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venactricisfics · 4 years ago

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Malibu Desert

Chapter Nineteen

Finding something of my own.

Tag List: @wanderlust75 @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo

Master List

I tuck a loose copper curl behind my ear as I peck at the keys of my computer. It was quiet in our big house with Bishop out at the clubhouse. And I was home alone with my work. It should be easier to work without anyone else underfoot. But the emptiness of the house was distracting.

I glanced over the list of things that Vicki and her girls needed then placed the order. I had a med student scheduled to go over and perform exams with me later in the week. Everything with Vicki was working out fine. I just wrote the checks. But I wanted to work. To do more.

I chewed on my lip and stared at my phone and typed out her number. I wasn’t exactly sure what exactly I had to discuss with the wife of Miguel Galindo but she had a foothold in this town that I didn’t have yet and maybe we could work together on something to make things better. I hoped my connections paired with the force of the Galindos could boost us both into legitimate business.

“Hello?” her voice sounded confused when she answered. I suppose my own would be if I got a call from some strange woman.

“Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Galindo, we haven’t met officially but I do have some business dealings with your husband and was seeing if you needed any assistance with some more humanitarian businesses,” I state.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” she asked.

“I keep missing introductions,” I smile into the phone, “I’m Nova O’Shay, I’d be more than happy to discuss this in person,” I take note of the time, “Lunch?”

“I have some time free in about an hour,” she responds, “I’ll text you the restaurant.”

---

I pull my SUV to a stop outside the restaurant. Swankier place that the ones I’d dined at since coming to Santo Padre. I tried to picture Bishop and his Mayans pushing their way through the doors. All eyes would be on them. I can’t help but smile at the thought.

I never saw Emily Galindo before in my life but I knew her when I saw her. She was exactly what I’d pictured a trophy wife to look like. But she had a subtle spark. If we worked together we may ignite that into a roaring flame. She seemed to know me as well.

“Thank you for meeting,” I stated after our orders were taken. “I can see you’re a little like me. You love your man, but you want a piece of the world that’s yours by right and not his?”

She nods listening, “You could say that.”

“I’ve got my fingers in my father’s businesses, also helping Bishop with some club business, but I want something that’s separate from that.”

“I get that,” Emily responded, “that’s why I’ve been working so hard on an agricultural development with the city. Should find out about the bids in the next few days. If you’d be willing to step in, it can be something I can do without Miguel.”

“I would be willing, I have contractor connections here and abroad,” I respond, “we can get this town thriving. It’s the least I can do to give back to the town that took me in and saved me when I needed saving.”

“Then it’s a deal?” she replied.

“I’ll call the lawyers and get the papers drawn up,” I cut into my chicken, “this is good. I’ve never eaten here before. But I’ve only been in Santo Padre for about a year. Came just before the fires.”

“The fires took so much from the town, the agra park deal is something we can do to build it back again,” she responded, “I think we can do something great here.”

“We can,” I respond, reaching for the check after it’s left, “I got it.” I pay the bill and walk with her outside. “We’ll talk soon, Mrs. Galindo.”

“Please call me Emily,” she says, “Mrs. Galindo is my mother in law.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I offer a smile and slide behind the wheel of my SUV.

I want nothing more than to see Bishop. Have his arms wrapped around me. I laughed at myself while pulling to a stop in the scrap yard, we had been apart for a few hours and I was already missing him. I had it bad.

Their bikes were gone. I narrowed my brows and walked up the steps into the clubhouse. Letty, Coco’s daughter, sat at a table with another girl I’d never seen before. She didn’t look like any of the girls that hung around the club house.

“Where is everyone?” I take a seat at the table with them. “I’ve never seen the clubhouse so empty in the middle of the day.”

“That story is long as fuck,” Letty said with a chuckle, “This is Gabby. Her family just came over, used a coyote. Another club is trying to scam her family out of money. The Mayans are taking care of it.”

“Nice to meet you,” I should have given her a smile, but worry was eating at the pit of my stomach, “How long have they been gone?”

“Seems like forever,” she replied. “Should be back soon.”

I perk up hearing the revving of Harley’s coming through the gate. I follow behind the girls feeling the weight of my fear lifted when Bishop climbs up the steps. His face covered in dirt and grime and the stench of smoke clung to his leather vest. There was a weariness that mirrored back from his dark eyes,“I’m ok, querida.” I cup his face in my hands analyzing every inch. Satisfied he’s unharmed I turn to see that Gabby has found her family.

I realized at that moment Bishop was my family now. If anything happened to him, I’d lose a part of myself. “As long as you were careful.” I press my lips to his.

“Always am,” he drapes his arm around my shoulders as he leads me back in the clubhouse. His smile didn’t seem genuine. Like he had a weight on him.

“You wanna talk about it?” I search his face for answers.

“It was fucked up shit,” he says softly, “it’s over now.” I give a nod. I didn’t quite believe him but I wouldn’t press it. He’d tell me if he could. Or when he was ready.

The sun dipped in the sky as we set down at the bar. My hand massages his thigh as he takes shot after shot. “You know what you're getting yourself into there, querida?” he smirks glancing down at his lap then back up at me.

“Uh huh,” I say softly as I trace the length of him through his jeans. His eyes dark from as he leans over lips dancing over my ear, “You know I still can’t have you grabbing my dick in front of my guys,” his fingers tangle in my hair, “let me take you home.”

“It’s still early,” I whisper back, “but I do want you to take me. Meet me in the dorm?”

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles taking my hand, “there’s no need to be stealth, we go back there everyone knows what we’re doing anyway.” I feel my cheeks flush and let him lead me down the hall. The moment the door closes behind me, his lips crash down on mine. I wrap my arms around him eager to feel every inch of him pressing against me. I moaned into the kiss at just the feel of his hand on my bare flesh as he inches my shirt up higher. Reluctantly breaking the kiss so he can tug it up over my head. He leads me backwards to the bed.

“Bishop, please,” I moan loudly as I feel his thickness grinding into me. My fingers fumble with his belt and lift my hips so that he can tug my jeans down. I let out a groan as he pushed himself deep inside me.

“That what you wanted, hermosa?” he growled in my ear. He pulled back, hooked my legs over his arms before driving hard and deep inside me. “Yes,” I whimpered. Echoes of my moans and the sound of our bodies slapping together fill the room. My walls vice around him as my orgasm washes over me, milking him as he chases his own.

A satisfied smile stretches across my face as we emerge from the dorm. My fingers laced with Bishop’s as we headed back to the bar.

“Bishop, please,” Angel mocks from behind me. And my face turns a bright red.

#Mayan #Mayans MC #bishop losa x reader #Bishop x OC #SOA #bishop losa smut #mayans smut #sons of anarchy

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tales-unique · 4 years ago

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MEMORIES OF THE WEST V

Chapter 5

The only time Saint Denis seemed peaceful was early in the morning. The sun had barely risen an hour or so before Arthur found you descending the white steps into the street, dressed in a pale yellow pinstripe blouse and flowing black skirt. Scuffing your tapered boots in annoyance, you look about yourself with a scowl on your face. You have a delicate ornate fan in hand, swatting it ceaselessly to dispel the early morning heat that plagues you. “Mornin’ Miss DuBois,” he calls, tipping his hat in greeting, “you’re out early.” “Mister Morgan, good morning,” you chirp, regarding him with a tight-lipped smile. “I just had to get out,” you hiss, the beating of your fan a sharp tempo accompaniment to your words, “this heat is awful !” Arthur chuckles, motioning for you to walk with him. “Yeah, it is,” he agrees, feeling the sweat bead on the back of his neck where the sun beats down on him relentlessly.

You walk side by side on the cobblestone streets, taking in the relative quiet. A lone carriage rumbles by, a couple strolls past you and you greet them cordially. It's pleasant, but it won't last. "So, what’s the plan?" He asks, hooking his thumb in his belt loop, "how do you wanna approach this whole thing with Jebediah?" Not one to beat around the bush, Arthur wanted to have at least the bare bones of a plan in place. The last thing they needed was to create more problems, especially ones that would involve the law. That arrogant bastard probably had them all on his payroll. "Well, it's not going to be easy," you sigh, coming to a stop outside the tailor's shop, perusing the wares on display in the window. "Jebediah doesn't like you one bit , Arthur," you click your tongue, regarding his reflection. You can certainly see why. He's dressed in a simple white button up with the sleeves rolled up and a fitted blue waistcoat that shows just how broad and defined he is. The faded blue jeans and black cowboy boots complete the look, and you take extra care not to spend too long staring at the way the denim hugs his muscular thighs. He scoffs, shaking his head. If he notices you staring he doesn't say anything, much to your relief. "That so? I really couldn't tell!" He huffs, harsh sarcasm dripping from each word. Turning on your heel you simply smile up at him, you even dare to flutter your lashes. "Don't worry about that Arthur, I've got it handled," you tell him, your smile turning mischievous. "What are you up to?" He asks warily, narrowing his eyes at you. "It's nothing bad !" You grumble, fanning your face. Standing still let the heat cling to you and it was sending you dizzy. Arthur follows your lead when you start walking again, falling into line at your side. You casually make your way towards one of the gardens, trying to keep in the shade and the minimal relief it brings as much as you can. "I just commented on how safe I would feel if I had someone with me, and broached the idea of having my own personal bodyguard, is all," you comment flippantly, glancing at him, "and maybe I managed to convince Jebediah to hire you for just that very position." "Well I'll be damned!" Arthur exclaims, impressed you were able to pull off such a feat. "What can I say? I know how to play the damsel when I need to," you preen, rolling your eyes playfully. Not only was Arthur possibly going to get away with a large sum of money and other riches, but he was going to be paid for the privilege. It's almost too good to be true, but he bites his tongue. You look so proud of yourself and he can't bring himself to rain on your parade. If things go sour he can figure it out, he always manages to somehow. The flow of conversation comes easily as you continue to walk, taking your time leisurely to admire the botanical centerpieces in the gardens. Saint Denis always did have the most beautiful flowers and bushes and you often went there when you needed time to reflect and collect yourself. "We should probably get you back," Arthur hums, "or that brother of yours might send out the whole damn cavalry to find you this time!" The comment forces a snort out of you, hiding your snickering behind your fan. It's funny because it's a scenario you can definitely see happening, not that you'd blame him. William had been overly cautious ever since you had come back, terrified of letting you go out alone even for the simplest of things. While you could appreciate his fears it was becoming stifling and you didn't know how much you could take. "Come on," Arthur chuckles. Neither of you want to go back, especially knowing that you have to force yourselves to perform roles you didn't care for, but do it you must. That doesn't mean you don't take your sweet time doing it, though.

“Don’t walk away from me, William! We are not done talkin’ about this!” “Why do you have to turn everything into an argument?” “Oh, I do apologize! I suppose I shouldn’t be angry when somethin’ is arranged about me when I’m not even in the damn room !” You hadn’t been back in the apartment barely half an hour before you and your brother were embroiled in a heated argument. Arthur stood off to the side, leaning against the wall by the window, deciding right quick that he wasn’t going to get in the middle of it. You more than had this handled, if your imposing stance and downright mean glare had anything to say about it. Even Jebediah, as disgruntled over the whole affair as he was, didn’t interfere when you started biting back. “It’s just for a couple of weeks, sister!” William rebukes in a defensive hiss, throwing his hands up in the air, “Jebediah feels that—” “—Jebediah! So Jebediah feels like I should be plucked from my own home just because he says so! Why didn’t you say so? I’ll go pack my bags right now, shall I?” You snap, hands pinned tightly to your hips. Arthur can see the way you’re gripping the fabric there so tight your knuckles are turning white. You’re angrier than a wildcat with its tail on fire and it’s too much for William to take. He falters, all that built up bravado in front of the man he idolizes, the man who swindled him, suddenly wilting in the face of real fire. “I-I just think it’s a good idea, after everything that’s happened,” William tries to reason with you, but there’s no conviction to his voice, “you know Lady Kramer loves it when you stay with her, and it gives Jebediah time to get the wedding in order!” The mere mention of the wedding makes you bristle and you open your mouth to scream how there will be no damn wedding , but you hesitate. Your fiery gaze flits between William, Jebediah, and Arthur, the last of which regards you with a look of warning. It sobers you, making you think about the consequences of your actions. You inhale deeply, grounding yourself as best you can; you’re still brimming with anger, but at least you’re not ready to commit murder. “I’m not going anywhere , William,” you speak with a sense of finality that has William reeling from the vicious bite of it. The tension is still rife in your stance when you turn away from him to face Jebediah. His sharp eyes watch you closely through the smoke of his lit cigar, regarding you with an air of condescension that you return ten fold before striding towards the door. You stop just before leaving, your hand on the handle. “You coming, Arthur?” It’s subdued, nothing at all like the brimstone and fire you were spitting moments ago. The flames have simmered down until nothing but embers were left, your eyes imploring as they look at him. Arthur stands straighter, sizing up Jebediah as he passes him. The pompous snake seethes as he follows you, noticing the way you smile at him all soft like before shooting him a look of contempt as you leave. Outside the door, you let out a deep breath and rub your face. God, those men made you so mad. Arthur barely closes the door behind him before you’re stalking off, having to hurry his steps just to catch up with you. He matches your pace at the top of the stairs, eyeing you like you’re a coiled viper about to strike. “Well that was something,” he remarks. “Oh, go dunk your head in the river!” There’s no malice in your retort, just an annoyance that isn’t aimed at him. You descend the stairs with a swiftness that catches Arthur off guard, your dress front scrunched up in your hands so you don’t trip. “Don’t fall now,” Arthur mocks, a mix of sardonic humor and genuine concern. The last thing he needs right now is for you to trip down the stairs and break your neck because you’re all wound up. You curse him under your breath, feet hurriedly taking you out into the street without so much as a backwards glance. You just want to get away , but not under someone else's instruction. “What now?” He asks, coming to a stop at your side. A look of consideration crosses your face, your brow creasing

in thought. Then, you perk up, practically glowing. “I think it’s time you meet my Ginger,” you grin, excited as you bounce on the balls on your feet. “Ginger? Who’s Ginger?” “Just c’mon!” You roll your eyes at him, already walking ahead of him. You laugh that pretty laugh you do when you’re all kinds of excited as you quicken your pace to a playful trot just to keep ahead of him, causing Arthur to smile despite his grumblings. You were already feeling lighter now that your mind was taken away from the issues at home, focused instead on the true love of your life. When you come to stop outside of the Saint Denis Stables Arthur stares up at the big painted letters, perplexed. He feels like a goddamn fool ; who in their right mind would name their kid Ginger? “There she is!” You grin, hurrying up to a stall at the far end. The scent of hay and horses is rife inside, but it doesn’t seem to faze you. In fact, Arthur swears you look more at home here than you do in that dollhouse apartment of yours. Seems that country upbringing never left you and he wonders to himself just how you looked out there on the plains, young and spirited, wrangling wild broncos to bring back home. He coughs, the image a little too good for him to be imagining. Instead, he follows after you, noticing how the stable hands all greet you by name. You must spend a lot of time there, but that doesn’t surprise Arthur, given how animated you are about your horse. True to her namesake, a beautiful chestnut Kentucky Saddler mare stands to attention in the stall, ears forward and focused on you. There’s a bold blaze of white down her face that covers her muzzle and her eyes, dark and intense, follow your movements easily as you reach your arms to her. “There’s my good girl,” you coo, giggling when she whinnies in response. The gentleness she shows you as she trots up to you, pressing herself into your awaiting arms, is compelling; the nag truly trusts you, and you clearly love her just as much. Arthur knows how good it feels to have that trusted bond with an animal, feeling the same way about his own stallion. A snort to his right catches his attention; speak of the devil and he shall appear. The Ardennes paws at the ground of his stall, none too pleased at being ignored. Arthur chuckles, moving to scratch his neck as the large beast stretches his head over the gate. “I had him put in the stall next to Ginger,” you explain, smiling warmly at the display, “I thought he’d like the company.” “I imagine he’s grateful for the fine company, thank you,” Arthur chuckles, patting his horse's neck. The display of affection sends your heart aflutter as you watch, colour dusting your cheeks. If he were to ask you’d play it off as the heat, but you knew it was more than that. You could see that Arthur had a soft spot for his horse, treating the stallion with the respect and kindness that he deserved, and you liked that about him. In fact, you were finding a lot to like about the outlaw, now that you actually took the time to think about it, and the thought unsettled you — could you really let yourself fall for a gunslinger?

#RDR2 #RDR2 Imagine #RDR2 Imagines #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Red Dead Redemption 2 Imagine #Red Dead Redemption 2 Imagines #Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan Imagine #Arthur Morgan Imagines #Arthur Morgan x Reader

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the-fiction-witch · 4 years ago

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The Witch

MOVIE THE LAST LEGION AGE UP COUPLE: ROMULUS X READER RATING: SMUT

I stood leant on the balcony looking out across the city, watching the villages on the other side of the mountain… they were burning, the smoke rising high into the sky, the flames illuminating the stars, we had sent a legion but they had been slaughtered along with the hundreds of men, women and children defenceless and slaughtered. My advisors were idiots, my staff useless. I feared for those in the city and the palace, the hundreds and thousands here that would die if our walls were to be breached.

I knew what had to be done, but I was fearful to do it.

"Romulus My king, please, you must reconsider" my father said as we walked down the hallowed palace halls

"Reconsider? What other hope have I got?"

"Our walls with prevail the legions will destroy them before they step foot into the city"

"Yeah we send one to protect the villages… how well did that go"

"Those were rural mountain villages, now where near the strength or security of the city”

“And what happens if they do get through the wall?”

“The army will-”

“What happens. If they get though?”

“If they get though” He says “The moment one of the barbarian men steps foot in on the city stone, We will have you halfway to britannia”

“So, you want me to run off to Britannia with my tail between my legs? While my people die for me? While they suffer under a barbarian ruler? While children are tortured? While women are raped in the streets? Men forced into amries? While I hide myself away in Britannia hiding away in some dirty, muddy, tiny little hole while he destroys everything my ancestors have built?”

“Why not come sit in with the senet we will discuss the attack and matters” “The senet is a bunch of men sitting around with titles from a hundred years ago. What is that going to help?”

“They know the city better than anyone” “The beggars in the street know the city better the senet never leaves the palace” I sighed

“Then why not go to the vestals? They always have good advice for the kings”

“Ohh so you want me to go sit around with a bunch of honry old virgins? And philosophers who cut their dicks off?”

“Then go to the library and discuss with the Philosophers?”

“Ohh please, Unless I’m a new constellation, some old books or a cannabis bath they couldn’t give less of a shit” I sighed

“Then go to the temple my king, discuss with the gods. Think things over in their presence” He says “Speak with Minerva, Take council with Mars,”

“I’m going to the temple… just not theres”

“I still do not advise it my king”

“Well that's all it is. Advice” I said “I’m going to see her”

“You know the sort of things people…. Will say they see you going there?”

“I know. But I need power… and wisdom. Older, Stronger than the twelve”

I could feel my fear, thick inside my heart, getting heavier, harder, Like… I wanted to run away with every step I took closer, my escort followed me as did two slaves heading though the city past people all adoring but even the people had fear knowing the trouble coming and some knowing… where I was going. I walked the walk of gods where the temples all sat, I past Vesta and Vulcan, Past ceres and Minerva, Past Apollo and Diana, Past Venus, Past Neptune, Past mercury and mars, Past Pulto, Past juno and Jupiter… but I stopped a moment and nodded to the female slave who carried the offerings she nodded and took some of the flowers to juno and jupiter's statues as I felt there eyes watched me. Once she came back I continued until reaching the end of the road where the temple of Luna sat.

I went inside the empty temple, the black stone mosaic floor clean and the roof open to allow in the sun but at the right times the moon. I went to the statue and left all the flowers there and I saw the door at the side

“Stay here, I need to see her alone” I said. They nodded so I headed to the door and down the stone steps deeper below the temple. Each stone step was dusty, and felt Ill trodden.

I got to the chamber firelight cascading across the room and a woman in black knelt on the stone.

“Greetings My king” she said

“Greetings Lady of the Moon” I said

“What is it you seak?”

“You know what I seak”

She stopped and turned to me pulling the hood of her dress down revealing her shock white hair

“You seak her?”

“I do.”

“You know what darkness lurks there?”

“I do. Please…. I need her.”

“I can send you there… but I cannot be held accountable for if you return”

“I know that. But I must see her”

"....very well. You know where she is"

"Thank you" I nodded hurrying out the temple.

I stood changing my clothes to look plain so I could walk freely wrapping a brown cloak around me,

"Please let someone accompany you"

"No. I don't wanna scare her. I take an army boy she'll think I'm arresting her, besides I need to be quiet, quick and unnoticed. She already knows I'm coming if she's going to hurt me there is little we can do about it"

"My king… as one of your oldest and most trusted advisors make I speak plainly"

"Yes."

"I think you are betraying the gods. Your people. And your ansestors. Romulus… I have severed your family my whole life, served your father and mother while you rested in her womb and I have seved you every day you have been king… I beg of you. Do not go to her"

"I must. And honestly…" I said "I want to see her"

"Very well my king" he nods

I took my things and scurried out the palace like a theif, sneaking thought the city as best I could trying not to draw attention to myself keeping my hood up so people didn't see who I was, I got to the city gate out to the woods seeing travelers coming in to find rooms for the night, women coming in from walks in the woods with there baskets, traders headed in and out but I walked straight out.

