#I just want to sleep but the kitchen is 5ft away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

keltonwrites · 3 years ago

Text

I'm not sure if that's a good thing

“Well you’re definitely the first.” This past week, we screened-in the eastern facing porch on the side of the cabin. The porch slopes to the South, with the brick-on-dirt floor crumbling in that direction as well until it reaches uneven slabs of stone acting as steps down to the “yard” below. A mixed material retaining wall wraps beneath the steps to the south facing garage, holding up one corner of the narrow deck on the front of the house. The deck, in the heat of a high altitude summer, droops off the house like it’s daydreaming about the winter snow’s embrace. It’s safe to sit on, though I would not recommend leaning on the railing.

The side porch takes the brunt of the wind. Our wooden rocking chairs have been rocked some 20 feet into the yard more than once in the two months we lived here. In the myriad of threats we heard about the weather, most people included the wind. We all know how I feel about this ongoing weather intimidation tactic. I asked, “what speed are the gusts?” “Oh, they get up to 70 miles per hour on some days.” This was the first quantifiable piece of weather information someone had offered — an actual number we could react to with data and our historical personal experiences of various weather events. And our reaction was: uhhhh…. OK???? Look, I get it. No one’s preaching the skin benefits of -20 degree wind gusts at 70 mph, building snow drifts against your house in the span of minutes that Cooper could die in. I am not going to pretend that’s pleasant. But 70 mph? Any wind I’ve driven faster than does not intimidate me. I used to rally the horses at 12 years old in winds over 70mph to get them in the barn before the latest tornado whipped through. I helped shutter the resort in the BVI as the Category 5 hurricane rolled in. Even in Topanga, 70 mile per hour gusts were not uncommon in Santa Ana events. We had our single pane windows shatter more than once from debris in the wind. We taped cardboard up and went to sleep. That “70 mph” was all I needed to hear to confirm our next project: we were going to build a catio for these cats, and we were going to do it on the pre-existing porch structure to save time and money. We spent a week framing out the structure. We had to carve into the logs of the house to embed the wood supports for the framing.

And from there, every piece of wood was custom carved and cut to fit around the existing timber supports. The existing porch was so wildly uneven that there are gaps between each piece of old wood and the new framing. Our plan is to mix all the wood chips from the project with mortar/chinking and stuff the gaps — a good solution for the log cabin look. We built a plywood pony wall up to 28 inches from the interior of the porch, which gives a height of ~4-5ft from the exterior ground below. It’s capped with a 2x6” railing for even the fluffiest of cats to find a perch. The exterior will be wrapped with corrugated metal that we’ll quick-age to match the metal that wraps the bottom of the cabin. On the interior of the porch, we’ll use shiplap to hide the framing.

The screens themselves can withstand winds up to 120 mph, but to-be-determined if they can hold the weight of a growing maniac cat who has already tried to climb them. In the event the screens succumb to cat (or wind or snow or neighbor judgment) we’ll reinforce with metal mesh. We’re going to maintain this screen porch regardless of what the screen is. We had the pleasure of running into one of our more industrious neighbors the other day, and Ben asked him, “hey we’re building a screen porch. Is this a terrible idea?” He laughed. “Well you’re definitely the first.” But he liked it. Great way to diminish wind into the house. Simple way to regulate the temperature with massive south-facing windows. And indeed a practical outdoor safe haven for cats in predator territory. Just because you’re the first doesn’t mean you’re foolish — just foolhardy. There’s plenty of that here. This town has the typical mountain town’s truncated version of a colonizers’ history: “established 1881.” But it was plenty established prior to that by the Uncompahgre Band of the Ute Nation, removed by the U.S. Army on September 7, 1881, nearly 140 years ago. The government relocated the Uncompahgre Ute People to Utah, and one year after the Ute were forcibly removed from their ancestral land, San Miguel County split off from Ouray County and was made its own political subdivision in the newly-formed State of Colorado. In 1879, the ore-laden valley already had 50 people living in it, with a new narrow gauge railway only 2 miles away. By 1885, it was a town of 200 people. There was a hotel, a couple saloons, a pool hall. Winters were treacherous; the valley was and is prone to avalanches. But where there’s gold, there’s gumption. The power needed to run the stamp mill to process ore drove innovation. Timber was scarce at such high elevations, so a wood powered steam mill wouldn’t cut it. But the San Miguel River just a few miles down from the mine looked promising. Thus began the development and construction of the Ames Hydroelectric Generating Plant. It was a hit. In fact, it was so successful that the Ames Plant led to the adoption of alternating currents at Niagara Falls and eventually to being adopted worldwide as a viable power solution. The plant remains, but the gold rush obviously didn’t. By 1940, the U.S. Census declared this little town I call home as tied for the lowest population in the country: 2 people. By 1960, it was one of four incorporated towns in the U.S. with no residents. But the joke was on the Census — the town’s single resident was just out of town the day the census came through. 1960 population: 1. By 1980 the population grew to 38, 69 in 1990, and about 180 now. (Plus 51 dogs according to the town’s website.) With modern amenities, it’s easier to be here. Studded snow tires, satellite internet, solar panels, instant coffee. No matter the hardships, there’s the reality of the present. In the 1880s, as the town boomed, the Ouray Times declared, “it will be at no distant day a far more pretentious town than it is now.” That day hasn’t exactly arrived, but I guess it depends on what you consider pretentious. I don’t think the town claims any airs of excellence beyond what’s true. In fact, the town hardly claims anything at all. There’s no sign indicating it’s even here. There’s just the old side and the new side. The new side, the Eastern half, was drawn out in the early 1990s, some 100 years later, and is separated from the Old Town by an avalanche zone—preserved open space for hiking in the summer, preserved open space for surviving in the winter. The town forbids short-term rentals, no one has a fence, dogs roam free, and all the houses have that cabin look to them. A boulder nests in a grove near a trailhead in the center of town with a plaque paying respect to the Utes who called this valley home. There’s no industry here. No businesses allowed. If you want a $7 latte, you can drive the 14 miles required to get it, assuming there’s not an avalanche blocking your path. You can, however, buy a pink lemonade in a

solo cup at the permanent lemonade stand run by the local feral child mafia. Crystals (rocks) can be purchased for an additional cost. We bought one, hoping to buy favor at the same time. The town plan has a few guiding principles, and it’s all in the name of preservation. We must preserve: 1 - the quiet atmosphere 2 - the rustic character 3 - the natural setting

And finally: 4 - protect the health and wellbeing of the people here No snowmobiles, no ATVs, no drones. In fact, the only sign of the outside world here are the passers-through. When you take the dirt road through town to the end, you enter National Forest, and you can hike over the pass saddle at nearly 12,000 feet before descending down the other side into Silverton. The pass road climbs rutted through an aspen forest before scaling across a scree field and then lurching over to the other side. Every day, it seems like 30 or so Texans and Arizonans in lifted and loud Jeeps with unused mods climb over this mountain in the comfort of their air conditioning, simply to drive down the other side. You could hike it, ride it, run it, and ski it, but they don’t. They rev their engines, kicking up dust in a town of feral children and roaming dogs, staring at us instead of waving. I’ve lived here for two months and look how salty I am. I’ll fit in yet. But today, there is a temperature that whispers of perfect trails and the dwindling of ogglers driving 35 in a 15. It’s already snowed in the mountains we see from our kitchen. Today, like a dedication to the Septembers of our youth, you can feel a chill in the air. A temperature akin to pencils and sweaters and reinventing yourself. A temperature that doesn’t exactly sing “screen porch” but could if you had the right slippers on. That’s what I did this morning: put my slippers on and sat there in the cool mountain morning air, thinking about the cemetery behind our house, about the Ute tribe, about the miners, about the mailman who died on Christmas in 1875 on the pass, about the 5 people who died in avalanches here just last year, about the people in their cars on their phones driving through, and all the people who’s very first question to us was, “so are you gonna live here part-time or full-time?” Maybe it will be a hard place to live. But at least we’ll have a screen porch.

Every week I'm writing about moving to log cabin in a small town at 10,000 feet. Subscribe here for free: tinyletter.com/keltonwrites

#colorado #small town life #home renovation #amwriting #creative writing #newsletter #a little bit better

11 notes · View notes

whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years ago

Text

Friday 2 September 1836

7 50

12 ¼

No kiss fine and F56° at 8 ¾ am Robert Mann + 4 had set the 2 posts for the new timber-porch and began taking out the hall cellar (9ft. 6in. wide and 6 yards long) and soon after 5pm had got it sunk 4ft. deep - barrowed out the stuff (clay) and left it in the court to be carted away - then took 3 men off to fetch each a plan from the wheel-race, and took Robert M- and Sam Booth to empty out the [? dung] and pull down the hen-house floor which they did - John Booth and I had been siding out the stuff all the afternoon - 2 masons finished the shoe-house etc filled up the ends and made all up after the slate was put on - Baldwin and his young man came this morning and did it - Ingham and his man and boy walling - got up about as far as to where they pulled down yesterday - Had Mr. Husband before breakfast and paid him the timber freightage notes, and told him he had best go over Leeds about a brewing copper - no regular brazier in H-x - Wilson, plumber, will furnish a new copper at 1/6 per lb. - breakfast at 9 ¼ - A- read her French - expected Mr. Jubb at 10 - waited about - he came at 11 - my aunt told him she should like to go back to her own room - said she should sleep there tonight - A- and I on going to see about the curtains putting up found the bed-head etc wanted a thorough cleaning - a bed of dust on the top - sent for Matty Pollard - had the white top and head of the bed and inside valances washed and gave the wainscoting and top of the room and windows and thorough cleaning - I did a great deal –

SH:7/ML/E/19/0101

busy about it till after 3 pm when A- rode to Cliff Hill - then busy siding and pulling down the hen-house till 6 50 - the hen-house end will not stand - asked Booth what walling with mortar the stone that are on the spot could be done for - 8/. per rood - spoke to him about letting this part of the job - talked of a low room 6ft. high - then a chamber for men-servants sleeping room 7ft. high then a room up to the top (5ft. from floor to square) for myself entered from the kitchen chamber with a flue put into the kitchen chimney - would be 14 or 15 roods of walling at 8/. = £5.12.0 or £6 dinner at 7 - saw my aunt in the afternoon, and just before and after dinner and A- sat with her while I saw after her room getting ready - coffee in the blue room and A- read her French - had had the York joiners in the afternoon doing the bed and moving the furniture - the turn-up bed could not be got upstairs - the joiners, in ½ hour (till 8 ½) took out the east window in my aunt’s room and got the bed nicely into the room - it was 9 ¾ when they could get the clock away and done all - very civil nice men - thanked them and gave them 2/. each (they well pleased) for their trouble - my aunt was got into the room at 10 ¼ - wrote all the above of today till 11 pm at which hour F45° very showery almost perpetually rainy day - my aunt better tonight - seems satisfied to have got back again into her room

5 notes · View notes

ladylouoflothlorien · 5 years ago

Text

Heal My Heart

anonymous asked:

I see you have requests open! I'd love to see something with Dwalin awkwardly courting a sweet little hobbit healer reader who also takes no shit.... is that too specific? I just need more Dwalin content! ~cassiabaggins Ok so, I swear to god are requests supposed to be this long when you write them ^^;;;? I guess when I did the other request I got for Dwalin before and I said “any excuse to write for Dwalin” I really meant it. I’ll tag you just to make sure you see it! @cassiabaggins SO HERE YOU GO: Heal My Heart Dwalin x Female!Hobbit!Reader Words: 3676

“Tea’s at 4.” Bilbo had said. “Don’t bother knocking.”

Well there he was outside of Bag End at precisely 4pm – he’d timed his arrival perfectly.

Dwalin had been looking forward to his visit to the Burglar of Bag End for many months. He’d spent one winter in Erebor after the reclamation and, as much as it pained him to admit it, it was not the home he once remembered. There were too many ghosts in the stone walls for him, not least the death of his great friend and King who he hadn’t been able to save. Dain had graciously offered him a decorated position in the Royal Guard, and though Dwalin truly appreciated the offer, he’d declined. He had his share of the treasure, so there was no need for him to work. Apart from that, he knew deep down that no King would ever hold his loyalty in the same way that Thorin had, and how could he dedicate his life to protect a King he cared little for when he’d already done that for a King he did care about and had failed. Not long into that cold winter, he’d began entertaining thoughts of following Bilbo back to The Shire, if only for a change of scene. He needed to get away from that mountain mausoleum.

It surprised him just how much he longed for soft grass and rolling hills, perhaps because it was the exact opposite of the things that reminded him of his pain. Balin had been the one to convince him to wait until the winter was over before heading out, especially as he intended to undertake the journey alone. Azog might be dead, but the roads were still far from safe. The snow had come, and stayed for months, but as soon as it had melted Dwalin was ready to leave. He’d completed all his preparations weeks before.

Bag End was exactly like he remembered, although the mark Gandalf had placed on the door was gone. The Shire itself didn’t seem any different, though he’d hardly gotten a good look at it the first time he’d been there, considering he’d arrived under the cover of darkness. He stood in Bilbo’s front garden, stalling, for now he had finally arrived at his destination he felt a strange hesitancy to complete his journey. That, and he was still debating as to whether or not he should actually knock, or simply walk in. Which would be more of a surprise? After a short internal debate, he decided to heed the Hobbit’s advice, and he pushed the door open without knocking.

When Dwalin stepped into the Smial he was suddenly transported back over a year before, remembering how he felt setting off on such a mighty quest. Had he known quite how it would end, he most likely would have done everything in his power to prevent it from happening, for what was a Mountain Throne without a King to sit in it? The tall dwarf was pulled from his moping by the sound of voices. The first, Bilbo’s, but the second he did not recognise. Intrigued, he walked towards the voices and found himself hovering outside Bilbo’s Kitchen.

“Bilbo really, this is the absolute last time I stitch you up because you slept with that silly knife in the bed.”

Dwalin heard the tell-tale sound of Bilbo sniffing, and just knew he was wrinkling his nose. Beorn’s nickname for Bilbo had been rather accurate, hadn’t it?

“It is not a ‘silly’ knife. Its name is Sting, and it’s my sword.”

“Sword or no sword, it does not belong under the covers Bilbo Baggins!”

Bilbo being scolded? Now that Dwalin had to see. Quite as a mouse – or at least a mouse that was close to 5ft of solid muscle – he moved his body so he could peek around the open arch-way that led into the kitchen. As silent as he’d been up until that point, the sight of Bilbo sitting on his kitchen bench – blushing – as a sweet female hobbit tenderly examined his arm, made him forget himself.

“By Mahal buglar, ye’ never told us ye’d found yerself a wife!”

---

As it turned out, Bilbo had not found himself a wife, thank you very much Mister Dwalin. The Hobbit had been blushing because he’d been embarrassed, as it was not the first or even the second time he’d needed patching up after cutting himself on his on sword whilst he slept. Dwalin understood the underlying meaning behind the injuries; the Hobbit had been sleeping with his sword because he felt unsafe somehow. Dwalin didn’t need to be as smart as his brother to work out why that might be.

If he’d needed an excuse to stay in The Shire, he could’ve used the excuse of staying to help Bilbo feel safe, but as it turned out Bilbo was more than eager to have his friend stay at Bag End for an extended period of time.

“Now you’re here you surely won’t be off again in a hurry, Dwalin! I’ll have the guest room ready for you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Dwalin hadn’t been quite sure how lambs’ tails came into anything, but he wasn’t going to question an invitation to stay, not now he had yet another reason for wanting to remain in The Shire for the foreseeable future. By Durin’s beard if she wasn’t the most beautiful creature he’d ever beheld, beardless face and all. Having found out that she was not in fact Bilbo’s wife, but rather his cousin – once removed on his father’s side, and thrice on his mother’s – and The Shire’s most knowledgeable healer, he’d felt a sense of relief he could compare with none he had ever felt.

It had taken Dwalin all of 10 minutes to realise that she was his One, and he was not at all disappointed that she was a Hobbit, though he realised that Hobbits did not love in quite the same way as Dwarves did and he knew he would have to properly win her affections. He felt up to the challenge, though the very thought of courting her made him jittery all over. Still, if he could face down a pack of warg-riding orcs with less than a handful of fear then surely he could face this new challenge head on.

---

The day you met Dwalin had started out no more remarkable than any other day, but it had not ended so. You’d been rather exasperated to find that, upon your visit to one of your more cherished family members for afternoon tea, you had yet another injury to tend to. You were growing rather concerned for your cousin Bilbo, though it came out of you as exasperation. So far he had only given himself gashes – rather nasty gashes, but gashes all the same – but you knew that sleeping with a sharp object could never bring anything but harm. How long would it be before he gave himself an injury that would be much more difficult to fix, and more difficult to heal from?

You’d barely finished the business of stitching up his latest cut when a third party had made itself known in Bag End, and by the Lady you were glad he hadn’t shown up before or else you might not have had the presence of mind to complete the stitches properly. You didn’t think you’d ever seen anyone quite so attractive in your entire life. You felt certain that his biceps were larger than your head, and oh sweet Yavanna, he really did tower over you, being a respectable 3ft and 6 inches yourself. You finally understood why the Lady had taken Aulë as her husband. It seemed a very wise decision if he looked anything at all like the beings he’d created.

You were rather busy for a week after the Dwarf, Dwalin, had arrived, but after that time you began to find more and more excuses to visit Bag End. Your cousin, who seemed to see right through you to the real reason of your visits, also began to invite you to dine with him more regularly than before.

A week more, and strange things began to happen. A strong wind had blown a tree down, which had in turn damaged the fencing in the front garden of your own Smial. You’d mentioned this in passing whilst eating dinner at Bag End one night, as you hadn’t yet had a chance to get it fixed. Then the next morning as you left your Smial to go and collect healing herbs, you found none other than Dwalin himself in your front garden. The tree that had fallen was no more, having already been chopped up – by one of Dwalin’s axes, you assumed – and the logs piled neatly. The gruff dwarf was already going about the business of mending the broken fence when you greeted him. Naturally, you thanked him profusely and asked him what he wanted in return. He’d seemed about to say something, but a wonderfully pink colour had spread across his cheeks, partly hidden by his facial hair, and he’d clammed up. He’d quietly grumbled something about not expecting anything in return, and that it was the least he could do for any cousin of Bilbo’s, and so you’d thanked him once again and gone on your way feely very grateful but also thoroughly confused.

The second incident occurred two days after the first. At about midday you’d gotten a knock on the door, and when you opened it you’d been surprised to see Dwalin once again at your front door …. holding a brace of rabbits. He held them towards you, and you’d taken them, for there seemed nothing else to do.

“A-are these for me, Mister Dwalin?” You’d asked, and he’d nodded to confirm it, but had said no more.

You floundered a little at that, having never been gifted meat before, but you’d stepped to the side slightly and asked him inside. You supposed the least you could do would be to offer him some refreshment – it was time for lunch after all. Dwalin had once again gone that rather delicious red shade and had muttered something about ‘not wanting to impose’ so quietly that you almost missed it. He’d bowed a little then, and hurried away, and you were left feeling as confused as you’d felt at the conclusion of your last meeting, although this time the confusion was tinged with disappointment. You’d rather wanted to spend some private time with the gorgeous Dwarf, but he didn’t seem interested at all. His kindness towards you was rather frustrating if that was all it truly was.

After a few more similar happenings, you finally snapped. You’d waited until you knew Dwalin would be away from Bag End – several Hobbits had been employing him to do menial tasks they were not strong enough to do themselves – and when the coast was clear you snuck in to have a private word with your cousin.

“And that’s not all, Bilbo!” Your hands tugged at your hair in frustration as you paced the floor of his study, whilst Bilbo himself remained seated calmly in his chair.

“First it was the fence, and then the rabbits, but he’s also given me furs ‘in case next winter is too harsh for ye’ lass’..” You paused to glare at Bilbo as he laughed at your poor imitation of the dwarf’s accent.

“Yes yes, well you laugh, but he’s also given me a brand new dagger to make it easier for me to collect herbs. It looks like he made it himself Bilbo! No-one around here would either make or own a knife with dwarvish runes carved into it!”

At that Bilbo sat up a little, suddenly alert. All the gifts Dwalin had been giving you, and the order, seemed to be ringing a bell in his mind, he just couldn’t quite remember why.

“Now, don’t you worry. I’ve been writing letters to his brother Balin, you see.” He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and held it aloft.

“It’s my turn to write, and write I shall. I will ask Balin if there is any greater meaning behind this, and when the raven brings his reply we shall know all, if there is anything to be known.”

---

Another fortnight of you enduring an adorably blushing, extremely helpful, frustratingly unwilling-to-explain-his-actions dwarf and Balin’s letter finally arrived.

Dear Bilbo,

As always it was very nice to receive your letter, but I won’t waste your time with needless chatter, as I am sure you will be eager to hear what I have to tell you next.

It would seem that my brother Dwalin has forgotten the first rule of Dwarven courting, which is tell the person that they are being courted, for though he is as stone-headed and iron-fisted as our father could have ever wished for, he is sensitive in his own way.

As you have no doubt deduced from that previous statement, it would appear that my brother is trying to court your cousin. Dwarrow do not go about sharing the details of our rituals and habits, but it is necessary in this case, and though you are a thief I know you to be an honest one, my friend, so I know I can count on you not to spread this information further than is needed.

Our courting is about showing your intended that you can take care of them, provide for them, keep them safe and protected. From what you say Dwalin has been doing, it seems he has covered these steps and is moving on to the next. The dagger you could say is a gift with the purpose of protecting her when he cannot do so himself, even if he has used the herb-gathering as a cover story. I would not be surprised if he soon gives her something more expensive – there should be at least one gift given to enhance something about her that he finds beautiful.

Do write again Bilbo, if all goes well I hope I shall soon be able to call you family in more than just combat!

Yours,

Balin.

“Well.” Bilbo said to himself as he leaned back in his chair, bringing his pipe to his lips. “Well, isn’t that something?”

---

You sat in your front room, twisting your skirt between your fingers anxiously. You’d heard about Balin’s letter from Bilbo, and now whenever you weren’t busy you were anxiously waiting for Dwalin to come around with his next gift. You hadn’t seen him for a few days, and you could only assume that the next time he came, it would be with the ‘expensive gift’ Balin’s letter had mentioned. Your stomach was twisted in many, many knots, for you knew that you had to get Dwalin to admit that he was courting you – your heart could only take so much, and though Balin’s letter had done much to confirm your own sneaking suspicions, you couldn’t get the nagging voice of doubt to shut up. Besides, Balin’s letter had said it was only right and proper that Dwalin actually let you know that he was trying to court you.

Then it came, that knock at you front door, and you practically jumped a foot out of your chair at the sound. You took a deep breath to steady yourself before going to open it, and were rather disappointed to see that it wasn’t in fact Dwalin, but a rather frantic looking Hobbit that you didn’t know that well. As it turned out, their husband had come down with a fever, and before you knew it you were rushing off to treat them, your worries about Dwalin temporarily forgotten.

By the time you got back to your Smial, it was dusk, and you were exhausted. You almost didn’t notice Dwalin sitting on the bench in your front garden, patiently waiting for you to return with a box in his hands.

“O-oh, hello Mister Dwalin!” You stammered out, and felt rather put-out that you hadn’t had any alone time to prepare yourself for meeting him.

“Good evening, lass.”

As always he was rather quiet when addressing you, seemingly unable to look you in the eye for more than a second in total. He shuffled where he stood a little, and then held the box out to you, telling you to take it without using his words. You steeled yourself before replying, pushing your shoulders back in an attempt to physically force confidence into your small body.

“I… Dwalin I…” You took a deep breath and tried again.

“Dwalin I cannot take this, I-”

You’d been ready to continue, to explain everything, but Dwalin’s face visibly fell so dramatically that it caught you off guard and your words escaped you. His whole body seemed to deflate and sag until he was almost your height, and you swore you could see his hands tremble slightly around the box they were still holding.

“O-of course lass..” He began, his voice trailing off until it sounded more like he was grumbling at himself than really responding to her.

