about the movie more critically now. Mina continues, “It’s like…” she pauses, finding the right words. “Like Anna is learning how her friendship with Marnie can make her feel more right, as a person. And I feel like that about you!”
You’re tearing up now, unsure how to respond. Mina is so many things, and being with you is that important to her? It’s a new feeling, but certainly a welcome one. You pull her down, giving her a kiss. And then another kiss. And one on her nose.
“Press play, Mina.”
Kyoka Jirou
- Lol u think she sleeps?
- She does, but not at night
- Were it not for classes, Jirou would be essentially nocturnal
- So you try to remind her to go to sleep
- Sometimes you’ll walk past her dorm at night, and you hear her guitar, softly playing her favorite songs
- Before you got together, sometimes you would sit outside her door and listen to her play
- Not in a creepy way, there’s just a little common area right outside her room and you like took a book there, you weren’t like ooh it’s late i think i’ll sit outside someone’s room and listen to them
- You aren’t Mineta.
- But anyway
- Now that you are together, Jirou thinks it’s really sweet that you listen to her play
- Sometimes she leaves her door cracked open so you can come in
It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and the light is on in Jirou’s room. You had come out to go to the bathroom, but you noticed her guitar, and decided to stay. The soft strumming is pretty, and you’re glad to be one of the few people allowed to hear it.
Opening Jirou’s door just a bit more, you nod toward her desk chair in a silent question. She nods, so you go sit down.
She’s playing a song you don’t recognize, and the lyrics are sad. Even still, it’s beautiful, and your eyes seem to naturally close, taking in the melody of her voice. She used to tell you her voice wasn’t anything special, but she seems content now to let you listen.
The guitar resonates with the last few chords, and the ending note is held for three beats. When she’s finished, Jirou opens her eyes and looks at you, waiting for your thoughts.
“It was beautiful. Did you write that?” You ask her, your hands fidgeting with the urge to hold her own. She nods, but doesn’t say anything.
You don’t acknowledge the sad theme of the song. She’s told you before that sometimes sad songs are easier than happy ones. That the melody is clearer. You don’t mind. All her songs are beautiful, and they reflect her in them, and isn’t that what makes a piece of art?
“I have another one, if you’d like to hear it?” She looks nervous; something you never see on her.
“I’d love to!” Your exclamation seems to snap her out of the anxiety in her eyes, which narrow a little.
“Just…” She starts, looking away from you to adjust the capo on her instrument. “Don’t freak out, okay?”
Confused, you nod, and she starts playing.
The song starts out with a few chords repeating in a loop, and then she begins to sing. The lyrics are confusing to you at first, and you still aren’t sure why she’s told you not to freak out. But then she gets to the chorus, and it begins to make more sense.
Lyrics, in essence, are a poem, and this one is a love poem. Her thoughts, written out, are so sweet and loving, that you’re sure you don’t know what to think. She sings elegantly, like someone who’s never known how to dance, and yet is waltzing perfectly across a shining floor.
She finishes the song with a declaration of loyalty, and you realize your eyes are watering. She looks at you, waiting for your thoughts.
You say nothing. You don’t know how to say anything, so you stand, cross to her, and pull her into a hug. She’s not usually one for physical touch, but she holds you tightly.
“It’s about me, right?” You laugh, leaving a kiss on her calloused fingers. She rolls her eyes.
“Obviously.”
She smiles at you, pulling you to lay on her bed as she puts her guitar in its case, taking the capo off the strings. “You should sleep. It’s like, morning now.”
“You should too.” You retort, still holding her hand.
“No.”
#mha fluff#mha x reader#mha imagines#sero x reader#sero hanta#sero hanta x reader#mina ashido#mina x reader#mina ashido x reader#jirou x reader#kyoka jirou x reader#mina ashido fluff#sero fluff#jirou fluff
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Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 6
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence, and a line that hints at past physical abuse (depending on how you choose to interpret it) Warnings: Mild TW for implied/referenced abuse Notes: Okay so this was supposed to be somewhat therapeutic? But it ended up taking longer to get to that part than I intended, so... Don't worry though, next chapter will be fluffy and also involve more, like, actual Daniela scenes. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2 Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco
Chapter 6: Elegy
(Elegy: A piece of music in the form of a lament)
When you dream, you do not dream of being locked in a tower, awaiting a kindly knight to come save you. When you dream… you dream of your old home, infested with monsters, nearly unrecognizable. Of being forced to flee, leaving everything you loved behind. Of escaping to a remote, quaint little village, only to end up trapped once again, as friendly faces morph into gaping maws and fangs dripping red. When you dream, it is less a nightmare, more memories retouched, covered in a fresh coat of paint.
Waking up is but a brief source of comfort. One hand goes to your head, rubbing gently, as if you could wipe away all traces of your past. A quick glance around your shared room leaves you confused, but serves as a welcome distraction. Though there are six beds in the room, yours is the only occupied one, the others having all been vacated and made presentable. The only explanation that fit with what you knew was that everyone had gotten up, and gotten to work, without waking you. Panic filled you as you connected the dots, knowing that missing work was a death sentence.
Rushing, you rise to your feet, throwing your dresser open to search for fresh clothes. While the castle’s staff was almost entirely female, the Dimitrescu family didn’t enforce traditional gender presentation, allowing maidens to choose whether to wear a dress or a button-up and trousers. Remembering the wound on your neck, you pause, glancing in the dorm’s singular mirror to inspect your injury. Most of the blood had rubbed off in your sleep (and would likely be a nightmare to clean from the sheets). There were, however, a few spots where dried blood mingled with the protective scab. Considering how late you already were, you didn’t believe you would have time to clean up.
As much as you hated the thought, the best you could do was go for a button-up, hoping the collar would hide the worst of your disastrous appearance. Your hair was another matter entirely, far messier than it normally was, and you struggled to brush/comb it enough to be mildly presentable. Good thing Daniela won’t see me today, you think, remembering her insistence on skipping today’s lesson.
Then you remember the rest of your conversation with her; the yelling, being dragged to your feet, and the pain in her eyes. For a moment you feel woozy, pausing in the middle of buttoning your shirt. Your eyes focus on a spot on the now-closed dresser… and suddenly you wish you had paid more attention when you first woke up. There’s a note stuck to the furniture, clearly addressed to you.
Heard you had some trouble yesterday. We’re just glad you’re alive! A certain someone has been a lot nicer since you started playing the piano, and we’re grateful. To show that, we decided to split your morning duties among ourselves, so you can sleep in. If you’re reading this, then it’s still before 4 AM. Feel free to just relax for a while, or even get some more sleep! We’ll be by to make sure you’re up eventually.
Sincerely,
Daphne, Rosalia, Ygritte, Alexandra, Juniper, and Riley
“I… have… freetime?” You mumbled, still a little drowsy, but now also shocked. This was a complete first for you. Maybe even a first among the servants! Sure, you had been given breaks before, but having a couple hours to do whatever you wanted? No one had ever pulled strings like this for you before. It made your chest feel warm, and you just about forgot the whole mess with Daniela. “I’ll have to find a way to pay them back, even if they think they’re paying me back.” With that said you relaxed a little, no longer rushing getting dressed, though still leaving your neck the way it was. You figured you’d stop by one of the maidens’ restrooms before you officially started your shift.
In the meantime, you knew exactly what you’d be using this time for: finding those damn piano books you had been promised!
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“Let’s see… dust, more dust, a dead spider, even more dust, and- oh shit, the spider is not dead,” you said, barely holding in a yelp as the arachnid scurries away from you. If you had known the attic would be so unclean, you might not have bothered to come up here. So far your targets had alluded you without giving so much as a hint towards their location. The library had seemed a likely location, but you had heard Daniela’s voice within, and anxiety had sent you dashing away. Up here, in an area clearly used for storage above all else, was the next best guess, as far as you were concerned. Still, you hadn’t seen anything worth your time yet.
Just insects, really. Not even terribly interesting ones. Well, there had been a shiny beetle of some sort, but it had crawled into a crack in the wall mere seconds after you saw it. Other than that, though, nothing but creepy crawlies. Creepy flyers?... Both, for sure. One fly in particular kept buzzing around you, weirdly interested in what you were doing.
Somehow you didn’t understand what that meant until a firm hand had wrapped itself around your neck. The grip was tight, putting more than enough pressure to make your vision blur. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, the culprit didn’t intend to just choke you out. Instead they lift you and toss you aside- casually, at that. You hit the wall with a terrible crashing sound, certain to leave bruises, and narrowly avoid toppling into a stack of heavy crates. So much for enjoying some free time, you think. Stunned for several seconds, you find yourself left helpless as your attacker approaches.
“You’re not allowed to be up here,” a voice snarled, familiar enough to leave you terrified. Of course you had to run into the most violent of the Dimitrescu sisters. “Looking for a way out, hmm? Or are you stupid enough to think we’d leave a weapon where a wretched thing like you could find it?” Cassandra asked, pausing only to send a swift kick your way. A grunt escapes you, leaves you coughing, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as hitting the wall. Despite wanting to curl up and give in, you tried to drag yourself to your feet. Surprisingly, Cassandra makes no move to stop you, perhaps enjoying the sight of you struggling.
“Lady… Daniela… gave me permission,” you said between painful breaths. By the time you’re back on your feet, the vampire before you is watching you with narrowed, albeit curious, eyes. Normally it would take a lot of courage to face her. But you’re exhausted, in pain, and you’ve taken nearly as much hurt from someone who called themselves your lover. It’s not brave to stare down Cassandra, it’s foolhardy. It’s idiotic, really, and yet you find yourself unable to care. “I’m just looking for a couple piano books I’ve been told about, so I can use them to help teach Lady Daniela.”
“Oh? You’re her instructor?” Cassandra asked, a strange smile overtaking her expression. Something in the atmosphere has shifted, dangerously, but you can’t figure out why. Clueless to your self-betrayal, you nod in response. Instantly Cassandra’s smile turns into an open-lipped snarl, and she reaches out to grab you by the shirt, this time slamming you into the wall with her own hands. “Then you’re the reason she kept me up yesterday, crying non stop! I’m going to rip you apart, you vermin.”
The look in her eyes is, most definitely, the scariest thing you had ever seen. It’s feral, inhuman, and unstoppably determined. But when tears fall from your eyes, it’s not because you know you’re about to die. No, it’s because the last thing you think you’ll ever hear is the news that your partner had been sobbing for hours… and that you were the reason why. Your heart aches, both physically and emotionally, as you brace yourself for the bloody end.
Instead, the grip on your clothes loosens. You don’t dare open your eyes to see why.
“What the fuck do you want, sis?” Cassandra asked, sounding like she had turned her head away from you. Before you know it you’ve been let go, and you slide to the ground, too surprised to hold yourself steady. When you look up, you see an irritated Bela pulling Cassandra away from you, whispering something you can’t quite hear. They argue for a minute, under their breath, keen on keeping you out of the loop. Eventually the younger of the two storms away, but not before making a dent in the wall with her fist.
“What a child,” Bela said, rolling her eyes at the display. Then she’s walking back towards you, extending a hand in an offer of assistance (one you gladly accept). “That girl has the foresight of a magic eight ball, I swear. If she had actually killed you… ugh, I can hardly stand to imagine how inconsolable Daniela would become. Then I’d have two insufferable sisters. Regardless, do tell me why you thought it would be a good idea to come up here unaccompanied? It is normally off limits for servants, after all.”