I felt so strange but I kept walking deeper and deeper into the woods, walking the pathway between the trees and animal burrows flowing the trail of lavender flowers that grow along the walk, there purple glow in the setting sun leading me to her.

I stopped, as I arrived.

The smell of grass, lavender and smoke filled my sinuses.

The sound of music from within, the wind in the tree's like voices, the movements of the branches and grass all seemed muted here.

I could feel grass and small sticks under my feet.

As I looked apon the house.

It was a small thached cottage with firelight beyond the windows, smoke coming from the chimneys, a wooden fence around the garden where herbs and flowers grew a gate in the fence sat close to me open already, beside the gate was a little apothecary shelf with a few bottles of things.

I stepped inside the gate shutting it behind me pulling down my hood stepping in the stone wedged into the dirt to avoid touching any plants I went to the blue door tapping three times.

The door creaked open, I exhaled to calm me down before stepping inside, I shut the door behind me looking at the cottage, it was dark the fire going yet it did illuminate much, herbs sat on windowsills and tools in tables, a bed by the side with gosomer red and purple curtains and sheets with lots of pillows, symbols carved into anything wood or stone, the smell of something sweet over the fire and I saw her across the room sat surrounded by candles in her black dress she faced away from me her hair tightly wound around her head, working one something at her desk, lightly humming as she did.

I stood a moment just listening to her hum, to the fire crack all of it muffled by the sound of my own heart beating in my ears.

"I-" I began

"Romulus Augustus, king of rome, second if his name right, blood of Cesar, the boy king" she says "good evening"

"Good evening miss."

"You don't have to you know"

"Don't have to what?" I asked

"Go see her. If you would like to come see me romulus you have only to come see me" she says mixing potions

"I like to, so you know I'm coming"

"I always know when your coming" she giggled

"I know you do. But still"

"I know why your here"

"I don't doubt you do." I said "you know everything else"

"Not everything"

"Almost everything"

"You know I can't romulus. It's not fair"

"How is it not? He believes himself a god carries dark magic with him it's only leveling the battle field"

"And I'm sure he'd say the same if he found out you had first"

"Y/n. Please"

"My magic isn't strong enough for that romulus"

"Isn't strong enough? I've seen the power you have…" I said going over to her wrapping my arms around her neck and kissing her hair "I know you can. Please… thousands in the city will die if you don't"

"And thousands of them will die if I do" she says turning to face me going to get up and walk somewhere else but I held her hand

"If your alligence to me? Or to him?"

"Neither of you" she says "I don't fight. For either side" she says moving away to go to the fire

"You've seen what will happen if you don't? Haven't you?"

"I have"

"Tell me"

"No. Knowone should know there-"

"Tell me!" I snapped "by order of the king you will tell me"

"I…. Romulus I can't" she said holding back tears I went over and pulled her to my chest kissing her hair

"I'll die. Won't I?"

She nods

"And if you do?"

"Then he dies"

"Y/n… I know that can't be easy. But would you listen anyway?"

"Okay" she nods

"If you help me, I can give you anything, you'll save thousands of men, women and children in the city, save generations of art, books, sculptures that you'll know he'll destroy if he can and… and I'll owe you my life. And anything I have the power to give you I will. Land, a title, servents, a castle, whatever you want in this world I will do it for you, if you just do this...for me"

"Romulus, he's my father" she says

"He abused you, abandoned you, murdered your mother, I know he's your father but he has never once treated you like his daughter," I explain "atleast I wouldn't hurt you, I care about you… my little witch" I smiled caressing her cheek

"Romulus, you know I can't" she says pushing me away and going back to her work

"So you'll let me die?" I asked she didn't answer "... I thought you loved me?"

"I do"

"You love me? Your the only one who can help and your going to let me die?"

"Romulus! I can't"

"Why not?" I asked her "give me one good reason why you can't?" She didn't answer just sitting there staring at the fire "well?"

"Relax. I already did" she smiled

"What?"

"Seriously romulus I did it hours ago. Before you even left home"

"... You evil little thing! You really had be going there didn't you!"

"It's fun" she giggled

"What do you need for doing it?" I asked

"The usual"

"Alright" I smiled getting the coins out my bag and the little bag of treats from the palace kitchens

"Thank you" she giggled taking the to put them elsewhere in her house

"Your welcome my little witch. Thank you for doing so"

"I have to take care of you" she smiled "speaking of which?"

"Is it that time again already?"

"Humm"

"Alright," I smirked slipping off my cloak and my bag leaving them by the door I went over to the bed perching myself on the edge leaning in my elbows as she came over and began untieing my pants hooking her finger into each loop of the string pulling hard and so each loop and knot undid until they where completely untied she pulled them down enough that my cock jumped free excited to see her, I bit my lip hard watching her undo the small leather corset around her waist letting it drop to the floor which allowed her dress that noticably wasn't tied together in the centre as it should have been, she took each side and pulled it off letting it pool in the floor around her leaving her completely naked. I tried not to moan just looking at that beautiful body. She let her hair down completely and pushed me back in the bed I smirked back and moved to be laid in her bed as she crawled ontop of me sitting so my cock nuzzled between the lips of her pussy. I went to touch her breasts but she slapped my hands away

"You know the rules" she says

"I know" I blushed "I pledge my heart, my soul and my body, willingly and ...excited"

"I pledge my heart, my body, and my soul willingly" she giggled before she lent down and kissed me, those lips as soft and sweet as last I was here. I kissed back eagerly as I felt her undoing my shirt so I took over and pulled it off throwing it off the bed she smirked sitting up and next I knew I was inside her

"Uughhh y/n!" I groaned grabbing her hips feeling how warm and soft she was around me

She gasped as she reached the hilt and moved over grabbing something from her table as she did the way she leant her breasts where in my face so I smirked nuzzling with them and giving them kisses

"Romulus!" She giggled pushing me away

"Aww come on! You can't wave them in my face and not expect me to give them a kiss" I smirked

“Dirty boy” she smirked holding her knife she cut her hand she offered the knife so I let her cut my hand and I took her hand tightly feeling my heart beating out of my chest as she began to move …

#the last legion #Romulus Augustus #Romulus #Thomas #thomasbrodiesangster #thomassangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster i #thomas brodie sangster s #thomas smut #thomas sangster x reader #thomas sangster smut #thomas sangster imagine

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goodgirlsfanficawards · 4 years ago

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For Week 2 of Fic Back Friday we’ve got five fics from May 2020! Whether you’re rereading or it’s the first time, stop by and show these stories some love.

Like Icarus Who Flies to the Sun by kibasniper

03 May 2020, T, 1.1K, 1/1, 12 kudos

I know the look of suffering. I’ve seen it on every single face of my clients. They’re withered, pale, and have been through shit that I wouldn’t want happening to my daughter.

But they aren’t inscrutable. No, not at all. In fact, most of them are easily understood. A background check later, in which I poured hours into researching, and I know my client’s entire history, along with the path they’ve trekked with the one they want dead. They’re always intertwined, you see. After all, you can’t want somebody killed without a proper reason. They usually share a long-winded, complicated history filled with unspeakable torment and abuse, the finer details bloody and gruesome, and the client will finally reach out to me because they simply have nowhere left to turn, all options exhausted, that little fire of hope ready to burn out.

I don’t consider myself someone’s salvation, of course. That would be comparing me to an angel when I’m merely a professional. When I snuff out someone’s life, it’s clinical and precise, practised and executed all according to the client's will. I need their full permission to fire in order for there to not be any regrets. I don’t need their sorrow weighing me down when it’s time; it might affect my trigger finger.

Your soul is haunting me. by bethrio / @bethrio

5 May 2020, E, 3K, 1/1 chapters, 103 kudos

I’ll take a dip.

She grips the bed sheet even harder, her whole body shaking as she gets closer to the edge.

Wanna join me?

Yes, Beth minds screams, yes! She lets go of the bed sheet and grabs one of her breasts as the other hand works the vibrator against her cunt. She imagines the way he looks at them, at her, and the image of them fucking in a hot tub.

She comes hard, shaking for too long afterwards, feels the ache that had built up for some time disappear.

Only, then the guilt comes in full speed. Beth hasn’t felt guilty about masturbating in over 20 years when she learnt it’s okay for women to do it, but she knows this isn’t what that is. She wishes it were that that she felt guilty about, would welcome back that guilt any day.

No, she knows it’s because of him. She shot him, stole from him, is still waiting for the hitman to kill him and yet he’s the only one who can– who’s in her thoughts– when she does this.

Cupcake by Melaniemia

28 May 2020, T, 1.6K, 196 kudos

“What happened, Elizabeth?” he breathed, pulled her hands so she was forced to walk around the counter to stand in front of him. He reached up and pushed a long red curl away from her eyes.

“I hate when you do that.” she muttered, closing her eyes briefly at the contact and further avoiding the question.

“Wont happen again.” he promised, stepping back from her and sitting in the chair she had occupied moments earlier.

“You hold a gun to my head, you threaten the lives of people I love, and then you turn around and make me think you might actually care about me.” the weight of the day was pressing down on her and the adrenaline was fading away, leaving her emotional and hurt.

“No rule that says you can't threaten to kill a woman and not still care a little about her.” Rio shrugged, a smirk gracing her features.

will we think about tomorrow like we think about now by fortunehasgivenup

26 May 2020, T, 5.9K, 1/1 chapter, 243 kudos

Oh god, he’s making a show of it. This wasn’t part of the - okay, it was, but still! Beth imagines that she could fry an egg on her cheeks as Rio walks with her up the stairs slowly, saying hi to some people that he knows.

Finally, he lets her take a seat, but rather than taking the open spot next to her, he climbs up to the next level of seats and sits behind her, his feet on the bleachers on either side of her hips, and leans forward.

“You cold?” he asks, arm settling on her shoulder so that his hand is dangling down over her chest.

“I’m good,” Beth gets out.

Beth hadn’t given much thought to how…intimate this position would feel after a few minutes. She can feel it every time that Rio shifts as they chat about nothing.

She realizes when Tasha must come into view because Rio slides forward so she’s almost pressed against his groin. “Lean back,” he murmurs, so she does. Except she’s not sure what to do with her hands now. Like he can hear her thoughts, Rio reaches down and takes both of her hands in his.

Bad Moon Rising by jesbakescookies / @jesbakescookies

11 May 2020, M, 26K, 4/4 chapters, 355 kudos

Beth laid in bed, as her phone played what had become her death march. The flashes of Rio’s shocked expression as she pulled the trigger kept replaying. The piercing sound that followed still rang in her ear. Slowly Beth raised her hand to her temple, her fingers trembling as she searched the silky smooth skin for injury. There was no sign of the attempt she’d made on her own life.

Beth just couldn’t take it any longer. It seemed as though she would never escape the torture of reliving the worst day of her life. She’d tried everything. The utter despair of realizing that no matter what she did, she’d always wake up to see the same day was too much.

All of those thoughts and feelings bubbled up when Rio snapped at her, pushing her to kill the man bound at their feet.

Beth hadn’t even realize the gun was pressed against her temple until she looked up at Rio’s expression.

She almost couldn’t believe she’d done it, but she most definitely wasn’t surprised that she woke up to the same old song. Her heart felt both heavy and vacant. A cold numbness snuffing out everything inside her like water over flame.

If you know of anyone’s tumblr/twitter and we haven’t found it or tagged incorrectly, please send us an ask to let us know.

#good girls nbc #nbc good girls #beth x rio #brio fanfiction #brio fanfic #good girls fanfiction #good girls fanfic #fic back friday

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bloodys44 · 4 years ago

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Silence and Cigarette Smoke

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

Chapter 8 was just posted on ff.net if ya wanna read ahead :) Enjoy!

Chapter 5: The Smoke That Smells of Grief

788

The wind was vicious that morning, tearing through the gnarled streets of Stella without mercy. Lucy was sure the raw skin of her cheeks would soon crack from the terrifying force and the wicked chill. She had never liked the wind, it was annoying and wild to say the very least. But today, she stood without complaint. Mother Nature was lashing out, heartbroken by the death of her daughter, a sky goddess. She had a right to be mad, and her anger was excused. And Lucy decided that her opinion on what she hated and what she loved was very askew, if not evidence enough by the cigarette perched on her lip. She had stolen a few from Natsu's extra pack, the one tucked discreetly at the bottom of his bag. Hidden, because he told Lucy he didn't smoke as much as he really did. It was probably so she didn't worry, which she definitely did, so maybe he was right to do so. Hopefully, he wouldn't be too upset about parting with three.

Natsu's cigarettes were nice. He rolled them himself, with extreme care, and chard a symbol of a flame on every filter. He said it was so he could tell them apart from Grey's, back when they were forced to share a room after bursting pipes flooded the guild. Yet even now, years after parting with his roommate, he still took the time to do it. They reminded her of the ones her father used to smoke, so maybe he just wanted to smoke something that felt luxurious. Regardless, the warm burn she felt in her chest on every inhale was arguably the only thing keeping her grounded to reality. It told her that yes, she was breathing. And yes, she was alive.

They had decided to spend the night in a forgotten and long-abandoned apartment building near the edge of town. Natsu said they looked far too skittish and ragged to waltz into a public inn. He was right of course, the whole townscape was alive and rabid after all the excitement the previous evening. The building wasn't so bad either, lack the smell of rotted wood and soaked cement. They had lucked out, finding a room with neglected furniture and a somewhat working bathroom sink and, much to Natsu's excitement, a sealed jar of moonshine. The apartment was small and rather bizarrely laid out. A hall winding around the abandoned rooms like an ominous mazed shell. The drain located in the kitchen sink smelled of bloated decomposing and the bathroom was a ghastly shade of green that Lucy was sure, shouldn't exist. But, it was somewhat warm and out of the evening rain, so really, she couldn't complain. The 'bedroom' had a weird octagonal shape and held nothing but a singular partly disintegrated mattress shoved against the far wall. The grungy bathroom with the working sink was linked with a doorless frame to the left of the one leading into the bedroom. To the right was a door-styled window that opened to a small rust ridden deck. That's where Lucy was now, shivering against the malicious wind and pretending she wasn't cold. Puffing away on a cigarette that looked so out of place in her hand while she tried not to cry. The more she tried to wrap her head around last night's awful adventure, the more it felt like some sick hallucinated joke over anything real. With a final exaggerated exhale Lucy flicked the defeated roll of tobacco over the terrace railing, leaning heavily on it and losing herself in the cryptic groan the metal gave while she watched it fall. She didn't know what to do, her usually organized mind was spinning in her skull and her thoughts came out of order in relentless spurts. The image of Lissana's blood soaking into the dirt packed earth did nothing but jar repressed memories of her mother. Memories of the day she hadn't listened to her warning and glanced back while running through the crowd. Memories of that disgustingly prominent guillotine blade slicing her head clean off and soaking the earth with her blood just the same. It even sounded the same, the tearing of human flesh. The thought churned her stomach roughly and forced a violent gag. The burning laceration at the side of her throat pulling in a very dreadful way, which in turn did very little to help sway her thoughts from where they were currently stationed.

She had been drowning in her own brain from the moment they arrived at their camp late last night, and she was sure she wouldn't be free to stop anytime soon. Replaying all her actions, trying to see what she could have done better. The answer to that was a whole hell of a lot, starting at the beginning when she ignored Natsu's rightly nervous warnings. He was always right about these things, she should have listened. This, though, also caused agitation, because how could somebody that had practical cabbage for brains always be right. She prided herself on her intellect, but her street skills were becoming a chronically flunked elective. And there Natsu would be to prove her wrong, standing strong and ready to save the day. Only this time, he didn't. And everything was mixed and upside down.

Her throat burned, and Lucy had to stagger herself to withhold the childish whine. Natsu's stitches were a downright hack job, pulling at her skin in gruesome ways. She now understood why Mira got so pent up when he tried to mend himself. To be fair, he had practically begged her not to force his hand. His eyes had been so dark, almost black when she told him that he had too. She couldn't do it herself, vision already wavering from either head trauma or the obvious blood loss. "I can't do this to you." He had protested. Sitting there looking like a beaten child with a thick, blunt and rather dull sewing needle gripped between his two fingers. He had scavenged it from the mouldy kitchen, along with a long thread he had torn from the moth ridden couch. The jar of moonshine popped open to drench his fingers and tools. Her small first aid pouch lost somewhere in the mine. "I'm going to bleed out." She had retorted bluntly. To which, he said. "It's going to hurt." While taking a jarring swig of the moonshine pot, and managing to keep his expressive features schooled from the taste. She figured dying of blood loss would be far worse and sat herself on the green and white checkered floor beside him. Crawling between his somewhat spread legs(as far as the cramped bathroom would allow) and resting so her back was on his chest. The first stitch was brutal, the needle getting caught on her skin in all the wrong ways. She bit down on his bicep to keep from screaming, just like he had instructed. Her mouth tasted of iron, her teeth piercing his skin, but he didn't complain so she didn't either. Natsu sometimes grunted disapprovingly from behind her. His trembling hands trying to soothe her with circles on her back. It didn't get any easier, by the fifth stitch she was a teary mess, and she could have sworn she felt the shudder of Natsu's chest while he choked back his own sobs.

They hadn't spoken much since then. The night was silent, Lucy curled up alone on the mattress and Natsu hunched over on the terrace. Keeping watch, he had told her while wrapping her up in his favourite travelling blanket. One Mira had knitted him after hearing he had arrived at the guild with nothing. The yarn was well worn, and matted in places. Three (clearly sewn on by Natsu) patches were situated on the lower half. But it was clean and smelt like him. Volcanic ash and spiced cinnamon, clashing with rain-forest mist and sap drizzled bark. Only on the exhale could you taste the mint, and not once did the sensation lack in its delivery of peace. He didn't sleep at all that night, she knew because she didn't either. Nor did he do much watching, instead he spent the dark hours studying his boots, the ones he had traded his mud-caked sandals for. He didn't look up once and she knew it was because the night sky was ruined for him. His glorious moon had fallen and now the sky held only black.

When the sun's rays had barely scraped over the landscape Natsu stood, stretched briefly before darting inside. Lucy pushed herself up upon his arrival, hoping he was coming to help talk her through what her mind couldn't digest. That wasn't his goal though, as he informed her he was heading out to meet the client. He owes us a reward, he informed. She pleaded with him not to go, that it wasn't worth it and the job was a lost cause. He looked about ready to explode and said "The gang is gone. We did what he asked. And I'm getting that fucking book." Short and to the point, then he was out the door, nearly slipping on the edge of his cloak in hurry. That was four hours ago and the cold had already numbed her skin to the pain and lost its distracting effect. Lucy was worried, and if he didn't show up soon she was sure to do something rash. She lit the last of her three cigarettes, relishing in the spin it gifted her head and the sour taste that burned her throat.

Several minutes passed before his cloaked frame rounded the street corner and Lucy inhaled deeply again, trying to let her heart palpitations slow. He stopped just before the front doors, staring at her from his spot on the cobble path two stories lower. His eye's fixated on the cigarette in her fingers. He gave his head a meaningful shake before heading in, it was only seconds before she heard his boots thunking across the hall's floorboards. She crept back through the bedroom window, meeting him as he emerged through the door.

"That's a pretty nasty habit you've picked up?"

His almost cheerful sounding remark caught her off guard, not that his constantly changing emotions didn't always. She raised her brow at him, sealing the windowed entrance behind her to cut off the colds connection. He looked worse than when he left, covered in mud and sporting a new gash on his brow with a matching set on his lower lip. She always hated when it was his face that got beaten.

"How did it go?" She chose to bat, ignoring his observation. She knew he noticed the way she was eyeing his new injuries, he chose to ignore that too.

"Fine. I got the book." Her eye's widened a fraction but she didn't ask to see it. The very idea of it seemed distasteful for the moment, the words too heavy for her tongue. "Are you feeling alright? Your flushed." His quick flip of the subject had again taken her off guard. She wasn't sure if it was because of the cold or because she really didn't feel that well, the irking feeling her throat was infected constantly pestering her. Or maybe it was the way his deep orbs lingered a little too long on her face, all concern and no lust that caused her to redden more. It was fact that no other man in her entire life had ever looked at her with such respect. She might have told him so, if not for the tremendously awful situation they were trapped in. He stepped towards her, placing the back of his hand to her forehead and retracting it quickly. "Jesus Lucy you're freezing!" Yeah, maybe it was just the temperature that caused her cherry colouring. "How long were you outside?"

"How did you get those?" She bounced back, gesturing to his newly sported lacerations. Natsu grunted in frustration and shook his head, taking hold of her shoulders and guiding her to sit on the mattress. He sat behind her, wrapping his sculpted arms around her frame and warming his skin until Lucy felt she was being held down by a radiator. She could tell he wanted to leave, getting home was at the very top of his priority list. But she knew he wouldn't push until he deemed her warm and well enough for travel.

"It's chaotic out there, got into a bit of a scuff. S'fine." He partly explained.

"Did anybody die?"