“Don’t know wha’ I was thinking… ugly brute like me… of course ye’ wouldn’t…”

You were so stunned by the things he was muttering about himself that you couldn’t do anything, and only when he turned to leave did you finally regain control of yourself. You reached out your hand and held his arm to keep him where he was, and he stilled, though you did not doubt he could break out of your hold in an instant If he chose to. He looked at you, his face a heart-breaking picture of self-doubt, confusion, and a small amount of hope.

“M-mister Dwalin.. that is to say..” You could feel your own face growing red as you tried to force out the words you’d so carefully prepared by yourself, in front of your mirror.

“I-I will gladly accept it… but isn’t there something you need to say to me? That is.. I.. Balin’s letter said…” You trailed off, your embarrassment and anxiety having risen to no-doubt dangerous levels.

Dwalin on the other hand finally seemed to have regained the ability to speak at a normal volume around you.

“Ye’ had a letter from my brother Balin, lass?” He asked, utterly confounded by the idea, for how would his brother even know to send you a letter? You shook your head quickly.

“N-no.. his letter to Bilbo!” As you continued to speak, you voice got quieter and quieter until Dwalin had to strain to hear the words.

“He said.. that dwarven courting … needs to be… told plainly.. I mean..” You swallowed, once again consumed by the thought that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t actually been trying to court you at all and this was all some cruel trick.

The truth of the situation finally dawned on the old warrior.

“Oh Mahal.. lass I’m such a fool…” He groaned, and finally all the words he’d been yearning to say but hadn’t had the courage to came spilling out like a flood from a burst dam.

“I wanted to tell ye’ really I did… but I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come. I should’ve stopped then lass, but I did not have the strength …”

You let out a shaky, but relieved breath, and let go of his arm in favour of gently taking his – much larger – hands with your own, curling slim fingers over thick fingers where they still grasped the box.

“Dwalin. One question, just ask it.”

You could visibly see him swallow, buying himself time to gather his courage.

“Will ye’ let me court ye’, lass?”

“Yes, yes Dwalin I think I will.”

You laughed out loud, euphoria filling your small frame, and you flung yourself against Dwalin. Your arms found his broad shoulders and thanks to his warrior’s reflexes he managed to catch you with one hand, still holding the box with the other, all the while not even realising what had happened. Before he had time to process that you were in his arms – well, arm – you kissed him, and when his brain finally caught up with reality, he kissed you back as well.

---

Several months later, you lay sprawled out on your marriage bed, feeling practically weightless. Dwalin lay beside you, on his side with one arm resting over your stomach.

“Did ye’ enjoy that lass?” He asked, a teasing note in his tone as he looked at you, though there was an undercurrent of insecurity. He still didn’t quite know how an old, battle-scarred dwarf like him had managed to wed a sweet wee hobbit like yourself.

You turned your head slowly to look at him, your eyebrows raised almost to your hairline.

“Dwalin love, are you kidding? That was incredible.” You smiled softly at him and reached out a hand to stroke his cheek, and when your fingers lightly brushed over his facial hair he groaned a little and pressed into the touch.

“Oh? Dear husband, would you like to go again?”

His eyes snapped open in surprise. Of course he would very much like to, but he’d imagined that you would probably want to sleep after the first, as the wedding had been a long and – though very happy – rather tiring.

“A-again?” He choked out, and your smile turned mischievous.

“Oh yes, I think so.”

You pushed your hand against his shoulder and watched with satisfaction as he rolled onto his back, though you knew he could easily resist if he wanted to. You swung one leg over his thick waist and settled yourself above him, and he thought he might go blind to see such a vision above him.

“This time, however, I think you should lie back my dear, and let me take care of you.”

“Oh Mahal.”

Dwalin realised then that he would get little sleep that night, but as your form shifted over his, he realised that he did not care.

The End.

Forever Tags: @sweeticedtea @cd1242 @strongandfreedc @pixierox101 @jotink78 @luna-xial @underthemoon-imagines

#dwalin #dwalin x reader #dwalin request

335 notes · View notes

mamawolfblood · 4 years ago

Text

Though he didn't know it yet Chris Mclean was in for a shocking revelation. One of the campers is not exactly just some rando kid. This camper is his kid and she is out to expose it.

Name : Iris Escalona

Age 16

Eye color green

Caramel skin

Black hair that she keeps in a high ponytail. A Cherokee rose on the left side of the hair tie.

Iris is 5ft 8",135lb

Out fit-White tanktop with the alchemists symbol blue acid washed jean shorts black converses

Iris has a dark sense of humor. She loves horror,pranks,is resourceful. Iris is not above smashing some skulls together. She is not quick to anger but Heather pushes a lot of her buttons.

All her life she just wanted Chris to know she was alive. Her mother never gave the reason why she left. She is the oldest of seven children.

________chapter 3_________

• Chris: Last time on Total Drama Island, twenty-three campers arrived and learned that they'll be spending the next eight weeks at the crusty old summer camp. The campers we're faced with their first challenge, jumping off a cliff into the shark-infested waters. While most campers took the plunge, a few were forced to wear the dreaded chicken hat. At the campfire ceremony, it all came down to two campers, Courtney has experience as a CIT in summer camp, but refused to jump, and Ezekiel managed to tick off every female at the camp with his sexist comments about women, in the end, the first camper voted off Total Drama Island was Ezekiel, proving that homeschooling and reality TV don't mix, who will be voted off this week in this dramatic campfire ceremony yet? Find out tonight on Total... Drama...Island.

Iris woke up early and snuck into the kitchen.

It looked a mess it was four in the morning so she needed something to do.

(Confessionals)

Iris looked into the camra

"Ok so ever since I was ten I wake up at four in the morning. Some nights I don't even sleep. Doctors can't figure out why but hey at least I can do something before the challenge starts."

*Static*

(End of Confessionals)

Iris was almost done cleaning when Chef walked in. "And what are you doing up?" Chef said crossing his arms. "Sorry Chef woke up at four and couldn't go back to sleep. I decided to clean the kitchen to help you out. If you need help cooking I can do that too." She said still scrubbing. "Awe thats real nice of you sweetpea. But I can take it from here go get washed up. The mess hall looks great. " Iris stood up saluting him. He did the same to her and she went to the showers.

(Confessionals)

Chef

That girl is a sweetheart. I haven't met a kid who would just clean without being asked. Her parents raised her right she will make a man happy one day.

*static *

(End of Confessionals)

Iris walked into the mess hall. Chef had a cup of coffe ready for her. "Here you go sweetie thanks again for cleaning the place up." He said making her bluch. "No problem if you need any help you can always ask." She said sitting down. "Why did you clean this dump?! You never do anything nice." Courtney came over before Iris could take on sip of her ainti murder juice. Holding up one finger Iris took a drink. "Ok child now that I had a caffeine shot I can speak. I wake up a four am every day. Why I do not know I just do. Some nights I don't even sleep. As for doing something nice goes. Unlike you I was raised to help someone when I physically can. You were shelter from the world thats why your a spoild brat. Do you want me to spill what it was you did to my brother, or are you going to sit back down like a good girl?" Iris was now glaring at the pampered princess. Courtney like any other teenage girl that doesn't get her way, stomped away with a "Ahh!" I waved her finger at the child.

Chris walked in "alright campers time for your challenge. Both teams will complete one lap around the Island. The team that completes the race first wins. " Trent asked about breakfast. "Oh you will eat after the race. Ready set go!" He laughed as everyone ran.

Iris pov

It was a nice warm up but ,I doubt that this is the actual challenge. When we made it back to the mess hall a buffet was waiting for us. It was so beautiful I wanted to cry. Though something sinister is happening here. This is a set up so I'm not going to eat to much. I saw cranberries the kind you get on Thanksgiving and chowd down. It was refreshing everyone else asked why I wasn't eating anything but Cranberries. "Think about it why would they give us this food. It's a plot for the challenge. Trust me I want to chow down with all of you." I said making them shrug and go back to eating. Courtney was glaring at me. I think about it the guy that asked me the question was Duncan.

(Confessionals)

Iris started laughing.

"Oh she is a treat I will thoroughly enjoy this."

*Static*

(End of Confessionals)

"Hey Duncan can you step outside with me? This won't take long." I said standing up. He shrugged and followed me outside. Once we were out of ear shot I turned to him.

Meanwhile in the mess hall.

Courtney pov

"They have been gone for awhile. I'll go check on them." I said having campers telimg me to leave them be. Iris is a conveying snake you can't ever trust her.

"Hey guys what are yo-Ah!" I walked out to find them making out. I march up to them and pull him away getting in her face. She smirks at me. "Hello Courtney how can I help you?" She chuckles "You can help me by not macking on my teammate you snake." I growled

(Confessionals Duncan, Iris)

Duncan

"If she is a snake and thats her bite. Please bite me some more."

*static*

Iris

"*laughs* oh wow I was right she likes him. This is going to be a fun day for Duncan and me. He is on board with the plan. Obviously he is enjoying this too. *smirks* bey bey second place Courtney"

*Static*

Iris pov

Duncan stood between myself and Courtney crossing his arms. "I think you should run inside. You don't own me there four have no say in my actions." He said wrapping one arm around me. I place my hand on his chest the top of my head under his chin. I was side glancing at her. She growled stomping away. Once she was gone we bust out laughing. He picked me up bridal style carrying me inside. "This is mine no one else can have her." He said sitting me down at my seat we started to feed each other. "Can you two get a room?" Heather complained. "Can you get a new attitude." I said making her gasp.

Once the buffet was cleared Chris came back in. "Everyone ready for the awake athon!" I knew it and they say I'm a snake. "Wait so you had us eat all this food so you can see who will fall asleep first?" Gwen asked "Yes Gwen Yes I did" I laughed "oh that so evil its good." I said "Glad your finding this amusing lose lips" Courtney said "Hey they are open for you too." I wink at her. "Your disgusting " she said following Chris to the pit fire. I sat in Duncan's lap during the challenge to get on princess sunshine's nerves. Its almost night fall I'm about to fall asleep. Duncan puts his hand on my cheek "got to stay awake gorgeous. How can I look into those beautiful eyes if they are closed?" I giggle at the sickeningly sweetness. "Let her fall asleep at least I won't be second place. " Courtney said laughing "oh your second place in everything so shut up. " I said before glares at her.

Its now been twent-four hour mark. Come on stupid bass fall asleep. I thought to myself. It was now Myself, Trent,and Gwen for the Gophers and the Bass only had Courtney and Duncan. Once Chris started to read the history of Canada Courtney, and Trent fell asleep. Leaving Gwen, Duncan and me. "I have to hit the can" Duncan said as the camra crew followed him. Gwen fell asleep I was about to when Chris announced that the Gophers won. I smile before falling flat on my face.

• [The Killer Bass are standing outside of the cabins, stuff are outside due to Eva throwing them because she can't find her MP3 because Heather stole it.]

•

• Eva: [screaming angrily] Where is my MP3 player?! One of you must stolen it, I need my music! No one is going anywhere until I get my MP3 player back! [She angrily throws a book, which almost hits Harold]

•

• Courtney: Okay, whoever took it better give it up now before she destroys the whole camp.

•

• Heather: Hey, guys, wow, this place is a real mess.

•

• Courtney: Someone stole Eva's MP3 player.

•

• Heather: [holds Eva's MP3 player] Who don't mean this to you? [Eva is surprised that Heather found her MP3 player, which Heather actually stole it] I was wondering who it belonged to, I found it by the campfire pit. You must have dropped it.

•

• Eva: Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!

• Heather: Sure thing. [Leaves. Static buzzing, in the confessional] Turn a team against their own members, easiest trick in the book. (Static buzzing)

• Eva: [smiles sheepishly] So, sorry about the that little misunderstanding. [The Killer Bass glare at Eva] Guess no one stole it after all. Okay, maybe I overreacted a little. [Laughs sheepishly]

Iris and the Gophers watch the marshmallow ceremony of the Killer Bass. It was down to Alpha geek Harold and wack Job Eva. Both looked nervous until Chris gave it to Harold. Wow did not see that one coming. They threw away their strongest team mate. Welp looks like the Gophers have it even easier now.

Chris "you All can get some sleep tonight you all are safe for now. Find out what happens next time on Total Drama Island."

(Have I mention how much I don't like Courtney yet. Well I don't have a great day/evening)

#total drama leshawna #total drama island #romance #duncan #td courtney #oc #chris mclean #total drama #pain

8 notes · View notes

crystalwillow · 4 years ago

Text

Baby Carriages & Wedding Bells - Oliver x F!MC (Never Let You Go, Part Two)

So uh surprise! I thought I would have to finish this in the morning and it would be posted tomorrow but I’ve worked on it all day and have it ready for you all to read now. I hope you all enjoy it!

hugs, love and kisses

tyrilsnightbloom xoxo

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

The night was winding down as Oliver drove the two of you home after the premiere ended, as you looked over at Oliver your face dropped upon seeing that his brow was knitted together with worry. “Olly? What’s wrong?” you said with concern, worrying as silence followed your question but a little bubble of relief flowed through you when he spoke after a couple of minutes, “Hm? Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. It’s just... are you sure you don’t want to go to the after party? You usually love going to them.” He questioned as he focused on the road. You smiled and took his hand in yours, “I’m sure. I’ll be doing something tonight that will... be more worth it. I’ve been to dozens of parties and after parties. Tonight... tonight I just want to be at home. With you.” You spoke softly as you smiled at him, when he turned to steal a quick glance at you he smiled too. “I just want to relax with my soon-to-be husband and do face masks with him. Maybe drink this new all-natural ingredient hot cocoa I got to try and received in the mail this morning.” You beamed at him, leaning over the gearstick and pecking his cheek as you pulled into the drive way of your home. “I’d love to do that with you” Oliver beamed back as he killed the engine and took off his seatbelt. You looked at your front door and chuckled to yourself. “what?” Oliver asked as he opened the car door to get out. “Nothing. Just... remembering the first time you saw a car” you chuckled, also getting out of the car. Together you walked inside, and you tossed your bag onto the dresser by the front door as you kicked off your heels, returning to your natural height of 5ft 6”.

Oliver shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack before turn to you and gathering you in his arms in a tight hug. “Oof Oliver. Not too tight.” You chuckled aa he released his grip a little, smoothing your face in tender loving kisses. After his brief attack you took his hand and led him to your bedroom, he took a seat on the bed as you walked through to your en suite bathroom and picked out 2 face masks. “Can I put yours on you, honey?” you asked as you walked back into the bedroom, Oliver now pulling his suit pants off and standing in his boxer shorts “sure. Just let me put these away” he grinned holding up his dirty clothes. You smiled with a nod and got to work on undressing yourself, though it looked simple, the dress you wore tonight was quite tricky to work with. The part that annoyed you the most was the cape like element to it that was non-detachable. “Argh! Stupid dress! Would you jus-“ you started ranting to yourself but stopped when you finally saw the bedroom light again and a very smiley Oliver standing over you, your dress balled up in his hands. “Thank you.” You grinned and headed to your closet, picking out one of your long night shirts to wear in bed, grabbing Oliver a set of his pyjamas as well. Once you were both ready for bed you straddled Oliver as he laid on his back whilst you applied his face mask, engaging in small conversation, giggling and laughing. You then switched positions as he applied your face mask, deep concentration on his face. Once yours was applied you laid together looking at the ceiling, talking some more as your fingers intertwined between you. Soon you let out a small yawn, despite trying your best to suppress it and hide your true tiredness.

“Do you want to just go to bed after this? We can try the cocoa tomorrow”

“No. No, it’s okay. Besides, I have something that I want to tell you”

“You could tell me tomorrow.”

“No Oliver. I can’t hold off telling you any longer.”

“You have my intrigue.”

Oliver sat up on his side resting his head on his hand as he looked to you expectantly. “Well.... what’s got you so happy you can’t wait a moment longer to tell me?” he asked. You sat up to, suddenly the moment was very real, you were about to tell him something you kept from him for 3 months as you didn’t want him to be disappointed if you miscarried and you had no idea how he would react. “How about... we go make that cocoa and I’ll tell you in the kitchen.” You said getting up and stretching with yet another a yawn.

“Peyton. You’re tired maybe we should just sleep”

“No, please honey. Come with me.”

You pleaded with him as you slowly padded out of the room and down the stairs into the kitchen. Oliver took a seat at the island as you warmed some milk on the stove. You paced around anxiously, an uncertain silence hanging in the air, waiting for someone to break it. “Oliver? How would you feel if we were to start a family? Would you be ready to be a father?” you asked with your back to him stirring the milk, so it doesn’t catch and burn. “Whew. P, that’s a big question... I... I suppose I could see us with a child. They’d have my sense of humor for sure. Your eyes, the beautiful most emerald green. Like the jewel itself....” Oliver says as he trails off quietly mumbling to himself about having a child with you. “What would you teach them?” you asked as you started stirring the cocoa powder in the milk. “How to defend themselves of course! Oh, and how to play the perfect prank on you.” Oliver replied with a grin. You shook your head good naturedly with a small chuckle as you got 2 mugs from the cupboard and filled them with the delicious chocolate smelling liquid. “We need more soy milk now. I just used the last of it” you said looking around for the pad you write your shopping list on. “you mean there’s no milk for my cereal in the morning?” Oliver asked with an exaggerated pout on his lips which you kissed, immediately cheering him up. “There’s enough almond milk left for you to have your cereal. Quit the pouting.” You chuckled, taking a sip of the drink you had just made. “So what did you want to tell me?” Oliver asked. “Um. There’s a reason... to me asking you about how you would feel if we were to start a family.... I.. You um... I- I’m pr- .... Oliver... I’m pregnant.” You said, letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding as you finished your sentence. Oliver sat looking at you in shock, clearly not knowing what to say or how to react. His hot cocoa, now clearly forgotten. “Oliver....” you said with question and hesitation as you looked at him. “I... Um. Excuse me. Peyton.” He said, getting up and leaving the room, you turning your head to follow him to the direction of the door but decide it best, not to follow him. Rubbing your stomach you drank your hot cocoa and headed up to bed, willing yourself to sleep by convincing yourself that Oliver would be next to you when you woke up.

It had been 2 days since you had told Oliver that you’re pregnant and he hadn’t uttered one word to you since unless it was to ask where something was and the looks he gave you were small, barely there smiles as he left for work. You sat at home by yourself all day waiting for him to return in hopes that he would say something to you other than a question or a simple “Hello. I’m home.” As he hung his jacket by the door before he shut himself in his home office for the evening. You’d spent your time playing the piano gracefully and writing new songs. Your hopes were to get enough to make an album that you could put out as something for your fans to listen to. Just a project you could share with them. That’s what you were doing that evening when Oliver came home. You sat at the piano in the room just off of the living room as your fingers glided over the keys playing a simple but soft melody as you gently sang along to it with placeholder lyrics trying to figure out how it would go. Oliver called out your name, but you didn’t reply, just maintained your focus on your current state.

“Peyton? .... P? ....... Peyton, where are you? Pey-“ his tone became more panicked as he came nearer to you before stopping in the entrance of the room you were in, you felt his eyes on you as you finally sang a few lyrics that had come to your mind.

“... and it’s been two day since I last heard you laugh. But I guess that was the price I paid...” you sang delicately but scrunched your face up and shook your head. “No that’s not right either.” You muttered, going back to play the simple tune without singing. Oliver crossed the room and sat in the chair in the corner and listened to you play. Getting frustrated that you couldn’t find the words, you rose from the piano and headed to the kitchen to grab a drink of water and sit in the garden so you could refresh your mind. Even though you wanted Oliver to follow you, you hoped he didn’t. You were mad at him for not talking to you for so long, of course you understood it was a lot to take in but for him to not talk to you for two, now three days in a row was horrible. You felt like you lost him a couple nights ago when you told him. You feared the worst and that he was trying to search for a way back to the past so he could run from this. You sat staring into your fish pond, shaking your head and let out a small scoff before taking a sip of water, looking up as you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you.

“What do you want?”

“Hostility and snappiness. Expected.”

“hostility and snappiness. expected. ... well good! I hate you right now.”

“Peyton honey, you don’t mean that.”

“Don’t you tell me that I do and don’t know what I mean. I know perfectly well.”

“Don’t you think this is all a bit...”

“A bit what? Oliver. huh? A bit of an overreaction? A bit too much? No. No I do not. 3 days. 3 days now since you so much as uttered more than a goodbye at the door in the morning, 3 nights since I’ve been able to sleep next to you at bedtime and every morning I fear I’ll wake up and find myself here alone. Knowing that the last thing I said to you made you stop talking to me. I never thought of you as starting to show signs of behaviour like your father. But your hostile energy the past 3 days has drained me! I told you I’m pregnant with your kid and you’ve given me nothing but radio silence. So no! I don’t think this is an overreaction, I think this is perfectly justified.”

“.........”

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

“Peyton... Peyton I’m sorry.”

“Save it. I don’t want an apology. I’m not trying to guilt trip you. I want you to come and speak with me when you’re ready to discuss our child. Until then.. keep with the radio silence. I’m used to it by now.” You snapped as you got up and stomped passed him, going back into the house. “Baby please!” he pleaded following close behind you. But you ignored him, entering the cinema room and closing the door in his face, locking it in one swift action. “Peyton!” he shouted with defeat in his voice and he slapped his palm against the door. “Peyton, I’m not going anywhere until we’ve talked.” You ignored his pleas, turning on a movie and putting the volume as loud as you could for the hour of day it was. Eventually you needed to pee and as you couldn’t hear Oliver anymore, you assumed he had gone back downstairs to the couch. You unlocked the door, opening it and walked out, rolling your eyes when you heard your name being mumbled. “Peyton?” Oliver asked sleepily, as he sat up rubbing the crust from his eyes. You ignored him still, shutting the bathroom door and went to the toilet, rolling your eyes when you opened the door and saw him standing there, leaning across the wall. “It’s dinner time. You best order yourself something like you have been.” You said coldly as you passed him to head to the kitchen and cook yourself some food, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. “Peyton will you just LISTEN?” he said with a raised voice, making you jump a little at his tone. “fine.” You sulked. “Thank you.” He sighed

“I’m not saying I’m innocent. Far from it. My behaviour is inexcusable to be quite frank but you have to understand. What you said to me was a shock. I wasn’t expecting it. Yes 3 days without talking to you was irrational and uncalled for but I needed the time to reflect on things. It’s not easy being an 18th century man in the modern world. I’m still adjusting and thanking god for every day he gives me here with you. It’s been 10 years, yes. But I spent 25 of my years growing up and getting used to life in the 1700’s. I... it’s-“

“Oliver....”

Your hand came up and rested on his cheek and he lent into your embrace as your eyes locked on one another’s, both filled with tears. Emotion thick in the air as you stared at each other. “Look. I’m sorry for being hostile. It’s just. Your long silence was hurting me, and I reached my boiling point. It’s no excuse but...” you whispered as he softly pulled you closer to him as he lent back on the door frame of the bathroom. “You had a reason to be mad. And it was a valid one.” He mumbled with a small smile playing on his lips. “Can we just... move past this whole thing and get back to normal?” he asked. You wanted to continue being harsh and pull away from him, but your heart was telling you to forgive him. After all you love this man with all you have. You weren’t going to just throw that away over one rough patch. You gave him a soft chaste kiss before leaning your forehead on his and closing your eyes, enjoying the closeness between you that you had missed so much the past 3 days. “I’m sorry.” You whispered moving to rest your head on his chest, “I’m sorry too. How about I order food for the both of us tonight?” He whispered back as he hugged you close, and you nodded against his chest. In one swift motion he lifted you up with your wrapping your legs round his waist as he carried you to your bedroom and put you down softly on the bed and laid next to you, taking his phone from his pocket.

“What do you feel like having?”

“Anything.”

“Hmm.. Wait! What can pregnant women eat? Can they even have takeout?”

“Olly. Relax. Just get us some Chinese or burgers yeah?

“Okay.”

He smiled and kissed the crown of your head as you snuggled closer to him, enjoying his warmth. Whilst you waited for your food to arrive, you spoke about your pregnancy.

“So.. how long have you known?”

“Three months. I wanted to make sure I didn’t miscarry before telling you. I know you’d be devastated if that happened.”

“Oh.. wow. Now it makes full sense why you were so mad.”

“Yeah. Well. Let’s move on from that hey?”

“Yeah..”

“I love you, Oliver.”