“I-I, well… I mean, firstly thank you for saving me, I had no idea-” Bela holds a finger up in a ‘shut up’ motion, then puts it away as soon as you pause- “right, you don’t care. Look, I was just trying to find the piano books that Lady Dimitrescu mentioned, but I’ve looked all over and I can’t find them, so I should really just go,” you explain, eager to get out of the attic. To your surprise, Bela gives you an odd look before turning away. Then she takes no more than five steps, shifts to the side, and opens an old cabinet. Inside you can see a dozen books of sheet music, notably from several different decades, all worn but still in decent condition. “How did-?... I thought I checked there.”
“Well, you must have been distracted. Nonetheless, you know where they are now, and you owe me twice over. With that in mind… come with me. We have things to discuss,” Bela commanded, walking away before you could protest. All you can do is grab the sheet music, tuck it under one arm, and follow her to who-knows-where.
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“I’ll have to have you make my tea more often,” Bela mused, letting the mug keep her hands warm. The two of you were sitting in some sort of study, a room that you had never been inside before. From what you could tell it belonged solely to the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. Inside were several shelves, each filled with well bookmarked collections, a desk next to a massive window, a couple simple chairs, and a few instrument cases. All in all it was an aesthetically pleasing room, organized but not exactly neat. You could certainly imagine Bela spending entire days in this chamber. “Now, why do you think I brought you here?” Her voice brings your focus back into the present moment, as well as sends a spike of anxiety through you.
“Based on what nearly got me killed earlier… Does it have to do with Daniela crying?” You asked, doing your best to indicate just how bad you felt about the subject. No matter how cruel she could be, you did honestly care about Daniela, and even wanted a real, healthy relationship with her. Desire, or willingness, wasn’t the root of the problem by any means. Something told you that Bela understood this, maybe even respected you for it.
“Guess there’s more in that pretty head of yours than air and symphonies, hmm?” Bela replied, laughing a little as she did. It was a far nicer sound than Cassandra’s maniacal giggling, for sure. “Now, I don’t know all the details about what happened- just that there was an argument, clearly a bad one, and Daniela barely made it through dinner before locking herself in her room. Luckily for you, our mother doesn’t seem to know about your little ‘fight’. She’s not sure what upset Dani, and I doubt my sister would tell her, so your secret is safe. Assuming that I blackmailed Cassandra well enough, that is. Anyway, I can’t help you, and by extension my sister, if I don’t know the full story. In case it wasn’t clear, that’s your cue to start talking.”
You’re surprised, admittedly, by a number of things. But Bela seems impatient, so you go over the details of the previous night with her, occasionally pausing to let her ask questions. The whole time her focus is on you, unwavering. There’s also a noticeable lack of judgement in her expression, even when you voice your regret about how you handled the situation, and what is there seems directed more towards Daniela than yourself. Once you finish, Bela releases a deep sigh. One of her hands goes to rub her forehead as if warding off a migraine.
“Well, I can’t say I’m terribly surprised, as much as I wish I could. Daniela’s always had her head in the clouds, and it’s left her tripping over her own feet more than once. Still, this is certainly one of her bigger messes…” Bela said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m going to have to talk to her about this, aren’t I? There’s no way she’s going to process this correctly on her own.” This time she seemed to be talking to herself, gaze locked on her tea as if it might suddenly offer to speak to Daniela in her place. When the tea stayed silent, understandably, she returned her focus to you. “You seemed upset, earlier, about this ridiculous situation. I am going to assume, from that, you are genuinely interested in my dear sister. Normally, this would be the part where I drain you of all blood, and possibly keep your skull as a memento... mori. Yours would look lovely on a window sill, I think.”
She pauses, head tilting a little to the side, clearly evaluating your artistic value.
“However, Daniela appears to care about you, far more than her usual fleeting infatuations. So, for now, I have decided not to eviscerate you, you’re welcome,” Bela cooed, teasingly, enjoying the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Still, you were glad that you would apparently be surviving the day. “So I’m going to give you some advice, which you will take, and you won’t even owe me anything extra for this. Daniela is in love with the mere concept of love- and she has been for as long as I can remember. Romance novels are practically the only books she reads. It’s… embarrassing, truly. More than that, I get the impression that she couldn’t even begin to describe what love actually feels like. She’s digested so much of that written drivel that it warped her senses. Of course, the, ahem, situation we find ourselves in, here at the castle, has undoubtedly added to this effect.
“To get to the point, Daniela’s terribly, hopelessly clueless when it comes to things like what she wants from you. And so I take it upon myself, as her older sibling, to ensure that you understand. Moreso, that you are not dissuaded. If this is an actual chance for her to experience real romance, then it could make her happier than I’ve ever seen her,” Bela explained. The look in her eyes was incredibly soft, to the point where it made you realize just how much this odd little family cared for each other. “Don’t give up, don’t let her occasional infuriating antics push you away. Given enough time… I think the two of you could, I suppose, compliment each other quite nicely. But if you break her heart? I will pull yours from your chest and eat it raw. Understood?” Gulping, you nodded quickly, ignoring the feeling of heat rushing to your cheeks. It was one thing for Bela to want her sister to be happy, but another thing entirely for her to acknowledge your “suitability” for the position. “Good. Now return to whatever it is you maidens normally do. I have a sister to talk sense into.”
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Hours later, you stand alone in a display room, dusting various relics from bygone times. A trophy here, a bizarre art piece there, strange, unlabeled tools you can’t quite imagine are for wine-making. It’s a fascinating collection, really. But your mind is focused on other, far softer things. All you can think about is what Bela had told you, about how Daniela really is interested in you, and how she thought the two of you could make it work. After the chaos earlier in the day, this was exactly what you needed. Just some time to yourself, working quietly, thoughts all to yourself. Even your bruises bother you less, the pain fading out into the background. Considering where you are, though, it is not at all surprising that your peace cannot last. As soon as you finish your task you move towards the exit.
The door swings open, outwards, at your touch, only to reveal a familiar figure reaching for the doorknob. Both of you gasp, taken by surprise, before your gazes meet. Of course it’s Daniela. Who else would you bump into right now?
“I thought about what you said,” she blurts, suddenly, eyes wide and hands shaking. “We need to talk, yeah?”
#daniela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu x reader#resident evil: village#re8 village#cliff hanger oops#had fun writing this one
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11/13/22
In bed before 3:30?! Gonna need it. I swear to god, on those "I can't sleep until it's light out" nights, I get like... one hour of daylight after I wake up. It's just miserable. This time change really fucks nocturnal PTSD folk like myself.
I slept pretty poorly last night, I've been nodding off since like midnight, but Max's hyperthyroid meds need to be done every 12 hours and I've been doing them at the 2's(ish). So here I am, tryin to reset my sleep schedule a bit.
There's a homemade candle place in town my mom and I are hoping to go to tomorrow to see if they have any raw beeswax I could get for sealing wooden beads. Today, I sanded down a big piece of layered greenstone/quartz into a sorta soapdish so I could use it as a mortar. I scraped off some incense resin and ground it up into a fine dust, and mixed it with the wax/honey/propolis stuff. Unfortunately, that stuff is more like a petroleum jelly consistency than wax, so it was pretty hard to mix properly. I imagine heating up wax to a liquid state and mixing in powders is much easier than trying to grind it into a gel with a rock. But it worked. Another unfortunately, the wax gel stuff has its own scent, which is pretty strong, so it kinda competes with the incense smell a bit. It's not bad, but it's not ideal. So hopefully I can get my hands on some good wax to play around with.
I tried the wax gel mix on a new handcarved bead, it definitely took a darker stain and the darkest of it went into cracks in the wood, accenting the grain, which was a nice touch. But I'm not sure it's really penetrating the wood the way a legit heated wax would, I'm afraid it's kinda just sitting on the surface. I made a few more blanks too. I broke out the old box fan grindwheel thing I jury-rigged a while back. I can speed up the grinding process pretty quick with it, but... I really just wish I had a lathe. I'm doing it all backwards. If the bead itself is stationary and spinning rather than the sandpaper, then I can get much cleaner symmetry. Right now, I'm really shaping it blind and praying I get it right, and it's not really necessary. I decided to take a tip from the internet and grab an old allen key I'm not using that fits into my portable rotary tool and sawed off the L section of it, just making it a straight shaft. Unfortunately, the bit is just... too small. The bead blanks just fly right off the end of it when I try to shape with it. :( So... might be looking into some kind of lathe or something? Something quiet, maybe even manual.
While my rotary was charging for that whole trial-and-error adventure, I went to the bathtub and sanded a bunch of softer stones with pretty cool color pattern in them into what will hopefully be beads. For like... and hour and a half. And my fingers are damn sore after that. I figured with softer stone, I can probably just use my portable dremel to drill a hole through. It's just gonna be tricky using a vice on something as small as like the tip of my pinkie finger.
So yeah, today was a lot of trial and error in using found materials to try and build up a stock of kinda... filler materials? Like... not centerpieces for jewelry, but accompanying beads, accents and such. Or centerpieces for simpler pieces. Figuring out a process is exciting but it can get a bit frustrating and it can really feel... unproductive. Because I have no idea if this process is even going to stick. But that's just how it goes, you have to try things to find out if it works for you or if it's not your thing. I think the wood beads are much easier to make than I thought and I can do those pretty easily anywhere. Stone might be trickier without making a ton of noise. Unless I take the tumbler route. But I'm really not sure how that's going to go over if I have neighbors... and I still would have to drill the holes. I don't know how I can make that not loud.
I have to go up to meet with my new landlord (at least someone who works at the building) next week. I'm a bit concerned because I'm not really sure how I'm going to work around Max getting her meds. If I give her the 2PM meds... then I drive up immediately... I'm getting up to the new city around 4:30ish. I guess that's not too bad, but it's the earliest I can get there, and I'm going to have to head back later that night too. So I might as well take a load of stuff with me when I go, I guess? I'll have to brainstorm that tomorrow. The move is starting to get real. It's 1/4 exciting, 1/2 scary and 1/4 no feelings because I'm not really processing it fully. Could be worse!
I played drums again today because skating didn't work out. I didn't record, but I did jam out and it was pretty damn good today. I remember very clearly one sorta hip-hop beat that I was absolutely killing it on. It's such a cool feeling when you really get in the groove and are just locked in. I've never felt that with actual people while on drums, but I imagine it's pretty crazy. I just wanted to share that moment because it was really a highlight of my day.
My Rimworld colony is heading into their second winter and we rescued in a 4 year old boy and 7 year old girl, both orphans. It's... odd... having children around a grim survival situation, but they're doing great and the growth and learning system in the new DLC looks very interesting. I'm curious to see how things turn out. The colony is very stable right now, we even have a solar grid, batteries and a heated greenhouse so that (hopefully) food can be grown even when it's -30F out, cutting down that dreadful reliance on hunting in the winter, which can be pretty rough. We have a good stockpile of food, a reliable power supply that's not dependent on fuel, tons of hay for the yaks (plural, and Savannah, the original yak, has a mate and a child now) and the cows (I think we have 3 or 4 now). This colony has had a lot of twists and turns, it never goes how you plan. The new DLC is pretty cool I guess, it's just kinda weird when you think you're fighting a dude and then suddenly he just starts breathing fire at you and you're just like... "what the fuck are you, dude!"
Time to catch up on sleep. Fingers crossed for a sunny day tomorrow, I'd love to get the board out a few more times before the snow hits! Then out comes the snowskate!