"No. Wasn't that bad."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

They were quiet for a minute, listening only to one another's breathing. She missed when Natsu was younger, like when she had just met him. He couldn't keep a secret, and he most certainly wouldn't be vague like this. Wanting to spill the story so he wasn't alone in dealing with it, that it was in someone else's head too. More recently he seemed to internalize everything, and this was no exception.

"I was only outside for a bit." One shabby answer for another.

"Bullshit, you're freezing."

"It's summer."

"It's freezing."

"Yeah."

Silence for another beat.

"You shouldn't do that, you could get frostbite."

Lucy ignored him then, swivelling herself so she was facing him. Their noses were practically touching, she could feel his warm breath and spy every freckle that danced over the slope of his nose. A sigh escaped her as she scrounged up the courage to ask what they were both thinkings. "What do we do when we're home?"

"I don't know."

"Okay."

His expression then reminded her of the time she had caught him and Lissana sneaking off together after Elfman's birthday. It was the same expression he wore when she tried to kiss him out behind the greenhouses. The scene had been romantic if she recalled properly. Low sunsets and blossom petals scattering over the FairyTail grounds like a soothing aura. He had been drinking, Lucy could tell from her spot behind the farthest gardening shed. Maybe he had simply been too tipsy to notice her approach with that hound nose, or maybe he just didn't care. His eyes were blown wide like her family's holiday dinner plates, watching as a bashful Lissana perched on the tips of her toes, snagging her fingers on his signature scarf and pulling him down to meet her lips. His eye's closed only momentarily before he shifted back some, gently staggering to put some space between their lips. "What are you doing?" She had asked him. And there, that was the same face he was wearing now, as if the brain behind his onyx eyes had melted away. An empty skull playing an act. "I don't know." He said just the same.

And they sat in that silence for a while, until Natsu decided she looked alive enough to go, or that she looked too bad to stay any longer. Her throat was definitely infected, and she felt like a man clawing through withdrawal. But she knew her dragon would get her home safely and she closed her eyes and let him gather their things. She must have walked with him to the station, but the rest of their travel was mostly a blur from there.

Their treck home from magnolia station very much reminded Lucy of her first encounter with Natsu, strung up across his chest, incased in his rigid arms while he carried her with ease. Her conscious state somewhat unreliable. Though back then, his expression hadn't been so grim and his shoulders hadn't been so tense. The tear in his brow had re-opened slightly over their walk, a line of red slowly drawing down the edge of his face. She had watched it drip patiently, over the edge of his cheekbones and down his cheek until it dipped under his jaw and she had to turn away. Seeing his blood always pained something in her she'd rather ignore. She wished he would whisper calming words against her cheek like he had last time. She still couldn't remember the words he spoke, but the feeling of calm had stayed with her all these years. But he didn't, not even a glance her way. And Lucy decided that if this was a new beginning like it was back then, she didn't like it at all. She closed her eyes and hoped her swaying brain would help her forget it.

Their arrival back home didn't pan to be something she wanted to remember either. Apparently Lissana had been very vocal about going on a job with Natsu, and their guild-mates had been quick to notice her absence in their return. They all poured out questions of her whereabouts, and why they looked so sick and beaten. But Natsu didn't answer, so Lucy didn't either. He kept his line of sight true as he marched her up to the infirmary, where thankfully it was only Porlyusica on shift. She didn't ask too many questions, only made comment to tell them moonshine is an awful disinfectant and these stitches are horrendous but they probably saved her life. Lucy was just thankful Mira wasn't back yet and working today, she just wasn't sure if she'd be able to look at her yet. Natsu stayed with her just long enough for Porlyusica to say she would be fine in a few days with the proper medication and rest. Almost as soon as she finished speaking he was out the door mumbling that he was going off to tell the headmaster the mission report. Lucy begged with him to wait, that she would go with him, but he wouldn't. And for hours after, the castle's walls rang with the cries of their substitute father.

Lucy was put on bed rest for no less than a week. She was cleaned thoroughly and re-stiched with skilled hands. Natsu had been completely resistful about his own medical care and had waited in the hall for Porlyusica to finish with her tasks. After that though, he perched himself at the foot of her bed and didn't leave until she was permitted to do so as well. Sneaking in cigarettes to smoke when the nurses changed shift. And for every night following her release, he did the same, sleeping against her wall at the foot of her dorm bed. It was like he was watching her, scared that if he looked away she would disappear too. His whole personality had been turned down about twelve notches, his internal fire seemed so smothered. She was never alone anymore, constantly coddled by him. And though she appreciated his constant presence and care, it grinded her a little that he wouldn't even spare her a walk alone through the grounds. Silently following her just out of range.

Another week and a half passed before Mira, Elfman, and Laxus returned from their job. Lucy had woken to Natsu pacing her room rather frantic. His hair spiked from stressful finger snags and his scarf strained over his shoulders while he pulled. "Are you okay?" She mumbled, her throat raspy with sleep. Her voice seemed to startle him, causing him to turn slightly and whip his head around to face her. Eye's wide and shoulder's flexed. This in itself was strange, for Natsu, with his uncanny scenes, wasn't one to be caught off guard. He shook his head slightly, running his hands through his hair once more before taking a seat atop her desk.

"Mira and Elfman got back this morning." He mumbled, scuffing his sandal on the floor.

"Oh." His announcement turned her stomach, metaphorically mangling her insides and shrinking her ribcage until the air felt thin.

She nodded towards him slightly, pulling a pack from her bedside table. He practically ripped it from her hand, mumbling that it "Wasn't good for her." before lighting one for himself. He then kicked the edge of her dresser to his front, swearing loudly and moving to fidget with his hair again. Lucy let out a stifled exhale and curled in on herself, tucking her legs against her chest and wrapping them with her arms. Natsu never acted like this, like a child having a tantrum. This is the Natsu that frightened her the most, when he was careless and frantic. He was already impulsive on a good day, and it regularly got him in trouble. So this was only a time bomb in the making. Once his dark eye's met hers again they softened almost instantly. "I'm sorry, just kinda stressed out I think."

Lucy was careful in her approach, sliding across the bed to stand next to him. She slipped her arms under his, around his chest and pulled him close in a loose hug. She rested her chin on his shoulder and laced her fingers at the nape of his neck, twisting his pink locks around his finger. "Do they know yet?" She whispered, keeping up her ministrations when he stiffened significantly.

"No, they're in Gramp's office waiting on me now."

"Oh..." She spewed again. She pulled away from him slightly, resting her forehead on his for a moment. "Just let me get dressed, I'll come down with you."

She turned away from him in the direction of her closet, but he grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. "I don't know how to do this again." His words barely slipped out under his breath. A simply broken statement from a broken man.

It was true this wasn't the first time he had reported such awful news to the Strauss siblings. He had told Lucy once before that when he was younger, Lissana had begged him to take her out on a job. He asked Mira for her permission, but she evidently had said no, that she wasn't ready to go off on a job with a kid that always got into trouble and constantly snuck out on jobs that were far too high in ranking for his skill level. Natsu being the stubborn child he was though, stole a job request with a senior rank and took little Lissana along. As expected, the enemy was far superior and bested them quickly. Natsu lost Lissana in the commotion, and after days of desperate searching, he had to give in. Thankfully Laxus found her almost half a year later while travelling home.

"When they heard the news Elfman cried for days, I thought it would never end, it was awful." The dragon slayer shook his head again, finally offering her a hit of his cigarette with an apologetic look for his earlier reaction. "Mira though, I'll never forget it. It's like I could see her heart shatter through her eyes. I wanted her to yell and scream, to get mad or something, I felt so guilty but she didn't." He tossed Lucy a look filled with such pain and anguish, one that should never have melted over his structured face. "She just held me for hours, kept telling me it wasn't my fault and that everything would be okay, she even smiled at me. And for months after, she had these awful nightmares where she would cry out for Lissana, and god the sound, I swear I can still hear it sometimes."

"Natsu..." The blonde tried to console, "You were just a child, it was an accident." She tried to squeeze his hand in comfort but he pulled away, sliding from the edge of her desk to stretch freely in the of the small room.

"I'm not a child anymore Lucy. This is worse than back then. Laxus cant find her this time." He was done talking now, she could tell with the way he held his posture. Natsu wasn't one to open up and maul things over with another person. This being a rare occurrence for him, she didn't want to push him farther, in fear he would spin out in his own thoughts and make a rash decision. He was so complex, Lucy found she always struggled with trying to support him the way he deserved. He hated feeling pitied or coddled, the wrong response could push him to months of emotional silence. And she knew for a fact that this morning report was going to do just that.

The meeting went just as awful as Natsu had described. Elfman cried howls that rivalled hungry dogs, a shaking mess that contradicted his overly pressed masculinity while Laxus stood stoic behind him, a firm hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder. Mira acted just the same, a warm smile pressed to her lips while she gathered a broken Natsu in her arms. Whispering gentle words against his neck while she toyed with his wild hair. Lucy watched her partner deplete at her side, the lights dulling from his onyx orbs with every word that left Mira's subtle pout. This time though, the silver-haired woman couldn't wait for her nightmares to control her grief, and as soon as the grand oak doors closed her away from the office the cry that split the hall rattled Lucy's bones. A sound that knew no happiness and danced only with the dark.

Again, check here to read ahead and find bonus content :) ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

#natsu #natsu dragneel #lucy #lucy heartfilia #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #Nalu #nalu fanfic #nalu fanfiction #fan fiction #slow burn

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years ago

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The Sun, The Moon, and The Stars ✯Prince Zuko✯

warnings - i’m not really sure how to say it, but she’s a water tribe girl in the fire nation, so there definitely is some racism/mocking of culture at a few points, but I tried to keep it to a minimum. if you think I portrayed something inaccurately please let me know. I don’t want to be putting out harmful material. synopsis - She is a non-bender from the Northern Water Tribe who somehow found herself smack in the middle of Fire Nation central, where a young prince is fighting an internal battle she hopes to help him win. a/n - So, uh, I have so many obx requests in my inbox and I have so many chapters to update of all my fics but instead, I decided to write an atla fic because I have no self control. thanks that’s all.

***

How you ended up working as a servant in the Fire Nation palace, you had no idea. One day, you and your mom were spending the day in your canoe, and the next, you were on one of the smog machines that the Fire Nation called “ships”. You thought you were going to die. Somehow, you wound up serving the princess instead.

She liked to pinch your cheeks and poke fun at your brown eyes. Hers were amber colored, like the flames that flickered from the bronze sconces that were the only source of light at night in the palace. She liked to make fun of the way your hair looped and how you were always too hot, too uncomfortable in the revealing red clothing that they forced you to wear. Azula was her name, but she made you call her Highness.

You were two years older than her but you were always at her beck and call. Her friends were hardly better. While they didn’t pick fun at you or insult your culture, they sure did nothing to stop her torture of you. But you couldn’t fight back. All you could do was sit there and smile and do what she said, praying that your complacency would keep your mother, wherever she was, alive.

The prince, however, he was different. Even before his banishment, he was always kind to you. As much as the Fire Nation royals had done to you, your family, and your tribe, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him.

He would smile when you passed by him in the corridor and never called for a guard when you accidentally ran into him. On the rare occasions you had to serve him, he would ask how your day was and he would help you where he could before his sister intervened. You once asked him why he treated you with respect. He told you it was because his mom taught him that everything that breathed was important and deserving of the same respect given to him.

And on the day you told him that you hadn’t spoken to your mother in over a year, he promised that he would find her and find a way to reunite you with her. In spite of your better judgement, you felt a glimmer of hope.

The next day, the young prince was banished after he lost an Agni Kai with his father.

You never got to say goodbye.

Three years passed. Three years of living at Princess Azula’s beck and call. Without the Prince and without her mother, she was nearly unstoppable. Her taunts grew more frequent, her hatred more vile. And then her friends left, Mai to live with her family and Ty Lee to join the circus. That left Azula bored with nothing to do but make your life misery. For three years you waited and suffered in silence.

But then she left and you were all alone. There was no one to serve, no one to scream at you, no one to tug on your braids that you worked so hard to put in every morning. You spent your days wandering the halls of the palace you were never allowed to leave, hoping beyond reason to find your mother.

But you never did.

You were surprised with the Princess returned because she was no longer alone. Not only were Mai and Ty Lee by her side once again, but her brother, the exiled prince, trailed behind them. His chest was puffed, his chin was held high, the permanent reminder of his father’s hatred toward him worn proudly on his face. He looked defeated.

When he saw you, standing there, breathless at the sight of him, he almost smiled and that look of defeat was almost like a victory.

Three years ago, he had been just a scared boy who had shown a little bit of kindness to a girl he didn’t even know. He was older now, grown. His hair was longer and his eyes were a thousand times more haunted. You watched him walk into the palace, his eyes almost glued to you until he was out of sight.

Life seemed to return to normal for all of an hour. Mai, Ty Lee, and Azula were lounging in the garden, ordering you back and forth for things they just kept laying by their side.

“You wanna know what I heard about your dearest tribe?” Azula teased, her high pitched voice an unpleasent sound to your ears. You knew better than to respond head on and you knew better than to say no. She sounded too happy for it to be anything good. Still, you missed your home. You nodded your head slowly. Azula snickered to her friends just as Prince Zuko walked in, his eyes downcast.

“That princess of yours died in our raid,” Azula sneered. Your heart started to pound against your rib cage, breathing going ragged. It couldn’t be true. Yue was blessed by the moon spirit. There was no way she would just...die. She was your friend, even if you had been nothing more than a fisherman’s daughter. You looked up toward Zuko, who had gone suddenly rigid, his face dangerously still.

“And you’ll never guess who got her killed.” Azula stood up, walking toward you as you stood frozen. “Do you wanna know who got your precious princess killed?”

“Azula.” Zuko’s words were a warning, but Azula just giggled by your ear.

“Ask me who got her killed, y/n.”

“Azula, that’s enough.”

“Go on, ask me.”

“Who got Princess Yue killed?” The sound of your own voice was foreign to you, never using it often, but you hoped there was some semblance of strength behind what you said.

She traced a delicate finger across your shoulder before flicking it off toward her brother. Your eyes followed her movement, landing on Zuko. For a moment, you desperately wanted to believe it wasn’t true. The boy who had helped you clean up the messes Azula left behind would never kill your princess. The boy who had taken you to the Healers because his sister had burned you in her fury would never do something so horrible.

“That’s not what happened-”

“Ah, Zuzu, don’t be humble!” Azula’s laugh was trill as she plopped back into the grass beside her friends. But you didn’t care what she did anymore. Your gaze was fixed on Zuko, trying to figure out where you had gone wrong judging his character. “Don’t forget, you also killed the Avatar.”

If you had thought your heart had been shattered before, this was the final blow. You had heard the rumors of the Avatar’s return. Knowing he was the only thing that stood between the Fire Nation and the safety of your home, you had relied on him, often dreaming that he would come to rescue you and your mother. With him dead, all hope of standing against the Fire Nation was dashed.

You had often wished you were a bender, thinking that it may have spared you from living under the cruelty of the Fire Nation leaders. But there was never a time that you wished you were a bender so much as now, hoping nothing more than to be able to evaporate the shameful tears that fell from your eyes.

“Aw, look,” Azula cooed as her friends watched on. “The little servant girl is crying for her dear princess and that Avatar. How sweet.”

You didn’t care about the repercussions. You didn’t care what would happen to you. You needed to leave. You needed to get away from her, from them, from him. As far away as you possible could.

Dropping the silver platter that was in your hands, you turned away and ran as fast as your trembling legs would take you.

“y/n, wait!”

“Don’t go after her, Zuko,” Mai’s dull and apathetic voice said.

“y/n!” He didn’t appear to be listening.

“I think you may have gone too far that time, Azula,” Ty Lee said, her voice quiet and timid. You didn’t hear much after that, turning to corner and making your way down the corridor. You could hear Prince Zuko’s pounding footsteps following after you, but you ignore him every time he called your name.

Just as you turned a corner, you found yourself with a face full of red robes. Sucking in a gasp, you stepped back. You blinked away tears to find yourself standing before the Fire Lord himself and you froze in place, eyes wide.

You had only met the Fire Lord once. It was a moment you would never forget and the most reoccurring nightmare you had.

“Why are you crying?” He asked. You swallowed a lump in your throat and quickly wiped away your tears.

“I wasn’t, sire,” you said, straightening your back.

“Don’t lie to me.” He didn’t raise his voice, but you flinched anyway.

“I, oh, I-”

“Father!” Prince Zuko ran up beside you, struggling for breath as he bowed before the Fire Lord. “It was Azula, Father.”

“My daughter made you cry?” The Fire Lord looked down at you with fury in his eyes.

“No, Your Highness-”

“So, you’re calling my son a liar?”

“No, no! I just-”

“Just what? Spit it out, girl!”

“It’s been a long day, Father,” Prince Zuko interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I would like your permission to give y/n the day off. Azula has been working her like a dog and she needs a break.”

The Fire Lord looked down at you, raising an eyebrow. You nodded slowly, confirming Prince Zuko’s story. You had barely slept since Azula had returned, running errands for her at every time of the night and the day. It was easier at night, sure, but when the sun rose, the exhaustion hit you all over again.

“For you success at the Northern Water Tribe and in Ba Sing Se, I will grant you this,” the Fire Lord said. You suddenly remembered why you had been crying, why you had been trying so hard to get away from the Prince to begin with.

“Thank you, Father.”

Lost somewhere in your own grief, you almost forgot to bow to the Fire Lord before he walked away. As soon as he was out of sight, you made a break for it once again. This time, Prince Zuko was prepared and caught you by the wrist.

“Azula always lies,” he said once you were facing him again. You tried to pull your wrist from his grip, but he was strong.

“I know what breed your sister is,” you seethed, never before having spoken to a royal in the way you were now. “You and her are cut from the same cloth.”

“No,” Prince Zuko said, his grip on your wrist tightening for just a moment before he relaxed it again. “No, we’re not. I didn’t kill your princess and I didn’t....” He lowered his voice and took a step closer to you, making you recoil. “I didn’t kill the Avatar.”

“Then what happened?”

Prince Zuko looked around, as if trying to see if anyone was listening in. He then let your wrist go and beckoned for you to follow him. For a moment, you thought about running again, but as Prince Zuko started to walk away, your only chance at answers walked with him.

Tiptoeing after him, you followed as he led you back toward his chambers. Sending one last glance around to check for guards, he guided you inside.

“If this is some long ploy to get me into your bed....” You weren’t sure where your sudden boldness was coming from. Maybe it was the deep rooted anger finally bubbling forth. Maybe it was the fact that, despite everything, you somehow trusted the boy in front of you.

Your bitter words earned you an amused smile from the Prince, which you hadn’t expected in the slightest.

“No, y/n. I want to explain myself to you.”

“Why?”

“Because it would be nice to know that there was one person alive who didn’t hate me.”

His words caught you off guard. The anger in your stomach dissipated and you dropped your hands to your sides. There was a smile on his face, but grief in his eyes.

“Tell me what happened.”

He brought you over to a table and sat in front of you. He started shakily, stumbling over his words, backtracking, trying to find the right place to really begin his story. But once he got there, the words flowed from his mouth and never stopped. Not until he told you about the battle at the Northern Water Tribe and Princess Yue’s fate, not until he told you about defecting with his Uncle and living in Ba Sing Se as Lee, not until he told you about the sickness his body went through after making one good choice, not until he told you about how he betrayed everyone who trusted him and let his sister kill the Avatar.

You were crying again by the time he finished. Part of it was hearing all of the things that happened to your people, to the Water Tribe siblings who were helping the Avatar, but the other part was watching the boy in front of you cry too. He had been a boy when he left and you thought he had come back like his father. But you realized as you watched him now, face buried in his hands, that Prince Zuko was four times the man his father could ever be.

“And none of that excuses what I’ve done,” he said, his voice haggard as he looked back up at you. “I know that.”

“Have you...have you spoken to your uncle?” You asked, clearing your throat of the thick emotion that choked you.

“A few times. He won’t even speak to me. He hates me.”

“From what you told me about him, I doubt he could ever hate you.”

His amber eyes met yours and for a brief moment, you felt your stomach twist. You should hate him. You should hate him for everything his nation had done to your people, for the way his sister treated you, for the way his father had separated you and your mother. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

“I don’t deserve your kindness,” he said. His voice went quiet. “After everything we have done to you-”

“I get to decide who is deserving of my kindness,” you told him firmly. “Your family has torn mine apart. They have brutalized my people, murdered my kin, and your sister has made the last years of my life a living hell.”

Prince Zuko hung his head. You breathed out a calming breath and leaned forward, putting a gentle hand against his shoulder.

“But you are not your sister.” You spoke just above a whisper. He looked back up at you suddenly. “And you are not your father. You are not the crimes of your people. I believe that you can still make things right.”

“How?” He asked, voice breaking. “The Avatar is dead. What hope does the world have against the wrath of my father?”

“I can’t tell you how to fix your own problems,” you said. “I can only tell you that if there’s a will, there’s a way.”

You were shocked to see him almost smile.

“You sound like my uncle.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He stood then, his chest puffed out, his chin held high, the scar on his face worn like a badge of honor. He looked triumphant. You stood as well, knowing it was rude to sit while someone else was standing. Prince Zuko took your hands in his and gave them a tight squeeze. You felt the urge to tug your hands away as your stomach tumbled again.