“I love you too, P”

That night you ate together in your bedroom, watching TV and laughing at some funny animal and meme compilation videos. The thick tension that hung between you earlier, now gone with the wind and only love between you as you each stole adoring glances at each other with smiles, before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

---------- 5 months later ----------

You sat at home in the living area on a gym ball as you waited for Oliver to bring you some water from the kitchen, the both of you waiting for your midwife to arrive as you had gone into labor about 45 minutes ago and had chosen to have a home birth. “Water.” Oliver announced, grabbing your attention and you snapped your head in his direction. You graciously took it from him and sipped some through the straw before he took it from you, placing it on the coffee table. “How’s the pain? Still manageable for now?” he asked as he took your hand rubbing soothing circles on it. You smiled at him and nodded. Soon your contractions started getting worse and you dug your nails into Oliver’s arms, you were in the middle of gripping onto him to make it through a contraction when the doorbell rang. “WHO WOULD KNOCK AT SUCH AN INAPPROPRIATE MOMENT?!” you yelled, Oliver chuckled “Relax. It’s the midwife.” You let go of him so he could get the door. Screaming in pain again as he welcomed her into the home. “OLIVERRRRRRRRRRR!” he ran through into the room with his eyes widened and held onto you again, letting you grip onto him and stare into his eyes. “It’s okay, love. This will be over soon.” he soothed. “It better. It’s been two hours already! And it’s your fault!” you complained, howling out in pain as yet another contraction came, more intense than the last. Three more hours past and you were now on the floor, laying on towels with a pillow under your head about to give your final push and deliver your baby into the world. “You’ve done amazing beautiful. One final push. Are you ready?” Oliver asked, briefly looking at the midwife who nodded. “And push Peyton. Push! push! push!” he told you and you gripped his hand draining the colour from both of your knuckles as you gave one final push feeling your baby pop out and you let your body relax as you panted, Oliver wiped the sweat from your forehead with a cool washcloth before giving you small tender cheek kisses and hugging you whilst the medical personnel took care of your child before bringing them over to you, the midwife smiling brightly. “Congratulations mom and dad. You have a beautiful and healthy baby boy!” she exclaimed quietly as she handed you your child. You looked at Oliver with a new found fondness as he gently stroked the little amount of hair on your son’s head cooing quietly, “Welcome to the world little man.” He sniffled, the emotion of the moment finally getting to him as he shed a few tears and rested his head on the opposite side of your chest looking at your son, placing his finger into his tiny fist. “I already love you so much. I’m going to be the best father to you. Spoil you with so many gifts as you grow up you’ll be sick of me giving you stuff.” He mumbles as he lets out a chuckle through his tears. You look down on your soon-to-be husband and newborn son, smiling at them as a feeling of completeness washed over you. In all of your years on this earth you would never had guessed this is where you would now be. In a house with the love of your life who you had to travel back in time to find, only to have to leave him again and have him follow you to the future then willingly choose to settle down with you, in the future and essentially throw away everything in his life so far.. Everything felt surreal but it was perfect.

A few moments later everything had been taken care of and Oliver saw the medics and midwife out of your home as you got comfortable on the sofa cradling your newborn, looking down at his perfect face you smiled softly. “You definitely have your daddy’s charm little man. You’re going to drive the women mad when you’re a teenager.” you whispered to him as Oliver re-entered the room. “Well hopefully he’ll find a woman who is as beautiful as you and not settle for less than he’s meant for.” Oliver spoke quietly as he sat down next to you. You turned to him with a sleepy smile and tilted your head up for a kiss, which Oliver happily gave you.

“Why don’t you go and have a lay down upstairs? I’ll take care of our little one.”

“But we haven’t named him yet. Are you sure?”

“P. We can come up with a name for him after you’ve had a rest and got some food into yourself when you wake up okay?”

“Okay. Thank you sweetheart, I love you so much”

“I love you too my little cinnamon bun”

You giggled as Oliver gave you another kiss before you carefully handed over your son and headed upstairs to bed with a yawn escaping your lips. Sometime later you awoke to the sound of crying and Oliver desperately trying his best to cheer your little boy up as he neared the room. You sat up as they entered the room, suddenly noticing the wet patches on your top you realized your baby was most likely hungry. “Hey. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Oliver said with an apologetic smile as he stepped into the room. “It’s okay. He’s probably hungry. Pass him here” You said as you propped yourself up comfortably with pillows and lifting your top. “So. That’s going to be a thing now huh?” Oliver asked as he sat next to you, your child’s crying quietening as he latched onto you and started feeding. “what? Me getting my boobs out? You should be used to it by now.” You joked with a smirk. “Oh I am, just not for this purpose.” He chuckled as he looked back to you with something deep in his eyes.

“What’s that look for?”

“What look?”

“The look in your eyes. I’ve never seen it before.”

“Peyton. You know that I love you right?”

“Yes.”

“Well... I think you should know that I don’t only love you. I fucking adore you. So freaking much. I... I never thought I would find anything like what I have with you. I don’t want to go too deeply because it will ruin my wedding speech in a few week’s time. But please, Peyton. Know that I don’t only love you. But I adore you. So much more than you’ll ever know.”

You smiled at Oliver fondly as he took your free hand in both of his, lacing his warm fingers through your slightly cold ones. You looked down at your baby as he finished feeding and you popped your breast away, “Could you remove your shirt and burp him for me? I really need to stretch out” you asked Oliver who happily removed his shirt before taking his son back from you and burping him whilst you stretched out next to the bed. “Oop. Oh dear, sickies. We’ve got sickies mommy, can we get a cloth please?” Oliver asked in the cutest voice you’d ever heard come from him, you rushed next door to the nursery and grabbed a sick cloth bringing it back to Oliver. “Here you go babe.” You said handing it to him. “Thank you. Say thank you mommy.” He said again in the same tone as he looked at your son cleaning up the sick. “I’m going to go grab a shower, will you be okay putting him down to sleep?” you asked, “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Oliver said as he looked up at you with a smile which you returned as you gave him a quick kiss before disappearing into the bathroom. You were in the middle of enjoying the warm water when the bathroom door opened, and Oliver appeared naked. “Mind if I join you?” he asked. “No. come in. I welcome you.” you smile as you open the shower door for him. He steps in and immediately hugs you. But this isn’t like many of the shower hugs you’ve shared before, where you could tell he wanted something kinky. This hug was warm and caring, it was close and way more intimate than any hug before. “Did he go down okay?” you asked as you returned the hug, “Out like a light.” Oliver replied softly, as he kept you in his embrace and let out a happy and content sigh. You felt it too, the feeling that comes from the type of sigh he just let out. The two of you hugged in the shower until the water turned cold then washed yourselves before getting out and dressed in some fresh clothes, heading downstairs to cook dinner, Oliver grabbing the baby monitor on the way out of the room. After looking through the ingredients you have, you settle on making a tomato and basil soup, chatting with Oliver as you chop ingredients together. Once the soup is done, Oliver dishes some up into bowls whilst you cut the bread and put some butter on a small plate, placing them on the kitchen island. That night you both cuddle up in bed, ready to take it in turns on getting up through the night, more excited for your upcoming wedding than ever before.

------ 4 months later -------

Today is the day. The biggest day of your life. One you feel sadness from at the fact you can’t share this with the crew you got to know all those years ago but nonetheless you feel happiness as you’re finally moments away from marrying Oliver. Sticking to the tradition of not seeing you before the wedding, Oliver is currently at a hotel close to the church where you’re set to get married. You’re standing on a platform as the final finishing touches are being put to your wedding dress when there’s a knock at the door. “Oh. That’s probably hair and make-up! I’ll let them in.” one of the dress staff beamed as they raced in the direction of the front door.

“uhh. We’re lost.. we were -”

“We were walking through the market when we suddenly found ourselves getting up here. Wherever here is of course.”

“Oh well um.. I’m only here to fit a woman with her wedding dress but if you want to know what state you’re in currently. It’s New York.”

“New... York?”

“Yes, in America. New York, you know. ... Are you guys okay? You all look rather dazed perhaps you should- ... wait here please.”

The member of staff comes jogging back into the room looking rather perplexed. “What is it?” you asked politely making sure to only move your head in her direction, “There’s a group of people outside. They’re dressed rather oddly and look as if they’ve bumped their heads or something. They seem lost.” She says. You think for while and nod to yourself. “let them in and take them to the kitchen? Maybe offer them a glass of water each too. I’ll be through soon to see what they want.” You said and the staff member nodded. You heard the sound of heavy boots come into your house and thought it must be some building contractors as you stood having the final touches put to your dress. It felt like hours but really it was only a few minutes before you were being helped down from the platform to look at yourself in the mirror at your wedding dress. It was lucky you hadn’t had your make-up done yet other wise it would be ruined with the fact you just burst into happy tears. Today was by far going to be the most emotional day you’ve experienced. “I look beautiful. Just like Oliver said I would. Thank you so much Julie, you’re a saint.” You smiled as you turned and gave her a warm hug. She returned the hug before pulling away and handing you a tissue. “Just doing my job sweetheart. Now. You best go and see what those dazed people were doing outside your house.” You nodded as you suddenly remembered there were people in your kitchen and glided through stopping in shock at the kitchen doorway at the faces that stared at you. There was no way it was them. In an attempt to confirm your mind was playing tricks on you, you walked up to Jonas and tried to swipe your hand through him, wincing in pain when your hand connected to his hard bicep creating a slapping sound. “Oooowwww.” You winced as you shook your hand before going around the kitchen and poking everyone else. No. They aren’t here are they? This is just some sick joke. Some lookalikes, playing a joke on you. In what you perceive to be natural thinking, you grab a plastic ladle from the utensils draw and hold it in one of the women’s faces.

“State your real name and where you’re from.”

“uhhhh. Okay. My name is Charlotte Smith and I’m from Port Monarque...”

“LIES!”

“I’m not lying.”

“Prove it.”

“Your name is Peyton Bellamy. You sailed on the Poseidon’s Revenge with this crew for a while a few years back. Fell in love with a navy officer called Oliver, he followed you through the portal when you had to leave. Though we have no way of knowing if he made it to you or somewhere else.. the portal. I, along with Edward, sealed the portal for good. Everyone is, or well... should be, stuck in the times they are in. Which begs the question of why and how we’re here.”

There’s a silence following Charlie’s statement as you take time to absorb everything before a familiar voice sounds above the noise. “Not to interrupt the silence but your dress is very beautiful Peyton. Are you getting married?” a cheerful looking young girl asks, although you remember her looking a lot younger when you last saw her. “G-Ginny?” you asked in shock as if only now registering that it’s her. She waves with a smile and you move to hug her, your maternal instincts kicking in. “Oh, how are you? Have you eaten? The lady who let you in gave you water right?” you asked as you moved to a cupboard, pulling out your snack box and opening it. “Here. Help yourself to a snack.” You beamed holding the box out to her, “OOOO. Thank you Peyton.” She grinned as she took a snack from the box before you snapped the lid on and slid it back into the cupboard. “Peyton, hair and make up is here, darling.” Julie said as she walked into the room, stopping short upon seeing all the people in the room. “Okay. Thanks Julie, do you think you could fit in 3 last minute dress fittings at your shop? It doesn’t matter the style of the dress, just so long as they look gorgeous.” You beam as you shoo Maggie, Charlie and Ginny towards the door. “But what if I don’t want a dress? What’s even going on?” Maggie protests. “I’m getting married and I want you 3 to be bridesmaids and if you don’t want a dress, find a really nice blush pink suit or a jumpsuit. I don’t mind I just want you there.” You beamed and returned to the kitchen with your house phone in hand as you called your driver. “... yep. Perfect. Thank you Jack.” You hung up and smiled at the boys. “Oh no.” Jonas grumbled. “Jonas.” Edward warned earning an eyeroll. “You’ll be going to the hotel and meeting up with my groom. He’ll sort you guys with suits and stuff. But you’ll have to wait out front for my driver. I need to go and get my hair and make-up done.” You smiled and pushed them outside closing the door before rushing into the living room. The note you got through your door 2 months prior to this moment suddenly making sense. You were getting your old crew to make good memories with for 24 hours from the time they knocked on your door. You had no idea how the magic worked that sent you to the past or how it brought them to you today, but you were happy that they were here and that’s all that matters.

You’d been up since the crack of dawn and it was now late afternoon and time for the ceremony. You paced back and forth in your room nervous as you waited for someone to come and retrieve you and walk you down the aisle. To help calm your nerves you sang yourself a little tune, lost in nerves and song you didn’t notice two of your friends slip into the room. “Um. Peyton?” a soft female voice sounded, making you jump to attention. “Avery. Raleigh. Hey.” You smiled and hugged them before taking a seat, nervously fiddling with your hands. “How are you feeling?” Avery asked, her sweet smile you’ve always loved on her face, “Nervous.” You smiled back. “I’m excited for the reception.” Raleigh commented, “Yeah. Only because you’ll finally be able to drink some beer.” You teased with a chuckle and he held his hands up in mock surrender as another figure appeared at the door, knocking loudly. “It’s time.” They said. Avery and Raleigh smiled at you before giving you a quick hug and heading back into the main room. “Are you ready my dear?” your Aunt Penelope asked you. “I’ve been ready since I met him Aunt P” you beamed, taking her arm and walking beside her to the doors. As you listened to the music playing on the other side of the doors, your aunt turned to you. “You know. Your mother would be proud of you Peyton, and she’d make sure every soul on earth here today knew it. I know as you’re up there today she’ll be looking down on you, smiling her beautiful smile and cheering you on. ... Oh, come here lovely.” She said as she pulled you into a warm embrace. “Aunt p. you’re going to ruin my make-up before I’ve even set one foot down the aisle.” You joked as you dabbed some tears away carefully. Soon the big doors opened, and you set off down the aisle towards Oliver. As you moved closer to him, you took a look around at all the faces surrounding you, there to share and witness one of the happiest days in your life. As you looked at Charlie, Maggie and Ginny you had to stop yourself from crying at how beautiful they all looked as they gave you a small wave, which you returned. You had to hand it to Julie, she was the best at her job and the 3 women who had arrived only hours before were living proof of how fast she could work her magic. Soon you found yourself face to face with Oliver, who looked at you with tears in his eyes and he lent towards you. “You look stunning.” He whispered in your ear, warmth laced in his voice. As the priest stood in front of you and Oliver the music died down and everyone rises from there seats to hear the words of welcome and introduction

“We welcome you here today for the ceremony that will join Oliver Cochrane and Peyton Bellamy together in Holy Matrimony. They will spend their lives together wed in love and companionship, creating memories to carry them through this life and into the next. Now, would anyone like to say a few words before we move onto the exchanging of vows?”

“I do!” Ginny’s voice popped up as she raised her hand, she stepped forward as the priest took a step back from the podium.

“Uh. Hi everyone! My name is Ginny and I’ve known Peyton and Oliver since I was about 9 years old and I’m now almost 21. I just want to say that there couldn’t be two people who are more deserving of each other than these two. They’ve been through a lot together, especially when they first started seeing each other. I know there were a lot of fights in those first few months, but it led to them being one of the strongest pairs of people I know. I just want to wish them the happiest of luck in there years together going forward from today. I know their time together so far has been full of joy and some... in hind sight very... stupid fights. But their love has and will outlast it all.”

She steps away from the podium and back to her spot within the bridesmaids and the ceremony carries on without a hitch, just the occasional grumble from your baby boy. That night at the reception things are going smoothly and Oliver has just tapped his glass to give a speech and all eyes are turned in your direction. You smile up at Oliver as you cradle your sleeping son in your arms as he starts speaking.

“I just want to start by thanking everyone for getting here today to share this joyous occasion with myself as well as my beautiful wife, Peyton here. ... I have never really been one to be fond on speaking of my feelings and affairs of the heart. That was until this beautiful young woman came into my life 11 and a half years ago that is. I started getting sentimental a few months ago when she gave birth to our son, Colton Oliver Bellamy-Cochrane. As she was giving him his first proper feed, I was telling her... I was telling her about how I don’t only just love her but, I adore her. I wouldn’t go into too much detail because I didn’t want to ruin my speech today but now that today is here... Peyton Bellamy-Cochrane... I adore you more than the stars adore the galaxy, the way you smile even when you’re having a rough day when I make goofy faces or pinch your cheeks. Your giggle to your full-on belly laughs where you end up rolling on the floor from laughter. It lights up my whole world brighter than any past relationship of mine has. You’ve pushed me to become a great man, to achieve more than I would have, had I not met you. You.. you’ve given me a family, a beautiful home, a heart full of love and a brain full of beautiful moments that I’ll cherish forever even after I leave this world. I was never one for opening my heart to others and baring my soul, but you took on that task and I’m glad you did. Because it made I, Oliver Bellamy-Cochrane.... the luckiest man in the whole galaxy as I stand here today with you as my wife. Thank you for being so persistent and ..... just, thank you. A toast. TO PEYTON!” he smiles with adoration in his eyes as he looks down at you, happy tears spilling out of your eyes at his beautiful speech and he passes you a napkin. “Thank you.” You sniffle and dab the tears away as you gently rock a grumbling Colton in your arms. Oliver sat down and lent over giving you a tender kiss on the lips before whispering in your ear.

“Technically we’ve been together for 228 years, but I’ll digress and keep that a thing between those of us who know hey?”

You giggled at the playfulness in his voice before carefully leaning forward and locking your lips together, but it was short lived as you heard heels approaching you, so you pulled away from each other and looked up to be met with a smiling Ginny. “Hey. How’s the happy family?” she asked, crouching down so she’s eye level with the two of you. “We’re..” you said looking at Oliver, “We’re doing amazing. Thank you Ginny.” Oliver smiled. “I’m glad you have a happy ending here Oliver. I know you had a rough time with your father but it’s clear you wanted him here today. Just know, despite whatever his morals were, he’d be proud of his son for making such an important step in his life with someone he loves. Because he will always love you Oliver no matter how twisted his version of the truth was.” Ginny says sympathetically. “Yes. Well.. Thank You Ginny. You’re a great kid.” Oliver smiled softly ruffling her hair. “Hey!” she laughed as Oliver laughed with her. There was a short but comfortable silence. “Could I hold him?” she asked you pointing to Colton, “Sure, grab a seat!” you exclaimed calmly, remembering not to wake him. Oliver got out of his seat. “Here take mine.” He smiled and Ginny thanked him before sitting down. You carefully handed him over and smiled as Ginny cooed quietly over how cute he is as she looked at him. “Why don’t you guys take a break and go share a dance or something? I can hold him for a while” she smiled at the two of you. You exchanged looks with her as if to ask if she was sure and she nodded eagerly. You thanked her and then headed to the bar to get another orange juice with Oliver, snuggling into his warm embrace as you waited for the bartender to be finished with other patrons at your wedding.

“You know... today turned out to be pretty great. We got our old friends at our special day after all.”

“Yeah, I’ll never understand how the magic works but.. I’m grateful it gave me you. The best husband a woman could ever ask for. My own prince charming.”

“then I guess that makes you some kind of Cinderella huh?”

“Oliver!” you giggled as you playfully shoved his chest.

It was extremely late when you got home that night with Oliver, Colton and your friends. You let them borrow some clothes to sleep in knowing you had until almost noon the next day with them so you could all at least enjoy a nice hearty breakfast together. Sleep came easy for your guests and yourself. Oliver had insisted you just sleep and let him take care of Colton when he needed something as he had moved to being bottle fed, due to not being able to latch onto you properly for mealtimes.

The next morning when you woke up, you were met with the sight of Oliver on his back and your son fast asleep on his chest. Not daring to disturb the peaceful scene you carefully got up and made your way to the kitchen starting to cook up the biggest fry up of your life for your guests. You were halfway done when some sleepy people walked into the kitchen clearly following the smell of food. “Morning Kendrick, Jonas.” You chimed with a grin but just got waves back, you gave them each a cup of coffee. They sleepily accepted it, drinking the warm liquid. Soon everyone except Oliver was in the kitchen enjoying your cooking, excitedly chatting over how amazing the flavors were and how they wish they weren’t on limited time so they could enjoy more food of the modern world. Whilst they chatted excitedly you slipped off to your bedroom, smiling seeing the scene was still the same. You gently lifted Colton off of Oliver’s chest, causing him to stir and look at you.

“Hey.”

“Hey honey. You go back to sleep, everyone’s having breakfast, but I’ll save you some and leave it in the microwave for later. Thank you for staying up with him last night. It means the world.”

“Anything for my beautiful wife.”

You smiled at him as he spoke in his deep sleepy tone, bending down to give him a small kiss before taking Colton and settling him in his crib in the next room, then coming back and chuckling to yourself as Oliver was still pretty much in his full suit. You could tell he was too tired to get undressed himself so you carefully removed his trousers and unbuttoned his shirt so he wouldn’t strangle himself, covering him with the duvet as you pressed another soft kiss to his temple, he smiled sweetly in his sleep and mumbled something that sounded like “mmm love you” so you whispered an “I love you” back before heading out of the room with the baby monitor in hand and went back to the kitchen. “Will Oliver be joining us this morning Peyton?” Ginny asked with some hopefulness in her eyes. “I don’t think so. He was up all night with Colton so I could get some sleep myself. Now it’s my turn to take over and let him rest. It was a long night too, so he won’t be up much before 4 this afternoon.” You explained as you plated and wrapped up food for him. “Oh.” She said with disappointment. “Why? What’s up?” you asked her. “It’s nothing. Not really. I just wanted to give him this.” she said as she presented a small-ish box on the table. Looking confused you slid the box closer to yourself and opened it. “Ginny are these?” you asked looking at her. “His father’s medals? Yeah. I don’t know how they ended up staying in our time, but I saved my spoils for months knowing they were in a certain shop. I just got lucky that nobody else wanted them and they stayed in there for so long. Could you give them to him for me?” she asked hopefulness in her eyes. You smiled at her, “Of course sweetie. I’m sure he’ll be eternally grateful. It’s a thoughtful thing to do.” You said softly, leaning across the counter to give her a hug. Next to you, Charlie cleared her throat, “We’ll be leaving soon guys, I can feel it so if you want to say goodbye...” She said sternly to hide her emotion as she tilted her head towards you. Kendrick was the first to reach you. “It’s been a long time since we saw each other lass but being able to spend the last 24 hours with you and Oliver was a gift. Congratulations on everything.”

One by one your friends all said goodbye to you, until the only person left in the kitchen was Charlie. “Charlie?” you asked, she took a moment before turning to you. “I’m glad he made it to you love. It’s great you two got your happiness like you truly deserve and to see that he’s such a care-free man compared to his father. It makes me feel foolish for judging him in the first place just because of the type of person his father was. And... congratulations. To both of you on everything. I’m proud of you.” She said with a bitter sweetness to her tone. “hug for the road?” you asked. She hesitated momentarily before embracing you tightly briefly before walking to the kitchen door. “Goodbye love” she smiled before disappearing round the corner, you followed them to wave goodbye, but they were already gone. Now feeling bittersweet yourself you went back into the kitchen, clearing the dishes away before grabbing the baby monitor and walking to the living area to watch TV not daring to wake Oliver.

Later that night you were preparing a bottle for Colt when Oliver sleepily walked into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes and yawning. “mmm. hey gorgeous.” He mumbled snaking his arms round your waist, kissing your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder. “Nice sleep?” you asked him and got a nod in reply. Oliver cuddled you as you fed Colton and he woke up properly. Once Colton was settled, you stood in the kitchen with Oliver making 2 mugs of tea. “I guess the other’s have gone?” he asked softly, you just nodded before remembering the box Ginny gave you. “Ginny left these for you. Felt like you were meant to have them.” You said giving him the box along with his tea. He picked the box up frowning but his jaw dropped when he opened the box and saw it’s contents. “These are-“ he said, and you just nodded as he looked at you. He suddenly teared up. “She’s such a thoughtful and great kid. I hope she finds a love that pays her properly. If anything bad happens to her and she’s not protected..” he said tensely. “Hey.. babe relax. She has Jonas AND Kendrick to watch her. Not to mention Edward.. he wouldn’t let anyone harm a single hair on any of there heads.” You reassured him. He nodded putting the lid back on the box and drinking his tea. After an eventful evening you settled in bed with Oliver after putting Colton to bed and watched the night sky out of the window as you drifted slowly to sleep, knowing that no matter what, you had Oliver with you for the rest of your life. He was going to be by your side with you in everything, the good, bad and gosh darn ugly. He was going to be there for you through it all, just as much as you were him. That and the fact you had a son to raise together which you were ready for, you would protect him with your life, the only part you were dreading was Oliver teaching him to pull pranks on you when you were least expecting it.