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Henlo Liho-san~! A new follower of yours uwu May I ask for hcs of how the dorm leaders would react with having an f!s/o who is mostly respectful and polite, suddenly about to throw hands with someone as they may or may not have said or complained about the dorm head they were dating. It was not a compliment in any way or form- I hope I didn't cross over any rules! But if I had to pick 5 out of 7 of them, it's Riddle, Azul, Idia, Kalim, and Vil. Thanks a bunch if you notice this~! Good Luck!!♡♡
Hey yo Nocturne! I know of you from liking I and Brew’s OC (twisted-whimsies): Mozerella Trein and a couple TW related posts of mine.
Prefects and Vice Prefects are exception from character limit.
After finishing this, I realized I wrote something between a ficlet and headcanon. I hope you’ll like it though 💕
My German knowledge is bugging me to write Vil’s surname with ö instead of o yet my order-loving side is telling me to stick to how it’s written in TW
Before I start I’m gonna add a quote from a fandom of mine 👀 one look at my OG blog would reveal which fandom it is.
“Fallaces sunt rerum species”
Meaning: The appearances of things are deceptive
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Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle can handle himself. At least he could before his overblot episode. No body dared to talk behind his back.
But now he holds back, not using his unique magic frequently anymore which caused some students think he became too lenient and a couple students started to abuse this leniency
Every time someone tries his patience he counts to 10 internally or just ignore them. Don’t get him wrong, he still sticks to rules and makes his dorm follow the rules but he cannot force people to stop talking about him
Today is going to one of the days when he would ignore any bad mouthing because he is with (Y/N), the sweetest person he ever met
(Y/N) already saw at his worst when he overblotted. He doesn’t want her to see any more incidents such that.
He and (Y/N) decided to take a walk in Rose Gardens as a date. Then decided to get into Rose Maze, holding hands strictly for to not get lost.
“Prefect Rosehearts became such a softie. He is no longer fit to be our prefect.” “He never was. Mommy Issues needs to go back to kindergarten.”
(Y/N) and Riddle were in East side of Rose Maze when they heard 2 Heartslabyl students talking which made (Y/N) stop in her track. Riddle tugged her hand to move on but she didn’t budge.
“Riddle, honey, either push away those bushes or I’ll climb over it and have a nice chat with them.”
“There is no need.” — “okay then I’m climbing”
And she did. Riddle didn’t know how but she managed to go to other side of bushes by climbing to them.
“Hey jackasses! Would you like to say that again?” The two students were shocked to see Riddle’s girlfriend jump from above. “Wh- what?”
“I asked if you wanted to say those to my face.” And no answer.
Meanwhile Riddle was on the other side of bush walls, listening what’s happening.
“Did Riddle or did he not manage to increase Heartslabyl’s average grade?” “He did...” “Did he or did he not helped your dorm to have better ranking at Magift?” “He did...” “Did he treat you unfair ever since he fixed how he acted?” “No...” “Then what makes you say he is unfit? Is it because he is more tolerant on rules? Is it because he cares how his dorm mates feel?” No answer again. “I hope you come to your senses now because next time I hear something like this will be the first and last time you taste my wrath. Are we clear?” — “Yes ma’am!”
(Y/N) climbed over the bush again and landed in front of Riddle. With a kiss to his cheek, “Just because you give less punishment doesn’t mean you need to let people bully you. If anyone else acts this way, I’ll have a talk with them.”
She held his hand and pulled him into the maze again. Meanwhile Riddle was still wondering how his girlfriend climbed over a maze’s wall.
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona is used to people bad mouthing about him back in his palace. While in Savanaclaw, his dorm mates respected him and didn’t dare to oppose him. That is until they saw his vulnerable side during his overblot accident.
He heard a couple dorm mates say “He can’t do anything by himself.” “Good for nothing.” “All that lazy lion does is sleep.” “He must have lack brains to repeat the same year over and over again.”
He is used to ignoring them and sleeping it off. And his favorite pillow, (Y/N), helped him to dismiss their thoughts.
Leona only asked (Y/N) out because he figured she would be great body pillow. Certainly not her lively and cheerful attitude, nor her bright smile.
Leona asked (Y/N) out for a night date in Savanaclaw. It’s because he wanted to nap in his dorm. It’s absolutely not that Savanaclaw lounge looks romantic at night.
When (Y/N) arrived, she unfortunately heard those.
Leona tugged her arm to lead her to where their date suppose to take but no avail.
“Hold my purse, kitten.” (Y/N) handed her purse to Leona and went where those dorm members stand.
“Hey there is something in your face!” The main jerk looked up “Huh?” Proceeded with a punch to his face. “It was PAIN!” And ended with the guy falling to ground, holding his nose.
“Does anyone else have something on their faces?” The remaining ones shook their head in NO. “Good.” She turned on her heels and went to Leona’s side.
All Leona could do was admire her right hook. He did not think how she wouldn’t feel out of blue in Afterglow Savannah if she were to live there because women in his hometown are strong and fighters.
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Azul Ashengrotto
(Y/N) first caught Azul’s eye when she sat down for 7 hours to read every single detail in his contract and demanded a change in certain conditions. Azul refused to make contract with her then offered her a job in Mostro Lounge.
With persuasion from the twins, Azul gathered courage to ask (Y/N) out. And she accepted.
They often stayed late hours in Mostro Lounge to spend some alone time.
After their quick date followed by closing of Mostro Lounge, Azul walked arm in arm with (Y/N) until the mirror passage. As they were walking, 2 Octavinelle student were messing around.
“Look at me! I’m the crybaby who hides behind two eels!” — “No one is making contract, I’mma cry now!” — “Maybe I can turn my crying into money. I can sell all the ink I cry!” “Nice one dude!”
One look to Azul’s face, (Y/N) understood he would deal with them either personally or the twins would play with them.
Not today Satan!
(Y/N) let Azul’s arm go and slowly approached the duo. “I am (Y/N), you can’t insult my boyfriend like that; prepare to die... socially I mean...” — “What are you saying?”
“I don’t have patience, time nor crayons to explain this to you but I’ll let you on a secret. Sometimes a nasty rumor, which doesn’t have to be true, can ruin someone’s entire school life. Maybe telling everyone your secret wish that you once asked from Azul or you offering a different type of payment to teachers to pass the grade.” — “You can’t do that!” — “I can and I will unless you cut the crap, ask for forgiveness and work for free in Mostro Louge for a week.” — “It’s a deal!”
Azul came to (Y/N)’s side as the two boys run away. Azul once again saw his angelfish using her wits to get what she wants. He knows she didn’t need to do that but he is flattered by the fact that his girlfriend wants to protect him.
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Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim asked (Y/N) out after spending time together after Jamil overblotted.
He is still the sunshine bean that brings smile to everyone’s faces. (Y/N) is as cheerful as Kalim and that’s why he hit it off
Kalim took (Y/N) to another carpet ride as a date. She loves the feeling of wind on her face on top clouds.
As they returned to the dorm, they heard a couple students talking.
“I don’t care what Jamil did. He was right! Kalim is unfit to represent us. After he became prefect, we became the last at everything.” — “How many Kalim can change a light bulb? None because he is too idiot and too incapable to change one. Hehehehe”
(Y/N) saw tears building up on Kalim’s eyes then she snapped. She made carpet to fly over them in law altitude then she jumped down in front of them. “Surprise motherfuckers!” Before anyone can understand what happened. (Y/N) kicked the one that made bulb joke between his legs then held and twist the ear of the other two. “You have 10 seconds to reconsider what you just talked. I suggest not to waste time.”
The trio tried to dismissed what they said but the glare they received made them comply. “Prefect Kalim, we are sorry to make fun of you.”
Kalim as the personification of sunbeams forgave them. Then turned his attention to his beloved. He was impressed by how she jumped down and was ready to protect him without any hesitation. He never thought someone as kind and happy person as her could hide a fighter in her. Not going to lie, he loves seeing this side of hers
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Vil Schönheit
Being with Vil is exhausting. Don’t get her wrong, it’s not him (Y/N) is complaining. It’s the people around them.
(Y/N) started paying more attention to her appearance
(Y/N) was waiting for Vil to get ready, sitting on his bed. Vil had free time that day and they were going out.
As they went out of the room, whispering ensued as always but this time, for the first time, a Pomefiore student bad mouthed about Vil.
“He is compensating his wretched personality with his looks!”
Vil isn’t someone to care opinions of a no-mark but (Y/N) is
“Hold my earrings, my love.” (Y/N) took out her earrings and handed them to Vil. “I’m going to snatch his wig!” — “He’s not wearing a wig...”
“I take it you weren’t burned with overabundance of schooling. You think you’re a Gucci but you’re not even Lacoste. Now apologize before I think your face needs a makeover.” — “Gucci? Lacoste?” — “And I suggest hide your jealousy better. You can’t get near Vil as a fan and you try to make up for it by talking about something that you have no idea on. Honestly I am jealous of people who haven’t met you.”
(Y/N) waves back the boy, going back to Vil’s side then putting her earrings again.
Vil is quite pleased what has occurred. Not only he saw how (Y/N) can destroy someone with just words but he also saw a glimpse of what she thinks of him. Maybe he should hire some people to insult him so he can see this side of hers again.
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Idia Shroud
Idia tries everything he can to stay in his room but there is an anime con that he and (Y/N) are going so he needs to get out of his room.
Idia and (Y/N) dressed up as his favorite anime couple.
Idia left his room voluntarily without any compulsory reason! It became a quick hit topic in Ignihyde.
Idia and (Y/N) went to anime-con and Ortho tagged along to record the ordeal.
They had to return early because some drunk in the con spilt juice on (Y/N).
So they returned NRC then Ignihyde. Ortho left for somewhere as Idia and (Y/N) walked in Ignihyde lounge.
“He doesn’t even go Dorm meeting but doesn’t have a problem with going a stupid con! Idia is an embarrassment to Ignihyde! All he does is play games and ramble about them!”
(Y/N) coughed gathering attention from the group.
Idia freaked out by being in highlight, hand pulled his chest, eyes widened.
“Baby, get behind me.” (Y/N) stepped in front of Idia and strutted to the Ignihyde student that was shit talking. “Pick a God and pray.”
The boy gulped. “Wh-What?!”
“Did I stutter?”
“I don’t know what—“ He threw his hands to air in frustration. (Y/N) grabbed his wrist, twisting and pulling his arm. The momentum caused the boy to fell face forward. (Y/N) still holding his arm twisted, “Now, dear, you’ll apologize and promise that you’ll never speak of Idia that way. Then get out of my face or else..” — “Yes ma’am!” The boy did as he was told.
Idia couldn’t guess in a million years that his goody two shoes girlfriend was capable of pulling this stunt. What he saw right now made him think the fighter beautiful ladies in anime. It was like a dream come true for him.
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Malleus Draconia
People feared Malleus for a really long time that he couldn’t remember anything else.
People avoided and tend to talk behind his back yet those didn’t reach insult level.
Who was stupid enough to dare that?
Malleus asked (Y/N) if she wanted to explore Diasomnia dorm and hear about the gargoyles of Diasomnia.
Of course she would love it. She loves when Malleus goes on about gargoyles for hours. And she is the only member in his club. Plus nightly strolls are their dates.
“He has no friends and no body loves him. For goodness’ sake, his intimating aura makes rest of dorm unapproachable! Can’t he just be gone already!?”
No genius is needed to know who that Diasomnia student was talking about.
Malleus’ mood turned sour immediately. He could curse that boy but this would only prove those wretched rumors.
(Y/N) finds Malleus’ sulking face extremely attractive (he is too attractive to be real) but no one has any right to upset her beloved.
“I’m about to end this man’s whole career.”
“Dear, wait me here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Off (Y/N) went to defend Malleus’ honor.