“I made you a promise long ago that I would find your mother. I haven’t forgotten it.”

“Your Highness, you don’t have to-”

“Please.” His hands tightened around yours again. “After all of your kindness despite the hatred in this place, it’s the least I could do. I will find your mother and then I will find a way to get you both out of here and back home.”

Tears shimmered in your eyes and you struggled to keep them at bay.

“I- Thank you, Your Highness.”

“There’s no need for formalities. Just call me Zuko.”

Zuko. Your lips twitched into a small smile, the familiar feeling of hope bursting into your chest. Your hope had seemed to die many times, but like a flame, it always smoldered. It was the only thing that kept you alive, the only thing that kept your spirit burning.

“Zuko,” you said and he smiled, a toothy smile that any normal boy would give any normal girl in any normal situation.

“y/n.”

He leaned forward quickly and pressed his lips gently against your cheek. It was a brief kiss, more like the sealing of a promise than anything else, but it was enough to send bolts of lightning through your body and into your toes. When he pulled away, you knew your cheeks were flushed with heat, but you found that his were too.

“I should....” You pulled your hands from his, trying not to wipe the sweat your palms accumulated on your skirt. “I should go find Azula.”

“You have the day off, remember?”

You shook your head.

“I should get back to her.” You stepped around him and started for the door.

“I’ll find your mother,” he called after you, as if you still needed convincing that he was serious. “Whatever it takes.”