#playchoices #choices stories you play #pixelberry #pixelberry studios #pixelberry choices #choices fanfiction #pixelberry distant shores #pb distant shores #choices distant shores #distant shores mc #distant shores oliver #oliver cochrane #oliver the lieutenant #oliver ds #lieutenant oliver #oliver x reader #oliver x mc #oliver x f!mc

9 notes · View notes

the-curse-of-fantasy · 4 years ago

Text

Hateful Love - Chapter 1 (Draco Malfoy)

Draco had his chin in the palm of his hand as he was staring at the empty spot opposite him at the Slytherin table. That spot would normally be filled with a girl.

A girl with long, jet black straight hair and beautiful sea green eyes that would change to a dark forest green if she got angry. She had no blemishes and hardly any scars on her face, she had a few freckles scattered along her skin but they were hardly noticeable. Her skin was always glowing clear and was smooth to touch. Her smile seemed to be perfect and bright, as well as infectious to a few people. She wasn’t short, she was average height with a beautiful figure. Curves in every right area. Nothing too visual under her robe which had always seemed to be slightly too big for her hands.

She was as clever as the devil and as twice as pretty. Everything she does comes from within. From dark impulse. I guess that’s what makes her so thrilling to watch. So dangerous. Even perfect at times, but also so damn destructive. She will not dance on edge with you. She’ll push you off then jump with a smile on her face.

Do as she says, and your life might just be spared.

She may look like your ordinary Hogwarts student but there are some dark secrets behind those sea green eyes and her bright smile.

If you were one of the idiots that thought this girl couldn’t cause trouble then you have thought wrong. She is heartless, cold, deadly, troubled, violent, chaotic, destructive, mischievous and sinned.

Don’t underestimate her. She may be 5ft 5 and have bright sea green eyes, soft and smooth skin, an adorable laugh, a strong and smart mind, small and delicate hands, a cute smile and a soft voice when spoken but behind all things small and wonderful is something so much darker.

Her height of 5ft 5 somehow made her seem intimidating to others if they crossed the line, those outstanding sea green eyes could turn dark and burn into anyone's skin with distaste, her adorable laugh would change into a chuckle that had “chaos” written all over it, her strong and smart mind would be used to her advantage and she would shatter every piece of their ego. Her small and delicate hands would become heavy and strong if she needed to fight. Her cute smile would twist devilish and behind it you could see that she was planning something mischievous and her soft voice would turn harsh if she raised it.

She could be mean as heck, sweet as sugar, evil as hell, cold as ice, or loyal like a soldier. It all depends on you. You are either on her side, by her side, or in her way. Choose wisely. She came into the world screaming and kicking, covered in someone else blood, she has no problem going out that way. The more silent she is, the more dangerous she can me. She came from hell, returning is like a family reunion.

She has flowers in her hair, demons in her head, adrenaline in her veins, madness in her mind, love in her soul and a storm in her heart. She will mess you up with no hesitation. She is a whole bunch of hot psycho. No one in Hogwarts would dare look at her the wrong way.

She’s just a little girl with a crazy attitude, and a desire for aggression.

Bailey was sat in the small, abandoned and cold cabin in the middle of some thick woods. She was sat at the breaking table with her chin in the palm on her hand and her eyes on the life outside the shattered window. A small cut on her lip, a cut on her forehead and bruise on her cheekbone from a previous fight she got into.

She looked away from the window and down at the letter from Hogwarts which was from a certain boy with blue mesmerising eyes and hair white as snow. The letter read;

Dear Coleman,

I know your probably no where near done, but I needed to write to you. I needed to make sure you’re okay. Well, I need to know that you’re alive. I couldn’t think of a world where your not here. You were never suppose to mean this much to me; I was never supposed to fall so hard. But you know what? I did, and that's the truth, that's what keeps me holding on because it hurts like hell trying to let you go. I just wish you were here so I could tell you how much I need you and how hard everyday has been without you.

There’s a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t like you as much as I do but... I can’t think of one. I don’t want to. It hurts me the most because I know we won’t be able to be anything other than enemies. We’ve been brainwashed to hate each other but... I guess there’s something stronger than manipulation. Please, stay safe, be careful out there.

- Malfoy.

Bailey shook her head slightly as she let out a shaky sigh and swallowed a lump in her throat. She picked up a piece of cream coloured paper from the dusty and rubble floor and straightened it out on the table. Bailey grabbed the closest object to write with and started writing her letter in response. She wrote a few single sentences that would break his heart. She didn’t want to break his heart or hurt him in any way. Once she finished writing the last word, she dropped the utensil on the table and folded the letter. She slid the paper into an envelope and walked out the room and towards the fire place. She grabbed a piece of string from the mantle piece above the crackling orange fire and looked down at her dinosaur bone and meteorite ring which was plated with silver. She twisted it around her middle finger before tugging it off with a bit of struggle. She laced the ring onto the string and tied it at the end to form a loop. She put the make-shift necklace into the envelope and pulled the sealing flap down.

She grabbed an orange candle stick and crouched down in the floor before dropping the letter onto the pile of dust. Bailey glanced at the burning fire before she reached her hand out to touch it. An ember landed on the palm of her hand and before Bailey could hiss in any kind of pain, a single yellow flame was in her hand. She held onto the candle stick with the hand with the flame and waited for the end to start melting and the wax dripped onto the seal of the envelope. Once there was a decent amount of wax on the paper, she dropped the candle stick and ripped a charm off of her bracelet and pressed it into the wax to seal the envelope. After a few seconds, she pulled the charm off and tossed it onto the ground before her thoughts got interrupted by the sound of glass smashing coming from the kitchen.

Bailey grabbed the letter and hesitantly stood up as she started cautiously walking towards the kitchen. Bailey looked around before putting her hand on her Blackthorn wood wand, ready to draw at any danger. She hesitantly pushed open the door to find an owl with the feathers of an autumn sunset, flying around, knocking over glasses and cups.

Bailey-”Dexter”

It looked at Bailey until it came in contact with a wall and fell to the floor. Bailey rolled her eyes while taking her hand off her wand and walked over to the owl.

Bailey-”What am I going to do with you?”

The owl stood up onto it’s feet again and spread it’s wings. Bailey smiled slightly and ran her finger down it’s body. The owl carefully took the letter from Bailey’s grasp and flew out the window and went on it’s way to Hogwarts.

Back at Hogwarts, everyone was still sat in The Great Hall, eating breakfast. Only Draco seemed to notice how long the day’s have been. How tired he’s been getting from the day’s dragging on. But, no matter what, he could never get a good nights sleep. He was always bothered by something. People were engulfed in conversations and it was like no one even remembered Bailey existed. They got taken away from their socialising by someone pointing out the owls flying through with the mail. Everyone looked up with their hands out, waiting for something to be dropped in front of them. Ron and Hermione got their usual mail form their parents and Harry borrowed Ron’s standard newspaper.

Seamus-”Hey, isn’t that Bailey Coleman’s owl?”

The golden trio and the students around them looked up at the gorgeous coloured owl gliding through the room.

Harry-”What’s it doing here? She never get’s mail. Ever”

Ron-”Maybe she’s delivering”

Hermione-”Everyone here hates her. Who would she be delivering to?”

Ron shrugged his shoulders as he looked back at his letter and Hermione and Harry mirrored his actions. Draco got taken aback when the owl landed in front of him. Draco took his hand away from his face and hesitantly grabbed a hold of the other end of the envelope while the owl gently let go of the paper. The owl flew up into the air and followed the rest of the owls out of the castle.

Draco looked down at the paper and carefully opened it. He pulled the folded paper out of the envelope and unfolded it to read. His eyes were full of joy but that quickly changed when he read those few single sentences that broke his heart.

Dear Malfoy,

The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained. One day, this pain will make sence to you.

- Coleman

He swallowed a small lump in his throat as his body ached. He felt sick to his stomach as his chest tightened. He looked around The Great Hall and to his luck, he saw no one looking in his direction. He was happy that no one could see the pain in his eyes. He went to put the letter back in the envelope but felt something inside. He pulled the string out and on the end saw Bailey’s ring she’s worn since she was five-years-old. The ring was a prize possession. It was the only thing left of her fathers. The only thing she had of his, to remember him by, was now in Draco’s hands. He twisted the ring in his fingers a few times before closing his hand around it and letting out a shaky breath.

________________________________________________________________This is Part 1 of a short story I’m working on. Again, I’m writing this with 1 follower. Which, I was very excited to receive so, thank you! Uh, if you would like to read this, then please do and tell me if you like it, lend tips if they are needed. I’m currently working on Part 2. This is not a requested piece of work, this is me writing out of pure boredom and letting my mind run wild while I type random words and hope they develop into something. I hope you enjoy it and have a good day.

Bye!

#draco #dracomalfoy #harrypottter #magic #witchcraft #wizardry #cursed #curse #wolf #danger #deadly #hermionegranger #ronweasly

3 notes · View notes

renaer-is-allegedly-hot · 4 years ago

Text

session 7 notes

again . i have no pity for the formatting .

OK WHEN YOU'RE IN COMBAT

Roll a d20 to attack

If you're using a weapon +5, if you're not +3

IF YOU ARE USING

Dagger (20 ft reach)

1d4+3 damage

Shortbow (80 ft reach)

1d6+3 damage

Shortsword (5ft reach)

1d6+3 damage

And then you add sneak attack ONCE PER TURN!

2d6 added to damage

Alrighty here we go

Jacob's gonna dm a broken sink one shot

Halfway through offtime, freetime

We went back in time

Have been getting used to living w each other

Tensions starting to build bc different living habits

A week and a half into downtime, downstairs for breakfast

Before kitchen was set on fire

Halflings are cooking bc I said it was funny

We have a fridge

Cel opens the fridge, investigation check

There's half a carton of half and half, two eggs, jar of jalapeno sauce jelly (or is it jalapeno sauce and jelly?), half a loaf of french bread, four potatoes, onion

Dip bread in the egg, mix w half and half…savory french toast?

But the sink is clogged

Cel is taking the food out of the fridge, theo is making the vegetables and cel is doing the french toast

Theo is making a dexterity check, cel is doing a wisdom check

19 and 4, respectively

Cel forgets what french toast is or forgot the basic steps so scrambles the eggs and puts them on top of the bread like eggs benedict, now it's toast w eggs on top + perfectly diced potatoes

We probably have an oven we have an oven

Theo sticks the potatoes in the oven

Has passive insight of 9

Puts potatoes in a little too long, come out a lil too dark

Throwing jacob for a loop bc he's not using the sink

And we didn't wash the potatoes

Asyna and Aerana

Asyna was sleeping, aerana comes back from a walk

Asyna walks downstairs, aerana busts down the front door, take a deep breath and it's burnt potato skin and scrambled eggs

Surprisingly appetizing

Dm will probs let it happen

We eat breakfast, asyna says it was good

The potatoes were a little burnt - we roll constitution checks

None of us r poisoned

Now we have four dirty dishes

Cel tries using the sink, water comes out

Sink starts to fill, cel turns off the sink, water just below the top

Grinder next to it

Sloshing water, kinda gross

Asyna proposes turning into a fish to swim down

If she dies in this it's fine

Turns into a good fish

Turns into a newt

"do newts have legs"

They breathe through their skin

Tb to that one episode of wild kratts

Yeets in as a newt

Barely fit in the drain bc apparently newts r kinda chunki

Rolls a 12

Actually got an 11

Squeezes in the really tight sink drain

Halfway through it's pitch black but lizards have darkvision so

Halfway down hits a fuzzy black mass

That's . Icki

Water barely trickling through it

"can I shove it with my strong newt arms"

Makes asyna want to sneeze

Asyna is gonna make a nature check

Rolls a 7

Can tell it's kind of like a plant

"can I eat it"

"do you want to"

Takes a nibble

Constitution saving throw w lizard stats

Gets poisoned w an 11

Except we don't know she's stuck

Now has disadvantage on all rolls

Feels terrible

"you bite into this fuzzy mass, and it's super, super bitter"

"there's so much that you take a big bite - damn you are really poisoned now - you did take out a solid chunk" but there's enough that it's still clogging

Tries climbing back up

Makes acrobatics check w disadvantage

9, gets halfway back up the drain, poison really hits n kinda bloats, makes her stuck

Moans

The mold was at the curve (we don't know it's mold tho), halfway in between bottom curve and top is where marguerite is

Stick ??? Wire ?? String ???

Sleight of hand check, you roll 14

U shove it down and u hit smth and u hear a noise, wedge it in between the side of the wall and the newt, start inching back up, eventually we see a tail poke out of the drain

Bright orange newt

Animal handling check, you roll an 11

But u pull her out

Asyna leaves the sink then turns back into a non-newt

She's still poisoned

Asyna knows it is black and fuzzy n smth similar to a plant

Cel runs nature check w advantage

19 cel is like yeah that's black mold

Using a stick and poking aggressively, theo is

Dexterity save, 23

Shoves mold down, toothbrushed the drain and pulls it out

Looks like a stick w a black marshmallow at the end w a bite taken out of it

"I was trying to help"

Sink has been successfully unclogged, asyna is poisoned, our fridge is empty and everyone ate unpeeled potatoes

Dom's turn

Snuck into residence trying to sneak around groundskeeper n stuff

Lots of dead ppl lying about

U know what would b fun a dnd campaign but make it criminal minds homebrew lmfao

We're in g10 on the map, can still hear fighting upstairs

We've only been in g7 g8 and g10

Adam is holding vicious mockery and stealthily opens the door for g6

Total of 20 for stealth, appears to be a pantry w spices n jars n preserves, against far edge is a barred door from the inside

Two servants inside who r dead, older human male and a younger halfling

Adam closes door, tries not to throw up, opens door and slightly investigates bodies

Medicine check - 16, looks like stab wounds; older human dressed more finely, younger wearing an apron

Both r v dead

Door barred from jacob's side, he gets us into the room, we all go in

Cel looks at the barred door; heavy plank of wood placed over to keep it from being opened

Aerana rolls 21 perception check, you don't hear anything but sounds like it could lead to the street

Adam is gonna peek into g5, door opens without trouble

Just a kitchen, large fireplace w space for a big pot

Pot is empty, nobody's in the room

On to g9 we go, ppl draw their weapons

Asyna and cel go to g9, adam cel and aerana hang out in g8

Aerana knows that it gets foggy and rainy in waterdeep in the spring, you start to hear heavy rain from outside

Room is furnished for comfort, lots of dainty chairs n lounging sofa, wine cabinet, paintings depicting different humans in noble attire, two more dead bodies in the room that look like guards

Asyna and cel don't recognize any faces

Upstairs we go?

Nope theo does g11 adam does g12

Theo goes in first, door is locked

"haha lockpick time"

Door is made out of wood

Puts ear to door to listen for anything, rolls 6 for perception

Doesn't hear anything

Now will pick lock, 11

Doesn't open lock

Adam tries kicking the door, 13

Can't open the door

Gets a bruised shoulder jk a bruised toe

They go to g12, it's a cozy library w tall bookshelves and wooden panels

There r tomes

Adam checks out the book on the lectern

Theo goes back out to let us know what they found

Adam sees a locked book, looks like it could be a wizard's spellbook but not sure

Picks it up, takes it

10 for intelligence; there's a symbol similar to the one on the bodies of the guards like a coat of arms

Comes back and tells us he found the book

Theo tries lockpicking

Rolls a 22, opening it in g8

Opens the lock, first page has symbol

Says 1,239 - 1,422

What does it mean jacob will roll intelligence

Rolls an 8, doesn't know

Second page is all black

Adam holds it up to the light, feels cold or like coal ?? Falls out and gently floats to the floor

Splits into three pieces

We roll for initiative

Cel has nat20

17 for asyna

16 for theo

12 for adam

Aerana has a 9

Piece of paper falls to ground, splits, from the three they melt into the floor but then become a taller form and swirl around in grayish smoke, they look like ghosts, v skinny n purplish w long claws

"hey there demons, it's ya boi"

Cel goes first w shsw, hacks the closest one

Doesn't hit, monster is making strange gasps things, kind of reaches out to strike, hits, 14 damage lmfao

Halved her hp, makes constitution saving throw

14, swipes at her and hands pass through the armor, feels drained

Asyna is gonna try to turn into something guess it's a badger

Attacks the one that's closest to asyna, rolls 15 to hit and rolls a 12, both hit

Rolls d6 and adds 1 and 2d4

7 damage for one, 7 damage for other

It's like ur trying to hit smoke

Theo will hit w shsw, 17 to hit, 4 to damage

Lashes at same one, swings shsw and connects but feels like not injuring it that much

Adam makes all of them make charisma saving throws, 18 14 and 2

One of them disadvantaged but not at a disadvantage they just have to subtract a 1d4

Uses cutting words on the other least damaged ghost thing

For next attack have to subtract 1d6 from roll

One lurches forward to attack theo but misses

Aerana deals 18 damage to closest one to you that hasn't been hit yet

Strikes and it spins around, almost gets out but u hack at it and sword passes through part of it but comes back together

Other guy tries to hit aerana, 11 misses

Cel does shsw again, 18 to hit, 7 damage

Our current attacks are dealing half damage

Other guy doesn't hit

Asyna goes, rolls 14 and 6; 14 hits and deals bite with 7 damage

Theo rolls 16 to hit, 8 damage

Frenzy kind of fight, everyone in melee

None looks more hurt than others like difficult to tell

They're hovering

Adam rolls, sees cel p damaged, heals cel a little bit to 16 hp, healing is a bonus action so vicious mockery on one of the ghosts

survives

Other guy goes while jacob pees

We're in g8 and coming down the stairs we see a man drenched in all different kinds of blood with a shortsword, short dark hair, human, runs down and wearing a dark armor reminiscent of the zents, makes an immediate left at the front door and runs away into the rain

Oop adam the guy rolled a nat20, somehow the other guy is getting damaged ? Wait I'm confused ok ig so

13 damage and jacob gets OHHHH it's a reactionary fire thing bc he's a tiefling

Guy does 23 damage and adam is down

Adam has to do a constitution saving throw, 17, adam falls unconscious like he's fainted

Aerana rolls 17 to damage

Deals a really heavy blow to one of them and it almost vanishes to nothing but then comes back and reforms

Misses attacking me suck it

Celandine casts cure wounds for adam for 8 hp

Other guy attacks and misses

Badger!asyna time

Uh is it bad that I just . Haven't mentioned groot . And that groot should still be there from last session . Oopsi

Anyways badger!asyna rolls nat20 for one and 2 for the other

Picks bite or claw, doubles whatever is rolled for dice, rolls 9 so is that 18 or what ? Ig it doesn't matter for me

Goes for the one closest to her so the one attacking cel

Solid bite attack

Theo's turn, 22 to hit, 8 damage

Adam wakes up, has other guy make wisdom saving throw w 11, needed a 12

2 damage and it has disadvantage on next attack

"danny phantom more like danny phandumb"

Sends it reeling w a mental attack

Rolls and misses to hit adam

Aerana rolls and kills it with 13 damage

Brings shsw up to get it out of face, appears to be too much for it to take, gasps and recedes to floor then dissipates

Cel's turn w shsw, 6 and does not hit

Other guy doesn't hit either

Badger!asyna rolls 9, doesn't hit, 13 and hits w claws, w 7 damage

Yikes didn't kill twas close tho it's v weak but not dead yet

We notice three guards dressed in the same attire as the dead ones downstairs and they also just straight run out the front door

Theo hits with 7 damage

Kills one of them, slashes and almost does a decapitation but it just reforms bc it's a ghost and then it melts into the floor

Just the one left

Adam's turn to roast it, misses ig, healing words self

Ghost's turn ig, doesn't hit

Aerana rolls 13 to hit, 8 damage; close but doesn't kill (no sneak attack)

Cel's turn, misses

Badger!asyna rolls 19 and 8, both hit; roll for damage, 6 damage

Kills it w claw and smashes it to ground as it fizzles away

The book is open, no other black pages in the book; closes the book and adam puts it into his knapsack

No sound of fighting upstairs

Let's go upstairs w asyna going first ig

Badger lumbers up stairs but it's awkward bc claws were not designed for this

A lot was happening in g13 but now it's like most ppl r dead upstairs

Turn to left w door directly in front left ajar, pushes it more open

Goes into 15a, hears a shout "the city watch is on the way !!" from area g16 but pushes into 15a and sees a small antechamber like a repurposed closet space

We're all in g13 now

Adam is gonna walk into g16

Doors are closed but he's able to open them; two occupants w an older middle-aged human woman w a breastplate carrying a rapier standing next to a half-orc bodyguard in center of the room - looks like well-furnished bedroom

They see him and r staring at adam

"hi . I'm adam . Uhm . These r my friends . We saw a couple of guards and a really bloodied up man in robes run out of this building and we were concerned for its occupants"

Attempting to persuade

Rolls an 8 and it's a bad lie but she's bad at reading people

Has a few daggers and a small crossbow and can see he has it

Puts up rapier and screeches at adam to disarm self

He sets ukulele on floor

"there is no time for jests ! Disarm urself, sir !"

Picks the ukulele back up

"did u see where that thief went"

"I just saw him run out of the building"

"we're all great citizens of waterdeep we just want to make sure ur ok"

Half-orc gives adam a look that could shatter a vase

As we turn to leave, we hear sounds of sobbing inside area 15b

Theo will knock for asyna

Everyone is in g16 except for theo and asyna

Hears sounds of sobbing and then they stop and you hear a voice "no please don't hurt me"

"we're not here to hurt u we just want to make sure ur ok"

"alright ?? Am I alright ??? My life is in dAnGEr"

"adfsjkdfa I'll never tell" mans is a burbling mess

Theo rolls persuasion check at disadvantage, 9

Man says he's armed and will kill if they come in

Back to g16

Cel disarms, u disarm shsw and shbw but keep dagger hidden

Look around the room, looks a little bit in disarray; there's a window w shattered glass and it's raining

U can tell that the window on the far north wall has been shattered

Noble woman tells us to sit

Adam asks if we're in trouble

Adam looks at us then the other ppl

Adam casts pyrotechnics and smoke bombs them, 20 ft of smoke hitting them and we run "beat it guys"

Originally we arrived here bc naya led us here, we're looking for the owner of the necklace

There's smoke in the room just kidding jacob undoes pyrotechnics

Doo do dood o dood o do do do do do doooooooo do do do od ododo dod o do dododo dod o do dod o do do do do

The jeopardy theme song as dom re-summarizes

Ok w that in mind guess we gotta figure out the owner

Back to the other room, there's more sniffling but maybe he needs a therapy!badger

"would u happen to b missing a necklace"

Pause and he goes "necklace ? Well I never"

Insight check, nat1; hard to tell if he's telling the truth or not

Door is locked from the outside

Theo asks if he needs help getting out "nO ur a beast"

Try lockpicking again w thieves' tools check

D20+ proficiency + dex modifier

Gets a 20, picks lock; inside is a bed like a smaller guest bedroom, can hear sniffling behind the bed

"sir we're not here to hurt u . Do u recognize this?"