“Hi there! Couldn’t help but hear you. Have you ever thought you have no friends because you’re an ass?” — “Who do you think you are? Oh it’s you.” — “It’s me Mario!” — “Huh???”
“Now now, let’s talk shall we? All you do is complain yet you don’t do anything to improve anything. You hold others accountable when you fail while there is no one but you to blame. You’re so wrapped in your tiny bubble that you can’t see outside world. That’s what small minded people do. Whoever told you to be yourself simply couldn’t give you any worse advice.” The guy was left speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. “Close your mouth or else you might swallow a fly.”
(Y/N) went back to Malleus side, winking at him. His heart skipped a beat, thinking this was such a queen act. Defending her beloved with her words. To be fair, Malleus finds everything (Y/N) does a fitting trait for a queen, the way she rambles, snorts, breaths, smiles...
Malleus only wishes he met (Y/N) ages ago.
#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#vil schoenheit#idia shroud#malleus draconia#savanaclaw#octavinelle#scarabia#pomefiore#ignihyde#diasomnia#prefect#female reader#headcanons#heartslabyul
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ahhh dunk here we go again, ,,,,, poor lizard hours,,,, payyy attention to the tags/notes for cws
The Beast In On His Chain (chapter 2)
[ch 1] [ao3] [ch 3] [???]
Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast
Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla
Characters: Sir Damien, Lord Arum, Rilla, Sir Absolon
Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, prisoner/guard dynamic, Dehumanization, (which feels like a weird word to use for a nonhuman person bUT. it’s what i got.), Despair, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (EVENTUALLY!!!! it’ll take a while), Captivity, Suicidal Thoughts, (that will be a theme throughout. inescapable in this particular fic. alas.), Eventual Romance, (Yes the dynamics in this one are fucked. honestly i’m kinda Stretching my limits these days.), (having fun with it. fucking around. it’s fine.), Recovery, (eventually), Self-Reclamation
Chapter Summary: Damien learns more about one of the trophies he is assigned to guard.
Chapter Notes: mmmm continuing warnings for captivity, dehumanization, basically kinda torture, malnutrition, isolation, nightmares, inaccurate pronoun use unrelated to gender, canon-typical and canon-extrapolated monster treatment. let me know if i missed anything PLEASE. I'm awful at suspense so i'll say up front (if the angst-w/happy-ending tag didn't give it away) that this will become a recovery story, eventually, and i am pretty goddamn eager to get there. Also, side note, Damien's inaccurate-pronoun-use should NOT be read in any way as my own position on folks using it/its pronouns. Y'all kick ass. Damien himself just doesn't have a context for it/its besides the inanimate and the inhuman, unfortunately. He hasn't met the Keep yet, lol
~
The boredom is an issue, about as soon as Sir Damien expects.
Marching in the same exact circle, surrounded by the same exact trophies, hours and hours in the gloom by torchlight...
Damien thinks of Sir Angelo riding off north, valiant and grinning and promising gleefully to break their tie while he travels, laughing off Damien's somewhat blustering protests to the contrary.
The twin-faced head by the swamp lord's plinth whispers if it cannot prove itself, what is it even good for? and Damien pretends not to flinch.
The swamp lord himself seems to be sleeping again. Sleeping most of the time, in fact, so far as Damien can tell. He would wonder if the creature is simply nocturnal (Damien has not yet been assigned any overnight shifts), but- how would the thing even tell when it was night, down here? Not a flicker of sunlight pierces this deep. There aren't any timepieces, either. Damien himself loses track- the next shift arriving at their posts is the only way Damien knows that enough time has passed to end his own shift.
"Who feeds that creature?" Damien asks the knights at the entryway, curiosity taking command of his tongue. "The swamp lord, I mean."
The pair of them meet eyes, and then one of them shrugs. "No one does."
At the obvious confusion on Damien's face, the other wrinkles his nose. "It's a familiar, Sir Damien," he explains. "The familiar of the swamp. It's made of magic. It could eat, it can, but it doesn't need food or drink to survive. Not really."
So. Why would they bother? It makes... enough sense, an efficiency that Damien acknowledges, though the idea of it- it is difficult not to think it as starving a prisoner, even if that isn't the case in truth.
The question floats through his mind, later that night as he rolls over on his cot in the barracks, and Damien stares hard at the stone wall beside his bed for at least a quarter hour as he tries to make the question go away.
How, exactly, the did lizard's captors first discover what he did and did not need, to survive?
~
He brings his poetry drafts with him for his next few shifts. His notes are bound only loosely, easy to rearrange when he makes connections between two pieces, or when he needs to add more sheets as one of his ideas expands, or if he wishes to look at two budding poems side-by-side.
Obviously he can't walk around his patrol effectively with his notes and a quill and an inkwell - for a moment he envies the swamp lord's extra limbs - so he borrows one of Rilla's clever, narrow, wrapped charcoals. They're better for sketching than for script, but Damien has gotten used to the way they write by now and he doesn't particularly mind the thickness of the lines. Rilla even seems pleased that he isn't complaining quite so much about the inertia of the assignment, so long as he can stretch his mind with other tasks.
He finds himself speaking aloud as he composes, after a little while. It is an old habit, and besides- the creaky, chittery noises of the room are somewhat distracting, and he finds that if he keeps his focus more firmly on the poetry, the twin-faced head in particular is far less likely to try to get under his skin.
At times the poetry shifts, dissolves somewhat, and Damien realizes belatedly that he has fallen into prayer rather than poetics. The line between the two is rather thin, on occasion. A decent number of his poems come in the form of entreaties to his saint, anyway.
Perhaps he requires the prayers, here. This place seems to unsettle his Tranquility. It turns his stomach, if he thinks about his surroundings too deeply. He almost wishes that he requested the dungeons, instead. Speaking to Saint Damien helps, as it always does, although-
The feeling, the sensation of his saint within his chest, that slow pulsing wave of cool affection and protection- it feels strange here, as well. Less certain. Damien suspects that it is the melange of fragmented magic that surrounds him, causing the disruption, but he is unsure. He prays all the more fervently in response.
He does not notice the attention of one of the trophies upon him as he speaks, not until he hears the creature growling in its corner again on the fourth day after he began bringing his drafts along.
Damien blinks as the words die on his tongue, his gaze fixing on the incongruous vivid purple glaring out from the storm-gray monster crouching on his little platform.
His first instinct, oddly, is to feel embarrassed. Which is foolish in the extreme. He clutches his papers close against his stomach, careful not to drag the charcoal over the page as he does, and the monster growls all the louder as Damien meets its eyes.
The creature bares its teeth, when it sees that it has his attention, and then it rolls itself slowly to stand, taller than Damien expected even with his horns shorn down, the entire weight of its body pressed against the chain at its neck and the ones on its wrists. It uses its own weight to help keep it upright, Damien realizes, hanging forward against the chains pulling it back.
And then it- it opens its mouth, and coughs harshly, and then-
He speaks.
"Do you," the monster grates, face screwed up with effort, a hand curling against his collar, "ever... shut... up?"
Damien- Damien stares, lifting one hand to cover his mouth and watching the creature glare at him, panting with a vicious sort of effort.
"You..." Damien swallows. "You can speak," he says, the emptiness of his tone turning the question into a statement, and the monster bares his teeth again, snapping them together and growling as he turns his head away. "This whole time? You could speak this whole time, you could understand me, and-"
"Is this the newest torture your queen has devised?" he snarls, and then he whines, closing his eyes and digging his claws into the collar again, tugging uselessly at the metal as if trying to pull it away from the scales of his neck. "Deprived- deprived even of- of silence, deprived of my own thoughts, tormented by your- your relentless chattering for days on end-"
The creature's voice gives out, his throat moving for another moment as he cringes, stuttering into a painful sounding round of coughs.
"Oh Saints," Damien hears himself say, faintly. Too startled for any proper response, yes, but also-
Deprived of-
Silence, freedom. Food. Water. Deprived, apparently, of his own voice. Deprived of words, and Damien can tell from the coughing and the choking, forced tone in his voice. He can tell, from the way Damien can feel a pulse of strange energy from the monster's heavy collar with every word, and from the way the monster seems to respond to that energy with visible pain.
"I have endured much," the monster spits, his body swinging fractionally forward as his expression twists in fury, the collar at the taut end of its chains pressing deeper indentations into the scales of the monster's throat. "I will endure- endure more, certainly. But if you c-cannot find a way to hold your tongue, then I will find a way to pluck it from your head."
Damien only stares, too stunned to truly comprehend what is being said to him for a long moment, and then-
The absurdity of this creature, cowed and collared, attempting to threaten him- it strikes him as strangely humorous, suddenly and perhaps somewhat grimly. He feels his face twitch, a half-breath of almost-laughter slipping from his lips, and the monster only contorts the expression on his snouted face even further, looking more alive than he has for the entirety of Damien's post here.
"I... will... kill you, little knight," the monster says, visibly struggling to force out the words, his vivid violet eyes locked on Damien's with obvious hatred. "Someday the cage will crack, someday the guard will be sloppy, someday I will again curl my tongue around a shred of magic and then-"
The monster spasms, the collar apparently paying him back for speaking so long against it, and the creature collapses back onto his little plinth with a pained exhale, and Damien-
Damien holds his breath for a moment, shocked by the sharp, strings-cut drop of the creature. He can't help the way his eyes widen in alarm, uncertain whether or not the monster has just injured himself on Damien's watch or- or worse, perhaps, but- no. No, he seems to be- he's still breathing, at least, and there doesn't seem to be any blood around the collar, at least, so.
Not that Damien is- concerned, exactly, but- he is meant to guard these... trophies. That certainly includes keeping them from harm- from damage, at the very least.
(and he knows, of course, that this beast in particular must not be allowed to die)
"You'll forgive me," Damien says slowly, eventually, his tone blank and oddly dry, "if I am not quite terrified of such threats from a creature in your position."
The monster sort of... curls in on himself, two arms around his head and two clutching at his stomach, his tail wrapping up into an almost catlike circle, hissing ineffectually through his teeth, but he does not try to speak again.
"Though..." Damien pauses, paces a few steps, and watches the poison-bright gleam of one of the monster's eyes follow him as he goes, glaring out from between his arms. "I certainly will know to mind my tongue a bit better, here, in the future. For my own sake, you understand, and not yours. Of course, I should not care if you find my prattling an annoyance. You are a prisoner, after all."
The creature glares at him, and even with his face still mostly hidden behind his arms, there is enough venom in his eyes that Damien has to force himself not to take a step back in response. He still remains silent, though. Aside from the pained panting.
No reason whatsoever to feel threatened, Damien muses. Despite the overt threats.
Damien opens his mouth, as if to say-
He does not know.
It seems pointless at best to mock the creature, needlessly cruel at worst. What good would it do? He presses his lips closed after a moment, then reshuffles the pages of his drafts in his hands. He pulls his gaze away from the monster, and he continues his patrol.
~
In silence, this time.Damien dreams the weight of cold iron around his own throat. Dreams a prayer trapped in his lungs, begging for deliverance, begging for voice and sky and any gentle touch. Cold fire curls beneath his jaw, scorching away his words before they can bloom from his lips, the pain sharp enough to pull tears from his eyes, streaming hot down his cheeks.
Across the room, lazing on an identical plinth, the monster watches him wail soundlessly, his violet eyes the only points of color in their grey prison, his own chains slack with hopelessness.
Another knight shoves Damien awake to stop him screaming. Damien can hardly hear the rest of the grumbling complaints from the other cots over the furious thudding of his heart. His throat hurts, ragged as if he were swallowing thorns.
His pillow is wet with tears as he tries to find sleep again. When he closes his eyes, he sees the monster staring back.