“I trust you, Zuko,” you said, standing half way through the door. “I don’t know why, but I trust you.”

~~~

So, I guess I’ll make a separate taglist for atla things just in case any obx people don’t want to be tagged in it.

also, part 2 potentially?

#atla #zuko #avatar the last airbender #zuko x yn #zuko imagine #avatar imagine #zuko x non bender #i don't know what else to tag this as #ive never written atla fics before #who knows #i hope yall are having a good day #my day was pretty good #my best friend got engaged so that super duper exciting #there was going to be a long winded explanation for the title but if I do a second part I guess I could explain it there #zuko x reader #forgot about that tag whoops

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kylorenfanfic · 5 years ago

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Long Away - chapter 1

Kylo Ren x Female Reader

Masterlist

Story: You have been hiding for years, ever since the slaughter in your temple. You were one of the many force-sensitive children that Luke Skywalker was training to be the New Jedi Order. You were there when Ben Solo killed everybody, but you were lucky enough to survive, you weren’t important, he didn’t remember that he let you go by accident. You had given up and ran away to hide in Dantooine, but when you heard that Kylo Ren had become the Supreme Leader, you realized that you couldn’t stay out of it any longer. Finding your way into the First Oder and gaining Kylo Ren’s trust so you could help the Resistance by giving them inside information. But things turned out to be very different than you expected to be the closer you get to the Supreme Leader. A/N: Hi guys, so this is my first fanfic and I am completely nervous about it. I have written more chapters of it already, but I am not sure if I am going to post it. Tell me if you guys like it or if I should keep posting. The first chapters are kinda boring because it’s the context of the whole story. If you wanna be tagged also, let me know. Love, and I hope you enjoy it. Words: 1.6k

It was a warm day in the Fields of Banir. It wasn’t sunny but you could feel the heat. It was the first time in a while that you were leaving the old Jedi Temple. You have been living there for the past few years, ever since you lost everything and everyone. You used your Force abilities to hide yourself, to shield yourself from any other Force sensitive being that might land. You had to go to Garang to get some of the supplies – even though you were living out of things you could collect in the fields. Sometimes you needed stuff, like medicine and fresh clothes, and that was when you would travel to the capital city of Dantooine.

You weren’t used to having many people around – especially when most of were Dantaris – but you still enjoyed having a change of scenery. Sometimes the cold walls of the ancient Temple became too much for you. It was there, in Garang when you first heard it.

“The First Order has a new Supreme Leader” someone around you said, you couldn’t identify the voice among the crowd.

“It is Kylo Ren, you know? That guy in the mask” other person replied.

“Does that mean things are getting worse?” the voice faded away and you couldn’t hear the answer. Kylo Ren was the Supreme Leader now? That meant he wasn’t being controled by someone, he wasn’t being brainwashed to be in the Dark Side. He was fully part of the Dark Side now. And was its leader. You shook your head, that wasn’t your problem. It was when your mind started to fade.

“(Y/N)!” you heard someone screaming. You were lost among the chaos, the buildings were collapsing and there were flames everywhere. “Stay where you are!”, you heard Hylia’s voice in your head.

Hylia was your best friend, the one who took care of you when you first arrived to the Temple, feeling alone and afraid, after losing your parents and discovering your Force sensitiveness. You couldn’t leave her there to die. You disobeyed her orders and tried to find her. Then you saw him, Ben Solo killing the padawans. Hylia was standing in front of him and with a furious scream, she ran into his direction holding up her green lightsaber. They started to fight and then she saw you, she didn’t say a word, she concentrated, her hand drawn out and in this weak moment the man in front of her killed her with his lightsaber. He turned around to find other remaining padawans and he passed right next to you. He didn’t see you. You ran to Hylia’s body. She was barely alive, wounds from lightsabers do not bleed, but are just as fatal as a blaster shot.

“Hide.” she said. It was when you realized she was using her powers to hide you from Ben. You felt tears on your cheeks. She faded away, hiding your Force signature has weakend her badly wounded body. And you ran, never looking back.”

Hylia died to protect you and her last word was the thing you have been doing ever since. You didn’t want to do anything about what was going on in the galaxy. Let the Resistance and the First Order kill themselves. But now… now things were different. Ben Solo wasn’t a bad person and you knew it, he had saved you once before during training, so long before the massacre happened. Maybe Ben Solo was indeed dead and now all that remained was the devious Kylo Ren, now the Supreme Leader.

It was one of the teachings of a jedi, to never be selfish. You could help to defeat him. You could help to avenge Hylia and all the others that died by his hand. Because now it was just himself, not someone controlling his mind.

You had a feeling. You could do it, you could help somehow. And inside you, you felt the urge to do something, you felt that you couldn’t handle another day of solitude in that goddamn Jedi ruin, another day in this goddamn planet. You had your lightsaber with you, you didn’t need anything else, you could leave everything behind and that was what you did.

You entered that place and it smelt bad, the smell of dust and old durasteel. You saw the man behind the balcony.

“I need a ship” you said straight forward. He looked at you and laughed.

“You have currency?” he replied with a sarcastic smile.

“How much?” and the answer that he gave you made you gasp. “That is an absurd amount of credits!” you protested, you didn’t have nearly enough credits for that.

“No money, no ship.”

“It must have another way to get it.”

“You are that girl, right? That lives in the ancient Temple?”

“You can say that.”

“Are you a Jedi? Hear they could do stuff.” he asked and you bulffed.

“Of course not.” you answered as it was an insult, mostly for him to believe you.

“You know how to fight?” he were asking with a lot of interest

“I do…” you suspicious answered. “Get to the point.”

“Get me this man, and the ship is yours.” He said showing you a hologram of a Dantari.

“What has he done?”

“He owes me credits. Bring him to me and you get a ship. His name is Barak Norurdi and he lives in the Taikana Hills. You have until tomorrow morning.”

“That is ridiculous”.

“Bring me Barak or no ship.”

You went out of that old place thinking about what you were going to do with your life. Going after a dantari? For what? Just for you to try to find Kylo Ren and kill him? Or at least help to destroy his Order? What were you thinking?

You had that feeling again. The Force wanting to talk to you somehow. You had shut yourself to the Force for so long and you couldn’t understand why now it was finding your way back to you. If only master Luke was still around…

You got in your way to the Taikana Hills, the sun was almost setting when you got there. You saw a little house, there was light on, you decided to go there, maybe they would know something about Barak.

You knocked on the door. No answer. You knocked again. You heard someone speak in Dantarian. The door was open.

“Hi” you said with a simple smile, hoping that he would know your language.

“Hello” he answered in a thick accent, no smile.

“I am looking for Barak Norurdi, have you heard of him?” the man gave you a suspicious look.

“It is I, who asks?” that was incredibly easy, you could barely believe it.

“I came to collect your debt to Caran Spero.” You said more firmly than you felt.

“I owe no currency to Caran Spero. Caran Spero owes me. He stole from me.” He said getting angrier.

“Look, I am sorry, ok? But I am just following what was asked from me.”

“Stupid human.” And he closed the door.

“It’s going to be on the hard way then.” You told yourself. You kicked the door and it opened with a bang. The dantari man looked at you surprised. He came in your way with angriness. You had your staff with you, you wouldn’t use your saber anymore. You fought the dantari man, he was using his bare hands and you were skiving from his punches using your body and staff. Your staff went down to his legs making him fall behind, his head hitting the floor, he had a painful expression on.

“Look man, I’m sorry ok, but I gotta get out of this planet.” And you knocked him unconscious. You thought about how you could bring that heavy dantari back to Garang. You went out the wooden house and tried to find for some short of speeder. What were you expecting? Dantaris aren’t people who use tech… well, but this one apparently was. Maybe that was the reason why he was in debt with Spero.

You put the unconscious man, tied up, on the speeder and started to drive. You felt the wind in your face, it was night already and you had to smile, you haven’t felt that alive for so long, maybe what you were doing was right afterwards. It felt right.

You got to the store after a couple hours.

“Oh, the bounty hunter is back.” Spero said when he saw you entering his shop.

“I am not a bounty hunter” and you dropped Barak on the floor in front of him. He was up now, but all tied up, he couldn’t make a proper move.

“Oh, ho ho ho. It seems like a bounty hunter to me! Well done, well done!” He said, coming around the dantari laying on the floor.

“Can I get the ship now?”

“Sure thing, sure thing. Let me show you, it’s already outside in the back.” you followed him to the back and there was an old ship there.

“That is garbage!” you exclaimed, angry.

“Well, I didn’t say what kind of ship, right? That is what you got. You didn’t seem that had that much work to bring him back to me.”

“You are a worm!”

“Careful with your words, young lady. You know what? Now you got no ship, that’s it, that’s what you get for ingratitude.” In your fury you got your lightsaber from your belt, hidden behind your tunic and threatened him with the saber on his neck, the blue light lightening up both your faces.

“You said you were no Jedi” he roared.

“And I am not, the Jedi are dead. Now give me the ship. A good one.”

“Alright, alright, since you asked nicely” and he escorted you to the other hangar. “It’s a CT-21, good model, you can get to where ever you want fast.” You looked at him and then ran to the ship, getting in. You knew how to pilot from your padawan days.

You started to pilot the ship, and in no time you were leaving Dantooine, the place you thought you’d die in. Now you were heading to the unknown… or better saying, heading to Kylo Ren.

CHAPTER 2

#kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x reader #fanfic #star wars fanfic #star wars sequel #ben solo #ben solo fanfic #ben solo x reader #kylo ren x reader fanfic #ben solo x reader fanfic #kylo x reader #star wars fanfiction #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren x you #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren imagines #female reader #kylo ren x female reader

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yet-another-fan-girl9 · 4 years ago

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Different Worlds (6)

Summary: You’re the youngest Winchester, a girl who needs to show her big brothers that she doesn’t need help. Then one day, on a totally normal vampire hunt that you had all under control, three meddling Avengers come barging in.

Warnings: language, violence, canon divergence, slow burn, me making stuff up

Word Count: 2342

A/N: I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter as much I enjoyed writing it! Please comment your thoughts and if you want to be added to the taglist! 💗💜💙

~*~

Chapter 6: In Which Dean Is an Annoying Cockblock on Earth and in Hell by Fall Out Boy

“You’re back soon.” The words spilled from Jack’s mouth when he saw Bucky.

“Yeah, I just…” Bucky shifted his feet awkwardly. Why did he come here again? He certainly was curious at everything that was going on, but there was something, someone, else.

“Come in.” The young man stepped aside and Bucky stepped into the bunker. “Did you want to see (Y/N)?”

“That would be great.” The ex-assassin did feel more comfortable around (Y/N) rather than her brothers.

They passed the library where the team had learned about the supernatural. Today, the tables were covered in strange items, bowls, and open books. Nobody was doing anything with them at the moment, though.

Jack led Bucky deeper into the bunker which seemed empty at the moment. Bucky studied the man in front of him. He didn’t look like a great fighter, but after everything that was revealed to him, Jack could totally kick his ass. They walked down a hallway before coming to a stop in front of one of the doors.

“Everyone’s getting ready,” Jack explained. Ready for what, Bucky didn’t know and Jack didn’t specify. “This is (Y/N)’s room. You can wait in here.”

He opened the door for Bucky before heading back in the direction they came from. The first thing he noticed was that (Y/N) wasn’t there. Then he saw the other door and heard the sound of running water. She was probably showering.

(Y/N)’s room was clean enough; Bucky knew that it was sometimes hard to gather enough energy to clean up. Her blankets were pulled over her bed, but it was obvious that the action was done haphazardly. Her drawers weren’t closed all the way; a sign of either laziness or being rushed. A few photographs were displayed on the nearby desk that was cluttered with crumpled balls of paper, hair ties, and a couple of knives.

Bucky smirked at the sight of the knives before turning his attention to the photos. The first one showed a group photo. He recognized (Y/N), her brothers, and Cas, but not the two other women or the man in the wheelchair. Everyone, especially (Y/N), looked much younger.

The second picture was another group picture. This time, Jack was in it so it had been taken in the past… how old was Jack? Seven years? That fact still threw Bucky off. He was used to older people looking younger, like Steve and himself, rather than the opposite.

The last photo was much older than the first one. A woman wearing a sundress and a large sun hat was smiling widely at the camera while holding the hand of a toddler. Bucky came to the quick conclusion that it was (Y/N) and her mother.

The sound of the en suite’s door opening caused him to whirl around to face (Y/N). Why didn’t he hear the water turn off? The woman looked up and gasped at the sight of the man in her room.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky,” she scolded and placed a hand over her chest.

That’s when he noticed that she didn’t have a shirt on. She had on jeans and a sports bra, and he saw a tattoo above her left collar bone. Bucky still wasn’t used to seeing women in just bras. Walking down the streets of New York, there were always advertisements for women’s lingerie. It made him uncomfortable, but for some reason, he didn’t feel the same discomfort around her.

As Bucky’s thoughts ran wild, (Y/N) continued swearing.

��You scared the goddamned fucking shit out of me. Don’t do that again or I’ll use you as a sacrifice,” the woman finished her rant. Then a smile broke out on her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Just—I… uh,” the usually suave supersoldier stuttered. He didn’t know what made his brain stop working. Maybe it was because of (Y/N)’s lack of shirt? Or maybe it was just being in her presence that halted all train of thought.

“What’s wrong?” She followed his gaze and looked down before laughing. “Oh, usually I get dressed in the bathroom in case something like this happens but I forgot a shirt this time. Some people living here don’t understand personal space.” Bucky’s face grew red and (Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “Was it Jack or Cas who let you in because I know my brothers wouldn’t even let you close to my room.”

“Jack,” Bucky laughed and felt himself relax. “I didn’t mean to startle you, by the way.” A moment of silence. “Is that your mother?” He gestured towards the photo.

(Y/N) moved closer until they were standing just over a foot away. She glanced at the photo and nodded in confirmation.

“She’s really pretty,” Bucky continued. “You look like her.”

(Y/N) looked at him with a large grin on her face. “Did you just call me pretty, Sarge?”

He felt his breath hitch as she inched closer to him. Bucky was sure that she could see all the details on his face because he could see every detail of her’s. He could see a small scar near her hairline and another one above her right eyebrow. He could see into her breathtaking eyes. He followed the slope of her nose which led his eyes to her soft lips. They were beckoning to him, parted slightly as (Y/N) studied his face. When had they gotten so close? If he just bent down slightly…

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s incessant banging on her bedroom door forced them apart. “What’s takin’ so long? Get your ass moving!” Then they heard his footsteps recede.

“I have to go,” (Y/N) sighed.

She slipped on a shirt, grabbed her knives and leather jacket, and walked out of her room. Bucky followed her out and could tell she felt the same way he did at the moment: disappointed. Why did her brother have to knock then?

They emerged into the library. Everyone looked up at their arrival and everyone but Jack did a double-take when they saw Bucky. Sam and Dean’s mouths became straight lines while Rowena, who was bent over a book, smirked.

“I guess you’re the reason she was taking so long,” Cas said.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked, mostly to (Y/N).

“We’re going to Hell,” Jack smiled.

“Crowley took the Magicae Libro while we all drank beers the other day,” (Y/N) explained. “So we’re going to Hell to take it back from that son of a bitch.”

“Don’t call me a bitch, darling,” Rowena cooed as she added something to a bowl. “Is everyone ready?”

(Y/N) gasped and turned to face Bucky with her eyes wide. “You’re not busy, right? ‘Course you aren’t, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” She paused for a breath. “Do you wanna come to Hell with us?”

“Are you sure that’s wise, (Y/N)?” Sam asked.

“I’ll come,” Bucky said. “I can handle myself, I’m a supersoldier.” (Y/N) smiled at him and he was glad he said yes.

“I’m only saying okay because we don’t have time to argue,” growled Dean.

Rowena motioned for Sam who walked over to the bowl, cut his hand, and let his blood mix with the other ingredients. He stepped back next to Cas. The man in the trenchcoat nodded to Sam. Cas held his hand, that began to glow, above the taller man’s wounded hand and suddenly Sam’s hand was healed. Bucky watched the interaction with awe, but everyone else seemed used to it.

“Everyone who’s going, put your hand on the bowl,” Rowena ordered. They obliged and Cas moved out of the way.

“Remember, Cas,” said Dean. “Don’t let the fire die, or we’ll be stuck in Hell.”

“I know, Dean.” The angel rolled his eyes.

“Initium ad inferna permittatur,” Rowena read from her book. She picked up a nearby candle and lit the bowl’s content on fire.

The items in the bowl sparked and the flame turned purple. Some wind started to blow through the room causing hair to get into eyes and mouths. The library’s lights flickered as a bright white light filled the room and the purple flame jumped higher. Then everything reached its max and the flame almost reached the ceiling.

Bucky closed his eyes against the light and when he opened them again they were in Hell.

~*~

Once everyone got their bearings, you took out your weapons. You and Sam had angel blades and Dean had his demon-killing knife. Jack had his powers and Rowena had her magic.

“Here.” You nudged Bucky and held out a second angel blade. “Regular guns and knives don’t do shit to fuckers like demons.” He took it in his metal arm and examined it. “It’s called an angel blade. ‘Cause they belong to the angels. We kinda took ‘em, we did take them, but they can kill lots of things.”

Bucky smiled at you. “Thanks.”

“So where do you suppose we are?” Dean looked around.

“Somewhere in the castle,” Sam answered. “Hopefully near the throne room.”

“Looks like Fergus redecorated again,” Rowena sighed.

“Rowena is Crowley’s mom and his name was Fergus,” you whispered to Bucky when you saw his confused expression. “Don’t worry, it gave me a bit of a headache too.”

You walked quietly and cautiously down the castle’s hallways in pairs. Your brothers at the head of the line while you and Bucky lingered in the back. There were no encounters yet. Only seemingly endless doors that you knew held souls that were in line for torture. You remembered your time behind one of those doors. In total, you had spent fifteen earth days in Hell which was more like five years downstairs.

“How are you doing?” you whispered to Bucky. You were getting a bit bored sneaking around. And, of course, being in Hell wasn’t a pleasant experience.

“Fine,” he responded.

Wow, you loved his voice. Even in the literal Hell, Bucky and his voice managed to soothe you. Your mind flashed back to the moment in your bedroom. Only Chuck knew how bad you had wanted to punch your older brother for being a cockblock. Honestly, you still wanted to punch him, but now was definitely not the time.

“There’s just a general feeling of unease and despair,” he continued.

You nodded in agreement. “I never like coming here.”

“So you have been to Hell before?”

“Yep,” you said a bit louder than you intended and Rowena looked back at you with a glare. You lowered your voice and continued, “Been here both as a guest and a soul.”

“When you died,” the blue-eyed man said slowly. “You came to Hell and you were tortured?” You nodded. “I-if you don’t mind me asking, how?”

“Well, there were lots of different ways.” You trained your eyes on the ground before you. “The usual strung up on racks and cut open torture. There was some psychological torture, you know. Making you think that you’re saved, only to be brought to some demon who likes to flay people.”

You felt Bucky’s gaze and looked up to meet it. You weren’t met with pity, but rather a look of understanding. You’ve done your research on Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and you know that he’s been through something like Hell too.

“Apparently, according to Cas, Crowley turned Hell into a giant line that souls had to wait in,” you said trying to lighten the mood.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“You just did,” you smirked at him but told him to ask away.

“You have a tattoo,” he said. “I was just wondering what it was.”

“Not really a question,” you joke. Bucky rolled his eyes, but you couldn’t help yourself. “But it’s an anti-possession tattoo.” You stop in your tracks and pull your shirt collar down to show him. “Kinda puts a damper on things when you have to kill a demon possessing your friend. All hunters get them. If you’re gonna be hangin’ ‘round us, you’re gonna need one too.”

“Can I?” He reached out his right hand and motioned towards the tattoo.

When you gave your nod of approval, he ran his hand over the inked skin, tracing it gently, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You stepped closer and his hand stilled.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“What for?” You bring your empty hand up to his and held it to your chest.

“That you had to be tortured. That you actually went through Hell.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that. Not at all.” You stepped closer. Close enough to feel his body heat. “I’m sorry as well. You basically went through Hell too.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” Bucky repeated.

His lips were so close. If you just moved forward…

The sound of someone loudly and obnoxiously clearing their throat forced you apart once more. You closed your eyes and tried to convince yourself that you shouldn’t resort to murder just because you couldn’t kiss someone. Dean continued to clear his throat until Bucky was at least three feet away from you.

While you were gearing up to kiss Bucky, the four other members of the group had made it to the end of the hallway. You made your way to the group, glaring at your oldest brother the entire way.

“About time,” he snarked and you rolled your eyes.

“I think we’re getting close,” Sam said quickly to change the subject. “Can you guys hear that?” He gestured to the ornate door that had escaped your notice.

You all became silent and the sound of music reached your ears. Everyone glanced around at each other in confusion.

“Is-is that,” you listen for a second longer, “Fall Out Boy?”

It was indeed Fall Out Boy. Dean pushed open the door and you all readied your weapons and defenses. You were met with a long table covered in food. Crowley stood at the head of the table with his arms open wide.

“Welcome to Hell.”

~*~

Tag List (strike though means tag didn’t work):

@grav3dollie-666 @broco8

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valkyrieofsmut · 4 years ago

Text

Captive Love 22

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: Sans is worried for Sweetheart’s safety, but she’s pissed and “not hearing it, thanks!” Sans gets tipsy and makes a mistake.

A/N: The reason Paps was pissed at Sans? Yep… someone got dusted… Warning! There is a panic attack/ flashback in this chapter! If this will trigger you, please look for the ~~~ and move to the next! Safe summary at the end! Sans is at least a bit of a pervert, and he loves to throw out awful pickup lines, right? So he's not actually trying to be aggressive- he's just a horny flirt- who's a bit tipsy... and frustrated.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Story

Insecurities and bonding time with Papyrus.

They got back to the house, Sans being angrily silent the whole way.

(Y/n) kept up with him, angrily silent for her own reasons.

Sans opened the door and hurried her in, catching her hand and pulling her up to his room.

“what th’ fuck d’ya think y’re doin’, huh?” He demanded.

“What’s wrong?” (Y/n) returned, “your pet not being obedient, now?”

Sans puffed up, seeming even angrier, now. “what th’ fuck-”

“Not following your every order and being a good, stupid little bitch?” She demanded, her voice soft, though full of anger.

“why in th’ fuck- what th’- damn it!” Sans yelled, trying to keep his anger under control. “jus’ what the hell’r ya tryin’ ta say?” He seethed.

“Bitch is the term for a female dog,” she told him. “So, I guess what I’m saying is; woof woof. Lassie wants to go home.”

“well, welcome home, sweetheart,” he growled angrily. “have fun. i’m goin’ out,” he spat.

With that Sans turned and stormed from the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall and after a moment, the front door slammed.

Sans glared at the glass in front of him, sneering at it before throwing it back and letting his hand fall back to the bar with a clunk as the glass landed.

“grillby,” he called to the fire elemental, motioning for another. “gimme some mustard, too, would ya, ya stingy bastard.”

He was saying the words, but they were hollow. Grillby knew he didn’t mean them. They were just the empty threats of keeping up an image. Keeping up that attitude of aggression and ‘don’t fuck with me unless you want to get dusted.’

Stars, he hated it.

They weren’t underground anymore! Why were they all still acting like they were?!

Why did he have to go on these stupid rounds to make sure no one got pissed and killed someone?!

…

Why did some asshole have to go dust some other asshole just because he skipped a couple of days to be with his sweetheart?

…

“jus’ leave th’ bottle,” Sans told Grillby when he finally came over to refresh his drink, a fresh bottle of mustard in his hand.

Grillby knew that Sans had a tendency to drink, trying to drown out his cares, but he also knew when he was doing it from depression, and when he something was really bothering him.

Grillby set the bottle of liquor on the bartop in front of him and set the mustard next to it before turning and walking away.

Sans was glad to have such a friendship with the flaming man, not having to get into a fight or justify himself for wanting the bottle.

He poured himself another glass, filling this one, only leaving space for the mustard he added.

Why did his Sweetheart have to go and say something like that to a monster?

Not that she wasn’t justified; the rabbit monster was acting like that and getting on his nerves, too- he’d wanted to teach her not to speak to his Sweetheart that way, but-

It was survival.

Saying things you didn’t mean, acting like none of it got to you…

It was just something you did. He did it, too, even if he hated it.

But his Sweetheart...

He loved that fire in her, that internal spark that didn’t stop because there were obstacles in front of her. But, as much as she was wanting to be strong, she wasn’t, not compared to a monster. With her lack of experience, even the smaller rabbit monster would have been able to knock her around without much difficulty, not to mention that the rabbit’s brother was there in the back, and probably more of her family, as well.

It was like she didn’t care if she was dusted… like she was on the edge of falling down and didn’t care about the consequences…

He didn’t want that- she needed to stay alive.

He needed her to stay alive-

No-

No, he didn’t-

He needed-

He needed…

…

Sans looked at the bottle seeing he’d drank somewhere between a third and half of it.

He still didn’t feel better.

He drained another glass and had a mustard chaser.