Theo shows him the necklace, asyna is still a badger, trying to look cute

Making a performance check, gets 14 and tries best to look non-threatening but the balding human man w a rapier in his hand screams when he sees badger!asyna

Theo rolls for persuasion check

Rolls a 6, gets sense it's not someone who's going to respond

Maybe badger!asyna will try to intimidate

Cel realizes the lady is one of the people in the painting

"the lives of my soldiers, the integrity of my home"

"and what about a necklace"

Insight check, flash of shock across her face but she regains composure

We take our weapons back and back out of the room

Badger and theo try scaring with theo making an intimidation check w advantage from badger, rolls 17

Groot survived combat !! I'm gonna make groot bite the dm smh you can try me I'll keep getting dogs as a side quest

Theo says badger is hangry and is threatening w the hangry badger!asyna, theo is standing on the bed

Man immediately drops rapier and starts crying and pleads for his life

"please pls u wouldn't dare I'm crying" OOP THE WOMAN WAS DEALING W THE PPL TEA PUPPET WHERE

Bro the stone what wait

We just want info

Here's what we got

Smth abt half a million dragons

Smth abt the zents fighting the xants

Smth abt being involved w the zents but his wife specifically

Smth abt giving the necklace to "the puppet"

Theo asks abt the puppet

"that's the problem w these stupid things they think for themselves I heard it blew up half a street accidentally" was supposed to go after the gnome but missed

Takes theo's hand "pls u can't kill me I'll tell u - what do u need"

Tells us we gotta go the house of grinda or smth in the dock ward for the puppet

Gains his composure and leaves from hiding behind the bed, takes a piece of paper w a well-done sketch of a strange being

Looks like a contract w a guarantee of quality for a construct

"pls it looks like this don't kill me pls"

Theo takes the paper

We stand up and go from g16, badger and theo see we had left, adam shuts the door

Theo apologizes to the guy

Adam casts sleep on the dude just in case

Makes him sleep w 26, we leave

We look outside and there's a bunch of torchlight by the gate - citywatch ? The inspector is there investigating a murder or disturbance or smth

We book it out of g6 into the street on the opposite side of the mansion

Raining a lot

We walk/speedwalk away, adam makes a general wisdom check for nearby taverns

The yawning portal is in the trades ward, we're in the north ward or we're in the sea ward

We're in one of the wealthy wards

It's raining so much that we have disadvantages on stuff

Are we ?? Riding the badger ???

Could be ridden by halflings ?

Theo and cel ride asyna

We're walking to mirt's ig

Stopping point ? We're dealing w mirt's house next session

We learned some weird info abt the puppet

Oop we're roleplaying that just theo bc asyna is a badger

His wife had business w the zents, they sent the order for the puppet and theo has the plans

And that's that ig

The stone might b real 0.0

"it is truly springtime in waterdeep" w the fog and the rain

Oh we level up ig

#sn #7 #mn #dnd #d&d #wdh #this is a lot #of #breathing

1 note · View note

fox-mother · 5 years ago

Text

Of Crimson Hair and Blind Eyes

She heard the tools rattling on the trolley long before she heard the soft footfalls. This was never a good sound, no sound down here was a good sound she’d learnt. If anyone made a noise down here, it usually meant more pain. The sound came to a stop and a barked command was issued, demanding they get her out of her cage. For that is what this was, a cage. It measured 5ft by 5ft, a box of a cell barely big enough to house the short female inside.

The bars were roughly opened and two large, calloused hands gripped her upper arms, dragging her from the relative safety of the box. She didn’t fight, she had no strength to anymore. It was easy for the men to get Kushina into the room requested by the doctor, the only room that has light in it, not that she’d know that of course. She was strapped down- an unnecessary precaution- before the two men left the room and the doctor to her own devices. The doctor was not a patient woman, immediately tearing off the bandages around Kushina’s eyes like tissue paper, uncaring of the pain it caused the girl.

The doctor stared uncaringly at the burnt, bloody mess that was Kushina’s upper face. Despite her best efforts, it hadn’t healed and it was beginning to become an issue. She ignored Kushina- who was whimpering- and grabbed a bottle of disinfectant, opening it and pouring a large amount of the liquid into the open wounds. This elicited a scream from the Uzumaki, who arched away from the liquid as much as she could, not wanting any more pain. Frustrated, the doctor grips her chin and yanks her head back to empty the bottle onto her face.

Kushina sagged down after a few seconds, having fallen unconscious from the pain. The doctor took the chance to apply new bandages before barking an order to the men stood outside, demanding they take the unconscious Uzumaki to a different room. Today, they’d be giving her the fox. Uzumaki Mito was too weak to hold him any longer and even though Kushina was mentally and physically damaged they had no other choice. It was her or risk the fox getting free. They knew what was best for Konoha, even if it wasn’t the best for the girl.

----------------------------------X----------------------------------

It had been months since the transfer. It had gone smoothly, no hiccups. The elderly Uzumaki had been forced to give in and seal the fox in his new vessel. She was now buried and the new vessel was stood in the training room, blank white bandages hiding the horrific scarring that had blinded her. She wore black, a hood that hid her crimson locks from view. She’d been trained to move, to react, to the sound of a whistle like a dog. They’d wiped her clean to start again, erasing all but the faintest memories to keep her sane. Complete removal would be enough for the fox to take over, they said, so she had just the barest knowledge of who she was and her life.

The whistle sounded and she was off, already halfway across the room like a bolt of black lightning. Her opponent today was an unfortunate captive of Konoha’s who had no idea what to expect when a blind girl ran at him with a kunai. He was permitted to fight back, to defend himself and if he someone was able to cause her to bleed then he’d be free to go. Their fight was brief and bloody, with Kushina coming out on top. She’d slashed his throat and blown his head off with a well-placed paper bomb. Discarding the kunai next to his corpse, Kushina turned and walked away, using the sound of her footsteps to keep track of where she was in the room.

“He was lacking... I had no fun...” She murmured as she passed the Jōnin that was set to look after her. The man quietly followed and made no comment, only reaching into his kunai pouch to produce a Rubix Cube once they’d arrived at Kushina’s “apartment”. It was little more than 4 small rooms; a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living area but it was enough for the redhead to get by with. Kushina extended her hand for the cube and once it was placed in her palm, she wrapped her fingers around it and shuffled to her couch. Once sat down, she leans forwards, elbows on her knees as she idly plays with the cube.

“What’s the sun like, Hatake-san?” Came a shy question, posed to the silver-haired male that stood by the door. Her face slowly turning to face the sad-faced Hatake, who quietly walked over and knelt down. He shouldn’t be doing this but when a girl like this was asking such a question, his heartstrings were pulled for all the wrong reasons. “It’s warm, Kushina-chan, warm and bright. It feels nice to be outside when the sun shines, it makes you happy,” Sakumo told her softly, holding her shoulders in his warm hands, “One day, you’ll know what I mean. You’ll one day feel the sun on your skin again, I promise.” He was rewarded with a small but bright smile, an imitation of the very topic of their discussion and chipper reply of, “Okay, Hatake-san!” before she returned to her puzzle.

----------------------------------X----------------------------------

Is this what you wanted, Sakumo-san? Kushina thought bitterly as she stood at his graveside, the warm sunlight heating her skin as she respectfully bowed her head for him. She shouldn’t be here, she shouldn’t even be able to get outside but her guardian had left her a key to get out whenever she wanted. She hadn’t understood at the time why he’d done that but now she knew. Kushina could hear the sound of the man's son crying from beside her, he had no one but her for company. Slowly, she reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder as a sign of comfort. He didn’t shrug her off but he didn’t move closer, which Kushina was fine with. She doesn’t know how she’d deal with him hugging her if he tried.

“Kakashi-kun? How would you like to come with me? You’ll have a place to sleep, food to eat... You won’t have to worry...” Kushina mumbled softly, stumbling over her words as she carefully selected the right ones to use, “I-I knew your father... He took care of me and now... I want to repay my debt. If you’ll let me?” It was an odd offer to make to a child and Kushina winced at her wording. She could have said that better. Nevertheless, despite his reservations about the creepy young woman, Kakashi accepted her deal with little more than a small nod and an affirmative noise.

----------------------------------X----------------------------------

Weeks passed and Kakashi settled in well, adjusting to his new guardian's odd disappearances. Kushina did her best to make sure he attended school, got him new training stuff and even was able to get him a dog. He realised that she couldn’t see him and so he had to become more vocal even going so far as to teach himself braille so that he could communicate better with her. The day of his promotion to genin, Kushina risked taking him out for an early dinner at the local ramen bar. She had a good time, listening to him recount the day's events to her like he always did.

She was unaware of the presence of one Namikaze Minato at the very same ramen bar. He’d been looking for years to find the rambunctious girl from Whirlpool but to no avail. Eventually, he had to give up his search to pursue his shinobi career. Recently promoted to Jōnin and feeling pretty good about himself, he’d decided to indulge in a bowl of ramen. While enjoying his food, he overheard the conversation between the silver-haired boy and the female sat with her back to Minato. It made his brow furrow in concern for the boy and he set down his chopsticks to go over and talk with the woman about pushing her child so far.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” The blonde asked politely, catching the immediate attention of the redhead, “I don’t think you should be pushing him so much... It can’t be healthy for a boy his age.” This caught Kushina off-guard, making her turn her head to face him directly, unaware of the lock of crimson hair that had escaped her hood. Minato did see it however and his eyes narrowed at once, suspicious. After a short and tense chat between the two young adults, Kushina turned back to Kakashi to finish eating.

Before Minato left, he darted his hand out at lightning speed to yank the hood off her head. He watched in shock as waves of crimson hair fell from the article of clothing, brushing the floor with the length of it all. Kushina gaped for just a second before she stood sharply and snarled, “What the hell?!” Reaching over the table, she held her hand out for Kakashi and the two stormed out, Kakashi stopping her for just a moment to pay before they took off down the street. Minato merely stared after them in shock, realising that he’d just found the girl he’d been looking for after all this time.

#(Written Words: Drabble)#(Of Crimson Hair And Blind Eyes: Weapon!AU)#[This here folks is a new AU I teased a few days back]#[I wrote this for shits and giggles]#[It does contain a small amount of blood among other things so be careful if you decide to read this hot mess of a drabble]#[It isn't perfect but I haven't the braincells to give a shit anymore]

2 notes · View notes

xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years ago

Text

Eel River Inn (4/?)

In the morning, Bucky wakes to the sound of an Underwood typewriter clacking away and the smell of coffee. If it weren’t for the soft bed, he might have thought he fell asleep in the company Clerk’s tent again. But there weren’t gunshots there was only muffled swearing as you banged away. He smiled a little, Ah, the artistic process, he thought. So majestic. You groaned and he heard a soft thud that sounded distinctly like a forehead on a desk. It’s going well, he snorted.

He followed the sound down the hall, running his fingers through his hair and yawning, “Doll?” he said, nudging the door open, “You okay?” Your answering groan makes him chuckle as he leans against the door frame. You’re holding a cup of coffee and looking like you’re about to throw the typewriter out the window. The early sun is shining on your hair like a halo and you’re wearing a t-shirt and panties, a pencil behind your ear and a riotous mane of hair fall past your shoulders. His own grumpy and rebellious angel. You turn and look at him, your lips curling in a soft smile, “Did I wake you?” He crosses the floor to you, looking around your office, “I could have gone back to sleep. Clicking Keys and some swearing won’t keep me awake, I slept through worse in the army.”

You nod and pull him down for a good morning kiss, you taste like coffee and he sighs, “You taste like heaven,” he says huskily, “is there any more coffee?” You nod, “In the kitchen next to the fridge.” Bucky kisses you one last time and brushes hair out of your eyes. You look so beautiful all sleep rumpled and rosy-cheeked. He leaves you to your work and heads downstairs. Your house is cozy. He didn’t spend too long sightseeing last night but now as he sips his coffee, he’s curious. He looks at the framed photos. You with various teams. One where you have a lab coat. One where you’re lighting a cigarette with a torch with grease on your face. You look too young to even be smoking in this century but it suits you somehow. You look half feral. He wonders what you studied. He wonders why pictures seem to be missing, there’s a gap noticeable only by the length of your hair. He wants to know why you’re a writer that doesn’t seem to have spent much time writing before recently. He hears your feet on the stairs and he tried to look nonchalant but you’re smiling and it’s knowing. It makes him blush.

“You’ll never in a million years guess what I studied in college,” you tease. You smile at him over a fresh cup of coffee and he cocks his head, looking from you to the pictures, “Something with grease,” he guessed? You smile, “Next-gen mechanical engineering.” you tell him. Bucky quirks an eyebrow, “No shit?” You laugh, “Nope,” you say, “Been working on a proper solar sailor out in the barn for the last 5 years... it helps break up the writer’s block.” The look on his face, trying to play it cool but internally screaming makes you giggle. “Gimme a minute to put on pants... and some shoes. I’ll show you.” Bucky doesn’t know what a solar sailor is. He doesn’t really care. But he wants to see it. He wants to put together your puzzle.

He follows you upstairs, watching as you pull on clothes. Torn jeans and a black t-shirt. Sturdy work boots. He pulls on his own clothes and pulls you into a slow kiss, “I always liked smart girls,” he says smiling. You grin, “You ain’t seen nothing yet, handsome.” You take his hand and lead him to the barn. It’s unassuming. Bucky had thought it was just a storage shed. A place where you kept a lawn mower and maybe some old junk. He didn’t expect what he saw when you rolled the doors open.

It was a fully functional workshop. Nearly on par with Stark’s. You pull levers and counterweights release, lowering the skeleton of your Solar sailor to the work table. It looks like a surfboard with a sail on it. The fabric of the sail glitters with tiny golden sequin looking things and he looks at you in askance. “I really loved the movie treasure planet as a kid,” you say shrugging. Bucky smiles a little, he doesn’t know what that is either but you’re looking at your creation with pride. “What does it do?” he asks. You smile up at him with a look that just screams “trouble”. “It flies,” you say, “Or at least it will. Maybe another 300 odd hours of fabrication.”

Bucky tilts your chin up and kisses you, “So, this all begs the question... How do you go from Next Gen Mechanics to Young Adult Author.” He’s smiling until he notices a flicker of uncertainty in your face. The woman who spills neuroses and insecurities on paper as characters in a story is hesitating to tell him. He waits patiently. God knows there are things in his past he doesn’t want to tell you.

“That is a very long story,” you say softly. “I got time, baby,” he says, kissing your forehead. You nod, turning away from him, going to your work table. The soldier pulls up a stool and folds his arms, watching your hands. They’re aimless, seeking distraction. But he waits until you find your voice. “I always loved science,” you say. “I was fascinated by it. By the idea that we put a man on the moon with less technology than I had in my gameboy. That I could make those things if I had the plans... I started with shop classes and shit. Moved on to robotics. Studied everything I could get my hands on.” Bucky smiled a little. He could see that. A cute little girl in a baseball cap covered in grease under a car, gleefully tearing it apart to see how it worked.

“I skipped a couple grades, and my high school trig teacher slipped me a flyer one day. Something for a bot battle. So I put a crew together, me and a couple dumb asses from my shop class you know? I just needed them to lift shit really. Lift shit and look scary. I was all of 5ft tall and about 100 pounds with a backpack on... And 15. Having some muscle on my team didn’t seem like a bad idea.” That made Bucky chuckle. You were still small but there was about a decade of lean lithe muscle packed onto your frame. He’d felt it when he’d carried you to bed. “So we went. And we won... And we kept winning. Scored me a full ride to MIT. At least in theory.” You reflexively grind your teeth, “My funding got pulled about halfway through but I stayed the course. I pulled out loans. A lot of loans.”

“So when the government think tank offered me a job, I said fuck yeah.” you snort. “First thing they did was pay off my loans. All 150,000 worth. Like that. I should have known better.” You sigh and glance at Bucky, “I was barely 21. They offered me money, good money. More money than I was gonna make anywhere else. More money than I knew what to do with after growing up on welfare and free school lunches.” Bucky wants to wrap his arms around you but he doesn’t. He stays still and waits. The story is about to take a turn, he can feel it. It hurts already and he doesn’t want to know.

“They wanted results. Weapons. Defense tech. Anything they could get. Anything we could make. It was merciless. Endless. And I couldn’t take it. What they didn’t know... What I didn’t know. Was that the mood shifts I’d been self-medicating with Adderall and nicotine gum weren’t just a personality quirk. It was an unchecked bipolar disorder with a dash of ADHD and generalized anxiety thrown in for fun. When I dropped my basket I didn’t just drop it... I lit that shit on fire and laughed.” You chuckle darkly, “I’d been awake so long I hallucinated a giant purple weasel named Terry... That fucker still owes me $50 for surviving jumping off the catwalk railing.” Bucky tenses, an old instinct to kill rising. They’d trapped you and drove you to insanity. The fucking bastards.

“Turns out, unbreakable contracts break pretty easy when you lose your mind,” you say shrugging, “And I’m not the only one... I spent two years getting put back together. Some of my team is still locked up.” You swallow hard and take a deep breath. “The books came later. Shit I hallucinated. Shit I wanted to read. Anything to keep my mind occupied when I couldn’t sleep. An old teacher of mine sent some of the stuff I’d written to a publisher after I talked to her about it and here we are.” You smile a little and look up at him uncertain and shy. Scared. “If you want to run, I wouldn’t blame you. My life is a mess.”

Bucky stands slowly and holds his arms out, “Sorry, Doll,” he says, “If you think a mental break down is gonna send me running you got another thing coming.” When you close the distance between you he hugs you to him and kisses the side of his head, “I spent the better part of 70 years a brainwashed assassin,” he murmurs, “There’s nothing hiding in your mind that could possibly scare me more than the things I don’t quite remember.”

#Bucky Barnes #Buckyx reader #soft bucky #angst #mental illness

15 notes · View notes

k-spiracy · 6 years ago

Text

Human Error || 1

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (F)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Action/Adventure, Thriller/Horror, a little salt bae pinch of Mystery

Word Count: 7k

Significant Tags: Killer!Jungkook AU; Assassin!Y/N AU; Enemies to Lovers AU; Mafia!BTS AU; College! AU

Summary: “There was only one way in and out of there, and someone else just occupied the exit.”

Warning: PLEASE DO NOT READ if you are sensitive to graphic descriptions of dead bodies, or the mention of rape and/or abuse, which is present in a snippet of this chapter.This work is completely fictitious. In no way do I intend to romanticize murder, assassination or any other criminal act. Please do not associate violent themes with BTS or any member. This AU is based off a popular twitter thread from jung_kkuu.

Author’s Note: THIS IS MY FIRST FIC! YAY! Writing this story took me a long time for personal reasons and it took a lot of courage for me to finally post after countless proof reads… Anyways, I hope you like the story! Give Me Feedback!

Chapters: | Index | 01 | 02 || cr.

Death always seemed to work in mysterious ways. Admittedly, that phrase was meant for God, but in your profession, there left no place for heavenly deeds. You could never put yourself anywhere but the middle ground between good and evil, doing what both of those high powers did, which was ending a life. Though their ways may or may not have been painless, life and death were like the difference between a river and a stream, and water is water.

Your job was what separated those two things and spread them thin beyond the belief that death was strictly a divinity. Humankind was convinced that they are the supreme being, making you a mere pawn to the man-made game of survival, a silent terror in the dead of night; an assassin.

Tonight was one of those late nights, technically the early morning, as it held a quiet promise. The sky was overcast, hiding the little flecks we previously called stars—by now, completely artificial, as humans discovered how to preserve the earth and the universe as we know it, just before the peak of demise.

Echo was your field name, a perfect description of your work: nothing more than the whisper of a cry heard out many miles, many minutes after you’d already left. You were quiet, to say the least. You took your time with every kill, preferring to get to know a person before ending them. Strolling through their house, (be it getting through an upstairs window or simply the front door) looking through their pictures, their life, to try and get an understanding of why they were about to die.

See, you learned never to ask questions, only to take the money even if the person in question did not deserve it. Most times it was better that way. At least, it’s what kept you alive and into the profession.

A small click sounded your success, and an open window after it, as you took a cautious step inside the house. The floors and stairs were wooden, both extremely risky if the house turned out to be pretty old. Though it didn’t seem so, you still wouldn’t take any chances.

You look around. The room you entered was a modern kitchen; grey and barely lit with cool undertones. There was a room to your immediate left with flickers of dim white light portraying someone’s shadow moving back and forth, a stairwell ahead, and a little room to the back right of the kitchen. A cracked doorway at the top of the stairs catches your eye, and the desire to explore consumes you, but you did not plan on him being awake.

You’d always studied your targets, where they go, what they eat, whom they talk to but that was all with the help of social media; phone cameras. This one was scheduled to have been in bed for approximately two hours, thirty minutes and six…seven…eight…seconds ago. Of course, it was nothing you couldn’t handle, but you still felt relieved that you chose the fire escape instead of the front door.

You gauged the distance between your side and the opposite, calculating the perfect time to cross. The archway of the room was significantly large, but his pattern of walking showed stability. So as soon as he turned his back, you made a run for the other wall and pressed against it.

You carefully poked your head around the corner. Here, you could see the man clearly: pacing back and forth holding a phone to his ear, while speaking in tones of hushed anger. The whispering tipped you off.

Someone else was in the house.

You scanned him and his surroundings, noting an elevated heart rate, (most likely due to anxiety) but otherwise healthy vitals. His profile, Jung Hoseok, age 24, blood type A, standing at 5ft. 11in. was marked for deletion. He was handsome, with brown hair and hooded eyes, and he wore a light green t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. The room, however, had an irregularly placed china cabinet, all of his curtains closed, and bank statements on his coffee table dated from two days ago. Hoseok pauses. You look away. Static fills your ears.

“…saw something.”

Hoseok is coming your way and you have nowhere to hide. His hand grips the crown molding just centimeters away from your head. You hold your breath. He passes you, heading deeper into his kitchen before glancing at the spot where you used to stand. You watch him from the shadows of the staircase, taking notice of something he didn’t. As soon as he turns back into the living room, you see it again, a quick flash of red light speeding by his head.

“Mission comprised.”

Suddenly, a target appears in your line of sight. “Execute and evacuate immediately,” it said, before dissolving into pixels.

You watch Hoseok cautiously. He was already on edge, but now you were too. Your new mission lay at the top of the stairs. Had it not already been your intention, you’d have been worried by the sudden change of course. Nonetheless, you ascended the steps silently. At the top of the stairs, there were three doors: two on either side and one that was already open in front of you. It was your first choice.

As you entered the bedroom, you noticed the open window directly across from you, the wind blowing the curtains however it pleased. There was also someone in the bed, tangled beneath the tousled grey sheets fast asleep. A woman.

As usual, your curiosity led you to the bedside table on the opposite side where a picture frame stood. Hoseok and the sleeping figure were in it. Upon further inspection of the room, you found nothing particularly incriminating and got ready to leave, when you kicked a metal box. The woman did not move. Your ears strained for minutes in case the man downstairs heard, but there was no response.

Your attention returned to the box. In it, a pistol, two rolls of money, and a questionable substance. It seemed as if both the placement of this box and it’s contents were out of place. Could Hoseok have left it there?

Something didn’t seem right. You recall the tiny blink of red, just before climbing to the second story. Your hand takes on a life of its own, face draining of color. It grabs at the silk sheets and pulls them away, revealing the woman. She rolls toward you at the movement of the sheets, her naked body on full display. She wore a necklace of bruises, dark in contrast to her otherwise pale white skin. Her hair was matted to her face, her lipstick smeared, and two of her red nails broken. In her previous spot, there was a dark wet stain that explained the glisten on her lower stomach.

You sweep away the sweaty tendrils from her face. Upon doing so, her profile appears and your target list reduces back down to one.

You back away, slightly confused; disgusted, to say the least. It wasn’t as if you didn’t feel for her in that pitiful state, but something else was at play. Was this the reason why Hoseok was your target? It did not make sense. His character did not show any signs of malice. Maybe he was just that good of a liar, but everything seemed…staged.

It had only been seven minutes so far, but the night already seemed so long. You had to get out of there quick. Your hands reach for the blade strapped to your thigh and take it out.

Creeping down the stairs, you were now prepared to kill. It was quieter than usual, despite the growing static. You wait at the bottom of the stairs for three beats when you hear nothing. Then, you whip around the corner and into the room expecting a struggle, except Hoseok is no longer pacing back and forth, but on the floor with a bullet hole in his head. You reach towards your mask in hopes to scan him, when you hear footsteps approaching.

Another message appears as you crouch in the small space behind Hoseok’s sectional. Your targets have been successfully terminated, but that is all the mask can show you: a status of death. It doesn’t know that you didn’t cause it. What it can pick up is your increased heart rate, so the mask alerts a different software to scan the area for possible threats, and sure enough, a heat signature appears on your radar.