#elle's fanfic#second citadel#lizard kissin' tuesday#sir damien#lord arum#the beast in on his chain#argh. augh. hrrgh. this fic is gonna fuckin kill me
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Stranger to the Rescue III (Geralt x Reader)
Summary: Geralt finds you in the woods, wounded and close to death. He takes you somewhere so you can heal, but he figures out what you’re really trying to do
Warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughts/suicide, angst, blood, fluff, mentions of witcher trials, mentions of death, this looks like it’s turning into a series
Word Count: 2,196
Stranger to the Rescue Part 1 II Part 2 II Witcher Masterlist
Sometimes, meditating helps slow down your death from a wound for just a little bit until you can get back to Gorthur Gvaed. It would be a close call, but the important thing is that you get back to your home. There’s something in Gorthur Gvaed, something in the atmosphere that helps you to heal, and you joke to yourself that it might be the only magick you’re susceptible to.
But you’re too weak to meditate. The pain in your abdomen, the venom slowly seeping into your veins makes it almost hard to keep your eyes open. Luckily, being a Witcher means that your heartbeat is slow which means that you have more time on your hands before the venom reaches your heart and kills you.
Unfortunately, it’s been long enough for the venom to start making you hallucinate.
You had to stop riding for the night. Not because you know you don’t have any strength to fight off the nocturnal monsters that would surely come for you, but because you can’t keep yourself on top of your horse. You should use Igni to light a fire, but it just seems easier than searching for a flint and then try to light a fire that way. With Igni, there is a guaranteed outcome.
Kneeling on the ground close to the fire, you try to focus on meditating to slow down your heart to what it should be as a Witcher. Your heart has picked up pace and it’s not a good thing. But the pain in the wound on your stomach makes it hard to focus and ease your mind.
Your eyes flutter open as you fall forward. Catching yourself on an arm as you press a hand to your wound, you groan in pain and find that you’ve been panting. “(Y/n),” Geralt’s voice echoes around you like a breeze of wind, making your head snap up to find the Witcher you had come to know well, especially when you were at Gorthur Gvaed.
You see his figure stepping closer to you through hazy eyes. Trying to whisper his name, you end up whimpering in pain and fall to the ground onto your back. You feel something wet on your hand and you don’t have to check to see what it is.
Your wound is bleeding again and now it’s a case of whether you’ll bleed out or if the venom will get to your heart first.
But you can’t care. All you can think about is how you found that one monster that bested you.
Feeling something touch your face, your eyes snap open and you find yourself staring up at Geralt’s face. Another hallucination perhaps?
No. This is too real to be a hallucination.
“Geralt?” you weakly question, blinking so that your eyes can adjust and focus instead of making you see a blurred face.
A small relieved smile grows on his face, glad to see that you’re not dead as he feared you would be. “What the hell happened to you?” he questions, pushing the hair sticking to your sweaty face away as you shake your head.
Groaning as Geralt helps you sit up, you drop your gaze down to your abdomen and bite your lower lip. “Abandoned Cockatrice lair that wasn’t so abandoned,” you whisper, trying to laugh to lighten the mood but you end up coughing. And you can taste a hint of blood on your tongue. “And well, you know what happens when a Cockatrice gets a mouth full of flesh.”
Geralt’s head drops to your hand that presses against your stomach. Slowly removing your hand, you hiss at the cold touch of the breeze around you and whimper when he lifts the ragged pieces of your shirt. “Fuck,” he mutters, shifting a bit away from you to reach for your satchel a bit aways from you to check if you have any potions to help heal you or prolong your death until he can get you somewhere.
The first option would be to get you to Gorthur Gvaed, but that’s still a long way away from where you are right now. The closest place where he can take you that would allow him in without him having to fight would be Vizima.
He has to remind himself that magick won’t work on you to heal your wounds, so he pushes aside the thought of asking a sorceress for help.
You have one vial of the potion he’s looking for. It will be enough to get you somewhere safe.
Helping you sit up as he pulls the cork out with his teeth, he helps you drink the potion and notes of quickly your heart seems to be. It’s not a good sign. Groaning as he pulls the now-empty vial away from your lips, your head lulls to the side and you breathe out a heavy sigh. “Geralt,” you whisper.
He picks you up from the ground, an arm under your knees and one around your waist as he turns towards your horse. And you black out before you can ask him where he’s taking you.
You don’t remember most of your dreams when you sleep because you quickly push them aside when you wake. It’s better that way because you know that you won’t be upset about what you had dreamed of. But you know that dream you have now, you will never forget.
It’s a dream you have often. A dream of before you become the first and only female Witcher in existence. A dream, where you can hear your sisters screaming as they die during the final trial.
In the dream, you glance down at your hands to stare at the potion given to you by the mysterious wizard. He told you to drink it before doing the trial. And you know you’re the next one that will be taken by the Witchers in Gorthur Gvaed.
At the end of the trail, you’re in searing pain, screaming and crying, wishing it would just end. The male Witchers around you don’t do anything, except wait to see if they have succeeded, or if you will die like the other girls.
The dream ends with your eyes opening to reveal to the surrounding group of Witcher that they are the infamous gold color.
And that’s when you wake.
You glance around you with a deep frown on your face and think to yourself that you must still be dreaming. Because never have you been in any room as nice as this. Every room you’ve slept in has been a shabby room in some inn or on the floor in forests. This is the kind of room you’d be in if you were hired by someone with a title to get rid of a monster.
Pushing yourself to move a bit up and taking note about how soft the bed you’re lying on is, you jump when you feel a hand touch your shoulder and your head snaps to the side. “You need to stay lying down,” Geralt - who tries to get you to lie back down - says with a stern sound in his voice.
Doing as he says, you fall back down and glance around the room. “Where am I, Geralt?” you ask quietly, turning your head to him as he takes in a deep breath and looks around the room as he folds his hands in front of him.
“Vizima,” he simply mentions and turns his head back to you.
You sigh, throw your head against the pillow and shake your head. “I’m not exactly welcome in Vizima, you know.” Your words make him frown and you look back at him. Knowing that he means to ask you why, you chuckle and smile at him. “Same reason you’re not welcome in Blaviken.”
He understands that and he doesn’t have to ask anymore on that topic. He knows that you had to choose a side when a Witcher has to be neutral. You had to choose which is the lesser evil. That seems to be a common Witcher problem, Geralt thinks.
“You’ll be safe while you’re with me,” he states, making a small smile grow on your face before you give him a look that challenges him to tell you why that is. “I’ve built a few connections here.”
You chuckle at that and turn your head to look up at the ceiling. “Want to bet that your connections are the people I’ve pissed off?” you tease.
Smirking to yourself when you hear him sigh and catch him rolling his eyes, you slowly push yourself up and lean against the wall behind you. “I told you to stay laying down-”
“I’ll be fine-”
“You need to slow down, (Y/n),” he snaps, making you huff out and turn your head away from him like a stubborn child. “I know you’ve been hunting monster after monster without stopping to breathe or to heal. When was the last time you were at Gorthur Gvaed?” he questions but you don’t reply.
In truth, the last time you were home was when you were there with Geralt. And that was months ago. And when you don’t answer, Geralt understands what’s going on. He understands because he remembered what you had said to him.
“You’re looking for that monster that bests you. You’re on a suicide mission.”
“Shut up,” you bark, turning your head back to him and glaring coldly at him. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do,” you sneer at him and he narrows his eyes at you.
He stands, takes a step forward and holds his stare with you. “You’re a Witcher. You might be a woman, but you’re still a Witcher. You are like me. I know what goes on in your mind better than others even if you deny it,” he fights back and you try to keep your head tall even though he towers over you now.
You shake your head at him and fold your arms over your chest. Huffing again, you look to the side and bite your lip. “You are not like me. You have something I don’t have, something I will never have.”
“And what’s that?”
“A family. Friends. Connections that will help you,” you say, your head snapping back to him and narrowing your eyes at him. “I have none of that. I’m alone in this world and I have nothing,” you sadly say as you turn your gaze away from him once more.
Geralt stares down at you for a while before he sits down on the bed beside you. He reaches out to turn your head towards him again and keeps his hand cupping your cheek. “You have me,” he whispers, runs his thumb over your lower lip and pulls it out between your teeth when you try to bite it. “Stay with me.”
You softly shake your head. “Geralt, I-”
Before you can protest, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours and stops you from speaking. You reach up to touch the side of his face and pull him closer and deepen the kiss. He slowly breaks the kiss, stops it from going farther and rests his forehead against yours.
“You should rest, let your wound heal,” he suggests and you nod your head. “And I should make sure Jaskier’s not causing any trouble.”
“You still traveling with the bard?” you ask with a chuckle as he pulls away from, rolls his eyes at you before he laughs too.
“He’s the connection,” he mutters, making your smile drop and he chuckles at your expression.
As Geralt walks out the room, and closes the door behind him, he hopes that you’re still there when he comes back. He’s gotten used to you running off after every encounter he has with you. He’s used to you leaving before anything else can happen. Except for the time when he met up with you at Gorthur Gvaed.
That was when he got to know you more, when he learned what made you want to be alone for so long. That’s when he learned that you’re more like him than you think you are.
And when he does come back, he finds you exactly where he left you. You’ve gone back to sleep, a hand gently resting over your abdomen and a peaceful look on your face. You always seem to have a deep, brooding look on your face but he’s been told that he has the same kind of expression.
But he can’t help smiling as he stares at you and sits back in his seat, folds his hands in front of him and leans slightly forward. He thinks about - if you stay with him - all the things he could do with you.
Ciri would love you, that he can already see. He knows that she will love to learn how to be a Witcher from a female. Ciri would want to learn from someone she can look up to as well. Someone who would know how to speak to another female.
And he thinks that you need someone to. Someone besides him. Something like what he has.
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Pure Witch
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: While waiting for Rowena to help with a case, Dean distracts himself with the reader. Suddenly, the bar is under attack and you are the one who saves the Winchester brothers with magic. Dean didn't know you were witch-- but neither did you.
Warning: unprotected sex (y'all are better than that)
‘’Dean, can you focus for a bit, please?’’ Sam sighed, not for all surprised at his brother’s behavior but surely tired enough to cut him off. He had spent most nocturnal hours searching for a specific spell to save a victim from a herb coma after they didn’t find a hex bag that had probably been hidden by a sorceress. He’d finally given in and called the most powerful - perhaps more notably the only allied - witch they knew. Waiting for Rowena with less than two hours of rest while Dean ate hamburgers in heart attack form wasn’t comfortable. The fact that he was about to get up and flirt with a random woman when he was trying to be patient at her delay and not to freak out because of it was unlikely to help either.
‘’Come on, Sammy. What’s the point of saving people if you don’t get a little nookie once in a while?’’ He winked at the other Winchester just to be greeted with an eye roll. ‘’Also, Rowena is two hours late.’’
‘’Dean-- Dude, come on!’’ Sam protested when his older brother left the table, rubbing his hands on his jeans as he walked towards you.
‘’Hey, sweetheart. Can I sit?’’ Dean smirked at you and you nodded, waving your hand at the empty chair. If it was any usual day, you would be most likely to push him away with a dumb excuse, especially after he came up with cheap sweet talk, but he was pretty enough to entertain you a bit more, not to mention his velvet voice. Besides, it wasn’t a usual day. You could use a human shaped source of stress relief in a random bar. ‘’I have to say, you are drinking my favorite beer.’’
‘’Then you can have it,” you said, pushing the bottle to slip on the table. Dean grabbed it. ��’Not really my kind. I like cocktail better.’’