What he needed- what he really needed- was for his sweetheart to stop flinching when he touched her… when he got close to her…

It was like she expected him to hurt her- like, just because he was a monster he was going to go crazy and rip her apart…

He wished that she could stop, that it would be more obvious that she wanted to be with him-

That he could get the thought of her only being with him to keep his protection- forcing herself to be with him, just so he wouldn’t hurt her, out of his skull.

But… what could he possibly have to offer other than protection- and a few orgasms?

Nothing…

Sans gulped down another few glasses of alcohol- he just needed to get past this depressive level of drunk and to his uncaring, happy zone. Turn his stupid mind off.

(Y/n) had showered and put on some clean pajama clothing, knowing that she’d feel better after having a chance to calm down.

She still felt hurt, though!

She tried to ignore how she was feeling about the skeletal jackass, but, her feelings aside, she still had thought that they’d had a deeper connection, after how intimate their time had been the night before- not from sex, but because of how emotional it had been…

She’d never felt this close to someone before, actually…

It was a bit like having a bond that was so strong it was like it had always been there, and she couldn’t imagine her life without it, now…

The door downstairs closed, and she wondered if Sans was back, but the loud steps told her that it was Papyrus.

She didn’t want to have a fight, but didn’t want to isolate herself, either.

In the end, she decided to go down and see what Papyrus was up to.

The evening passed well, actually, surprising (Y/n) at how nonconfrontational the normally surly skeleton was.

They watched some Mettaton shows, since he seemed to be the only one who made visual media in the monster world, and Papyrus even ‘let her’ watch as he worked on some puzzles, which seemed like very advanced things compared to the ones she was used to seeing. She also watched him work on his ‘traps’, which looked like more complicated things, and she was impressed.

He was obviously flattered when she said so, hiding his huge beaming smile with a glare and playing it off, of course.

He ‘allowed’ her to be in the kitchen, which was almost like helping him cook, as he made dinner.

When it was done, Sans still hadn’t come home.

“THAT LAZYBONES IS USUALLY BACK BY NOW,” he commented, not quite hiding his nervousness.

“Where does he usually go when he’s not here or on his rounds?” (Y/n) asked.

“THAT GREASE TRAP EXCUSE OF A BAR, GRILLBY’S,” he answered, disgust dripping from his voice.

“Why don’t you like Grillby’s, Papyrus?”

“IT’S- It’s Not The Place To Be! It’s Like You’re Pressured To Partake In Alcohol, It Being A Bar And All, But Sans Can Get A Bit Carried Away If He’s Having A Hard Day… I DON’T APPRECIATE HIM SKIPPING MY SKILLFULLY MADE DINNER TO WALLOW IN SELF PITY AND SELF LOATHING!”

(Y/n)’s brow crinkled in concern.

“Well, I’m sorry he’s missing out on your delicious dinner,” she said, trying to cheer him up.

Papyrus gave a soft “Nyeh Heh- Hmm,” before taking a breath and composing himself again. “WELL, I’M FINISHED WAITING FOR HIS LAZY ASS. LET’S NOT LET THE FOOD GET COLD AND GO TO WASTE!”

“Here, here,” (Y/n) toasted, and they dug in.

Papyrus really was getting better at cooking with all of the silent help she’d been giving him. The lasagna was no longer something that she had to choke down for survival; now it was about as good as one of those not quite right frozen boxed meals.

It was definitely edible, though!

The sun had gone down, Papyrus was in bed, probably asleep, by now, and (Y/n) was relaxing in Sans’ bed, going over the day, what had happened, and what she was going to say to Sans when he got back.

Her emotions had taken a toll on her, and she had maybe been a bit unnecessarily rude, even if it was how she felt. She didn’t have to take it so far, though.

They definitely needed to talk about what was going on between them and what their relationship was, if only to give her an answer and make her not feel so used.

She hoped it was something that didn’t make her feel used…

The door downstairs opened and closed, the sound of keys falling to the floor barely reaching her upstairs.

Uneven steps made it up the staircase and to the door, and (Y/n) readied herself to talk to Sans.

The door opened and Sans nearly fell into the room, startling (Y/n) and throwing her for a loop, making her forget everything she’d been about to say.

Sans chuckled at himself as he straightened, his hazy eyelights scanning his room for his next destination as he closed the door. They landed on (Y/n) and his grin doubled, at least.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“sweeeeetheeeeaaart!” He called, walking over to the edge of the bed, putting one hand on it and posing in a way that was supposed to be suggestive- she could tell from his cheesy expression. “heh... sweetheart, anyone ever tell ya ya should sell hotdogs- ‘cause ya a’ready know how ta make a wiener stand!”

He laughed at the lewd pick up line, as she tried to figure out just how drunk he actually was.

“Uh, nope, no one’s ever told me that… um… Sans, how much did you have to drink?”

He chortled for a moment. “jus’ ‘nough, sweetheart; i can still perform, ‘f that’s what y’re worried ‘bout… heh heh heh. liquor ain’t th’ only hard thing ‘round here…”

(Y/n) wasn’t sure how to respond. Oh, he’d been suggestive plenty, and insinuated things more than she’d thought was normal, but he rarely ever came out and pushed any lewd comments on her.

“Sans- you seem kinda… drunk…”

He laughed again. “i’m wasted, but this condom n’my pocket don’t have ta be!”

“You- you carry a condom in your pocket…?” She now realized that all the times they’d been together, they’d never used protection…

It was a bit… unsettling…

Sans was still laughing it up, his hand finding her leg and pulling her closer to him, until she was at the edge of the bed, her legs hanging off. “nah- not like ‘s necessary, though, right? humans can do anal ta avoid gettin’ pregnant, right?”

(Y/n) was feeling nervous.

Was going to go for it…?

Sans was leaning over her, nuzzling into her shoulder, and the smell of his breath was enough to make her cough.

He smelled like bourbon and mustard.

“Sans, I wanted to talk to you about earlier, I don’t want to have sex right now-”

Sans straightened up a bit, trailing one hand over her cheek and jaw, trying to hold back his chuckles. “aww, c’mon, sweetheart- ‘f i’m a pain in yer ass…”

(Y/n) felt the blood drain from her face.

“we can jus’ use more lube!” He burst out laughing harder.

(Y/n) was fighting to keep her panic under control, but she was trapped, pressed to the bed, him above her-

She couldn’t move-

Memories flashed in her mind as she tried not to panic and freak out.

She tried to keep her voice steady and get the words out without stuttering. “No. No Sans, I don’t want to have sex.”

Sans was still in his semi drunken hysterics, cuddling into her stiff body. “aww, c’mon, sweetheart- i ‘s feelin’ a lil off t’day, but ya definitely turned me on!”

“No!” She wasn’t going to be quiet and take it. As scared as she was, she had to make her state of consent known. “No! Sans stop!” She had hope that he just needed to get it through the alcohol haze.

Sans grumbled, his high moods cut lower, now.

“sweetheart, ’m not gonna do anythin’ ta hurt ya, jus’ be calm, stop shakin’.”

“Sans, get off of me,” she told him.

“sweetheart- y’re breakin’ my nonexistent heart, here, ya know i ain’t gonna do anythin’ ta hurt ya!”

His volume wasn’t helping anything, and neither was the way his hands were pinning her shoulders.

“Stop-!”

“sweetheart- calm th’ fuck down, i ain’t doin’ anythin’ ta ya!”

Being frustrated wasn’t helping the situation, Sans could tell, and neither was being drunk, but he was too drunk and frustrated to get her to calm down, and the fear in her eyes as they looked up at him was stabbing him in the soul.

“don’t look at me like that, sweetheart- i ain’t even tryna do anythin’! ‘cept get ya ta calm down! th’ fuck is wrong wit ya?!”

“Stop!”

Sans pushed himself up to hover over her, his hands on the bed and his feet still on the floor. “sweetheart- i ain’t even touchin’ ya! calm down!”

(Y/n) couldn’t hold it back- panic had flooded her system. Her body was shaking, her mind was dissociating, she couldn’t take her eyes from him, but she couldn’t see him, either. She was hyperventilating, and she still couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen into her system.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A scream pushed its way from her lungs, loud, gut wrenching- terrified…

Sans felt it stab his soul, start to tear it into teeny tiny little shreds.

She was so afraid of him.

“sweetheart, shh, stop, y’re fine-”

Sans was pulled from her eye line, tossed roughly to the side, and Papyrus’ back was to her as he glared down at the shorter skeleton.

The scream petered out, and (Y/n) started to come back down a little, her breathing still heavy.

“what th’ hell, paps?!” Sans demanded from the floor near the wall where he’d landed.

“YOU ARE BEHAVING LIKE AN ABSOLUTE ASS! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING- ARE YOU TRYING TO SCARE YOUR HUMAN LIKE THAT?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, SANS?! I DIDN’T THINK YOU’D EVER STOOP SO LOW!”

Even the righteous fury in his tone couldn’t pull her back to the present.

“i- i wasn’t tryna scare ‘er, paps! she jus’ started freakin’ out!”

“I DON’T CARE FOR YOUR REASONS!” Papyrus turned, his expression softening as he picked (Y/n) up, cradling her to his ribcage. She struggled a little, but his arms held her, tight enough that she couldn’t get away, though gently enough that she didn’t feel restrained. He turned and started toward the door, and Sans climbed up, going after him.

“paps- put ‘er down! give ‘er back!” This is where he’d normally be activating his protective skills, but he was drunk enough that he was having trouble multitasking.

Papyrus turned to him, staring him down with a withering death glare. “DON’T YOU EVEN TRY TO FUCKING TOUCH HER, YOU FILTH. CLEAN YOURSELF UP, YOU'RE A DISGRACE!”

(Y/n) looked up to see Papyrus standing above her as she was set on a soft surface, and fear started to resurface as she realized that it was his bed.

Papyrus turned to his desk, ignoring the army of rough looking action figures and instead gathering a pile of papers that looked like the puzzles and traps she’d seen earlier, and turned to the door.

“He Won’t Touch You- You’re Safe Here…”

“P- Papyrus, where are you going?” She asked, a little panicked at her savior leaving.

“I’m Going To Keep Watch- To Make Sure He Won’t Be Able To Touch You.”

He paused with his hand on the doorknob when she spoke again, quietly, “thank you, Papyrus…”

There was a beat of silence before Papyrus huffed, “OF COURSE,” and left.

A/N: Safe Summary! Sans is tipsy and comes back, being super suggestively flirty and cuddly/ touchy and inadvertently pins her. Sweetheart starts having a flashback/ panic attack, and freaks out, but Sans can't quite read the situation, and can't figure out how to calm her down. Sans: 'ey! what th' fuck'd ya do that fer?! ya tryna get me dusted?! m' soul's gonna fuckin' shatter, ya keep doin' that! Oh, yes... me... I'm the one terrorizing people... -oh... wait... XP

#underfell sans x reader #uf!sans x you #red x reader #underfrick #Smut #underfluff #tsundere sans #reader insert #y/n #mutual pining #romance #angst #fluff #multi part story #read on Ao3 #past abusive relationship #

#underfell sans x reader #uf!sans x you #red (underfell) x y/n #underfrick #underfluff #reader insert #y/n #mutual pining #romance #angst #fluff #multi part story #Read on AO3 #past abusive relationship

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diddlesanddoodles · 5 years ago

Text

Dumpling ch 27

When they made it back to the library, the sun had already set and though she knew Farris was going to be angry that she had not returned before his curfew, it was the farthest thing on her mind.

“For the time being,” Maevis said to Jae and Nenani. “I think it best we keep what has happened here to ourselves.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Warren?” Jae asked dubiously. “I mean, he has a right to know.”

Maevis nodded. “I will broach it with his majesty and when Keral returns, I will share our new information with him as well. But for you two...act as though nothing has happened.”

“Well...I did kind of tell Farris that were looking for dead people in the tunnels.” Jae admitted sheepishly.

“Then you will tell him you found the lost tunnel, but no catacombs,” Maevis instructed. “And that because of your unfamiliarity, you got lost. Perhaps that will gain you a little sympathy for the hour.”

Jae leveled a flat and unimpressed look at the magician. “…I don’t know if you’ve actually ever met Farris, but that’s not really something he does.”

“Nenani,” Maevis said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Today must have been very hard for you. I am sorry to have drug you through all of it.”

“How are we going to find the fallen flame?” she asked.

Maevis looked at her, taken aback, but seemed very pleased that she had not been reduced to a further sobbing incoherent mess by the day’s events. “First we must ascertain what, or who, this fallen flame is. Barnaby has likely retired already for the night and I will not rouse him. The poor man needs his rest, but tomorrow we will begin our research. But for now, I believe both of you need some supper and a good night’s sleep.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be getting much sleep after seeing the glowing green skeleton garble cryptic nonsense at us,” Jae said, rubbing the back of his head. “...Donal’s gonna hate me tomorrow.”

“No, I don’t suppose any of us should expect a peaceful night tonight,” Maevis agreed. “But we should make the effort regardless.”

“Come on, Nenani,” Jae said in tired resignation. “I’ll take you back to Farris. Maybe if you give him your best kicked puppy look he won’t be that angry.”

……………………………………………

The cooking fires had been extinguished when they made it into the camp proper and everyone had retired to the hut for the night. As Nenani and Jae approached, they could hear voices from inside and what seemed to be an argument. Farris’s irate voice chief among them.

“...better have one damn good excuse!”

“It’s the brat yer talking about,” said someone. Nenani was sure that it was Bart as it was too deep for anyone else. “He won’t have anythin’ but a mouth full of excuses.”

“You should go find that old cocotte, boss.” Someone laughed and she heard Yale reply, “It’s in the back of the tent on top of the larger oak chest. Y’know. Just in case.”

“Not a bad suggestion, lads.”

Beside her, Nenani heard Jae grumble unhappily. “This day just keeps getting better and better...”

“You don’t need to stay,” she told him. “I’m fine.”

Jae glanced at her with furrowed brows. “Are you sure? Because you’re awfully...quiet. I mean, seeing the thing and hearing all that junk...it freaked me out. Aren’t you scared?”

She thought about it. “The smoke mage scares me more. A lot more. But the skeleton doesn’t. Not really. I mean he does, it was a talking skeleton! He was a skeleton and we was talking! But...he didn’t seem to want to hurt me and he did tell us some things, so that has to be good, right? He wanted to help.”

“I guess...still freaky.”

“Very freaky,” she agreed. “And it does help to talk about it, I mean. When it was just in my head all the time it just felt like it got bigger and bigger until I couldn’t stand it anymore and sometimes it was all I could think about. But...saying it all out loud helped a lot. And you were right about Maevis. He’s really good about making you feel better when your scared.”

Jae smiled fondly. “Yeah. He is. For a man, he’s very motherly.”

She laughed. “He’s very kind.”

“So I guess I’ll leave you to your fate then,” Jae said and was about to say his goodbyes when the moonlight above them was abruptly cut off. They both looked up and any hope that Nenani could somehow muster a pitiful look great enough to surmount Farris’s anger was quickly dashed when they saw the spice master’s face.

“Ah shit...” Jae said just as Farris reached down and grabbed him up by the back of his tunic. “AH! Fuck, Farris! Put me down!” Nenani was also quickly swept up into his other hand and without a word, the giant marched back to the hut with his prizes. Farris used his shoulder to push his way into room with his captives and all eyes turned to them.

“Ah! Well, look what the cat dragged in!” Kol laughed.

“Hold ‘em, Yale.” Farris said gruffly as he dumped both Jae and Nenani into Yale’s lap and turned back out into the night. He caught Nenani awkwardly and Jae mostly fell onto the cot, but Yale was quick to grab onto the young man’s leg as he tried to scurry away.

“Oh no ya don’t, boyo!” Yale laughed.

Jae twisted and kicked at Yale’s hand and managed to wiggle his foot out as Yale tried to adjust his grip on Nenani. But as Jae tried to make a break for the door, Bart’s foot was there to block his path and then rough and hard hands gripped him around the middle and lifted him up. Bart sat the flailing boy on his thigh and held him, ruffling his hair and making the unhappy human even more so.

“Nice try, lad,” Bart chuckled. “But ye should’a known better than cross Farris.”

“It was an accident!” Jae protested, experimentally wiggling in Bart’s grip, but Bart had a solid hold of him. “It’s not like there are windows in those tunnels, y’know!”

“Aye, but this ain’t yer first offense neither, is it boy?”

Jae sighed, exasperated as he tried to fix his hair. “Great...what else did I do?”

“Brought the lil’un back without ‘er marker,” the butcher replied.

Jae paused and considered that. “Oh...yeah.”

“And then before that,” Yale added, fixing his grip on Nenani so she sat in the loop of his arm. “Ya

brought her back all drunk off a’ Maevis’s loopy juice.”

“Yeah, but that one wasn’t my fault,” Jae protested. “That shouldn’t count!”

“And yet it does,” Saen added, his wide grin just making Jae all the more irate. But his bluster and bravado dropped like a rock when Farris walked back into the hut caring a cocotte. The kitchen staff burst out into raucous laughter at the sight and Jae just stared incredulously.

“You got to be joking,” Jae said, real worry starting to sink in and he started to struggle, but Bart just held him firmly.

Farris took the lid off the cocotte and jerked his head. “Put ‘im in, Bart.”

Bart was laughing loudly as the others as he complied with Farris’s order and forced Jae into the open bowl of the pot. “Duck yer head, boy,” Bart chuckled he pressed the human’s head down and Farris’ slipped the lid on top.

“LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU FUCKERS! THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” Nenani could hear the muffled sounds of Jae’s kicks against the metal pot’s sides. She sank into Yale, trying to maker herself as small as possible.

“You may not think so!” Kol said to Jae with a loud and boisterous laugh. “Oh...oh, Gods. I can’t breathe.”

Everyone was beside themselves with mirth and Nenani ducked down further behind Yale’s arm as Farris sat the cocotte down on the floor and use one foot to secure the lid. He flicked his sharp and angry green eyes to meet her own.

“Told ya one thing, didn’t I?” Farris asked, his voice deceptively low. She could almost see the vein at his temple throb with ire. His face was almost purple. She nodded, gulping nervously.

“And what did I fuckin’ say?”

“...to be back before sundown,” she replied meekly.

“Aye. Ya see the sun anywhere, lil’un?”

“No, sir.”

“And yet ye two come strollin’ in two hours passed curfew!” Farris’s voice rose and it sounded very loud in the small hut.

“We didn’t mean to!” she protested.

Farris pinned her with a very unamused look and jerked his head down the cocotte under his foot. “Ye wanna join ‘em in there, Dumplin’?”

She shook her head vigorously.

“Then don’t be feedin’ me any ‘a that,” He warned. “Your punishment comes tomorrow, lass. When I tell ya to do somethin’ or when’ta do it, it ain’t no request. I expect it to be done the way I told ya. Understand me?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. ‘Cause next time somethin’ like this happens, I’m stuffin’ ya both in there.”

“THERE’S NO ROOM!” Jae’s muffled reply came from down near the floor.

“I’ll get a bigger one.” Farris replied flatly.

“Ugh, fucking piece of...how long are you gonna make me stay in here?”

Farris scratched the side of his face as he considered. “Ye got ‘bout eight hours before the sun rises and nine before Donal will be expectin’ ya.”

“YOUR GONNA MAKE ME SIT IN HERE ALL NIGHT?!”

“Aye. Use it as a’ opportunity to figure out how to tell time in th’ dark so this won’t be happenin’ again.”

“FARRIS FOR REAL. THIS WAS FUNNY WHEN I WAS TEN, BUT THERE IS A LOT LESS SPACE IN HERE NOW!”

“Settle in, brat. Ye ain’t gettin’ out till I say.”

“Wha –? Seriously?”

“Aye.”

“DAMMIT, FARRIS –!”

………………………………………………

Farris had not been bluffing when he told Jae he would be spending the night inside of the cocotte and as everyone began to get into their cot’s for the night, Farris weighed the lid down with a large rock before settling into his cot and closing his eyes. But in the early morning hours before the sun had risen, Nenani woke from a fretful and not very refreshing sleep to see Farris at the edge of his cot, wiping away the sleep from his eyes before looking down at the cocotte. He bent down to remove the rock and slipped the lid off. Jae was curled up inside, fast asleep. His chest rose and sank slowly as he breathed.

Farris touched the young man’s back and nudged him. “Come on, boy. Wake up.”

Jae groaned and twisted in response to the prodding, but before he was fully awake, Faris slipped his hand under the young man and pulled him out. The bleary eyed human was set on his feet, but Farris held him steady as he found his footing and once Jae was awake enough to stand for himself, Farris nudged him towards the hut’s door. “Off with ye now. Ye got a few hours yet before Donal will be lookin’ fer ya. Go get a bit a’ rest in a real bed. And don’t think I won’t put ye back in there if ye don’t start mindin’ me, eh?”

Jae just mumbled something noncommittally, still half asleep, rubbing at his eyes. Farris snorted, but the edges of his mouth curled into a light smile. He pressed his knuckles into Jae’s back to encourage him forward.

“I’m going, I’m going...” Jae replied sleepily. “Geez...first that fucking skeleton ghost and then fucking cocottes...never gonan get a full night’s sleep again at this rate. Just gonna tell Donal I’m sick or somethin’.”

Farris narrowed his eyes. “What was that?”

Jae turned back to stare blurry eyed at the spice master. “Huh? What was what?”

“...skeleton ghost?”

Jae was suddenly very much awake and his mouth floundered as he tried to explain himself. “Oh...uh. Not...uh. Nothing. Just nothing.”

“Yer were always a terrible liar, boy,” Farris said with a warning peppering his voice.

“Just a bad dream is all,” Jae replied, but even Nenani could tell that his nervous body language gave away the lie.

Farris pinned Jae with a look. “Jae?”

The young human opened his mouth as though he were going to answer, but paused and then turned on his heals and ran out of the hut before the giant could make a grab for him. Farris just glared after him and sighed. “Gods piss on it...”

Nenani watched silently from her spot tucked up against Yale’s side as Farris spent a few quiet moments for himself in the quiet, just looking out passed the open door to the sun as it slowly started to peak over the edge of the horizon. When the first hint of sunlight crept into the hut, Farris stood up with a grunt. “Alright, boys. Get yer lazy arses up and let’s get to it!”

Yale had become very good at sensing where Nenani was in the mornings and well before she felt Yale stir, his hand slipped under her and he pulled her up with him as he sat up, yawning. Yale was still rubbing the sleep from his face when Farris stepped up to his cot and held his hand out.

“Huh?” Yale asked, looking up at him.

Farris gestured with his fingers. “Hand me the Dumplin’, Yale. She’s with me today. I’ll leave the mornin’ prep to ye to look over.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Yale replied, holding Nenani out to Farris. She settled easily into his warm hands, regretting her poor sleep and as Farris gave out the orders and quickly ran through the day’s work assignments, she laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. There was no chance the smoke mage could get near her. Not with Farris around. Even with him angry at her, she still felt perfectly safe. The warm ball she had curled herself into, however, was abruptly undone when Farris sat her down on the cold wooden table inside the tent. The morning chill lingered even as the braziers and cook fires were lit.

“Now then,” Farris said as he placed several empty jars onto the table and filled them with vinegar. “By the end of breakfast, I’m expectin’ these all finished. Hear me, lass?”

She looked at the jars and counted. There were seven. It had taken her almost an entire day to do nine and now Farris wanted seven within a few hours. Her face must have betrayed her inner turmoil, because Farris laughed.

“Oh, aye. I’m serious. Seven by end of breakfast, girl. Best be gettin’ a move on then,” he said. “I’ll check on ya in a bit an’ don’t let me catch ya slackin’ none. Remember; that cocotte’s empty now and I’m sure yer plenty small enough t’be fittin’ just fine.”

Her strategy starting off was to pre-ground all of each ingredient first and then divvy them between each jar. She started with the licorice root as it was the easiest one and then started in on the ginger next. Farris peaked in on her after the first hour as she was just starting in on the ginger, but seemed satisfied enough to leave her at it. As she ground up the yellow roots, her mind began to drift and all she could focus on was the spirit’s words of warning.

“Find...the fallen flame...little one. They are...the one...who survived...the slaughter...of the ancient...blood...who has...no name...to pass...to her children.”

She wondered if Maevis or Barnaby were up yet and if they had began to look for clues. It just felt like they were sinking deeper into the mud and no where closer to knowing anything more about the smoke mage. It frustrated her to no end and it was only when she realized she had all but mashed the ginger into soup that she snapped out of it. She stared into the yellow goop clinging to the bowl and pestle. Her dress and hands were splattered with it. The smell clung to her.

“He is...the smoldering...wreck...of a man...once promised...great things.”

A wreck of a man promised great things. Was he out for revenge? What had he been promised? Had the fallen flame...wronged him? But why was he coming after her if this fallen flame was who he was really after? What had her Uncle done to deserve the death he got, stuck down by this mad man…

Her breath hitched in her throat as a sudden thought came to her. In her dream, her Uncle had spoken to the smoke mage and had said...said that he would be denied again.

“You will be denied. This time and every other. You have haunted my family all these years, took everything we ever had, and yet still you are here, demanding more!”

“I will have what is mine. I will see the dead walls rise...”

“You bathe in the blood of thousands. And crown yourself emperor of a mountain of bones. But you are not my King. No King at all...and she will never be yours, no matter how you twist and pull these threads. In this life or the next! She chose Hayron.”

She chose...Hayron. Her father.

“Mama?” Nenani asked aloud to the winds. “Mama...chose Papa...over him...”

Her mother...was the fallen flame. Oira. The woman who rocked her to sleep and sang her lullabies. Who made her clothes and teased her when she grew too big for them. Her gentle, warm smile. Her laugh. The smell of her hair and feeling of being wrapped in her arms. Safe and loved and…

The smoke mage had taken her mother from her. Had murdered her father and her uncle. And now he came for her. A nauseating pull from inside her stomach had her doubled over and it was only when she struggled to take in a breath of air that she realized she was crying. Yelling. Screaming. The flap to the tent flew open and many bodies rushed inside. She heard their voices, but could not understand their words. Hands, warm and soft, touched her lightly and she shrank back. There was a horrible urge to bite and scratch and hurt something. Someone. It was difficult to resist the urge.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” she yelled, her voice cracking and making her throat ache. Her head hurt so badly now. Sound made everything hurt and all she wanted was to curl up and disappear into nothing. No sound. No touch. None of it…

“NENANI!” She opened her eyes to find bright green irises looming over her, hands cradling her in large open palms. Yale was looking down over Farris’s shoulders in worried bewilderment. She saw Saen and Harit. Farris’s face was suddenly all she could see and she realized belatedly that he was speaking to her. “What is it, lil’un? What’s wrong? Talk to me, lass!”

Her chest heaved in great gasping sobs and she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t meet his eyes and she pressed her knees to her chest, curling into herself and shaking. It was too much. Everything hurt and throbbed and she was so tired. No more. Please no more. Help me. Please. Someone...

She could feel Farris’s hand rub down her back, trying to soother her. To calm her. His voice washed over her in a worried, soft brush of air. “Come on, lil’un. Breathe now. Yer alright...”

“He...he’s coming to kill me...” she told him, choking on her own tears.