The footsteps are a heavy, rhythmic drum against the cold wooden floors, getting intimidatingly closer with every passing second. It seems they are heading for the living room, possibly in search of you. You peek your head over the couch and weigh your options, frantically searching the four walls for any means of escape. You find none. The curtains could not be opened without giving you away, and not only that, but you’d have to jump out the window. You were six stories up.

There was only one way in and out of there, and someone else just occupied the exit. Their gait rang loud in your ears, those vibrations steadily rumbling towards you and then stop abruptly. You cradle your knees closer to your chest. For a second, you realize you stopped breathing and take time to carefully fill your lungs without alerting whomever it was sharing the room. You did not want to take the chance of looking at them, so you wait and listen, tightly gripping your knife.

The silence is literally mutilating your ability to rationalize. You’ve never been in this situation before, what would the boss think? The head of your organization was a strict woman, she had no tolerance for mistakes. You wonder if she’d be furious at the failure of the mission, most likely demoting you or maybe even worse.

For the sake of yourself, you decided not to imagine being back out on the streets. And just in time, because the sound of a click and a loud thud knocks you out of your previous thoughts. It has to be a gun, you think, as the long scrape of metal on the wooden floors send goosebumps racing up your arms. The person takes agonizingly slow steps, now in front of the TV, as you can see from their growing shadow. You cling to the blade, your back flush against the couch. A gloved hand reaches over the cushion, and you quickly slam your feet on the wall and push using all of your strength.

The sectional moves back with a bit of difficulty, but the person loses balance and falls forward, landing hard on their stomach. You stand and punch them off the back of the couch, toppling a few throw pillows as you jump over it in pursuit. Their knees give way to Hoseok’s coffee table and you take the chance to immobilize them.

It truly was a gun you heard. An assault rifle, to be exact. The sight of it dropping from the person’s hand while they fell confirmed it, and now, you straddle them with one hand firmly holding their shoulder as the other presses your knife to their throat. You that they must be an assassin, what with the black attire, gun and mask. They struggle in vain, caught under your weight in a near backbend against the low wooden table, as your knees dig hard into their flexed biceps.

“Don’t move!”

Your voice resonates within the empty condo, echoes returning back to the living room. You feel some semblance of victory as you reach for their…bunny mask? But the sound of a door opening distracts you. Your head turns towards that direction, and the assassin frees their left arm, pushing you off of them in the process. You land on your butt with a grunt. The assassin whips their head towards the sound of multiple footsteps, moving only to swipe their gun and run towards the lone window in Hoseok’s living room. You scramble to get up and chase after them, but the window is open and they are gone. Still, you follow to see how they landed the tall drop, but there is no one to be found outside.

You turn to see people in white gather in the room. Clean-up Crew. Some look at you with the same confusion you wore on your face, as you should’ve been gone by now, but the rest go about their business unbothered.

One of them walks towards you.

“Y/N, since when did you use guns?” You look up to see your good friend Namjoon inspecting the corpse before casually stepping over it, and then strolling over to your spot by the now-closed window.

“I don’t.”

You leaned back against the glass with your arms folded, replying without meeting his curious eyes. He takes a place beside you and waits for you to continue to talk as he knew you would, always eager to get out of work, what with his clumsy tendencies.

You sigh. “I was set up.”

“But that’s not possible, the system always—”

“Obviously there is some sort of flaw in the system if someone else was here for the same kill, and me too.” Your mind goes back to the interaction. You could’ve died in that instance but that person, whoever it was, ran away.

“I’m just lucky my gut was right,” you say, pausing for a minute then pressing on. “And my mask, of course.” You remember that you were still wearing it, and with a wave of two fingers to your temple, it turns off. Your mask is holographic. To others, it looks like a pair of red visors—only needed to cover your eyes, since your balaclava does the rest. Without it, The Crew would not have been notified, and you did not want to think about what could’ve happened.

“There must be a logical explanation for all of this.”

Namjoon was a technical man, even more so than you. He liked to know every possible outcome of a situation, but when something happens that his brain can’t calculate, he desperately searches for a ‘logical explanation’

“Enlighten me,” you quipped, ready to hear what he had in store, all while prepared to correct him at the same time.

He starts with only a breath before you rudely interrupt in a mocking tone. “The system is encrypted! It couldn’t possibly have been hacked and we wouldn’t have sent you out if we knew it was a double kill.” You glanced at him. He was not amused by your goading. “But then, considering that the other person tried to kill me,” you exaggerate a shrug before asking, “What else could it be except..?”

You’re waiting for his answer with an expectant look when he speaks up. “Well—”

A buzzer sound comes from the depths of your throat and Namjoon shoots you a glare. “Whatever you were gonna say, it’s wrong.”

“You didn’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“No, but it’s not one of your crazy ideas.”

Namjoon thinks back to the time he actually considered magic as a factor. From then on, you always took the chance to tease him. He sighs. “I was going to say that it could be an inside job.”

You opened your mouth then closed it. Your mind never leaped beyond the suspicion that it could be a rival organization after you.

“What, you’re not going to correct me this time?”

“No… No. Actually, that sounds about right.” You turn your attention to the Cleaners, currently scanning the room. A thin blue holographic line makes sure to reach every corner of the room, paying extra attention to Hoseok’s dead body.

Carefully assessing the corpse, you make your way over to it, Namjoon following hastily. “I forgot to mention it, but what happened here?” He was referring to the mess you made. Anyone that walked in could tell there were signs of struggling. His eyes roamed the area, especially lingering over the crooked couch and the rug that bunched up under it. “Was this one hard to kill, or was it the intruder?” The way he refers to Hoseok like he was never a “he,” but an “it,” makes you cringe. You can’t get over his use of the word intruder either, as if you weren’t one yourself.

“On the contrary,” you sigh, staring into the male’s lifeless eyes. “I didn’t kill him.”

It does not take a while for Namjoon to put together the pieces. He knows you. He knows that you have never once used guns and how you feel about them, even. You were one of the few killers of your organization to use only one type of weapon, and those were blades. You preferred close range attacks but weren’t picky about tomahawking when needed. If it was a game of skill, you had it, and you’d win. Of course, Namjoon was sure of this, being your friend of three years.

He clears his throat and you look expectantly at him. “Penny for your thoughts?” You were transfixed on the corpse for a while and he started to worry. Silently asking for the one cent payment, you stuck out your hand, to which he responded by patting himself and shrugging when he came up with nothing.

You giggle at his little display, musing over his exaggerated defeat when he could not find a penny and began to talk despite his lack of remittance. “It’s just that when I came, I had a bad feeling about everything.” Your gloved hand waves in circular motions over the contents of the room. “He was awake. I didn’t listen to myself and leave when I saw what was—” Your eyes widen.

Upstairs.

You forgot about upstairs.

“What was your assignment Namjoon?”

He quickly recites everything he read on his tablet before coming over. Your stomach lurches at no mention of the woman upstairs. Come to think of it, none of the Crew was missing. The usual number of only six members were accounted for, which meant that they didn’t even know about her.

You jump out of your rooted position and again, Namjoon trails without question. Your following increases when you tap the shoulder of one of the Cleaners and ask her to come with you upstairs.

The three of you reach the top and head inside the bedroom to see the lady on the bed exactly how you left her upon discovery. The girl excuses herself to go get some equipment to scan the area and you take the chance to inquire more about the mission.

“Did the message say anything specific?”

“Other than the target and his profile, no.” Namjoon stares at the bed. “Why?”

“Only because you guys have been here all of three minutes, and not one person was thorough about clean up like usual.”

Routine was to wait for the all clear.

Routine was to search the entire house.

Routine was to dispose of the body.

It also is to empty the said house of any signs of any previous life, yet there lacked so much as a batted eye towards routine.

Maybe you were a bit impatient about it since they had just gotten there, but something still seemed off and you did not want to let that go.

Both of you waited in silence for the girl to come back. When she did, you asked her to perform a physical report. Moving to the right side of the bed, her arm hovers over the wet spot you had discovered not long ago. She then scans it, and the woman’s body after. The soft hum of her scanner fills the room for about ten seconds before a high-pitched beep is heard.

“The results show signs of…of uh…”

When she couldn’t speak without stuttering, you decided to try and fill in the blanks. “Was she raped?” you ask, your voice no louder than a whisper.

Namjoon shifts uncomfortably at your question and the girl can only nod in response.

“There's…

“There’s a box on the other side of the bed. I found it and it had some pretty questionable items.” You point in its general vicinity with a lazy wisp of your left arm.

You seemed both bothered and unfazed by the room’s fourth presence, elucidated by its grim aura. She was rather unfortunate to have worn the dark circle impressed into the skin of her ring finger, binding her to this fate. It ate you alive to know that someone else killed your targets, and this one in particular to a much more morbid extent. Even more so, that you were not able to make it quick and easy. Not that it would have made a difference in terms of death since pain is pain, but at least you would have felt content in knowing that she wasn’t exploited in such a way. By who, you did not know. Her assumed husband, the prime suspect, was already being disposed of. The only other explanation had jumped out of the window before you could catch them.

“I don’t think this man—Jung Hoseok, was whom he led on to be.”

Namjoon had carefully read your expression as you fell deeper into thought at the mention of the box. He didn’t like the look in your eyes. “They usually never are Y/N, and it’s not our job to care.”

“This pertains to the overall weirdness of the situation,” you conceded, watching the other crew member walk to the box you mentioned, picking it up and surveying that as well.

The latter folded his arms in protest to the ongoing plot inside your head. He watched you open your mouth to speak, anticipating his further disapproval at your oncoming words as you swiveled towards the doorway.

“I have yet to—”

“Hold it,” Namjoon interrupted. He grabbed your arm mid haste and took you out to the hallway—where you were headed in the first place, but ultimately beaten to the punch. “I think you need to stop.”

You looked at him in disbelief. He towered over you, steady with his hands firmly curled around your shoulders. He continued to stare intently at you and when the passing minutes only held silence, he then spoke.

“This is our job, so leave it to us.”

You felt defeat for the second time that night. That feeling quickly washed over with frustration and defiance. “if you're suggesting that I cannot compose myself, Namjoon, I assure you—”

“You can handle yourself, I know.”

“I have seen many bodies even worse than—”

“I know.” Namjoon, while taking his revenge from earlier, interrupted you for the second time, holding his grip even when you tried to break out of it.

“Then if you know, you should let me go.” you grit your teeth in another vain attempt to smack his arms away.

He contended with your challenging tone, simply by clipping off a sharp no at the edge of his tongue. Both of you stood in the dark hallway, two unmoving forces engrossed in each other’s burning gaze.

“Come on.” He pulled your arm and started down the stairs, only for you to yank back.

“Your job is not to scour the house and investigate. That’s what we do here. You came here to kill, and you did not deliver. Staying is not gonna make things better for you at the agency. Just go back, Y/N.

“You get yourself so caught up in everyone else’s life, you don’t even realize you are the one ending it. Aside from the fact that someone was out to get you, this case is no different. But, because the person is still out there, you need to get out of here instead of playing detective and putting a target on your back.”

Sometimes you hated when he was right. You let Namjoon take your hand and the two of you made it back to the first floor. He stopped in front of you to let two workers pass by. They carried Hoseok’s blanketed body on a gurney towards the front door, his left hand swinging off the side to the rhythm of their rough movements.

With your two hands still intertwined, Namjoon takes you the same way as the workers. You followed them into a maintenance elevator and went down six floors. Every corner harbored guards in grey. As for security, they made sure the building was asleep, which meant that any onlooker was oblivious, and all the cameras, if any, were off.

Once outside, Namjoon stops. “Where is your car? I’ll take you there.”

“I can take myself,” you protested. “Its many blocks away.”

“Which direction?”

You sighed. He was not going to let up. You told him right, the direction of your car, and the two of you started walking again.

The wind was still blowing as softly as it did inside the house. Streetlights were off in your area, courtesy of Clean-up Crew, and the sky was just as dark as it had been the time you climbed into Hoseok’s window. You noted these particular details to distract yourself from Namjoon’s hand, still glued to your own.

He noticed you looking everywhere but him, and swung your arms teasingly. “I hope you aren’t mad at me, your best friend in the whole entire world,” he smiled.

You shook your head with furrowed brows, more irritated at the killer that bested you only fifteen minutes before.

“Good,” he said, letting go of your hand.

At that moment, you realize he hadn’t done any of his work at all, and you were the reason. That made you feel bad for a brief second, but your thoughts rolled back to the other assassin. You were ill-prepared for such an altercation, as you had never encountered one of that nature. Granted, every mission allows for the possibility of death, but as Namjoon said earlier, this was different.

I could’ve died.

“That’s why I’m walking you to your car.”

“What?” You looked up at your friend in confusion before realizing you had said it out loud.

“Want to talk about it? We seem to have a couple more blocks since I don’t see the car yet.”

You accepted his offer without knowing where to start. Eventually, you told him exactly what happened. He listened, humming every now and then when he understood. When you finished, you waited for his insight.

“Describe them in detail.”

“I—I don't…” You didn’t think much on it since you were focused on survival, but on further assessment, you could remember more than just their clothes. “They were wearing all black, like me, but the shirt was short sleeved and they had ripped jeans on, almost as if the killing was a casual event for them.” Your eyebrows knitted at this thought, but you continued. “They…had a gun, I think it was an XT-97, but they handled it like a pistol.”

“So they’re strong,” he noted. “Height?”

“Tall. Maybe like…six feet? I can’t tell, but now that I think about it, their build was not at all feminine.”

“Then it’s a guy, right?”

“Must be,” you said, retreating back into the memory once again.

“Don’t move!”

You planted yourself on top of the figure, your knife digging into his craning neck. You can feel his muscles flex under the black T-shirt, veins bulging out of his forearms as your knees dig deeper into them, your intention being to further weight yourself. You’re ready to slit his throat, angling the blade and leaning close enough to hear his stuttered pants.

Suddenly, your ears perk up at the sound of footsteps.

They stop.

“We’re here.”

You stood on the corner of the street, the alleyway separating you from the next block over. No lights shone on your car as it sat in the shadows, and you made sure of that with the small EMP you planted on the asphalt. It acted as a cloaking device, detracting attention and temporarily deactivating streetlights in the perimeter. You picked it up as the two of you sauntered over to the black Tesla.

The car’s light illuminated Namjoon’s face when he leaned over the open door, one hand resting on the roof of the car. You expressed your temporary goodbyes and he shut the door after watching you put on your seatbelt. The ignition switched on at the sound of your voice, shifting to reverse and slowly backing out of the narrow space, careful of Namjoon’s presence.

“One more thing,” you piped up as the car idled on the curb. Namjoon was a little ways off, already on the walk back when he came up to the open passenger window. You motioned for him to get in and he did so without protest.

“He was wearing a really weird mask,” you said, trailing off while setting the autonomous car to drive in the direction of Hoseok’s apartment.

You realized how distracted you got when you thought about the other assassin. Something about him sent chills up your spine, yet you were entranced, just by the rise and fall of his chest. The low timbre of Namjoon’s voice pulled you out of the memory, but you could still see two unblinking black eyes staring back so vividly.

“It was a bunny mask. I remember clearly how haunted it made me feel.”

“That sounds creepy.”

“Yeah, it kinda was.”

The car slowed to a halt and you looked over at Namjoon. He assured you that when he finished, he’d give you all the details on what he found. Then, he got out and walked up to one of the guards casually leaning against the pole of a stop sign. You waited for him to wave you away, and with it, the car drove off into the bare streets of what was now 3 A.M.

“Please input your next destination, otherwise you will be transported to the home marker.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. It would be a long ride from the outskirts of Gwangju.

Technological advancements created self-driving cars and not long after, highways to accommodate their fast speeds, but even though this triumph sliced time into fractions, you still would have to wait an hour or so until you reached your destination. Knowing it would be so long, you groaned at the sight of your weary reflection in the visor, closing it with a slam. A note that was pinned to it fell into your lap. With light, you skimmed over carefully written cursive, the words of its author flooding the paper with waves of regret. Memories resurface from the depths of your mind and you can’t help but drown in them.

02. 17. 3049 || TWO YEARS EARLIER

The smell of rosewood and kimchi is oddly soothing as you sit in the corner booth of the tiny restaurant. It was one of your favorite places to eat, also being one of the oldest and only businesses to evolve with the modernized world. The inside housed a new coffee corner, which you made sure to visit each morning. This morning was quite frigid and the café made up for the bitter weather with its warm drinks, one which you were already on your third order of.

She could be here any minute, you thought, your foot tapping rather impatiently against the tiled floor. You took a sip of your buckwheat tea, cold hands finding purchase in its warmth as your fingers desperately curled around the cup.

Your eager eyes spot the waiter as she came to me your table, placing down a steaming bowl of naengmyun before smiling and walking away.

How embarrassing it was for you to be seen waiting on someone else. Across from you, the table was set and empty for what would now be an hour and twenty minutes, and to that, your foot still tapped. Each ring of the bell at the door had you on edge until you saw the strawberry blonde walk in and lock eyes with you from across the way. You scanned her (an impulsive habit of yours) while she shuffled over to the table. You could tell she ran, as her cheeks were nearly beet red, and her breathing quite uneven. Everything you already knew about her appeared next to her figure as she sat down.

“Sorry I’m late,” she huffed, rubbing her cheeks and hunching over. You dismissed her profile with two blinks and smiled at her.

“No need, I wasn’t waiting long.”

“Is this for me?” She pointed to the bowl of noodles that you pushed over to her side of the table in response. She dug in, mumbling a thank you with a few noodles hanging from her mouth.

You took another sip of your drink.

“So,” she said, clearing her throat. “What did you have planned for today? Anything involving outside? If so, I can order us something warm to take with us…”

“Actually, our date started half an hour ago,” you teased, looking at the watch on your left hand. “Maybe we can still make the movie if you finish eating in…now.”

The sight of the bewildered look on her face made you burst into laughter. She grumbled as she slurped at her noodles, not appreciating your joke. Still, she asked why you didn’t order, so you lied about already being full, saying you were happy just watching her eat.

You truly had no appetite.

The rest of the day was filled with grins everywhere you went. She begged to stop by a street vendor who, upon the unexpected snowfall, gave away warm treats “on the house.” The two of you rushed to escape the weather and get to her apartment, where she’d put on a movie to replace the one you missed.

The screen was frozen; paused.

She expressed her dire need to use the bathroom and went, leaving you where she expected you to wait: on her couch in the dim lighting of her living room. It was as she washed her hands, that she noticed you in the mirror standing behind her. There, that her confusion morphed into horror at the sight of the kitchen knife, and there, that her blood was spilled, all over the bathroom floor.

Her name never mattered.

It didn’t to whoever had opted to delete her, to the waiter, and the vendor on the street—both of whom were fellow agents, and it didn’t to the world, now that she was gone.

“Surprise!”

You walked into the office startled, blood still tainting your boots, the girl still on your mind. She would later be erased, like all others, from your mind with the help of booze.

Maybe a party was just what you needed.

There were streamers lining the walls, balloons covering the ceiling, and a large banner that read “Congrats on 100 Kills!” hanging from either wall. You took a step further, recognizing your colleagues, some nearly foreign to you with large smiles on their faces.

It was odd for you, being celebrated for taking someone’s life. It just never seemed to matter if the right price is paid—low and behold, a large wad of cash lay buried deep in the pocket of your black moto jacket. You continued to approach the middle of the dark room, a cake with sparklers flickering it’s light on to the many bodies gathered around it. They urged you to blow them out and you did, despite being so hesitant.

Immediately, the lights switched on, and scattered claps rumbled into a thunder of applause. Soon after the cake was cut, people conversed in small groups about the office, quick to stop and congratulate you as you pass by, searching for a friend. But someone else found you before you could reach those doors.

“Guess who?”

You recognized the familiarity of his voice, and, guessing correctly, lifted Namjoon’s hands away from your eyes.

“Hey stranger,” you said, turning to see him beaming at you with those dimples of his. He pulls you in for a tight hug, and without warning, whisks you off, away from the party.

The music and chatter start to fade as he evades all interrogation while dragging you to the elevator, where the two of you take a ride down to the parking garage. Upon the doors opening, a chirp sounds within the concrete walls, soon muffled by the sound of an engine revving. A black car rolls in front of you, its two doors lifting like the wings of a bird taking flight. You are at a loss for words, stuttering out unfinished questions while the elevator doors continually attempt to close, but can’t with you in the way.

“She wanted to give you this,” Namjoon says, taking your arm and hooking it with his as he walks you up to the slick, black beauty. “A gift for all your hard work.”

Hard work, huh? Your boss seemed to be working harder than you, seeing as how she couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Did she no longer have time to be your friend? Watching your steady decline to less than human from behind the comfort of her locked doors?

It wasn’t fair.

“Wh—Where is—” You struggled to find the words until your questions were answered by the folded yellow note Namjoon hands you.

“Five minutes until the destination is reached.”

“Make a new course for work.”

Neon lights race along the curves of your car as it exits the highway, only a few blocks away from the office. Here, everything was alive, compared to where you were last, the traffic and pedestrians still bustling as if it wasn’t the early hours of the morning. It’s true what they say about the city, that it never sleeps, especially not when you’ve just arrived at the heart of Seoul. During the lively night, it was just another building with big glowing letters, but when the light of day shines on this skyscraper, many recognize it as the number one source of technology and internet in all of Korea: Vortex.

The car door lowers with a slight hiss as you walk up to the building. This was your second home for years now, and as you look up the glass walls, you see a yellow light shine from one of the windows.

She’s still here.

You go inside, walking straight past the startled front desk manager—tossing him your keys—and to the elevator, where you knowingly lock eyes just as the door close. There were no buttons for where you were going because no ordinary person knew about the sub-levels of the building both above and below its shell structure. That was for the business Vortex conducted behind the scenes; the business in which you thrived.

The office was on one of the very top floors, and as you reach it, you turn to face the back of the elevator and wait for it to open. Had you share the lift with anyone else, they would’ve looked at you crazy, considering no normal employee could exit through the maintenance doors.

There were no buttons. But of course, that was the purpose of the front desk.

The doors slide open and you walk into the most familiar place you’ve ever known. The cubicles and desks hid the nature of what the assassins really did, but you didn’t have a problem with it since it made you feel a little bit more human.

There were those double doors, the ones you could never reach during the party; the ones made of glass like everything else inside the building.

Except she wasn’t see through.

“Hey, why are you still here?”

You stood leaning in the doorway, watching her head slowly lift from her desk. You knew the answer to that, so she decided not to respond.

“Something strange happened today while a was making a kill,” you started, waiting for her reaction. She did not provide one so you continued. “You see, I was going after that teacher I’d been following for a while, and when I got to his house, he didn’t look like a teacher.”

“Is that so?” She said dryly, her eyes still glued to the computer.

“Yeah,” you replied, folding your arms. “It is, and you wanna know what else?”

“What?”

“Someone else was there too, like—”

“So what, there was someone else in the house, you take people out even with their families in the same bed, so why would it matter now?” Her voice showed a hint of agitation but you would not back down. Instead, you went up to her and placed your hands flat on the desk with a smack.

Now, you had her attention.

“Because that someone was an assassin. He attacked me and my target. Oh, and my target, ‘the teacher’ didn’t look like he was just a teacher. What do you have to say about that? Maybe the fact that your best friend nearly died could get you to at least look at me!”

Finally, she meets your expectant gaze, only to scoff. After a long silence between the two of you and your fiery stares, she speaks up, instantly changing the subject.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Does that even matter right now? There's—”

“Should I, perhaps remind you of the fact that you constantly break the number one rule here? Or should I continue to let you waste my time when you can clearly see how overworked and stressed I am? It’s Monday, Y/N. Three in the morning and here you are.” You wondered what she might be doing up this late, but the papers piling on her desk told you it was work. Which kind, you didn’t know. “We have class today. I hope you don’t oversleep because I won’t be taking notes for you.”

This was the problem with your job. It called for you to be awake at all hours of the night, and though most college students could say the same about their convenience store jobs, yours was more physically exhausting. You opened your mouth to say something in retaliation, as was in your defensive nature, but instead, you said nothing. Maybe it was best for you to deal with it later since you never liked when your two worlds intermingled. On that note, you waved to your tired friend, feeling a bit tired yourself at the sight of her, and headed for the double doors.