‘’Cocktail over beer?’’ He arched his eyebrows, not so subtly judging your taste.
You put your hand on your chest, mouth wide open in a circular form while you talked in an offended yet playful manner: ‘’You come to my table and judge my favorite drink? Outrage! I am really hurt, you know? I might have to go lick my wounds now.’’
Dean features quickly changed from worried that he had somehow offended you and threw his chance with a hot girl away to amazed. Spicy girls, he liked that.
‘’Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. I could help you with your wounds.’’ He rolled his head to the side and licked his lips before taking a sip of his beer. You giggled, rolling your eyes at his cheap attempt of a flirtatious line.
‘’Well, since we are already talking about licking wounds, my name is (Y/N). And I think we can agree that a good, old whiskey is better than both of them.’’
‘’Dean Winchester, at your service.’’ The green-eyed man offered you a wide smile followed by a wink. ‘’Yeah, whiskey gets it all.’’
‘’After tequila, of course,” you teased, just to see which reaction you could get from him.
‘’Tequila is better than whiskey? You didn’t just say that.’’ Dean raised his eyebrows. It made you laugh at how indignant he seemed to feel about it. Head tilted to the side and gaze locked with your bright eyes, he remained on the topic. ’’It’s the same as saying that salad is better than burgers or that Bon Jovi is better than AC/DC.’’
I love what you’ve got
Let’s get together, baby
Yeah, we can get hot
The guitar echoes from the song trembled through the bar’s bathroom when Dean threw your back at the wall, pushing his knee between your legs as his lips met yours into a needy, violent kiss. A weak howl left your mouth once you felt his hardness tickling against your bare leg thanks to the little skirt that barely dressed you. It hiked up with the sudden movements, almost letting show what was underneath. Unfortunately, his jeans made it a bit frustrating. He was way too dressed than either of you would like. Both of you were.
Dean’s hands tightened around your waist in a possessive act; it was an unspoken desire to get more of you-- all of you right there.You pushed him away, devil grin on your lips as you watched his confused features replaced by feral, wild eyes when you unconfined yourself from your shirt. The pretty fabric of your green bra seemed to hold the green of his eyes to your breast, as if it was the only part of you that mattered.
The eldest Winchester denied his urge to ravish you just long enough to abandon his shirt as well as his flanel. In an instant, he was all over you again; licking your neck and going down to kiss your chest. You placed your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself steady. Your knees were too easily weakened at Dean Winchester’s touch to be considered trustworthy.
‘’Dean…’’ His name came out as a beg, a prayer for this man to give you what you needed. ‘’I want you inside me. Now. I’m so wet for you.”
‘’Fuck, sweetheart. You fucking get me when you talk like this.’’ He groaned in response, pecking your collarbone before he raised his head, locking his gaze with yours. His pupils were dilated, like a hunter’s glare when catching their prey. You could bet yours were awash in the same heat, full of lust and flaming hunger.
Opposed to losing any time, Dean put his hands on your back and lowered them while you unbuttoned his jeans, watching their particular path and enjoying how the naked parts of your body felt against his fingertips. He was certain that your pussy would feel just as good if he fucked you with his fingers, but he needed his cock inside you, and you felt such urgency for it, too. Perhaps later Dean could do all he wanted, in a bed or in the back seat of Baby. For the present time, the bedroom would be more than satisfying. He finally reached your ass, holding it as you gave into an impulse to jump.
You wrapped your legs around his waist as Dean pulled you up and pressed your body to the wall again as you finally finished unbuttoning his jeans, pushing the material down. Dean groaned in annoyance when he noticed that your skirt was lifted, but your panties were still on. You were visibly wet for his amusement, yet an obstacle to his need. Not willing to give away any further second, the hunter tore it apart.
‘’Hey, I liked that-- Dean!’’ Ultimately, your complaint was interrupted by Dean pushing into you. Fuck, it felt so good to have him inside you, his cock squeezed between your wet, tight walls. He held your thighs, mouth finding your breast in a kiss and then a bite. Dean pulled your bra, touching your erect nipple before pressing his tongue against it and sucking it. ‘’Dean!’’
His thrusts quickened in rhythm, and you tried to follow it, moving your waist to his pelvis. His cock pushed deeper and harder inside you, making you arch your back and groan when Dean found your G spot, repeatedly hitting there.
‘’Fuck, (Y/N). You feel so nice around my cock. Wet and tight, just like I like it. Your pussy is so good to me, sweetheart.’’
Your nails scratched his shoulders. You pulled him close, and Dean looked up at you, vivid green eyes reflecting what his body and groans already said; your body was his. At least it was for now. You didn’t care if your favorite lace was crumpled on the floor or if you were fucking an aleatory man without protection or even if you would leave marks on his back. All that you cared about was his cock deep inside you, fucking you, and it seemed like he felt just the same.
He leaned forward, catching your lips in a passionate kiss. His grip tightened around your skin as your mouth escaped his in tease, encountering Dean’s neck and sucking on it there. It won a soft grunt of him, almost a whine. You giggled between groans, soon sealing his lips to yours together once more. The two of you part only to moan each other’s name in intense pleasure as the pace of his thrusts hastened.
The bar’s rock playlist was replaced by rougher music: punching noises, chairs breaking and screams from the few people on the bar who quickly tried to hide or run. If an hour ago Sam cut a sharp glare at you and Dean walking to the bathroom, the last one was a victorious gesture at him while pointing at you. Currently, he was hopefully looking at the bathroom door stuck between killing a demon and fighting another when his brother finally appeared, followed closely by you. Both of you were disasters from wrinkled clothes to messy hair.
A ginger woman was hiding behind them and holding a book, flipping the pages fast as the boys furiously defended themselves from the things approaching them. ‘’Rowena!’’
‘’(Y/N), stay here!’’ he said in a commanding voice before running to Sam. They were fighting those human-looking creatures that shined when they got stabbed. It was clear that they weren’t normal and neither were their killers. You gulped, breathlessly watching the scene unfold in front of you. What could you do? You barely had any fighting skills other than self-defense. Besides, Dean and his partner seemed to know what they were doing. That is, if they were the good ones. What if you had just fucked an assassin?
‘’I’m trying, Samuel!’’ the redhead hissed, still skimming through the book’s writing. She appeared to be looking for something that she couldn’t find.
The things kept showing up and instead of just fighting, now one of them was able to throw things at Dean, Sam and Rowena. You were horrified. The new addition seemed to be a witch. But those weren’t real. Neither were things that died like there were storms inside them! What was happening?
The supposed witch gave the trio a bloody smile, taking calm steps to get to them. His hand gestured to the side, as if he was killing a mosquito, and Dean flew against the wall. Another move and Sam had the same destiny, seeming glued there next to his brother.
‘’Rowena, like the rat I knew you were. Looking for allies with the Winchesters? That is beyond humiliating, even for you,” the man talked sharply, disgust almost palpable in his tune. It was crystal clear that he thought he was better than the red-haired woman. Your blood fired up in your veins; you were scared and irate. The situation itself was similar to a horror movie’s scene, and the way he spoke towards her was just quite like a woman’s daily horror movie, especially when it came to the workplace. It hit a delicate spot for you. Dean and Sam tried to get away from whatever those things were with what you’d soon learn that was a spell that kept them stuck to the wall. ‘’You should thank me for being so merciful, rat.’’ He grabbed a strange knife and pulled his hand up, a malicious grin on his face as he pushed the lethal knife to Rowena.
Before he could finish his attempt, you screamed, ‘’NO! GET AWAY FROM HER!’’
The reflex on the blade twinkled, everyone’s attention on you. Dean was more nervous than before, Rowena was surprised, and the man looked like he had just heard a joke.
Glaring at you with a superior gaze, he moved his free hand. Instantly, you were slammed against the wall like the Winchesters. You hated it, feeling impotent. The fact that the man who put you through this state appeared to be unbothered himself with that only increased your anger, fear slowly sliding away to give room for your fury.
‘’The rat has a pet, too? How lovely. I might kill you first and then kill her with my knife stained with your blood. How does that sound to you, bitch?’’
‘’Leave her alone!’’ Dean shouted. His eyes never strayed, still connected with the vision of you.
‘’Standing up for the little rat and got a Winchester seal of worry? Forget about just killing you. It’s going to be a long torture. I’m going to make you my little pet before I kill you, bitch.’’
‘’Do you feel more like a man or whatever you are when you call me a bitch? Or when you call her a rat?’’ Your remark came angrily. Who did he think he was? You didn’t notice, but Rowena was searching for something in the book again. ‘’Your little ego gets rubbed when you do that? Maybe you get turned on? You are so fucking annoying, bitch.’’
‘’Respect me, whore.’’ Your throat started to close, the scarcity of air ravaging your lungs. ‘’I’m better than you and her. I’m more powerful than anyone in this room. You should be thankful that I’m directing words towards a little, arrogant slut like you. You fucking b--’’
His words filled all of your body with an intense savage rage. You didn’t think; you just wanted to make him quiet-- to bite back. Your eye color switched to a gloaming green, just like the smoke that filled the bar. An enormous noise was heard; the man had been thrown against the ceiling and then on the floor. His neck was noticeably broken, a pool of blood around his body. The earlier creatures ran away as Dean and Sam fell to the ground.
‘’What the fuck was that?’’ Dean asked, holding his gun up.
You didn’t look at them. You were shocked at yourself, glaring at your trembling hands. Their afterglow dissipated from white and green to the normal color. Your eyes had come back to normal as well, and the smoke was no longer around.
‘’Did I do that? He is dead. He is-- Oh my. What were those things? They weren’t human, right? And he wasn’t a human either? What happened to me? My hands, they--’’
Sam rested his hand on the barrel of Dean’s gun and tilted his hair sideways. You didn’t know what you had just done. You probably weren't aware of your nature. ‘’I’m Sam Winchester, Dean’s brother. She is Rowena, and I think you are like her. A, hm, witch. I guess you didn’t know that, yeah?’’
‘'I am what? No, that’s not possible. I don’t even know if I believe in God-- I’m probably an atheist,” you denied quickly, shaking your head side to side.
‘’Oh, darling. After all that you still believe that there is nothing else but humans?’’ Rowena grinned, empathic to your situation but mainly surprised by your ability.
‘’It’s certainly not the God I was taught to believe in!’’ Your face was pale and your damp eyebrows slightly raised together. ‘’I-- My. Are witches like, the higher power? Are you God?’’
‘’Well, I guess you could--’’
‘’Rowena, no.’’ Sam stopped her. He understood briefly what having a normal life and changing it abruptly to a supernatural one felt like. The way you were acting screamed nervousness. ‘’We were combating demons and a witch. I know that it is strange and surprising, but it’s real. Everything is real. Werewolves, vampires…'' He offered a gentle smile-- friendly, even. "Witches.’’
‘’God too, but He isn’t quite what we learn as kids. Neither are angels. Actually, most are assholes,” Dean tacked on, tucking his gun away under the hem of his shirt. He couldn't believe that he just had hot, sweaty sex with a witch. At least not even you knew that. You glanced at the three of them, completely disoriented.
‘’You are an Alstonia Sympathin. It is very rare. I myself thought your race was extinct,” Rowena said, gaining more confused glares from all of you. ‘’You know, how werewolves have a pureblood line? Well, she is like a pureblood witch.’’
Breathing deeply, you rubbed your throat in a futile attempt to calm yourself. ‘’What does it mean?’’
‘’You are one of the most powerful witches alive, darling.’’ She curved her lips in return, still holding the book to her chest as she answered, ‘’And you haven’t even started yet.’’