“What?” Farris’s voice did not sound like his normal self. He sounded concerned. Very concerned. “What are ye talkin’ about? Who wants t’be killin’ ya?”

“...the smoke mage...”

“What? What the fuck is a smoke mage? Ain’t no one after ya, Nenani. Ye had a bad dream is all.”

“No,” she said, shaking he head and the looked up to meet his gaze with wet and wild eyes, full of fear and desperation. “No, Farris...please. I...I’m in trouble...really bad trouble.”

And she told him. Everything.

……………………………………………………………………….

His heart was pounding loudly in her ear, but she did not care. She pressed her forehead into the fabric of his shirt as he carried her through the halls, his hands pressing her to his chest protectively. Everything passed by in a blur and her head ached and her tummy hurt...

There was a crash as a door was violently flung open and she could smell parchment and ink.

“MAEVIS!” Farris roared, the sound of it echoing around the large expanse of the King’s Library. “GET OUT HERE YA FUCKER!”

“F-Farris! What on earth is the matter?” she heard Barnaby speak. He sounded alarmed. She didn’t blame him, though. Farris sounded murderous.

“Holy hell Farris!” Jae. What was he doing in the library? Didn’t he have work?

“Gods above, Farris, what ever is the...ah,” Maevis’s voice came from the other end of the room. “Oh my. I think I know why you’re here...”

“OH, I BET YE DO! WHEN THE FUCK WERE YA GONNA TELL ME SOME LUNATIC’S BEEN TRYIN’ TO KILL MY FUCKIN’ WARD?!”

“Farris, please. I understand you’re angry...”

“ANRGY? YA THINK I’M ANGRY? MAEVIS, I COULD GLADLY HURL YER USELESS ARSE OUT THAT FUCKIN’ WINDOW RIGHT NOW!”

“Please. This is not helping. I can tell you everything if you just...”

“JUST WHAT? SIT DOWN AND HAVE SOME DAMN FUCKIN’ TEA? LOOK AT HER, YA FUCKIN’ NUTCASE! SHE’S SHAKIN’ TO PIECES!”

“We can explain what’s going on, but...”

“AND YOU, BOY! YOU KNEW AND DIDN’T SAY A DAMN WORD EITHER! YA TOOK HER INTO THOSE TUNNELS AND FUCKING….WHAT? WOKE SOME DEAD FUCKER UP? AND YA THOUGHT IT’D BE A GRAND IDEA FER HER TO SEE THAT?”

“We needed her there to be able hear them if they spoke.”

“SHE’S A FUCKIN’ BABE, MAEVIS! A CHILD! SHE SHOULDN’T BE ANYWHERE NEAR THIS MESS!”

“BUT SHE IS!” Maevis’s voice matched Farris’s. “She’s firmly in the thick of whatever it is this Smoke Mage is after. We’re trying to find out what he wants. To protect her!”

“IT AIN’T YER FUCKIN’ JOB TO BE PROTECTIN’ HER! IT’S MINE!”

“Farris, please, listen to us,” Jae begged. “This guy is really bad news. That dead guy gave us some clues to how to stop him and that’s what we’re trying really hard to figure out. We have to find this fallen flame person and...”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS A FALLEN GODDAMN FLAME?!”

“We think it’s a person. Maybe someone who...”

“Mama...” Nenani said quietly, uncurling herself from Farris’s shirt. Her head hurt so much…

“What?” Maevis asked. “Nenani, what did you say?”

“Mama is...was the fallen flame.”

“You’re...mother?”

“Nenani,” Barnaby said to her, his voice urgent and pleading. “Nenani, dear, I need you to tell me. Was your mother’s name Aine?”

“No...her name was Oira...”

“Yes, my dear, but was her full name Aine Elaine Oira?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Nenani, please, this is very important. I have reason to believe you are right, that the person the spirit spoke of is your mother. This fallen flame, but I need to know...”

“But she’s dead...she can’t help us. He killed her. And Papa...” Nenani said. There was another painful throb inside her head and she felt ill. “My head hurts...”

“Farris, put her here,” Maevis said gently, gesturing to the table.

“What are –?”

“I have some tonic to help with the pain. She’s hurting.”

She felt his hands curl around her for a moment before he lowered her onto the table. Barnaby was next to her suddenly and held up a tea cup, a small amount of bluish liquid at the bottom. “Drink, my dear. It will help.”

She tipped the cup back and the liquid hit her throat and she began to cough. It tastes vile and burned a little. Barnaby rubbed her back as she coughed. “There’s a good dear.”

“Oh my child,” Maevis said, standing near one end of the table with his hands pressed to the surface. “I am so sorry...”

Farris growled. “Ye should be fuckin’ apologizin’ to me dammit, Maevis. Does the King know? Why hadn’t ye said anythin’ before?”

“Yes. You’re right,” the magician said, bowing his head. “And I will explain what we know now and…wait.” Maevis’s head tilted to the side as though he had heard a sudden noise. “What…?”

“Huh?” Jae asked, taking a few steps towards him. “What’s wrong?”

“I just –Oh!” Maevis’s looked worried now. “Oh no…”

“What’s ‘oh no’? Maevis?” Jae asked, his own voice beginning to sound worried.

“One of my barriers was just destroyed...”

“What? Now? Where?”

“The one I cast near the north tower and...” Maevis’s eyes opened wide. “Another! Some...someone is dismantling my barriers!”

The magician ran to the window and thrust it open. The cold morning air rushed in, scattering a few papers. Nenani’s head gave another powerful, painful throb and she dropped the tea cup and it shattered at her feet. Farris loomed above her protectively, reaching an arm around her.

“Jae, my boy,” Barnaby said as he hurriedly thrust something wrapped in a hemp blanket into the young man’s arms. “Take this.”

“What is…?” Jae unwrapped the top part of the bundle and from the folds of it was the hilt of a sword. Jae starred at it in disbelief and apprehension. “What –?!”

“Just in case,” Barnaby said, his face strained. “Just in case.”

“Wha...where the hell did you get a sword?” Jae demanded. “And why do I need it?”

Nenani’s head was swimming and the tonic did not seem to be helping at all. In fact, it seemed to make it that much worse. She heard the voices around her argue and speak, but she did not hear or understand them. She was too engrossed with trying to fight the painful aching between her temples. And then she smelled it. The scent of ash and smolder. She opened her eyes and looked around the room, searching with fervent paranoia. Her eyes were drawn to the velvet curtain that marked Maevis’s private study and there she saw it. Thin tendrils of smoke leaking up from behind the curtain and she followed it up and up to the ceiling. The face of a stag skull starred back at her, its two red eyes glowing from high up. He seemed to be suspended in air, but she realized he was crouched on the topmost shelf a hundred or so feet up, staring down at them.

“UP!” Nenani screamed, raising her hand towards the black cloaked intruder. They all craned their heads up and finally he was revealed to them. He was no longer a possible figment of Nenani’s imagination. He was there. He was real. And they all saw him.

“Stay down, lass.” Farris told her, nudging her down into the safety of his looped arm.

“By the seventh seal...” Baranby breathed as he too laid eyes on the smoke mage. The stag skull mask turned to the archivist and tilted curiously. “It’s true...”

“Well I am surprised,” the black figure said, high amusement in his tone. “Is that truly you, archivist? I did not think you were still alive, but there you are. Still intact and everything! It appears you’ve managed to escape their soup pot all these years. Too bony for you, giants? I can rough him up a bit for you. Make him a little more tender.”

“How...” Barnaby seemed lost for words and in great distress.

“Shut your filthy mouth, Mage,” Maevis growled up at the figure, reaching out to wrap his hands around Barnaby and pulling him closer to his person. “If you should even think about harming him, I will rip your legs off.”

The smoke mage just laughed. “And you magician. Your annoying spells and incantations have been quite bothersome. Forgive me if I wasn’t very delicate in dismantling them. They were in my way.”

“What do you want here?” Maevis demanded.

“You have something of mine. I am simply here to collect. As well as pay you back handsomely for destroying my favorite pet. He still had plenty of use let in him before his body would have given out.”

“There is nothing for you here. I suggest you leave.”

“No,” the mage said and pointed his finger down towards Farris. “No, I don’t believe I will. I have need of that one. That thorn guard’s bastard...”

Farris growled a deep, guttural, feral sound, and his arm pulled Nenani closer to him. “Over my fuckin’ rottin’ corpse ye will, ye hazey lil’ fuck.”

“Such eloquent talk, giant,” the Smoke Mage replied dryly. “But if that is all I need to do, then it will be my pleasure.”

The Mage raised his hands and a black mist burst from his palms. Farris barely had time to take a breath before the force of it hit him straight in the chest and sent him flying back several dozen feet to crash against a bookcase. He fell to the floor and did not get up.

“FARRIS!” Nenani screamed. Jae’s arm wrapped around her shoulder when she made to run to her guardian.

“ENOUGH!” Maevis sent two blue orbs back at the Mage who leaped away from the wall just as the blue light struck where he had once been. Parchment and the shredded remains of several books rained down upon them. The Mage clung to wall like a bat and raised his palm towards Maevis to release another powerful burst of black mist. It struck the magician in the shoulder and sent him flying to the floor. He was dazed, but not knocked out, groaning against the pain and struggling to get back to his feet.

“NO!” Nenani yelled and then looked around to see where the Mage had gone, but his movements had been so fast…

“NENANI!” Jae yelled and pushed her away from him just as the Smoke Mage’s sword came down between them. Nenani fell hard on her hip and look up just in time to see the black figure standing above her, his hand reaching out for her. Then movement as Jae was there behind him, his own sword raised above his head to strike at the Mage and Nenani recognized the sword immediately.

...it was her father’s sword.

The skull tilted and Jae brought the blade down, but in a flash the Mage was turned towards Jae, his own black blade parrying the boy’s downward thrust. Jae looked startled at the figure’s incredible speed and that was all the time the Mage needed. He kicked Jae in the chest and the boy fell back hard. Jae laid there dazed for a few moments, but he got back onto his feet, wobbling and breathing hard.

“You’re annoying,” the Mage growled and turned his hand towards Jae as though to send a shot of black mist at him as well.

“NENANI, DUCK!” Maevis shouted and she had just enough time to pull her head down before another blue orb shot towards the Mage and this time it hit true and the Mage was sent hurling across the room. Jae went to Nenani and helped her up.

“RUN!” Maevis told them, pointing to the open window. “GO! GET TO THE KING’S KEEP!”

“Com on,” Jae said, pulling her along with him and in his other hand he still held the sword. “We need to move!”

“But Farris!” she protested, sending back an anxious glance to where the spice master lay prone on the ground. His head was bleeding, but she could see his chest falling and rising.

“We have to go!” Jae told her and even as she allowed herself to be pulled and ushered to the window, she did not take her eyes off of the prone form of her guardian.

#DUMPLING #g/t #Giant/tiny #g/t fantasy story #humans #giants #Vhasshal #Maevis #Farris #Jae #Barnaby #Nenani #smoke mage #angst #adventure #g/t writing

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hellsbovnd · 5 years ago

Text

what its like to pretend.

wc: 2719 focus: leonnaux altoix a/n: caught a writing bug. first installment of probably a three-part series, but i have other stuff i wanna work on before i continue this! thanks ebonguard for sprinting with me and encouraging my Mess lol

and i swam in the wakes of imposters just to feel what it’s like to pretend;

[ PDF MIRROR ]

One of the greatest skills that Leonnaux possessed was the ability to blend in, despite his burning desire to stand out. It hadn’t been easy to forge these skills, and the early days were rife with trial and error while his makeup work steadily improved, while he picked up little tricks to alter his figure or the way he carried himself—gait being one of the most difficult things to consciously alter. These days, he felt as comfortable in the skin of someone else as he did in his own.

The best way to test his disguises, he’d found was of course in the midst of other people—parties, nights out on the city streets. While he always asked for at least passing approval of his disguise ideas from Edda—“I’m asking you if you think this is convincing, not if you think it’s attractive,” he would occasionally remind her for his zanier ideas—the only way to really tell was among strangers (or better yet those he knew before, but he honestly would feel bad for deceiving his friends in such a way).

If no one was suspicious, it would get added to his repertoire—filed away for future use.

Tonight he’d chosen a dive bar in one of Ul’dah’s seedier areas: far away from the sort of establishment he would usually frequent, but the food was good, at least. Never tried a drink before, didn’t want to risk it at the time just in case drinking made it harder to maintain a façade. He had used this establishment to test disguises before and the bartender remained unconvinced of his authenticity for the entire night. That had been over a year ago, though, and he liked to think that he had improved substantially since then.

As Leonnaux made his way inside, he found the bar was just as smoke-choked as he remembered it. The lanterns on each of the tables were forced to cut their way through a thick curtain of smoke to illuminate the space. Leonnaux wrinkled his nose at the smell, his hands buried in his pockets, a wry smile pulling at the corners of his lips. The establishment was very nearly filled to capacity, with a number of patrons drinking their sorrows at the bar or engaged in a merry night of banter at one of the tables.

One or two parties were even engaged in some heated card games on the balcony above, but he wasn’t in the mood for cards tonight—he was in the mood to get even.

The disguise of the night was on the subtler side of things; unlike his adventure in Ishgard during the Fury’s Moon, he tried to keep his appearance fairly close to his actual appearance. It was often the subtle changes that were the easiest to pull off, even if they went against his usual philosophy of every impression you make on a stranger should be wrong.

In Ishgard, that philosophy meant making drastic changes in both appearance and manner. Tonight, however, the policy was applied more loosely. He didn’t change the color of his hair, or even the length tonight—though the character that he had constructed presented herself in a more feminine manner than Leonnaux typically did in his day-to-day life—and more rough and tumble besides. He donned a pair of leather pants that he had picked up recently, and threw on a leather long coat on top of it. He settled on compromising with well-fitted, cropped halter top that would hide the fact that his cleavage was fake while still exposing enough abdomen to be provocative. He shed his usual gloves in favor of armguards and feathers reminiscent of a magpie’s iridescent blue-green plumage were intertwined with short braids just in front of his ears.

A little makeup work smoothed down sharp angles and strong lines in his face; eyeliner, mascara, and kohl framed his eyes—glamoured to be mismatched shades of hazel—for a suitably intense look when paired with dark lipstick. And of course, a pendant was tucked into his shirt to change his voice so that he would not have to strain to maintain a higher timbre for the night—which without magic would be the one aspect of his person that was unlikely to pass muster while wearing a feminine guise.

“Evening,” the bartender greeted with a smile, tossing the rag he was using to dry newly-cleaned glasses over his shoulder. “What can I get ya?” He was an scrutinizing fellow, a Duskwight with a discerning eye. The sun had given his skin a little more color over the years than he would have had naturally, stealing enough of the grayness from his skin that were it not for the clan tattoos running up his arm and neck—etched into his skin with a blade, not a needle, and highlighted only in certain spots with white ink—he would pass for a Wildwood. His dark gaze settled on Leonnaux, his lips twisted in a smile that was—procedural, somewhat sarcastic even.

Leonnaux tapped a manicured nail on the counter as he hauled himself up and onto the bar stool. When he spoke, it was not with his own voice, but a more feminine one—albeit one on the sultry, low side, as he figured that that sort of voice would fit the character he created for the night the best. “Sazerac. On the rocks.”

His gaze rose to the bartender as he slid some gil coins forward to provide payment for the drink—and a tip, of course.

The bartender nodded and set about making the drink. It wasn’t done with as much finesse as Leonnaux would employ if he were the one on the other side of the bar, and the ingredients here were subpar—catered towards people who were more concerned about getting nice and drunk than people who wanted a high-class experience. That suited him fine, and he tried not to watch the bartender too closely as he muddled the sugar, the water, the bitters. The cognac, the whiskey—stirred, not shaken—then slid over to Leonnaux after a lemon peel was lazily tossed into the glass and left there.

Leonnaux let it sit for a moment before bringing the glass to his lips, leaving some dark plum-red lipstick on its rim once the glass was lowered back onto its coaster. It was good—for the components used. It was what he paid for, anyway; he knew that a place like this probably didn’t have the wherewithal to obtain the nice Ishgardian cognac, and he knew that it wasn’t really ‘in-character’ to complain.

So instead he mumbled a thanks, casting his gaze about the bar. A drunk Seeker whose arms and chest were almost completely covered in tattoos was about six shots in two stools to his left. The stool immediately to his right was vacated soon after he ordered his drink, a midlander woman with eyes like daggers and a scar running down over her right eye having apparently had her fill of listening to the men upstairs gamble their paychecks away.

“So… Friendly bunch,” he started, somewhat awkwardly as the midlander held his gaze until the heavy door had fallen shut in her wake and she was back out on Ul’dah’s streets.

“Friendly’s a word. Think most of our professions down here kinda exclude us from the category,” the bartender replied, setting the Seeker up with another shot even though he definitely did not seem conscious enough that that would be a good idea. The bartender’s voice carried with it a thick accent—caught somewhere between what he had grown up hearing in the depths of the Black Shroud and what might be expected of Coerthas natives.

“I… Don’t think I could have guessed,” Leonnaux replied, squinting a bit. For the disguise he’d gone without his glasses—it wasn’t really possible to navigate around them for every single disguise he wanted to try. Thankfully the low light of the bar didn’t impact his vision too much, and he only had to deal with distance-related issues. The bartender right in front of him was just barely out-of-focus, and the rest of the room? A blur. “Between the scars and the tattoos. You got word of the street?”

The bartender huffed a laugh. “Depends on what you’re lookin’ for, missy.”

“Call me that again and I’ll break your fingers.”

“Oh, oh, this one has spunk! I like it!” The huff turned to something heartier, this time the bartender laughing from deep within his chest, shoulders heaving. “Most interesting thing anyone’s said to me all godsdamned night. Well, then, what’s your angle?”

Leonnaux’s shoulders rose and fell in a half-hearted shrug. “Just new here, just lookin’ for some fun,” he replied, setting his sazerac down on the counter and retrieving a silver cigarette case from an interior pocket of his coat, along with a box of matches. He places a cigarette between his plum-colored lips before offering one to the bartender across from him. “Looks like you are, too?”

The bartender scoffs before taking a cigarette, producing a very different implement for lighting his cigarette—a well-crafted lighter, like the ones that Leonnaux had often seen crafted through the collaborative efforts of the Goldsmith’s Guild and the Alchemist’s Guild, a small fire shard producing a small flame once it was flipped open. He huffed a bit at the sight before striking a match and using that to light his cigarette. The match was blown out before being discarded in a nearby ashtray, overflowing with ashes and cigarette butts and similarly-discarded matches.

“You could say I’m looking for a little entertainment, yeah,” the bartender replied, “It’s all the same shite ‘round here.” He blew out a cloud of smoke to punctuate the statement, a sigh. “Fun’s dried up if that’s what you’re looking for, though. Jobs, though. Plenty of jobs. Jobs that you gotta be really fuckin’ down on your luck to consider takin’, though.”

Leonnaux couldn’t help a little bit of laughter at that. “Well, let’s say I’m down on my luck then. City’s not real easy to get started in, unless you’d rather give me tips than work. But I’d really prefer the work.”

“Not a whole lot for a pretty face like you to do besides hook on street corners.”

His eyebrow couldn’t help but twitch a little in response to that—a brief expression that didn’t go unnoticed, since the bartender burst out laughing in response.

“Oh, oh, lighten up. If you can’t take a joke then you ain’t gonna last five ticks out there.”

“Rest assured, you’re not the only one who’s lacked enough sense to tell me that. Lucky for you, though, you can make a decent drink. The other ones couldn’t.” He lifted his sazerac, then, removing his cigarette from his lips and blowing out the smoke to take a sip from the glass. “Guess you have a half-decent face too. Hate to ruin it.”

“Well, color me honored.” The bartender ashed his cigarette, poured the Miqo’te gent another shot—absinthe this time, Leon realized, and though now he was wondering if the bartender was just steadily making his way up the ladder in terms of alcohol strength, he couldn’t help but think the man two stools down might need to stop if he didn’t want to end up worse than passed out in a ditch. “Laraunt, by the way. So, if you’re looking for work… Well, got some postings over in the back. But if I’m being frank, there’s been some shite going on that I’d love for someone to look into. What’s your trade, missy?”

“Call me Reine,” he corrected. “I’m serious about your fingers.”

“Sure, sure, right, right. Anyway, what’s it you do?”

Leonnaux clicked his tongue, considering for a moment, lowering his gaze to the lemon peel floating in his drink. “… This and that. Anything for the right price. Ran some drugs when I was up in Gridania—sonmus, snow, you know, that shite. Prefer to work more discreetly where I can, though—stuff what won’t give folks a paper trail to look for… Information, a favorite.”

His gaze returned to Laraunt , then, watching him carefully for any sign that he wasn’t convinced—pinning his preferred trade as information was a risk, but it was the only risk he could feasibly take. He couldn’t offer any answer that would be easy to verify; he couldn’t describe in-depth what it was like to work a job that he had no experience with whatosever, not even by proxy. To say nothing of if Laraunt decided to cross-check him, or press for more details than he had.

Laraunt considered for a moment before offering Leonnaux a half-shrug. “Information’s honest enough trade, I guess. You just a broker, or do you do groundwork?”

“Depends on my mood…” Leonnaux trailed off, then, somewhat uncertain before he nodded to Laraunt’s tattoos: raised scars and white ink against his dark skin, etching intricate runes and designs and occultic symbols into his exposed forearm and extending up his sleeve to his neck. The designs themselves were, of course, pleasing to the eye—but the runes were chiefly Duskwight in usage, sigils of power similar to the ones etched into pomanders. “But you could say I’ve always to ears out, eh?”

The bartender arched a brow, then, before nodding his assent. “Ah, more than just a pretty face, then! Seems you have some keen eyes, too. Well… Well, I suppose you’ll do, Reine. If you think you can get the job done. I’ve been through a few brokers, kind of need a dedicated investigator if I’m being honest. They all chickened out once they got a handle for the situation.”

Leonnaux perked up a bit, folding his hands in front of him on the table and ashing his cigarette. He looked the bartender over, but without his glasses his eye for detail was somewhat limited, even this close. “Well, running drugs up to the Shroud ain’t exactly a cushy fucking job, as long as no one’s gonna try and drain my body of its blood I think I can stomach getting my hands a little dirty.” He scoffed, then, as if it was a joke. “So what is it. I can’t say for sure unless you tell me what the job is.”

Laraunt met Leonnaux’s eyes, then, his lips pressing into a thin line. “My sister’s missing.”

Oh—oh.

Leonnaux had to fight off the shock when the bartender’s voice suddenly becoming quite grave, going from somewhat condescending and sarcastic to a sobering baritone is no time flat. He took a breath, considering those three words as he drew his cigarette back to his lips, puffing away quietly.

“If it’s a missing person case, I think you’re gonna want the Blades instead.”

“Not considering what all my sister was getting up to before she went and vanished.” Laraunt tapped a fingertip—hard—on the surface of the counter, pulling Leonnaux’s attention back up to his eyes. “This ain’t the best place to give details though—or time. How can I get in touch with you after this? Sit down for a more proper talk. Client to broker.”

Leonnaux paused, offering a shrug. “I’m new here. You think I already have an office? Just pick a day pick a time and—I’ll meet you out back. After a shift, maybe. So we won’t be interrupted.” He tilted his chin up, then, before he snuffed the cigarette out, grinding it in the ashtray and leaving it there in a crumpled heap. With a grimace, he slammed back the rest of his sazerac in one go, chewing on the lemon rind left behind once the glass was emptied.

“Ah, eh… Should be free at the end of the week.”

“Cool. I’ll see you then—see if I can’t turn up any leads on a missin’ Duskwight in Ul’dah in the meantime.”

“I’d appreciate it.” There’s a pause and Laraunt takes a breath, watching Leonnaux as he starts to leave. “Hey, say—this is bugging me, but have I seen you before?”

Leonnaux’s heart skipped a beat, and he paused mid-step to look over his shoulder, one hand against the heavy wooden door, poised to make his way out.

“I don’t know. Have you?”

––to be continued.

#crystal data center #ffxiv rp #balmung rp #crystal rp #ffxiv balmung #ffxiv crystal #hellsbovnd #( c: leonnaux; )#( writing; )#[ i keep saying leon is cis/gender nonconforming but honestly w how i write him he might actually just b straight up genderfluid ]#[ i just dont want transphobes crawling into my mentions to call me gamer words so i'm gonna keep him as cis on paper lol ]#[ no harm in having little a noncanon headcanons about my own character.... as a treat ]

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thegingertrekkie · 5 years ago

Text

Lost in a Dream World

Part 8: past the kingdom walls

You quickly found that this Shoji was exactly like your world's Shoji, kind but extremely quiet. You gave up on small talk about 10 minutes into your long walk and there was an uncomfortable silence ever since. The Edgelands was composed entirely of jagged lava rocks, the ground was always rumbling, and it was terribly hot. Shoji was right, it was hell. Every once and awhile there was a huge gust of wind from nowhere and Shoji would order you to hid under him. He'd wrap his arms around you like a protective shield and get close to the ground. The ground was so hot it burned your exposed skin, but Shoji held you down until the wind subsided.

"This is land of dragons" he explained after the third time "We're trespassing and they know we're here"

'Dragons?' You felt scared and giddy at the same time. This world was unbelievable, no one at home would take you seriously when you told then there were dragons here. You frowned thinking about home. Shoji decided it was time to take a rest and you passively agreed, grabbing one of the heavier packs Todoroki had given Shoji and opening it. You blinked as you looked down at the pile of gold inside the bag, lifting a piece to inspect more closely. "This is what we've been carrying? What the hell?"

One of Shoji's hands slapped over his mouth and he shushed you harshly. "Too loud (Y/n)! Put that away it's dangerous!"

The wind started up again stronger than before and you yelped as Shoji threw you into his back and started running. You turned and saw a huge silver dragon flying after you. A scream escaped your lips and a hand was slapped over your mouth again. "This isn't the time!" Shoji hissed, lunging to the side as blue flames scorched the land you had just been standing on. 'I'm gonna die' you thought, looking back at the dragon with wide terrified eyes. "Throw something at it!" Shoji commanded and you threw the gold bar that was still in your hand.

Surprisingly the dragon hesitated at the sight of the shiny metal. You let out a cautious breath and Shoji slowed his pace to a jog. You continued in silence and Shoji set you down after a while. The two of you walked side by side when the path was wide enough. The heat was making you dizzy and your body was drenched in sweat. Was it getting hotter? You glanced up and see a shadow scaling the rock face above you, too small to be a dragon. It looks like a person. You nudge Shoji "I think there's a person."