“Goodnight, Yoonji.”

« Index || 01 || Following Chapter »

#killer jungkook au #killer jk #mafia bts #jungkook #bts imagines #bts smut #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #min yoonji #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bulletproof boyscouts #k-spiracy #kitty gang #hopeline miami

7 notes · View notes

diceforanaltmode · 6 years ago

Text

Team Fire: Session 2, or Drama! Tears! P-poetry!? (Did I read that right?)

Team Fire continued their adventuring and drama after their first game (read about that here!) and we’re bringing you the summary!

TEAM FIRE

Rodimus by Frosty (tiefling sorcerer) Drift by Space (earth genasi rogue) Ratchet by Hawke (firbolg cleric) Magnus | Minimus by Tuna (half-orc paladin | human/tethyrian wizard) Megatron by Briar (goliath paladin) Rewind by Robin (high elf wizard) (out for this week, but back soon)

First Session (no seriously, read this first!)

The party begins in the same place they left off, in Zeta’s throne room. There is the door the party came in through, and the door on the other side of the room. There is Zeta’s body, the throne, and the windows.

Magnus and Megatron walk over to the mysterious door and attempt to open it. Megs, far too weak after his time in the dungeon to open it with his bare hands, doesn’t even make a dent. Mags tries next, crushing it ever so slightly but not making much more progress (Meg’s eyes widen at her strength). Ratchet, almost out the door to go talk to Orion, pokes his head back in after he realizes no one else is following. He sees the two other giants of the group at the door and walks back over.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

Mags turns back. “Oh, Ratchet. By chance do you have a spell that could help us open this door?”

Flipping through a tattered notebook full of spells, he gives her a look. “Magnus - it was Magnus, right? - I have nothing magic wise, but I got a mace…”

“Wait, hold on, I have my battle ax, I can just use that,” Megs pipes up. Ratchet frowns.

Megs gets them through the door, and they find Zeta’s tower study.

When they look through the papers on Zeta’s desk, they find orders for construction of additional rooms and dungeons under the castle. There’s no updated map, but you can see information on where construction would have begun. The various plans and correspondences suggest that Zeta was concerned about the security of the castle, and wanted to keep his most important research and laboratories hidden, in a place that Nine of Twelve wouldn’t know about because it did not exist when he controlled the castle. They get some information from a hidden drawer about the security being like the dungeon and there being two additional rooms for security, and then an office and lab. The research referenced includes vague references to the plane of his patron, and one letter from the Functionists that suggests it might be time to revisit the earlier work that had brought Zeta to their attention.

Magnus goes to look through the cabinets, muttering “I really shouldn’t be doing this.” Megatron joins the search. They find:

Lead Helm - gives immunity to psychic damage, charm, and sleep. It looks like Magneto’s helmet.

Cloak of the Matador - Worn Item - As a reaction, you may have an enemy attack against an ally within 5ft of you target you instead if you took the dodge action on your turn - possibly causing it to miss.

Grasping Whip - Weapon: When you hit with this weapon as a bonus action you can make a strength or dexterity contest to disarm or trip your enemy. You have disadvantage in this contest if disarming a two-handed weapon or tripping a creature larger than yourself. Take care picking it up or its lash will snap to your wrist.

Needles: +1 to medicine checks

Potions: disguise self, Nausea inducing poison

Megatron takes the Lead Helm, Magnus takes the cloak and potions, also the whip but that is potentially for Drift.

Ratchet quietly snags those needles.

They leave the room, now a little more armed. Magnus and Ratchet head over to Drift and Rodimus, asking if everything is okay and if Rodimus needs help. He insists he’s okay, despite gritting his teeth and growling. Drift stays close, with a hand on Rodimus’s arm, as Rodimus retrieves his arrows, and Drift loots the ring of fire resistance from Zeta.

The party goes down the tower, as they do, Magnus asks Ratchet to introduce her to Orion, needing to get a message from an old friend of Orion’s to him.

----

When they get back into the courtyard where they find Orion, who is talking with Anode. Ratchet goes over to Orion with the intention to ask about the mind control but is interrupted as Orion greets Ratchet and then sees Megatron and immediately freaks.

“WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?!” He’s turned to Anode, looking for an answer, and trying to put himself between Ratchet and Megatron.

“I don’t -” Anode starts, “I heard that he might be imprisoned here but I don’t know - what are you doing here?”

Megatron explains that he was imprisoned and says, gesturing to the rest of the party, says, “these heroes rescued me,”

Orion retorts that Megatron became a murderer and a tyrant and betrayed their ideals.

Megatron counters that at least he was trying to resist the Functionists, but Orion doesn’t let him finish before he shouts “TRYING?”

Megatron shouts back that, yes, he was trying, he was trying to make things better, he was trying to make a better place for everyone, so they could live free of the Functionists.

“You were trying to make things better - what about for the people who died in the hospital you bombed, what about for all the people you killed because you thought they might think the wrong thing -”

“I became a monster, and yes, I regret it. But at least I didn’t bow my head to the Functionists -”

“And you think I did?”

Megatron challenges Orion on having gone back to become a cop after leaving Kaon.

As Megatron and Orion argue, Megatron offers that if they let him go, he will leave the city and they won’t have to deal with him.

Orion incredulously asks whether he thinks that would be enough, after everything he’s done, after the hospital.

Megatron explains that the hospital was covering the Institute and that patients being taken and tortured and killed. Even though dozens of innocent people died, destroying it was meant to prevent still more people from being tortured and killed Megatron insists that even though he’s been a monster, at least he wasn’t enabling horrors like the institute.

Orion is totally taken aback. He pauses for a long moment. “I didn’t - when I took the job, I was trying to reform things, I was trying to protect people from the worst of the corruption. And I was working with the underground there, I was trying to help. I wanted to help you if you hadn’t - I - I didn’t bow my head or whatever you think - I don’t know why you would think I would do that, you … know me.”

“Even if you were trying to help, you were still working for them. Can you really say you didn’t hurt people in their service, that you didn’t commit any atrocities?”

“I’ve been mind controlled for the past year, I don’t! fucking! know! what I’ve done! I don’t… fucking… know.”

After Orion has his breakdown, Megatron turns slightly away, and Orion turns back towards Anode and Ratchet. Anode puts a hand on his arm and speaks softly and guides him back towards the other guards.

Ratchet asks Megatron about the hospital, closes with this: “For all your reasons, they’re still dead.”

And Ratchet walks away.

Drift is Not Having A Great Day, and this shouting match did not make it any better.

Magnus quietly says, more to herself than to Ratchet, “Definitely not the best time to introduce someone, is it?”

---

The party goes back to Swerve’s.

Rodimus, upon entering and seeing the state of semi-organized chaos that Swerve’s in, with various people returning from taking the castle, First Aid and Rung treating people, Prowl running around, people running back to the castle - etc, concludes: “I want a drink.”

Ratchet says, “You know, you’re not as dumb as you look.”

“And you're not as dumb as you look, too!”

Ratchet does not dispute this. They go to find Swerve.

Ratchet leans over the counter and stares dead into Swerve's eyes. "Give me the largest jug of mead you have, small man."

Drift goes up to Swerve and asks for some tea. Swerve seems confused but goes and makes it anyway.

Rodimus goes up to the bar and says - “Give me the strongest drink you have.”

Swerve hands Rodimus a shot glass and Rodimus proceeds to drink it all in one go eating the shot glass as well. He's immediately wasted.

Swerve sees Rodimus eat the shot glass and his eyes go wide as saucers. “You… you’ll have to pay for the glass too.” He makes no further comment, because this is just that kind of day where this might as well happen.

Ratchet sees Rodimus eat the glass, and asks Drift if it's always like that.

"Not glass...he usually has a more varied diet.."

"Hmm. Interesting."

"You get used to it."

"HMMM." And he proceeds to order another jug and keeps chugging.

Rodimus faces Drift, slurring, “Drif, Driift, Drifff. Look a wha I can do!” And he casts dancing lights.

“That’s great Rodimus…”

Later across the bar Rodimus can be seen messing with the lights and laughing his ass off.

----

Megatron comes up to the bar and orders a pint of mead. Swerve takes the order on autopilot because it has been A Day for everyone, goes back into the kitchen to get his order, comes back out, finally recognizes Megatron, and with a- “AAAAUUUGHHHHH!!” he jumps about two feet in the air - pretty impressive for a halfling - and spills about half the mug on the floor.

“You’re not - I mean - you just - you’re not - you just look like the Butcher of Kaon, right? Y’know, that guy.”

“No, I am.”

“Ahahahah” Swerve shoves the mug onto the bar and flees back into the kitchen.

Megatron downs the half a mug in one and goes to sit in a corner, stealing a cloak off the rack to try and hide and avoid any further awkward encounters.

“Do you want a dunce cap?” Ratchet asks, sarcastically, at Megatron’s attempt to hide.

“That’s why he has the helmet.” Drift says.

----

[Mags and Rewind go over to Chromedome and Rewind visits Dom. CD and Mags discuss angsty stuff and Dom being there in Adaptica]

Chromedome flags down Rewind and Magnus from where he’s sitting in front of a door in the basement.

“Dominus is in there, I think he’s still asleep. He needed some rest after what he’s been through, but I think he’ll be okay.” Chromedome pauses, and looks at the two of them. “Look, I know you’re upset, and I know there are things you need to talk about, and - and I know it’s none of my business, but - but just go easy on him, please. He’s made mistakes but - trust me, he’s paid for them.” He sighs. “If - if one of you wants to go in there and sit with him, I guess that’s okay, just don’t disturb him, he needs the rest.”

Rewind goes in to sit with Dominus, Magnus sits outside with Chromedome.

“How long have you known Dominus?” Magnus asks.

“I didn’t really know him well, but from what I heard he got here at about the worst time, just before Zeta took over. The first thing Zeta did was put up magical barriers to communication, and then the wall.

“I know Perceptor was the one who called him, something about his planar research. And then he ended up working for Prowl, to try and infiltrate the castle. Because he was new to the city, Zeta didn’t know anything about him, and as a high-level druid, he had an in with Zeta’s magical research. He was trying to do the right thing, once he was here.”

“I know,” Magnus says.

“I wasn’t inside the castle until I was captured, so I wasn’t working with him. The time in the cell was the first I met him properly, and there wasn’t much talking then. He - well, they put the ‘interrogation chambers’ near the dungeons, so that was probably the most I heard his voice before you two showed up, and it wasn’t ... particularly conversational. Sorry.”

Mags is startled into silence.

“You’re his … sister, did you say?” Chromedome asks.

“Yes, I am.” Magnus can tell that Chromedome wants to ask how an orc is the sister of a human man, but he doesn’t.

“You said you didn’t really know him? That he worked with Prowl?”

“Prowl talked about him. He always talks about work. He only talks about work.” Chromedome adds bitterly. “I don’t know, I might have seen him a couple of times outside of that? I mean, before - yeah.” He turns to Magnus. “He’s a good person, I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

They sit in silence for a few moments before Magnus goes back upstairs.

-----

Magnus goes to sit by Megatron, where he’s still sitting in a corner nook.

“So,” he says as she sits. “Which atrocity do I need to apologize for now?”

“Surprisingly enough, you have not done anything to affect me. I have been hiding away in a fortress of neutrality for a few years now.”

Megs laughs humorlessly. “It’s been A Day,” he sighs.

"IT'S BEEN SHIT," Ratchet hollers from the bar.

Magnus chuckles a little. “Yes, I guess that is one way to say it.”

The two try to talk for a moment more, but both realize they are both shit at small talk. (“You’re not very good at this, are you?” “No, no, not at all.” “Well, I don’t have many topics for small talk, so.”) It’s awkward and they both acknowledge it. Thankfully, Megs has a potential way to make it Not Awkward.

He pulls out a journal, small in his hands. “If you like, we can sit here in silence while I work on some poetry”

Magnus perks up at this. “You write poetry?”

“Yes,” Megs asks if she’s read a list of certain poets, and informs her that they were actually all him, publishing under many pseudonyms. Mags, surprised yet again, says she has indeed read most these ‘authors.’

“And you, do you write?”

“Um, yes, I do. A little bit.”

Magnus then decides to bring out her journal.

“Would you like to read mine while I read yours?” Megatron offers, “Mine aren’t exactly cogent right now.”

“Oh of course; mine are not as superfluous and detailed as my brothers’, but they get to the point.”

“Comparing yourself to someone else is pointless,” Megatron says, and for a moment he almost reaches out to put a hand on Magnus’ arm, but he catches himself and pulls his hand back before continuing. “Your voice carries its own weight and means something. You are your own self.”

Magnus is struggling not to tear up. “T-thank you. That is very kind of you.”

They then exchange notebooks and read their poetry out loud and compliment each other like dorks.

----

Rodimus starts to feel nauseous and tells Drift.

“Hey, Drif? I don- I don't feel so good… I think I ate something bad…”

Rodimus gets up to find a bathroom and Drift gets up too to help Rodimus to it. Along the way, they run into Rung, who’s left the treatment area as things have slowed down.

“Oh hey! What are- wha you doin’ here? Rrring? Ring.”

“Um, Rung actually..”

“Ya! Rang. I don’t… I don’t feel great.”

Drift recognizes Rung as someone Rodimus has talked about.

Rung offers him a potion that gets rid of the effects of the drink, and Rodimus takes it.

“Haven't seen you in uh… a while.” Rodimus says, and his hesitation betrays some of his conflicted feelings about Rung - while he’s happy to see him now, that doesn’t change the fact that he wasn't there when Rodimus needed him.

Rung says it’s been too long and apologizes for the fact that he hasn’t been there.

Rodimus asks about whether Rung knows what happened in Nyon, and Rung says he does. Rung tries to ask Rodimus about it and gets the brush off.

Rung changes the topic, “Adaptica is better now, even if things seem messy now. You and your friends are responsible for that.”

Rodimus says that killing Zeta didn’t help him, or make him feel any better.

Considering this, Rung offers. “Let’s take a walk.”

“Fiiiiiiiiine.”

As Rung, Rodimus, and Drift, walk into the city, they see people in the streets - something they hadn’t seen much of when entering the city when it had been much more subdued, people only leaving their homes if absolutely necessary. Guards, now free of enchantment and having been released from AVL debriefing, reuniting with their families, people out and talking freely about what happened - celebratory music plays a few streets away. They continue to walk through the residential part of the city, then out further, to the wall. People are tearing down the hall, with hammers, whatever tools they can get to hand, with spells, now that the wall no longer has Zeta’s protective enchantment. Kids are playing with fallen bricks, reenacting Zeta’s defeat, building towers and knocking them down. People are painting the walls with messages and images of celebration and defiance.

Rung smiles, looking at the paintings on the wall. “They certainly are making quite chaotic art, aren’t they? It’s very beautiful, though it’s certainly not something I could do.”

Rodimus is noncommittal. Rung continues. “I know you weren’t here in the city, under Zeta’s rule, for very long, but it’s hard to overstate how bad it was.”

Rodimus, bitterly. “Well, I know what he did to Nyon, so,”

“Yes. Yes, you do.” Rung discusses how tearing Zeta down was good and has saved a lot of people, and that the people here will be better for the fact that Rodimus and his friends did so.

“That’s great but I don't get why you'd take us out here to show this.”

Rung notes the people celebrating around them and says that he thought it might be useful to see the city and how it is better off now.

Rodimus says that doesn’t change that everyone in Nyon is still dead and the survivors hate him.

“Why do you think that?” Rung asks.

“You said you knew what happened in Nyon.”

“I do.”

“Then you know.”

“I’d prefer to hear it from you.”

Rodimus isn’t pleased about this, but he does explain, how Zeta attacked, how he had a power he never knew he had, but he lit himself on fire. “What do you want me to say? That I burnt down the entire town? Killed everyone? That I can't go back because the survivors all hate me? That- that I didn't even choose to leave I was run out?”

Rung says that because Rodimus never knew he had this power, it was still out of his control.

“Whatever,” Rodimus says, “that doesn't really change anything now does it?”

“When the fire started, were you trying to hurt the city, or hurt Zeta?”

“I was trying to hurt Zeta - how could you even ask that?” Rodimus says, disbelieving, hurt.

“I know. What you did with the fire was to try to protect your town. And you destroyed Zeta’s demons and forced him out of your city. So why do you think you deserve to be hated?”

“So - what, you think I should just walk back into Nyon, tell everyone who survived, ‘hey, I know you hate me, but guess what? You shouldn’t.’” Rodimus says, bitterly incredulous.

“I’m not saying you need to go back, I’m saying that you should stop trying to punish yourself.”

When Rodimus still seems skeptical, Rugn repeats his point, about the fact that Rodimus’ new powers weren’t under his control when he burned Nyon, and he adds that that doesn’t have to happen again, that Rodimus can control himself. Rodimus says that of course he’s learned how to control his flames, that that isn’t going to happen again.

“Of course,” Rung says, “You have a fire inside of you. The fire can hurt innocent people, but that’s just one part of what it can do - what it can be. Fire is life, it can bring good. You used your fire against Zeta today, and you protected your friends, and you freed all the people in this city.”

“I guess…”

Rung, realizing that Rodimus is not only at the end of his rope but several feet past it at this point, gently changes the subject. “I see you still have the cloak I gave you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I always keep it with me.”

“Well, I’m very glad it’s been helpful.”

“Ya uh, thanks, again. I guess.”

“Oh, there's no need for thanks.”

Rung asks Drift how he is, Drift says he’s okay and doesn’t follow up, he’s now firmly established as Not A Fan Of Rung. Rung suggests they go back to the pub.

Warthog, now released from First Aid’s treatment, recognizes Rodimus, specifically, but seeing the look on Drift’s face, which suggests he’ll stab the next person who tries to have a heavy conversation where Rodimus has to relive some shit, decides to leave that conversation for another day.

Rodimus and Drift grab something to eat, Rod all but falling asleep as he eats. When he's done, Rodimus decides to retire to the room he and Drift rented for the night.

----

When he sees Drift looking like he might want to come over and talk to him, Megatron is clearly paying attention to Drift and bringing the poetry conversation with Magnus to a close. Rather than having Megatron offer to leave, Magnus offers to go and sit somewhere else, and Megatron gratefully accepts. Magnus goes to join Ratchet.

Drift comes over and sits down next to Megatron and doesn't look at him. "So."

Aaaand that's about as far as either of them thought this through. Awkward silence.

"You know, I don't think that's the loudest I've ever heard you yell at him," Drift jokes.

Megatron sighs and Sad Dads at Drift. He tried to be a good dad and failed. He apologizes profusely, tells Drift he wanted the best for him, etc. He says he’s proud of who Drift has become without him, and grateful that Drift has become someone better without him. He says "I love you, and I’m so proud of you," which is when Drift bristles and cuts him off, voice starting to shake

"Alright, that's enough."

Megatron really wants to like, hug Drift or something, and he holds his hand out towards Drift's shoulder so Drift can accept or reject the offer.

"Don't touch me." Megatron takes his hand back immediately, like he's been slapped.

"I have a lot of things I want to say to you, but I don't think either of us is going to get anything out of having that conversation right now." Drift sighs, "But - what you were saying earlier- to Orion, about leaving- don't you dare. Don't you dare disappear on me after- being here."

Megatron promises not to leave.

And with that, Drift goes up to join Rodimus in the room and get some sleep.

After today, they all need some rest.

#game recap #team fire

11 notes · View notes

daveleddenwriter · 6 years ago

Text

The Tortured Artist

By Dave Ledden

For as long as I could remember I wanted to be an artist. My earliest memory is of my three year old self finger painting on the driver side door of my dad’s vintage Mustang. His face went blood red with rage and tears built up in his eyes when he caught me. I can still hear my mom’s words, vividly. “Calm down! She’s just a baby, she didn’t know what she was doing!” Needless to say he kept me well the hell away from his car for the rest of my childhood.

For years I was the top art student at every school I went to. I continued painting, sketching, sculpting etc.. I got marks that were excellent, so I began studying art at college. I moved into a small place with my friend, Sasha. Well, at least I did for my first year of college. She dropped the philosophy course that she was doing and planned on moving closer to her home and her boyfriend. I was relieved to have some privacy, It meant I could have more space in the flat to work on my creations and she wouldn’t be here to force me to not stay up all night working. I was secretly excited the day she left.

“I hope you won’t be lonely here by yourself.” Sasha said, putting clothes in a suitcase.

“Maybe a little, but I’ll manage.” I said, trying not to grin. “So you’re moving in with your boyfriend?” I never referred to him by his name because to this day, I’ve no clue what it is.

“No. We’ll move in eventually, but I’m not ready yet.” She replied. I nodded. Sasha then took a peak at the picture I was currently drawing. It was a ink sketch of a cemetery with Tim Burton style headstones and trees.

“That looks darker than your other pictures” She said.

“I thought I’d experiment with a new style.”

“What has you experimenting?”

“You’re meant to experiment in college.” I replied, smirking.

Sasha laughed, then she became serious. “I hope you take care of yourself when I’m gone.”

“Yes mom.” I replied, sarcastically.

She continued “Sleep, bathe, eat regularly.”

“Breath, blink.” I joked.

We chatted until she had to leave. I helped her carry her luggage to her car. We finished loading her bags into the car. She hugged me.

“I’ll call you when I get home.” Sasha said.

“Okay.” I replied.

“Marian, please promise you won’t work yourself to death. Get some sleep and don’t shut yourself off from the world.”

I looked into her eyes and saw that she was genuinely concerned. I didn’t want to promise her that, I knew if I did I’d be lying to her, but I didn’t want her to worry about me. So for what felt like an infinite amount of time, I couldn’t give any form of response. I stood quiet and expressionless. Sasha waved her hand in front of my face, snapping me back to attention.

“Marian, promise me!” Sasha said, with a stern look on her face.

“Ok…” I said, weakly.

***

I slammed back four cups of coffee and two cans of monster that night. After finishing my graveyard sketch earlier in the day, I had a new project to start working on. I was enjoying trying out the gothic art style and I wanted to make a sculpture in it. It was a doll, a girl with a white face and a long black dress and long black hair. The dress was made with some spare cloth I had and the hair was made with wool. I made her thin arms with some silver metal. Her face was also made with metal, but I painted it white. It took close to four hours to finish the doll and the sun was coming up. I looked at the sculpture with satisfaction and placed it on the shelf facing my bed. I finally crashed and went to sleep.

I woke in the afternoon, groggy and tired. I was blinded by the sun rays that invaded my bedroom through the curtain-less window. I rubbed my eyes until they adjusted to the light. When they did, I looked at my shelf, wanting to see the doll. My shelf was vacant and I was immediately wide awake from shock! I shot out of bed and stood frantically glancing around my room! I calmed down when I saw the doll lying face down on the carpet, about a foot away from the front of the shelf. The doll didn’t look damaged when I picked it up to inspect it closely. I was relieved because I wanted to work on a new piece tonight instead of repairing this one.

***

I created at least one art piece a night, sometimes more than one. I had a two week long break from college and I spent all of that time locked up in my apartment. I slept most of the day and worked nearly all night, every night. I never admitted this to Sasha whenever she would call. My groggy voice would always almost give me away, but I was able to reassure her any time she would become suspicious. My routine was working with little to no hassle… until halfway through the first week of the mid-term.

I heard strange noises at first. It sounded as if an animal was scratching the inside of the vents. I naturally assumed I had mice and I was quite angry that I’d have to leave my apartment to get traps or poison. I didn’t deal with the problem right away. I didn’t want to waste time. I had started a new sculpture that was gonna be far more complicated than any other ones that came before it, and thus required a lot of time to complete. It was a life sized self sculpture made from clay. The porcelain coloured skinned statue stood at 5ft 7’, and was clearly too large to fit into the kiln that I keep in the kitchen. My plan instead was to go over it with a hair dryer until it was bone dry. I got started and continued to work diligently on it. I neglected so much sleep, sometimes working the whole night through. When I actually did sleep it was only for short naps. I was beginning to hallucinate from exhaustion. A couple of times since the college break, I thought I saw my doll walk around my bedroom, through the cover of my eye. When I turned my head around to get a better look, she was always on her shelf where I left her, stood as he’d always been.