#dean winchester#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x reader fanfiction#dean winchester x reader fanfic#dean winchester x reader smut#dean winchester imagines#dean winchester headcanon#dean winchester headcanons#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x witch!reader#supernatural imagines#supernatural headcanons#supernatural headcanon#supernatural#supernatural reader insert#supernatural fanfic reader insert#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfic#spn fanfiction#spn reader insert#spn#spn imagine#sam winchester#rowena#dean winchester smut#requested#jensen ackles#spnfandom
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MORE DISCORD SERVER SENTENCE STARTERS
A collection of quotes from my Discord server with friends. Feel free to change pronouns/wording as desired. CONTENT WARNING(S) FOR: Suggestive, crude, gore, absolutely cursed. [ PART 1 ]
“ Can your father send us child support? Same answer. ”
“ NO GENDER, ONLY LEGION. ”
* Bed rocking, aggressive bike horn noises *
“ [NAME], you are a fucking blight upon my sanity. ”
“ Is being super gay an advanced war tactic? ”
“ Look you have to tell me if this slapping will bring about the eldritch truth, or it's enslapment. ”
“ Fucking, this is still on the most mundane side of your fetishes. ”
“ New law of science. If an autopsy turns into an orgy you did something wrong. ”
“ I AM NEMISIS, DESTROYER OF THE JACK-O-LANTERN. ”
“ If we have a quiz tomorrow, the questions will be: 1) how to burst a mosquito, 2) how to tear your gut, and 3) what will the aliens look like. ”
“ I'm cat girl adjacent. ”
“ Make sure to vaccinate your computer, [NAME]! ”
“ SNOW IS JUST WATER YOU CAN BEAT UP AND BULLY. ”
“ A zombie goth. A zoth. ”
“ Slaughter’s good. I like slaughter. ”
“ They know your sins. ”
“ Why so many loose beans? ”
“ I want him to try it, SPECIFICALLY for the cyberbullying. ”
“ Today I leave y’all an Immensely Cursed Artefact. ”
“ Not the knowledge I was expecting tonight, but glad to have learned it anyhow. ”
“ It’s, unfortunately, not the worst thing that’s been turned into smut fic. ”
“ Poor organless [NAME]. ”
“ Help, I'm only seeing glowing weakpoints on you... This isn’t sexy at all! ”
“ Whelp, time to make everyone MILFs and DILFs then! ”
“ Ok, nothing is getting ‘ misted ’ in horny jail. ”
“ YES, FEED THE TOAST TO [NAME]! ”
“ The only bones I have are teeth. I’m like a snail in that regard. ”
“ This is just SCP Containment Breach: Horny Edition. ”
“ And what's at the bottom of the stairs? Another baby gate. ”
“ That’s what I’m banking on. The arrogance. ”
“ How much XP fucking a demon gives you is important adventuring stuff? ”
“ This is honestly the weirdest form of lust I've ever felt from someone. ”
“ I am holding your face metaphorically when I say this for emphasis. ”
“ My rage runs cold. ” “ Yeah, so does your liver, and it fucking sucks. ”
“ We have many flavors. They are all red. ”
“ I still lose my shit over those gushers like... What kind of psychological warfare was that? ”
“ ... So you WON'T tell me a bedtime story? ”
“ Look, I'll just be my own MILF. ”
“ Listen, she's not stereotypically pretty, but she's pretty in a way where she balances elegance and grotesqueness and that is like top tier pretty. ”
“ So THAT'S where the stick went. ”
“ Ooooh how I wish it would rain down... gays on me ♫ ”
“ FUCK, I CAN FAIL AT THINGS NOW? THIS IS BULLSHIT! ”
“ I wanna put the war god in the jar! For no reason! Just pranks! ”
“ I don't... think monsters come in straight? ”
“ Thankfully, I have enough titty to compensate for everyone else's lack of titty. ”
“ WE DESCENDED INTO BITING EACH OTHER ONCE AGAIN. As it is the standard state of existence for us. ”
“ What is execution, if not legal murder? ”
“ I almost forgot that most drugs are illegal. ”
“ [NAME] could bust into my room right now and say ‘ Hey, I'm drafting you into my demon army ’ and I'd simply hop into her arms. ”
“ For you, you know I would do much more than grind you into a paste and spread you far and wide! ”
“ ... We have graduated from Feral Anger to De-escalation Mode. The fridge may not be knocked over, after all. ”
“ THE TEXT ITSELF IS GAY, NO UNDERLYING TONE IS NECESSARY. ”
“ I know you’re small. You got that scrambling energy. ”
“ No shirts, no shoes, only gays? ”
“[NAME], I'm booked to terrorize you with visions of Christmas Future tonight. Just giving you a heads-up. ”
“ It's not a callout post, if you're just stating facts. ”
“ Therapy is a motion-based predator. ”
“ Please think of me but in a sexy way. ”
“ There is a sexy way to think of you? ”
“ YOU WHAT OUTTA HER MOUTH??? ”
“ Sometimes, it's okay to eat your friends when they insult you. ”
“ The twink has breached containment. ”
“ YOUR JUDGEMENT CANNOT STOP MY NOCTURNAL LIFESTYLE. ”
“ [NAME] is surprisingly malicious. ”
“ ... I am convinced [NAME] is on mind control shrooms. ”
“ You fool, he’s echolocating. ”
“ Snap him over my knee like a fuckin Slim Jim. ”
“ Hank Hill Ass Havin Twink. ”
“ Pff- as if I don't know how to handle a cursed sword. I'm a professional here! ”
“ OH NO. THE SMILIE OF SUFFERING. ”
“It’s Twink Hunting Season and [NAME] is a goddamn trophy buck.”
“ You put those cursed words back in your mouth or so help me. ”
“ Losing a thumb will do that to you. ”
“ GIVE ME DARKNESS. GIVE ME SNACKS. GIVE ME WIFI. ”
“ Got no clue, let me go ask the only one I know that hasn't tried to kill me. ”
“ This. This is why I drink when nobody's looking. ”
“ Hey... want to fly closer to the sun there, Icarus? ”
“ I'm burdened with just enough Naruto lore to be dangerous. ”
“ PUNCH! THAT! ASS! ”
“ That reminds me, I should Beanpost again. ”
“ I have no soul, only void. I feel NOTHING for tormenting friends. ”
“ That’s a lie, you are LYING. You love this and I know you love it. ”
“ We have subjugated the tiddy. ”
“ This is the carbon requirement for human transmutation. ”
“ I mean. Vampire fucker rights though. ”
“ At least take him on a date before you ask him to elope with you! ”
#rp meme#ask meme#roleplay meme#roleplay sentence meme#roleplay starters#i. thought i was gonna have less quotes than this by now but holy shit.#mine
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I Think I'll Love You Too II
Chapter: 2/?
Rating: U
Summary: George and Ringo have been going out officially for a couple of months. Ringo anticipated that dating a stripper would be complicated, but he didn't understand exactly how complicated it would be.
Tags: Modern AU, Established Relationship
Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)
AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here
The following clean-up from their nocturnal experiment was far from easy, the wax seemed to crumble into tiny pieces and was determined to cover each inch of the carpet. George was insistent on doing most of the work, a struggle of manners ensued in which Ringo was adamant that he should help but eventually gave in and took up George's offer to relax in the bath.
Soaking in the warm water, Ringo's mind began to wander to their first official date. It seemed like such a long time ago now, although it had only been a couple of months at the most. Ringo could vividly picture arriving at George's house for the first time and picking him up for dinner, bruises still dotted across George's pale skin from the somewhat embarrassing but retrospectively rather comical fall at the club. Ringo had struggled to figure out the best place to take George, unfortunately the only advice available was John's.
"He's a vegetarian." Ringo emphasised for the fourth time, John had once again offered up a meat-only establishment.
"Oh, well you could've told me sooner." John scoffed, sometimes Ringo couldn't tell whether he was joking or truly that oblivious.
"What about sushi? That can be veggie, right?" Ringo was fiddling with a bouquet of flowers that had been left on John's kitchen counter, a small card had the name 'Paul' written on it, punctuated with a kiss.
"Sure." John offered "You could always, and hear me out, ask where he wants to go."
Ringo rolled his eyes "Great advice John, thanks. What if he doesn't know either?"
"Then you're both helpless and you belong together."
In the end Ringo had settled on sushi, which only calmed his panic somewhat because he still had to find which sushi place was best. He'd forgotten all about how stressful dating could be, and it'd been a long time since he'd been a proper date. Eventually he settled on a fairly affordable place that wasn't too far from his house, he felt rather silly calling up to make a reservation an hour in advance but he didn't want to risk embarrassing himself by not having a table booked.
This struggle with the restaurant left Ringo only an hour to get himself looking presentable for the date, his closet was emptied onto the floor and bed as he rummaged around for something suitable. He felt like making more of an effort than usual, this was one date he didn't want to screw up, especially knowing how fashionable George was likely to look. In the end he settled on a paisley blazer, it had been a gift from John years ago and had hardly been worn, and a black shirt underneath which he experimented with the buttons of.
He left himself just enough time to brush his teeth, sort out his hair and tidy the room as quickly as he possibly could. Hurrying over to George's in the car, he'd almost forgotten to be nervous about the date itself. Almost forgotten, because as soon as he knocked on George's door Ringo felt a wave of dread washing over him. He hadn't even thought of any conversation starters, or what he was going to order at the restaurant. As he waited for an answer, the dread only festered further. Yet once the door finally opened, revealing George draped in a decorative kimono, all fear subsided.
"Hi." Ringo spoke, suddenly sheepish.
"Hey." George replied with a grin, stepping out onto the street and locking the door behind him.
The two of them looked at one another for a few moments, eyes tracing from head to feet with no words being said. George was wearing makeup: his eyes darkened with liner and mascara, his gaunt cheekbones sparkling with highlight and his lips painted a tempting shade of red. Ringo could see that he'd tried to use foundation to cover over the bruises on his face but it wasn't entirely successful, not that it mattered.
"You look great." Ringo managed to get out without stumbling over his words as they walked over to his car.
"Thanks, so do you." George responded but Ringo supposed he was only trying to be polite.
Passing a shop window, Ringo stole a glance at the reflection and found himself presently surprised at how good the two of them looked together. Ringo was even beginning to believe George's compliment, a surge of confidence arising merely from being stood next to George. He'd anticipated that George would only make him look worse, but there was something complimentary in how the two of them were dressed. It was a small boost that Ringo needed to quash his nerves, he was determined to not ruin the night just because he was feeling anxious.
"So... Where are we headed?" George asked, stretching his legs out in front of him.
"Sushi." Ringo replied more curtly than intended "Is that alright?"
"I love sushi." George answered cheerily.
"What a relief." Ringo chuckled "I'm not gonna lie I was struggling to find a place to eat, with you being a vegetarian and all."
George paused for a moment "You remembered that?"
"Of course I did." Ringo panicked for a moment, afraid he'd said the wrong thing and given too much away but the smile that spread across George's painted lips calmed him back down.
It didn't take them long to arrive at the restaurant, it was rather busy but not so much that it would become uncomfortable. Ringo still couldn't believe his luck, that he'd actually been able to get a date with George. Looking back on how their relationship started, it was strange to consider that they'd end up here.
"Is your face alright?" Ringo asked when they'd been seated, it was hard to not notice the swelling on George's lip.
"Oh yeah, it's fine." George provided evidence with a genuine smile "I've had way worse, don't worry."
"You fall over a lot then?" Ringo joked, looking down at the menu and feeling a little intimidated by the amount of choice.
"Only when I know you're there to catch me." George winked "No, I've had my fair share of scraps here and there. That's just life, isn't it?"
Ringo chuckled "Not in my line of work, no."
"Don't be so modest, I haven't forgotten when you beat up that creep in the club." George was studying his menu with far less fear than Ringo "Any idea what you're gonna order?"
"Haven't the faintest." Ringo read the same words over and over again as though it'd help him understand "What about you?"
"Hmm, I think so." George answered with a confidence Ringo envied "Want some help?"
"Please." Ringo smiled sheepishly, laying down his menu and looking to George for assistance.
The date was hardly going as Ringo had anticipated, but while George went through dishes on the menu with a clear expertise Ringo couldn't stop himself from smiling. The intimidating Spike was describing in detail the difference between maki and temaki with such delicacy, it was such a strange moment of realisation for Ringo that made him truly understand how far they'd come. Ringo realised too late that he hadn't been listening to what George had been saying but it didn't matter in the end because George ordered for the both of them.
"So..." George began, drink in hand.
"So." Ringo repeated with a raised eyebrow.
"How long have you been waiting to take me out?" George asked with a knowing smile.
Ringo half expected this line of questioning to begin, he only wished he'd prepared some answers "Does it make a difference?"
"I'm just curious." George leaned in a little closer, a devilish look in his eyes.
Ringo sighed "Now I'm debating whether to lie so you don't think I'm a loser."
"I wouldn't bother with that, I already know you're a loser Ringo." George spoke deadpan, staring without expression then burst into laughter "I'm sorry, I had to."
"And that's meant to encourage me to be honest?" Ringo laughed nervously.
"Come on, tell me." George sounded almost whiny, a tone Ringo had heard before but never in regular conversation.
"Fine, fine." Ringo conceded after drinking his beer "In all honesty it was probably the first time I saw you... Not that I thought you'd ever say yes, of course."
The answer seemed to satisfy whatever itch George had "Really? I'm that good looking am I?"
"Not to sound cliché, but have you seen you? I don't think I've seen anyone more attractive." Ringo spoke somewhat seriously.
George blushed just slightly, having to look away from Ringo's intense gaze "You're sweet. But why were you even in the strip club in the first place? You didn't seem too at home, at least from what I remember."
Ringo felt rather complimented that George even remembered how he'd been acting all that time ago, he'd always supposed he hadn't left much of an impression at all and whatever he did was surely negative.
"John dragged me there. He, uh-" Ringo stopped himself before saying too much "Thought it'd cheer me up."
George squinted his eyes in suspicion "What aren't you telling me?"
Ringo paused, debating the best verbal exit strategy but the good beer and even better food was slowing his thought processes "Uh... Nothing?"
"Oh come on." George kicked Ringo lightly under the table "You think I'm gonna judge you?"
"Well, yes... But fine, I'll tell you." Ringo chuckled, pausing for an anticipatory breath "I'd been going through a bit of a... dry spell, so to speak."
A grin spread across George's face "Seriously?"
"Seriously." Ringo repeated, hiding his shame behind his beer.
"I find it hard to believe that you were having a 'dry spell'." George rested his hand on Ringo's own, his finger tracing around the metal of the rings.
"Well, I'd, er- I'd still be having one if you hadn't come along." Ringo stammered "Shit, that sounds really pathetic, doesn't it?"
"Just a tad." George smiled reassuringly "I'm just glad I could be of service."
"For a while you were making it worse, actually." Ringo had finished his beer and was itching for another "With all my pent up frustration and then I see you undressing on that stage, I nearly lost my mind."
George chuckled, looking rather proud of himself "I can only apologise for being so tempting." He emphasised the word by running his tongue over his top lip onto his sharp canine tooth.
"No need to apologise, it's your job after all." Ringo tried to remain composed "And in the end it all worked out so... No harm done."
"My aching body disagrees." George pouted his still somewhat swollen lip.
"Well... That was your own fault really." Ringo joked, finally catching the waiter's eye so that he could order another beer.
"You're right, you're right." George's hand was still pressed against Ringo's "Hopefully from here on out all the pain will be consensual."
Ringo blushed "Hopefully."
Later that night it was clear that there was no longer any need to be hopeful.
#the beatles fanfic#beatles fanfiction#the beatles fanfiction#the beatles#starrison#george harrison/ringo starr#george harrisonxringo starr#ringo starrxgeorge harrison#ringo starr/george harrison
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Insidious
Ruby wakes up burning.
I am once again ignoring how implausible this actually is in canon because this idea won't leave me alone. This is set in the early part of volume 4. Content warning for mentions of hospitals. Enjoy!
It starts, innocently enough, with a scrape.
It's the end of a long day and Ruby's aura is running low after their latest set of fights. So, when she notices the scrape on her side she just sighs and makes sure to clean it out thoroughly before bandaging it and collapsing into her sleeping bag. It's been a series of exhausting days since they fought the geist and Ruby discovered what Jaune was doing at night. Her mind has been whirling with what she should say to Jaune about what she knows (or if she should say anything) and the worry and guilt about her sister that refuses to go away no matter how much time passes and how much she shoves it down.
Oh, and then there's the nightmares of the Fall of Beacon, of Penny and Pyrrha dying. So yeah, Ruby could really stand to catch a break.
Unfortunately, that doesn't seem like it's going to happen anytime soon. The next morning Ruby wakes up groggy and sore, and walking all day in the muggy heat only seems to make things worse. By the time they make camp for the night (half a day's walk from the nearest village, which is frustrating, but none of them want to risk making the journey in the dark) Ruby has barely enough energy to finish help setting up their arrangements before collapsing into bed.
Right before she's about to drift off, she belatedly realizes that she really should clean and redress the scrape on her side again. But she's so tired. Surely it can wait until morning, right?
Apparently not.
Ruby wakes up burning.
Gasping, she flings the top of her sleeping bag away from her, trying in vain to escape the overwhelming heat. When that has no effect, she pushes herself clumsily to her feet, staggering in the direction of the spring she remembers being nearby, with the hope of submerging herself in the water until she cools down some.
Her side throbs angrily as she moves, but she ignores it. The heat is unbearable.
"Ruby? What are you doing?"
Jaune is proud of himself for his reaction when he finds a delirious Ruby stumbling around the camp in the middle of the night: he takes a minute to panic, then forces himself to pull it together. He gently stops Ruby from wandering too far and wakes Ren and Nora, urging them to pack up camp and get a move on. Ruby is obviously sick, too sick for them to treat on their own, and the next village is large enough that it should have a doctor on site. It's their best chance.
He's proud of how quickly his team gets it together. Within minutes they've got everything packed up and they're on the move, Ren doing his best to mask their emotions and hide them from any Grimm that might be lurking nearby.
Team JNRR—no, team RNJR—has really come a long way.
The sun is rising on the horizon by the time they arrive in the village. Practically as soon as they set foot inside the town—and the few people that happen to be awake spot the obviously sick Ruby—their little group is ushered over to the building where the doctor works. Actually, this village is large enough that it's more like a proper hospital.
Ruby is whisked away from them and they're left to wait for what seems like an eternity in the small waiting room. Next to Jaune, Nora bounces anxiously, while on her other side Ren looks as stoic as ever. Jaune can feel the tension radiating off him, though.
"Do you think she'll be okay?" Nora asks, uncharacteristically quiet, her green eyes wide with worry.
"I don't know," Jaune admits, not wanting to give her false hope. "I hope so. I'm sure that the doctors are doing everything they can." They've lost too many people already.
Just when Jaune is about to finally give in and ask if they can see their friend, a nurse appears at the door and gestures to him. He almost trips over his chair in his eagerness to comply, blushing as he rights himself before making his way over more cautiously.
"Your friend has an infected wound," the nurse tells him. "Her prognosis is looking good and she should recover fine with treatment, but at the moment she is refusing to calm down, which is putting unnecessary strain on her body. We don't want to sedate her, as that would also be too hard on her system while she is ill."
"I'll talk to her, try to get her to settle down somewhat," Jaune promises. Normally he would ask Ren to help him with Ruby, but his friend is already exhausted from shielding them from nocturnal Grimm. Jaune will have to take care of this one on his own.
He relays Ruby's diagnosis to Nora and Ren, asking them to try to find a place to stay while he goes to see Ruby, since the doctor is only allowing one visitor at a time right now. They agree, reluctantly exiting the clinic with only a few glances over their shoulders at him. Jaune sighs. The sun has only been up for an hour or so and he's already exhausted.
But there's no time to rest. With the rest of his team taken care of, he rolls his shoulders and goes to see Ruby. She looks too small against the stark white of her hospital bed, wrapped up in wires and tubes. Her face is pinched with pain and deathly pale under the flush from the fever. As soon as he steps into the room, glazed silver eyes lock onto his face.
"Jaune!" she mumbles urgently, slurring her words slightly. "You have to, have to warn Pyrrha! And Penny! They're, they're in danger!'
"I will," he promises quietly. He's not going to remind her of what actually happened when she's this out of it. "Why don't you get some rest? It'll make you feel better."
She shakes her head violently. "No, I can't," she insists weakly. "Yang. I have to—I need to tell her I'm sorry. For everything."
"Ruby, it's okay. I'm sure that Yang understands. Just please, get some sleep."
Again, she just shakes her head, mumbling incoherently under her breath about her sister. She's not settling down at all, and Jaune feels like a failure. How can he calm Ruby down when she's this worked up?
A sudden idea strikes him, and he digs through his pocket until he finds his scroll. Without thinking too much about what he's doing (because if he does, he'll realize that there's no way this could work), he scrolls through his contacts until he gets to Yang's number and dials it. Miraculously, the call connects and Yang's voice filters through the tinny speakers of his scroll. "Hello?"
Jaune quickly switches his scroll to speaker mode. "Hey, Ruby, it's Yang."
At the mention of his sister, Ruby goes rigid. "Yang?" she asks quietly.
"Yeah, it's me. What's going on, Ruby?"
"Yang, 'm so sorry," Ruby sobs. "For everything." She trails off, continuing to mumble about how sorry she is.
Yang sighs. "It's okay, Ruby. I forgive you. I'm sorry for what I said too. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Ruby sniffles loudly, but already she's becoming calmer. "Thank'you, Yang."
"No problem, sis," Yang replies. "Now, Rubes, you're not sounding so good. Why don't you try to get some rest?"
Ruby's eyes are already half shut, but she still bobs her head in a tiny nod. "M'kay. Love you, Yang."
"I love you too."
By the time Yang finishes talking to Jaune, the sun is high in the sky. He tells her about what happened, about waking up in the middle of the night to find Ruby sick from an infected wound and rushing her to the hospital, how she'd been treated but wouldn't calm down, so he'd called her as a last resort and miraculously gotten through.
Or, more accurately, the hospital had a scroll signal extender that had allowed him to reach her. In the end, the result is the same. It's a relief to hear her sister's voice, but after the call Yang finds herself more worried than ever. Jaune promises to keep looking after her sister before he hangs up, leaving Yang alone in her room with just her thoughts for company.
She sighs heavily. So much for her seething jealousy and resentment at Ruby for going out on her adventures and leaving Yang behind. Her sister is out there risking her life, constantly in danger, and Yang isn't there to protect her and have her back.
Well. Yang looks over at the prosthetic arm that her father had presented to her so excitedly, waiting eagerly to be tried out. She can keep moving forwards. It's all up to her to decide what to do.
She's got work to do.
#rwby#ruby rose#yang xiao long#strawberry sunrise#jaune arc#volume 4#sickfic#fanfic#my writing#fever
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