I only ate packaged foods that I didn’t have to waste precious time cooking or preparing. I also made sure that there was a cup of water next to me at all times so I didn’t accidentally kill myself with dehydration. I occasionally drank from the wrong cup resulting in me swallowing what I can assume to be a gallon of paint tainted water, in the course of only a couple of days. It was worth it. As long as I finished my piece, I didn’t mind having to withstand a bit of poison. Sasha rang a few times while I was focusing on the sculpture, so I didn’t respond. I was far too busy for guilt.

The scratching from the vents didn’t stop, in fact it had gotten worse. One night while I was making progress on statue me, so much It seemed that I would have it finished a few of days earlier than scheduled. The mice in the vent were going crazy! What was odd was the scratching didn’t sound like toe nails on metal, it sounded like metal on metal. It was pretty late, 03:35 A.M. according to my phone so I assumed I was just hallucinating again. I was too happy with my work to care so I powered through. All was going well until maybe a half an hour later. The scratching stopped for five minutes. I sat in total silence, glad that the mice were giving me some peace and quiet. Suddenly another noise emanated from the vent, but it wasn’t scratching. The sound that I heard this time, I can only describe as being demonic laughter. It didn’t sound like it came from a person. I’d never heard anything like it before, which is why I’m having difficulty describing it. It was high pitched, like a cartoon rodent, but it also sounded like metallic rattling!

My heart was racing and I was physically shaking. The laughter ended and when I calmed down I decided to not only get to sleep there and then, I also planned on taking Sasha’s advice to give up neglecting sleep in favour of my art, at last, before I completely lost my mind. I eventually did fall asleep after a while, but it didn't last long. I was forcefully woken up by what sounded like a fog horn. I sat up in my bed, terrified, “Ya know, I’m starting to think that it isn’t mice.” I said out loud to myself before exhaustion took over me once again. I was woken up again. This time by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. I sprang up in my bed again and switched the lights on. My eyes were drawn to my almost finished self sculpture. It was now headless. The wires that were inside the sculpture, acting like a skeleton were sticking out of the top of the neck where the head used to be. They looked like they had been chewed through by an animal. Statue me’s head was on its side on the floor, looking at me face to face. I looked into its hazel eyes, there was a crack running through its left pupil and iris. The head was scalped. Shards of black clay, that was the sculptures hair was scattered all over the carpet.

I almost broke down crying at the sight of it. I then noticed her, the doll stood at the foot of my bed, facing me. She had a still poker face, but it felt like she was mocking me. I garnered the courage to speak up.

“You broke it, didn’t you?!” I sounded small, like a frightened child. The doll remained stationary and gave no response.

“Why did you do it? That’s so mean.” I realised how petulant I sounded but I was trying to keep my voice from trembling. Yet again, no response. The doll just stared at me with its dead eyes. She was really pissing me off at this point and I lost it and screamed at her.

“Why are you doing this to me?! What are you doing in the vents?!” I was still shaking, but this time it was a blend of both fear and anger. I tried my best to maintain a straight face. The doll and I stared at each other down like we were in a duel, waiting to see who will draw their pistol first. Neither of us made a move.

“What am I doing?” I thought, letting the ridiculousness of the situation sink in. I looked away from the doll and hung my head for a split second. When I did, I felt something being thrown at my forehead. The projectile landed on my lap and I saw it clearly. The doll threw a balled up sock at me.

“You piece of…!” I stopped myself mid-sentence by biting my lip. I snatched the doll up and ripped it’s arms off with my bare hands. Her face remained expressionless, so I pulled off her head and crushed it. I then pulled her wool hear out of her dented metal scalp, and tore her fabric dress into scraps of rag. I bunched up her remains into a ball and tossed it in the trash, leaving my apartment for the first time in almost a week.

I got back inside and collapsed to my knees in front of my wrecked sculpture and cried. I tried to calm myself down but I couldn’t hold back. All of my anger, fear, misery, got the better of me and what made it all worse was the fact that I was so tired! Two solid streams of tears flowed down my cheeks and I started cradling the severed head of statue me. I finished sobbing and sat at the edge of my bed. I told myself that I could repair the sculpture another time, but for now all I wanted to do was chill. I was too afraid to go back to sleep. I planned on sitting in my well lit bedroom and waiting for morning to come. It’s too bad that that didn’t happen.

I woke up lying across my bed on top of the covers. I was blinded by the light and I could hear a now familiar and horrifying metallic scratching. I looked at the floor and saw the doll standing before me, fully intact as if she never been damaged at all. She stood next to the sculpture of me. She had broken off both of the sculptures arms and the head was so crushed if was practically powder. “Die!” I roared, chucking my phone at the doll. I missed. I finally saw the doll move, it was lightning fast but moved as if it was on the verge of breaking to pieces. It preformed a strange side flip and my phone passed right by it. She then hissed at me and sprinted away. I didn’t see where she went.

After that night she didn’t leave. I could hear scurrying around the vents every night from then onwards. She would laugh at me and make sure that I never got a wink of sleep. She mostly hid herself. Only letting me see her so that she can force me to watch her destroy all my art. She loved when I was afraid and crying, she was having way too much fun making me her pet. She wouldn’t even let me leave my apartment and she snapped my phone in half. I was eventually rescued after a few weeks of this torment.

I heard a bang at my front door,

“Marian, dear, open up! you’re scaring me!” Said a female voice.

I was so relieved that Sasha had come for me, but I didn’t even have the energy to give a verbal reply let alone answer the door.

“Marian, you’re class said that they haven’t seen you in a month and you haven’t answered the phone for much longer than that. Let me in, I’m worried about you!” Said Sasha.

After an hour the police broke my door down and they and Sasha saw me lying on the floor. I was thin, pale, bony, dehydrated and babbling incoherently to myself. “What happen!?” Screamed Sasha. I really wanted to have the mental capacity to form a response, but couldn’t.

FIN

#short story #short fiction #my story #my writing #horror #comedy #horror comedy #horror story #comedy story

5 notes · View notes

torixus · 5 years ago

Text

The Alpha Story (Read till the End)

"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father.

"SHUT UP!!" he hollered back at me.

He whipped me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved into my thighs.

I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death.

My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane.

Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer.

They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates.

My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human.

She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size.

"GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality.

Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. I felt a sharp pain on my abdomen and realized that my father had kicked me.

"FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now.

I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this hell that I call home passes too...

After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe…

Chapter 2 Life Is A Gamble

I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god...

Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside.

I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me and teachers just pretend I'm not there. I do the same. I see no point in school. I will grow up and marry someone rich that won't take advantage of me and live happily ever after. Well, at least I think I will.

When I come across an empty seat on the bus. I start to think, I start to make up a fairy tale in my head that I know will never happen. One day someone will notice my scars and bruises and will report my so-called father. They will take me into protective custody and then lock up my dad. Hopefully, when they report me they do it to a werewolf court. Considering my dad is probably one of the strongest werewolves out there. I highly consider someone strong to restrain him. His beatings are much worse than a regular person. I flinch at the thought of him beating me again tonight. A tear threatens to fall down my face but I quickly breathe in and wipe my eyes. Getting rid of any evidence of my moment of weakness. I had enough of that last night.

Once in class, I take a seat in the back. As always the teacher takes attendance. When I don't reply she looks at me and backs down at her computer. Verifying that I'm here I guess. The class passed by at an agonizingly slow rate. We were learning about the Cold War. I didn't pay much attention to the teacher's lecture. My fairly happy endings overwhelmed my mind. I pictured my perfect husband. Tall and built. Caring and never raised his temper. Just perfect.

The bell soon released me from my mind and I began to pack my things. The rest of the day went by like a breeze. Before I knew it I was in the last class. I hated this class. Not because of the students or the teacher. Just because in a few minutes I would be headed home and the beatings would begin.

The final bell rings and I can already feel the beatings on my body. My eyes start to tear up because I know what is waiting for me. I can already feel the whips and the broken glass against my skin. The bus ride home does not seem long enough. Once I reach my stop and get off I sigh. Maybe I can make a run for it. Then again dad will catch me. He always does, then the beatings will be worse. I shudder at the thought. I sigh. 'Oh well might as well. My fate is inevitable.' I start to walk home.

Once I get home I shiver and see my father in the living room.

"Hi daddy" I whisper.

"Shut up and sit down. We are going to talk." He says in a commanding tone.

I shrink into the seat across from him. I notice that Alpha Adam is sitting across from us. I softly smile at him and he returns the smile. My father is the first to speak.

"Bane, we are trading you for land." My father states coldly.

I gasp. My father is trading me for land? Where am I going? Do I really mean nothing to him? Trade? For land? Alpha Adam notices my facial expression and is quick to explain.

"We are just thinking about it," he says softly. "The alpha of the Blue River pack wants to expand into our territory. We let him expand once but now he is taking it too far. We talked it over and he says that if we give him something from our pack that he won't expand. Considering his pack is big and they are much stronger we decided to give him some wolves. Your father said that we could use you." He says trying to calm me.

Tears start to fall down my cheek. Alpha looks at my father with a worried look. Alpha Adam knows that my father beats me, but he doesn't tell him anything. Anytime he does my father replies with 'Don't tell me how to raise my daughter.' My father's voice brings me back into reality.

"Bane keep crying and I'll give you something to cry about"

That quickly makes me sit up and wipe my tears away. I know the Blue River Pack was a bad pack. Aside from being the strongest pack in the U.S, they had the cruelest Leader. He killed any outsiders immediately. Rouges were executed in front of the whole pack. It was a lesson to show that whoever left the pack or crossed the territory had to accept the consequences. I know I would be executed as soon as I arrived.

"Your things are packed, you'll leave right now," My father said coldly.

"What about school?" I ask my voice is close to a whisper.

"You won't need school. It's a waste of time." My father answered with an agitated tone.

Although I did agree with him on the specific topic I knew that school aside from sleeping was my only escape. With one of them missing, would I be able to live my life the way I have been doing these past years? My thoughts quickly escaped me.

"Bane we're doing this for the pack. I hope you can understand" Alpha Adam softly whispered.

I looked up at him. For the pack? I could give for what happens to the pack. They treated me like a piece of dead meat that had been rotting on the ground for too long. People from the pack avoided me so much that I was the only person that was to be sent to a human school.

Now I'm being traded for the pack's benefit? I sighed. Arguing with the Alpha was like arguing with a wall. Both just stand there and didn't listen. Knowing that if I said anything wrong my father would beat me in front of the alpha I decided to keep my mouth shut.

"Who will accompany me?" I asked.

Alpha Adam softly smiled. My father on the other hand just looked at me with a cool look.

"No one, you are to walk alone into the Blue River Pack territory" Stated my father.

I was about to protest when Alpha Adam spoke up.

"I notified Damien and he told me to make you go on your own. Any wolf accompanying you will be killed... I'm sorry"

I faked a smile and softly shrug. Very well. I guess I'm going alone. I softly got up from my seat and headed for the stairs. I noticed a suitcase on the floor and figured it was what I was going to be taking on my trip. I pulled out the handle and laid it on its wheels.

"I guess this is goodbye daddy..." I softly whispered.

"Get out of my house" he responded.

With that, I began my trip to my new home.

Chapter 3 The Journey Begins

I may be in a bad situation but at least for 17 years, I had someone keep a roof over my head. I just hope one day he finds someone who can take care of him. I wouldn't want to end up like him. Not in a million years. Although my situation isn't much better at least I'm young and stronger. His prime time was obviously a very long time ago.

Once at the bus stop I sat on one of the chairs. The bus would arrive in 5 minutes. I was deep in thought when I heard someone talk.

"Are you Bane?"

"Yes... Is there something I can help you with?"

"Come with me, Beta doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"I'm sorry?" I asked in a confused tone. The stranger didn't reply. He only grabbed my arm and started walking to a black SUV. I wanted to scream but I couldn't seem to open my mouth. He quickly pushed me in the car and shoved the door closed. He got on the driver's side and started driving. This was going to be a long car ride.

Just as I had suspected the car ride lasted around 2 hours. Mike the stranger had played many different songs. I learned his name halfway through the ride. All from different genres. I fiddled with my fingers and on occasion, I would stare out into the forest. I was completely and utterly bored. I decided to lay my head back and rest my eyes.

I don't exactly know when I fell asleep but I did. I was awakened by the slamming of a door. I jolted out of my seat. I opened my door and climbed out.

"Where here"

"Woah. This place is bigger than I thought." I mumbled astonished.

Mike just chuckled behind me. He grabbed my bag and helped me walk into a mansion.

"So how is it that you are the strongest wolf alive, yet you have no scent"

"Excuse me?"

"Well the Beta of the Black Forest Pack said that you were the strongest she-wolf in your pack, yet I cannot scent your wolf. How do you cover your scent like that?"

"I don't cover my scent. I am a human." I stated.

"A human? Oh no! Alpha won't like this." He mumbled.

I was quite unaware of what was happening. One of the females had come up to us and she had struck me in the back of the head. Of course, being beat at home by a wolf much stranger than her I was quick to regain balance.

"Come with me human.." She spat out the word human in a distasteful way. Like I was some kind of infection on her tongue. Before I could react she had grabbed me and was dragging me down the halls into a basement looking thing. I started to struggle and she started to get pissed off. After multiple blows to my head and abdomen, I stopped refusing. I just let her drag me. I should have known nothing was going to change.

I was trying not to cry. I guess the fact that my father basically sold me, my pack betrayed me and now that I was in a new pack they were putting me in prison. It was all overwhelming. I fought back tears and waited for them to leave me in my cell. Nancy, the woman from earlier had placed me in a cell and had hit me a few times. I, of course, did nothing to avoid it. I was tired of the beating and quite frankly she wasn't very strong. I guess I did grow accustomed to my father's beatings.

Every time Nancy would hit me I would laugh and ask her if that was all she had. We did that for a few minutes. My body ached and my skin was about to break and release my blood all over the floor. Nancy had stopped. She had grown tired of hitting me and I had grown tired of taunting her.

She left after a few minutes of our stare down. I softly smiled. My body was ready to give in to my dark slumber and I smiled at the thought. Oh, my dark slumber how I have missed you. My escape.

Chapter 4 My Life Is Pain

A few hours passed and I was awakened by a deep voice. The sound of growling and hissing in an inhumane way came from the hallway just outside of the cell I was being kept. I sighed. I know exactly what it came from. A werewolf. By the way that the growling sounded, I knew that it was someone in power. Most likely the Beta since he wanted to see me earlier.

"What do you mean she isn't a wolf?!?" The strong voice hollered.

"I'm sorry Alpha I should have informed you as soon as I found out. You just seemed-" his voice was cut off by a slam on the wall. I flinched. I heard a growl and the opening of a door. I looked down and shut my eyes.

"You. Human. Look at me." The deep voice said.

I refuse. I will not be commanded by someone who is not my alpha.

"The alpha was speaking to you human. Answer him!" A female voice yelled. I knew that voice belonged to Nancy. Then again I don't care.

"First of all, I have a Name. Second of all he is not my alpha, he may be yours but he is my enemy." my voice broke the silence. I was surprised as to how strong it sounded. I felt a swish of air and then a sharp pain in my back. I softly opened my eyes and realized 'The Alpha' had thrown me against the wall. I slowly started to stand up. I was furious. I stood up and softly brushed off my clothing and started to laugh.

"That's all you have? My father was a Beta and still stronger than both of you. Take your best shot."

I was passed furious, now. I grabbed my shirt and lifted it just above my belly.

"Look at this. I'm accustomed to being abused. If you want to take a shot. Go ahead. The punching bag needs to be taught a lesson. Right?!" I screamed with tears in my eyes.

I lowered my shirt and look straight at Nancy. My gaze moved to 'The Alpha'

"C'mon All so mighty Alpha, take your best shot. Kill me for all I care I'm tired of this crap I call a life." I said in a mocking tone. My eyes settled on the Alpha and his eyes held so much emotion. For a split second, they held anger. Soon they were overflooded by lust, love, and pain.

Nancy walked towards me and lifted her hand. She was going to slam it against my cheek but before I could blink she was being hurled through the cell to the wall at the far end.

"Mate" Damien stated while standing in front of me.

His eyes started to sparkle there was a silver shine in them. The silver took up almost most of his eye. I wondered if he would go blind from that. Nancy recovered from the throw and stood up.

"Alpha?" She softly asked.

"No one will touch her... She is my mate.." His strong voice commanded.

Everyone in the cell stood frozen. "Alpha, she is a human. She is trash and needs be executed" One of the wolves came and grabbed my wrist.

He tightened his hold on me softly crushing my wrist. The alpha grabbed his hand and I swear I heard a cracking sound. The wolf whimpered. Yet the alpha didn't even flinch.

"MINE!" he yelled in the wolves face.

My body started to shake and I realize that my back had started bleeding once again. The room was way too humid. It started getting harder to breathe. I started taking in strong breaths of air but ended up panting. Damien looked at me with a worried look soon blackness started to overcome me. I felt my body go limp.

Chapter 5 Found My Mate

Damien's P.O.V

I had just gotten rid of Patricia. I sighed and fell back. She sure knows how to please a guy. Although she does have a tendency to think I care for her. She-wolfs never learn. Love is for the weak. Although I always did believe that I would one day find my mate and we would live happily ever after running the greatest and strongest pack, I knew that those chances were very slim. I was now 21 and still had no mate. By the age of 16 Alphas already obtained their mates from the pack. Considering that werewolves shifted at the age of 13. I, on the other hand, shifted at the age of 9. I took over as Alpha when my father was killed. I was only 14 at the time. The pack knew I would make a good leader because I didn't have a Luna. Luna's are the Alpha's mates yet are what make a man weak. In a way, I was sad and glad that I didn't have a mate. I didn't have any casualties. My enemies had nothing to hold against me. Making me the most powerful alpha in the U.S.

A knock on my door snapped me from my thoughts. My Beta, Mathew opened the door and walked in.

"Alpha... The She-Wolf is here..."

"Very Well show her to her room in the mansion"

"We have a slight problem Alpha.."

A slight problem? I don't like Problems. I like solutions.

"What is it?" I asked slightly agitated.

Mathew lowered his head.

"She isn't strong.." He said calmly.

Isn't strong? She was supposed to be the strongest pack member. Then again it wouldn't surprise me. They were a pretty crappy pack. Even the strongest member was weak. Yet Alpha Adam said his pack was strong, I scoffed at the thought.

"She will train double" I stated.

"It's not that easy Alpha." He softly whispered.

"Why not? Stop beating around the bush and tell me what is going on"I half yelled.

My agitation quite evident now.

Matthew slightly flinched at my reaction. I know that my eyes were now black. My wolf was ready to surface. My canines were already starting to show.

"She's human.." He stated.

"What? She is a what? A human? SHE'S A HUMAN!?!?" I yelled.

I knew that I was going to go insane. I was using all my strength to fight my wolf back. I quickly walked out of my room and walked to the prison ward. This human has some nerve! How dare she! Oh, but she will sure as hell, pay for this! I'll have her head mounted on my wall.

Once I reached the prison ward the guards bowed and let me through. They asked no questions. I walk to the center and an unfamiliar scent came to me. Probably the human. I noticed that my body relaxed once I inhaled the scent. It was sweet but not to the point where it made you feel as if you are in a candy shop. It smelled like violets and pineapple. Such a mouthwatering scent. I had to focus on what was happening. The scent was getting overwhelming. It made me lose my train of thought.

"Alpha..."

"Care to explain. What do you mean by she isn't a wolf" I growled.

"I'm sorry Alpha I should have informed you as soon as I found out. You just seemed-"

His voice was cut off. I had slammed him into one of the nearby walls. I opened the door to the cell. The scent hit me like a bag of bricks. This amazing mouthwatering scent. My wolf had calm down. I could almost hear him purring inside me. That's odd, he's never done that before. I had to snap out of my thoughts and focus on what was going on.

"You. Human. Look at me."

I said in a deep voice.

The human girl didn't move. Even flinch at my tone. That aggravated me, everyone else flinches yet she stayed in place. She's a human. I could kill her in one snap. She should be terrified and crying. Yet she didn't even look at me.

"The alpha was speaking to you human. Answer him!"Nancy yelled.

Again she didn't move. I know she isn't dead. I can hear her heart beating and her breathing in and out. Yet she shows no signs of fear. It's obvious someone has to teach her a lesson. She does not know how to act around her superiors.

"First of all, I have a name. Second of all he is not my alpha, he may be yours but he is my enemy."

Her angelic voice broke the silence. She seemed angered. I couldn't help but flinch when she spat out the word enemy. My wolf whined. That angered me. What is she doing to my wolf! I grabbed her by the stomach and flung her across the room to the opposite wall. He back hit it hard. My wolf whined once again and something tightened around my heart. I felt like I had someone knock the air out of me. I am now regretting that. She got up and dusted herself as nothing happened. Is she the daughter of Wonder Woman or something? Damn. Even my pack would be cowering by now, yet this human stood up and dusted herself as nothing happened. She started to laugh. That caught me off guard.

"That's all you have? My father was a Beta and still stronger than both of you. Take your best shot."

She said in an angered tone. I couldn't help but smile at her tone. Even though she was angry, her voice was like good music to my ears. She lifted her shirt and I saw her stomach was all bruised up and cut. I couldn't help but wince at the gruesome sight.

"Look at this. I'm accustomed to being abused. If you want to take a shot. Go ahead. The punching bag needs to be taught a lesson. Right" she hollered.

Tears started to fill her eyes. Abuse? Was she abused in her old pack? My wolf became quite agitated at the thought of her being beaten. She looked at Nancy and then her eyes settled on mine.

"C'mon All so mighty Alpha, take your best shot. Kill me for all I care I'm tired of this crap I call a life." She said in a mocking tone.

She was abused... That really angered my wolf. The fact that she would rather be dead made him howl in sadness, but once her eyes landed on mine. My wolf was on full alert. He howled with glee. 'Mate! Mate! Mate!' He screamed at me.

"Mate...?" I asked myself.

I was now standing in front of her. Although it sounded more like a statement than a question. Everyone in the room froze. My mate just stated into my eyes. I knew that my eyes were showing off the signature silver shine. I felt my eyes go blind for a second. They say that once you find your mate and both of you stare into each other's eyes for a long time there is a small silver shine in your eye. Alphas experience it more but mine was probably the most. I made me go partially blind for half a minute. This is a first. My wolf howled. I was fighting him, he wanted to come out and take his mate and make the bond official. He wanted intimacy with his mate. Right now it was just her and I. No one else mattered.

The faint sound of light footsteps made my mate look away from me. My wolf whimpered he had been enjoying his mates eyes on him. I too was enjoying those perfect sea green eyes on mine. Her eyes made me feel warm inside. When I heard footsteps get closer to my mate my wolf became protective right away. Nothing would hurt her ever again. I promise.

I turned to see Nancy raise her hand at my mate. She was about to slap her. That sight boiled my blood and I was quick to react. I grabbed her by the raised arm and threw her across the room. I heard a crack but I didn't care. As long as it isn't from my mate it doesn't matter to me.

"Alpha?" Nancy whispered once she recovered from my attack.

"No one will touch her... She is my mate...." I stated with authority.

I don't want anyone touching her, looking at her, breathing on her. I don't even want them to think about her. She was mine. All Mine, only mine. I looked back into those engulfing sea green eyes of hers. She was pulling me closer without even saying a word. Her gaze broke away from mine and she shot a glance down at her hand.

"Alpha, she is a human. She is trash and needs be executed" One of my cell ward wolves said while grabbing her wrist.

My wolf trembled with anger and agitation. I know I just said no one would touch her. I specifically said NO ONE! AM I SURROUNDED BY MORONS?! I grabbed him by the wrist as well. I tightened my grip on his wrist until I heard a crack. He whimpered.

"MINE!!!!" I yelled in his face.

I let go and he backed away. I turned to my mate to see her almost fall. I quickly grabbed her while she fainted.

Will The Alpha protect me or abuse me?

Kindly Share this Post using the Share Tab below and follow all our Social Media Handles to Keep up with Our Daily News Update.

Click to Follow us on Facebook

Click to follow us on Instagram

Click to follow us on Twitter

Donate to Torixus to help us Grow (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

via Blogger https://ift.tt/35XwH92

#Story

0 notes