Shoji tenses and uses his extra arms to scan the jagged rock face. Your daggers are pushed in your hands and you both slow your pace. "Don't be fooled" he hisses at you "Some dragons can shape shift."

You swallow loudly and push forward with caution, trying your best not to hyperventilate. It was so hot, you felt like you were melting. The sun was going down in the sky, but the air didn't get any cooler. Shoji notices you struggling and slows down so you can rest.

"We're almost at the edge" Shoji stated taking your bag from you and handing you a canteen. You stare at your feet, chewing your bottom lip uncomfortably. You missed Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida. You wished they were here to talk to you. It wouldn't be so awkward if Shoji would just talk to you.

"Can you tell me about this world?" You said after a long drink of warm water.

Shoji paused for so long you thought he was going to ignore your question. "I guess I'll start from the beginning..."

Shoji explained how in the beginnging both kingdoms were united as one. Then suddenly the dragons appeared and brought magic with them. The magic attracted dangerous creatures like the goblins and society started to crumble. Some humans were able to harness the power of the magic, other were transformed into different creatures when they came into contact with a vein of magic (like Shoji had, you wondered what he looked like before). There was a great war between magic users and non magic users and the Edgelands was the battle field. The war stretched on for years until the dragons stepped in, making the Edgelands their home and not allowing the warring sides to cross over.

"There's been peace after that" Shoji finished he leaned against a large boulder and sighed. " the merchant's path is the only place magic and non magic users can mix, but they don't let you cross. There's a barrier. Here's the only weak spot."

He used three hands to gesture ahead. There was a huge ravine with floating boulders in between. You got as close to the edge as you dared and looked over the side, you couldn't see the bottom. Your stomach churned. You glanced back at Shoji and saw he was starting to head back the way you came. "Whoa, wait a minute!" You rushed after him and grabbed his shirt. "I thought you were supposed to take me to the other kingdom!"

"This is as far as I go" he responded, patting your head and making you blush. "The Kingdom of magic is on the other side of the ravine."

You felt sick to your stomach. Shoji pull away from you and disappeared into the edgelands. You looked over the edge of the ravine again and then at the rocks floating above. There were several layers of boulders, if you fell off one you might get lucky and land on another. You weren't sure what to do. You opened your pack to grab some food and groaned, face palming as you looked at the mound of gold. You couldn't eat gold and without Shoji you couldn't find your way back to the Todoroki kingdom.

"Heeeeeyyyy!" A voice called from the other side of the ravine.

You looked up surprised searching for the source of the voice.

"Over here! What are you doing over there?" A pink skinned girl yelled, waving her arms over her head.

"I'm stuck!" You call back "Can you help me?"

The girl laughs and makes her way over to you, jumping effortlessly from boulder to boulder. It takes her only a few minutes to reach you. "Come on!" Mina smiles "I have someone waiting for me so we have to hurry! Plus it's not safe outside the barrier."

She holds your hand as she leads you over the dangerous ravine. The floating boulders are much more stable than you thought they would be and closer together. Mina chartered the whole way across, a nice change of pace from the awkward silences you experienced before. You try to explain your situation to her, but she just laughs. Your phone had been dead for hours, so you didn't have any proof this time. It didn't seem to matter much to Mina, she seemed glad to help out anyway. Even when you made it to the other side of the ravine Mine held your hand tightly. She lead you towards the towering walls of the kingdom chatting away.

Once inside the walls you audibly gasped. The city was full of people and overlooked the ocean, completely different from the forest you had been in days before. Mina pulled you through the crowd, weaving through people at a fast pace. She lead you through the market square where booths were selling all sorts of strange objects, animals, and... People. You made eye contact with a young boy and guilt bubbled up in your throat. The pink skinned girl didn't stop, she pulled you into a back street and knocked on a wall. You jumped when a hand reach through and pulled you through.

"Mina you can't keep doing this! You're going to get caught!"

"Kaminari?" You ask reaching you hands out in the dark.

A candle was lit and revealed blonde boy with a black lighting bolt marked in his hair. His eyes were wide with surprise and Mina giggled. "They says they're from a different world with copies of us in it!" She squealed, running around the room to light more candles "I wasn't going to bring anymore non magic users but this one is different!"

"No kidding..." Kaminari mumbled, looking you up and down "they're wearing other kingdom clothes, they're gonna get caught!"

"It's fiiiine! I'll take them shopping!" Mina was so happy running around the small room.

You reached over to touch Kaminari's arm and yelped when you got shocked. Kaminari blushed and put his hands up "Sorry! I got hit with lightning near a magic vein and now I shock everything I touch."

Your eyes were wide with surprise and you had an idea. Digging around the bag Midoriya had bought you, you fished out your phone and a charging cable. You plug one end into your crack phone and thrust the other end towards the confused boy. "Put this in your mouth."

Kaminari's mouth drops open and Mina starts laughing again. "What?? No! Why?" He takes a step away from you.

"I need to charge my phone! Please, Kaminari! You do this all the time where I'm from!" You have him backed against a wall and he puts his hands over his mouth, shaking his head no.

"What is that?" Mina points at your phone "it looks busted"

"It's a... It's a tiny magic mirror, but it'll only work if it's charged. Kaminari, please!"

"You're gonna suck the magic out of me with that?" Kaminari clasps his chest dramatically and looks at you with a horrified expression.

"What? No! Ugh, just come on!"

"I wanna see it work!" Mina exclaimed grabbing the end of the charging cord and forcing it into Kaminari's mouth.

He gags at the metallic taste and glares at Mina right before the charging notifications goes off with a little "ping". The two gasp and look at your phone mesmerized at the little noise it made. As soon as it had enough power you switched it on. Smiling at the two amazed expressions before you. You pulled up the pictures you had with Mina and Kaminari. "Tiny magic mirror" Mina breathed one hand over her mouth, other outstretched towards your phone.

You snorted and laughed, handing the phone to them so they could scroll through your pictures.

You find a chair to sit in and your legs basically give out, you didn't realize how tired you were. Leaning you head against the wall you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, comforted my the familiar sounds of you friends laughing and joking with one another.

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plumeofacat · 4 years ago

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Chapter 2

Into the fire, the young red hair woman stand on her hands and knees above a scared child mosnter that froze on the ground. Lanna look at the kid who is a humanoid wolf of 6 years old, then she close her eyes full of pain tears. Luckily for her, the fall of the beams created a safe exit trough the broken window.

Lanna: Kiddo... Are your parents here?

Kid : No... They left to find food this morning...

Lanna : ok... Go out by the window and go gat some help... Tell the monsters that the threats left.

The child nod and run on his four paws outside. Relieved of the fear of killing someone, Lanna weakens, restraining herself from falling as much as she can. Yet another scream of pain escape from her lips as she can't lift the beam. She ends up tackled by the burning beam and the heat rise to her head until she loose consciousness.

Outside, the kid smelling smoke run between fir trees, calling for help, until he fell in pasty that is own by Muffet, a monster-spider addicted to money. He ask for help, but he only get a glass of water and some pat on the back. The young wolf doesn't hesitate to say to the spider that no one is threatening the city and that allow the chief to call all of her spider so they can inform everyone.

Relieved, he then ask if they can save the human stuck in his house. No one really want to, since the cub didn't specified that this human is different and since he tay vague on the identity of his savior. After all, he didn't really see much and the shock don't help him to remember any details. Despise everything, he insist until he say that her eyes change color and looked into his soul. This information, that came back at the same time as he said it, earned him black gazes and the order to shut up.

A portail appear just in front of the house taht is collopasing on the creator's sister. Besides, the brother cross the portal with Error and he sees the beams falling, not knowing immediately who is inside. The blackbone that glitch wear black redingote coat, like what wear a corsaire, which the ledges are gloden and whose sleeves are lengthened by clearly sewn fabrics and his black shorts are lengthened to in the same way, showing that his legs are, in fact, red. At his feet, the black sandals showed his red feet, contrasting with his red t-shirt. A night blue long scarf came decorate his neck.

He start to look everywhere, looking for a red tuft, or at least a white mask, but in a fire it's hard to spot a precice red taint. the effect is the same for the mask that blend into the snow, evevn if he find it... at least, he walk on the pieces that Loucas left behind him. Ink take a good five seconds to understand on what he is walking, wwhile his opposite walk toward the burning house, curious.

Error: ̷L̷a̷n̷n̷a̷ ?

A distant moan is audible through the flame, but only by the magically sensible hearing of a skeleton. That's what get the duo's attention, but the flames activated Ink's overprotective worrying to the point that he jump into what's beggening to be ruins while yelling his sister's name. Luckily for the artist's life, the one who seems to ust have jump of an oven use his strings to catch his opponent. He then use his other hand to lauch strings on the structure on the young women, ignoring panicked complained from his prisoner. However, he can't get Lanna out, since five of his strings are busy at restraining the unconscious' brother.

Error: ̷I̷n̷k̷,̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷y̷o̷u̷ ̷w̷a̷n̷t̷ ̷m̷e̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷b̷e̷ ̷a̷b̷l̷e̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷g̷e̷t̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷o̷u̷t̷,̷ ̷c̷a̷l̷m̷ ̷d̷o̷w̷n̷!̷ ̷

The bugged voice seems to calm the white skeleton, despite the fact that he lost his pupils and doesn't react at all. However, Error doesn't care about it and focus only on the one he have to save. He shake, raising the beams isn't being easy, while he use his strings on the inhured one to pull her withouth cares.

Ink: E-Error... Avoid hurting her more...

Error: ̷c̷o̷n̷s̷i̷d̷e̷r̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷s̷t̷a̷t̷e̷,̷ ̷I̷ ̷d̷o̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷i̷n̷k̷ ̷I̷ ̷c̷a̷n̷ ̷d̷o̷ ̷w̷o̷r̷s̷e̷.̷

Like a lifeless puppet, the body Honging on the ground to be release in the same time as the burned structured. A crash is heard while ink hurry to his sister's side, clearing her face. Few seconds after, Error sit on the other side of the incouscious.

Error: ̷H̷e̷y̷,̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷a̷r̷t̷i̷s̷t̷!̷ ̷M̷a̷k̷e̷ ̷a̷ ̷p̷o̷r̷t̷a̷l̷ ̷s̷o̷ ̷w̷e̷ ̷c̷a̷n̷ ̷g̷o̷ ̷b̷a̷c̷k̷,̷ ̷s̷o̷ ̷I̷ ̷c̷a̷n̷ ̷c̷o̷l̷l̷a̷p̷s̷e̷ ̷a̷f̷t̷e̷r̷ ̷h̷e̷a̷l̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷.̷

Ink: hmm? ... Ok...

Almost lifeless, the tattooed skeleton takes his geant brush, then he draws a circle with the ink that is magically on it. Error takes advantage of the opening to nonchalantly lift Lanna by an arm, while the brother helps to move her on the couch, before closing the portal. Taking advantage of the house owner's turn back, the guest does what he calls a ''sleight of hand'' to accelerate the natural regeneration of the humans and the magical one of the monsters that lay in the red DNA.

As soon as Ink turns again, he sees his opposite unconscious on the ground and his sister emits a light that changes color every second and gets brighter and brighter. Wanting to leave Error sleep on something more comfortable than the ground and to not wake him up, the creator uses his telekinesis power to put him on his bed. However, since he needed to go upstairs and go at the end of the allway to reach his bedroom, the only awake one doesn't notice that the unconscious woman is floating above the couch, getting slowly higher as the light she emits could blind anyone.

And indeed, the front door opens, making the guests growl. They are the two that met Lanna the same morning. With a sigh, Viper let Blue come in with his sunglasses on. To avoid walking with his eyes closed, the one from Swapfell put on sunglasses to, before growling again.

Viper: That doesn't do shit!

Blue: Normally it works, but not when there is a sun in Ink's living room...

Viper: By the way, how did they manage to have a solar star in there house? Lanna summoned it or is it Ink?

Blue: Sooooooooo coooooooll! They made a sun!

Ink: What the...? ... LANNA!!

In the same time as Ink yells his sister's name, the skeleton's steps bring him in the room, then, a brochestroke later, an ink bubble surrounds the young woman, lessening the light, like she is a dark lamp. The two self-proclaimed guests take off their sunglasses, staring at the bubble with surprise, while the creator stares at the two other skeletons awake, his arms crossing on his chest.

Ink: What are you doing here? I already have two unconscious to handle, I don't wanna handle a duo that is unconscious in another way....

Viper: Hey, painter! Calm down! We came to see how Lanna had taken the cart's hit!

Blue: And apologizing again...

Ink: *sigh* sorry... Lanna had to fight a new threat and... by my fault, Error had to heal her...

Blue: I thought that healing magic doesn't work on her?

Viper: what? It doesn't work?

Ink: It's not the same... Error only did his sleight of hand.

Blue: I see... Will she be okay?

Ink: With two or three magic paint bottles when she wakes up, she will...

Viper: Why am I always the last one to know these things while she talks to me as much as to anybody?

Ink: hmm? She didn't tell you anything?

Viper: at all and it starts to piss me off...

Blue: I was sure that you were like that with her because you knew

Viper: of course not!

Ink: So, why are you in the category of people that aren't touched by her curse and that worry for her?

Viper: She seems to always be about to collapse, so yea, I have a tendency to worry for her, but I don't see why I shouldn't...

Blue: Ok... You need a Lanna class...

Ink: Let's make it while Lanna and Error are asleep.

Viper: Why?

Ink : These two refuse to let anyone talk about it. Lanna is only embarrassed when people learn how she is... different and Error hates when I precise that, without him, no one would have known Lanna.

Blue: Last time I tried to explain to my brother why she has to keep her distance with him, Lanna knocked him off with a mass that got magically out of nowhere...

Viper: ... Start with the beginning, please.

Ink sigh and offer a drink before, drink that Blue accepts immediately with a smile and that Viper accept, not without growling and sighing. Quickly, the host comes back with three cup of hot water with three tea pockets. Blue complains a second that he has to drink a ''grand-mother drink'' while Viper smiles, relieved to drink his favorite drink.

Ink: Lanna loves them and she forced me to understand to not give you any coffee.

Viper: When I take coffee, it's for work...

Blue: Grandma's

Viper: ... So, can I get the explanations now? I have the sudden impression of not knowing who this girl is and it pisses me off, since she knows me!

Ink: ok ok... We have to go pretty far away to understand her curse... When Lanna was 2, her father threw her into Ebbot Mountain in the classic universe...

Viper : Throw? Like a trash?

Blue: *angry* more like WITH the trash...

For a few seconds, Viper froze while drinking his tea while thinking. In every alternative universe violent or scary that he knows, the monsters don't hesitate to kill anyone... as long as it's not a child... And he never heard of a human corpse in the trash pile in the Ebbot Mountain.

Ink: Luckily for her, I was there to... Think about Error... *take a sup of his coffee*

Viper: About your feelings for him?

Ink: *blush and choke on his sip* N-NO!! about a way to reduce our fights because I was tired!... *cough while getting cooler* ANYWAY! Lanna was screaming as she fell, so I couldn't miss her... I caught her and brought her back to my home to understand what happened.

Viper: You didn't know it was her father?

Ink: I was lost in my thoughts at the moment I could have seen him... Lanna told me in a drawing that day...

Viper: she already knew how to draw this good?

Ink: ...No, I had all difficulties in the world to understand that, it's Error who understood immediately... He came to see what I was doing and probably caused trouble, but he got fascinated by the drawing that was occupying my mind... At the point that I didn't see that Lanna was drinking my magic paint.

Blue: I'm still thinking that you were irresponsible that day...

Ink: Hey ho! It's been 19 years!

Viper: And... How is it possible that she is still alive?

Ink: Because of Error... He did what he calls a sleight of hand that I never have the right to see... However, I understood that it sewed human DNA and magic particles together, making her alive through magic.

Viper: That only explains her powers...

Ink: False, it explains almost everything. By getting back to life like this, Lanna got her eyes and her powers. Though, with her eyes, a curse came to... We don't know how she got to understand that faster than us and explain it, but, in short, everyone that has a problem with monsters, humans or the mix of them hate her without any reason. They even want to kill her as soon as they see her eyes.

Viper: that was what happened in the supermarket?

Blue: Yea.

Ink: Wait..something happened there?

Blue: Hum... Nothing important! And crisis avoided, that's all...

Ink: *suspicious gaze to Blue* hmm...

Viper: So, her eyes create that hate against her... But why not just wearing sunglasses? Why the mask?

Ink: because the light that her eyes create when she has strong emotions activate the curse like she doesn't wear anything. The mask block better the effect, by experience.

Viper: ok... and that light? And that thing that if we understand who she is, it doesn't affect us?

Ink: To be exact, the one that are normally affected by the curse aren't the type who would want to understand her, so it's impossible to explain to them if they already saw Lanna's eyes. Mostly when we already saw them, if we don't understand why we hate her, then... We hate her. The mask only reduces the ''want to kill'' at ''want to destroy her reputation'' and everything around.

Viper: ouch...

Ink: Yea... We don't really know why, but the one who knows that her eyes have a curse that provokes hatred does not hate her after knowing it... Or, like Swapy, they naturally hate her, not because of her magic.

Viper: I think I finally fully understand the story... But... And this attempt to replace the sun?

Viper points the bubble while drinking another sip of his tea, while the two others instinctively look at the sleeping Lanna inside this security globe. The light reduced intensity since the beginning of their discussion and the body levitated a little less, without regaining its original position.

Ink: That... It's when Error sews Lanna... To sew back the two parts of herself. Each time, her powers explode and the effect differs depending on the severity of her injuries, but each time, I have to put her in a bubble or she gets out by a window...

Viper: It happened before?

Ink: *sigh* When she was two... Her telekinesis powers are out of control in these situations.

Blue: She has telekinesis power?

Ink: Ha, it's right that you hardly see her using them... It exhausts her magically so quickly that she uses them only when she has a magic paint bottle with her...

Viper: Bordel... This girl is darker than I would have thought...

Ink: Believe me, you miss a big part of her dark past... but it'S not my job to tell you...

The trio fell in embarrassed and thoughtful silence. The only thing that breaks it is the sound of the cups that get empty loudly. Blue and VIper think about what they learned. As weird as it sounds, the first one seemed more shocked than the one who didn't know a thing before. As for the artist, he looks at his sister with worry, sighing, relieved to see the body floating in a more easy to handle high.

Luckily for the unease, the guests' brothers get in with worry. Swapfell Papyrus, AKA Pup when he is in a good mood or Rex when he is in a bad mood, is the more ''damaged''version of Swapy. The only difference with Swapy that isn't the clothes is his scar, similar to his brother's, that starts above his left eye to finish under it. He wears a simple orange jacket with a hood that the ledge is composed of fur. At his neck, an orange ''dog collar'' with thorns comes, breaking his pure image that brings his white shirt under his jacket. To cover his legs he has simple jeans short and for his feet he has shoes that are decorated with flames.

Pup: SANS!

Viper: hmm? Ho! Pup! You're here!

Swapy: Sans! I was searching for you everywhere! What are you doing in the witch house6

Blue: I came to take news about Lanna!

While the Papyruses hold their brothers, the one that hates the injured one looks at the floating body with a frown. However, Since he sees Ink's relieved expression, the tall one doesn't say anything. Viper takes advantage of the moment to explain that Lanna is in a bad state and that they won't be able to talk to her for a moment.

Pup: What? What happened? She's hurt?

Ink: I don't know what happened... I found her under a beam in a house on fire and I left her before in Horrortale's roads...

Swapy: Are you serious? You left her alone in Horrotale? Axe scared everyone, I don't want to imagine the whole universe!

Ink: The universe was under an attack from a new enemy, I needed to get Error, since that ''Loucas'' was only after Lanna...

Blue: *look at Lanna* He was after her?

Swapy: And you left her alone with this guy? She can't even crush a clover on the ground!

Ink: She's stronger than you could ever imagine, Swapy... I trusted her for the time I needed to convince Error to come and help... I didn't think that the guy with fire swords would trap her in a house since she was in the snow!

Viper: Wait, the house she was in... was it in fire before you left?

Ink: *think* Now that you say it... no...

Pup: Weird...

As a thinkful silence settles down, no one notices that the bubble suddenly pops and makes the body hit the ground, waking up the red one. What makes them know that is the painful moan that escapes her lips while she gets up weekly, trying to understand why so many people are in her living room. However, she doesn't have the time to say any words that Swapy's jacket gets on her shoulder. Without trying to understand that her clothes burned earlier, so she is uncovered, the human hands close the jacket that ends up in the middle of her thighs.

Lanna: heu... what is going on?

Ink: Are you serious?! It's rather to me to ask that!

Lanna: first, I'm not serious, I'm Lanna and second... I wake up, suddenly surrounded by Viper, Blue, Pup, Swapy and you and... *shut her eyes close* Where is my mask Inky?!?!

Ink:: Heum...

Lanna: QUICK!! Before Swapy tries to kill me like the others!!!! I managed to hide my eyes from him, Fucking fuck of shitty shit!!!

Ink: Lanna, your mask was in a thousand pieces in the snow and full of blood in Horrortale...

Lanna: ... Shit...

Swapy: You know that my hate isn't because of your eye, but because of your character of a...

Lanna: You're an ass who doesn't care to know who I am, so shut up!

Not used to hear her answering like that, Underswap Papyrus freeze while frowning and crossing his arms. Ink sighs, then asks his sister to try if it's really her curse, to open her eyes. However, forcing the red hair to do something that she doesn't want to is harder than it seems at first, because even with the ''we are several, we can protect you'' argument, she shut her eyes with more strength.

Luckily for the test, Swapy decided to let his usual anger keep against her doing the job. I caught the human by an arm and forced her to turn her face towards him. Keeping his cigarettes behind him with his telekinesis powers, Swapy sighs.

Swapy: If you don't open your eyes, I'll do something that will make you...

Lanna: Like what? Breaking my legs?

Swapy: Like I want to break you even more, you doing a great job alone... No... Worse... What would disgust you the most...

Lanna: Hein? ... That you tied me up in a striptease bar?

Swapy: You do that on purpose?

Lanna: Since you already disgust me, I don't see what could be...

In annoyed growl, Swap Papyrus put his teeths on Lanna's lips while closing his eye sockets of disgust, before opening one to look in the changing eyes. Three seconds doesn't pass when the skeleton surprises himself by letting his hand that holded her face slip along her jaws to finish on her neck, taking all his strength to not strangle her, despite that his fingers tighten up slowly. The others around freeze out of surprise, not noticing that victime shakes and tries to fight back. She pulls on her detained arm. She uses the free one to push vainly Swapy. She tries to unstick her lips to the teeths. She tries to call for help.

However, nothing happened.

What saves Lanna is that she kicks where, normally, men don't like to be touch in a non-sexual situation. Immediately, he seems to get back to reality, since he let her go and step back, restraining himself to put his hands on the sensible place. The physical separation if the two ennemies unfreeze the rest of the room, while Lanna give a dark gaze at her brother.

Lanna: I need bleach... And I think that this bee's pee drinker to....

Blue: Ok" *run to the bathroom*

Lanna: How does he know where the bleach is?!

Viper: When you all work, he clean your house...

Lanna: but... Why?

Ink: I asked him... The first time it was so he could make up the fact that he made our kitchen explode and since then... He continues...

Lanna freeze while blinking a lot, lost. She doesn't try to understand that she looks at Swapy in the corner of her eyes, followed by a sigh that brings her iris to her feet. She pats her throat while shaking, some pictures coming back in her memory.

Viper: Lanna? Is everything ok?

Lanna: Hu? heum... Yea yea... I just need to find a way to hide my eyes back... Can you make an other mask for me, Inky? you're better than me in drawing...

Ink: You'll be able to handle a week without it?

Lanna: I'll take sunglasses... It's better than nothing

Viper: If you have strong emotions, it's not working , isn't it?

Lanna: As long as I don'T have any strong emotion that make my eyes shine...

Viper: Why not walking withouth anything on your face?

Lanna: Don't wanna get killed... again.

Summary : https://plumeofacat.tumblr.com/post/644284784841031680/summary

Next : https://plumeofacat.tumblr.com/post/646722466619736064/chapter-3

#Ink'sis #Ev #ErrorSans #InkSans #Lannapainted

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lillianfromaccounting · 7 years ago

Text

Forging New Friendships

Thank you to the wonderful @not-worms for being so patient while working with me. This is my submission to the @samwilsonbirthdaybang (thank you for having me!) Also, thanks to the awesome @katiekeysburg for beta-ing (any mistakes left are mine).

words by: @lillianfromaccounting | lillianfromaccounting on AO3 art by: @not-worms ships: Sam Wilson x Maria Hill fic rating: T art rating: G warnings: mentions of Riley’s death characters: Sam, Nat, Steve, Maria, Winter Soldier, Nick Fury tags: medieval au word count: 5136

Link to AO3

Sam emerged from the lake, beads of iridescent water rolling off him. Judging by the position of the sun, it was almost time for him to report to the foundry. He should have gotten out two laps ago, but this morning, a man Sam had never met before spurred him on with a race. There were no witnesses and no prize to be had, but Sam’s pride was on the line.

“On ye left,” the man would call out every time he swam past. Sam usually paid no mind to bravado types, but there was something about this man that was different. For starters, he swam very fast--faster than any man probably should.

Could this man possess some sort of magical power? Sam knew that Iron-man and his team they call the Avengers were all up north, but it wouldn’t be surprising if they were now in the capitol where Sam lived. He had only heard tales of one man in the kingdom with similar physical prowess--the one who wore the stars and stripes, Captain America.

Sam dropped to the grass, rolling onto his back, chest heaving with every inhale of air. His muscles were on fire from the inside and his heart was about to leap out of his ribs. The other guy walked up to him, hands on his hips. His features matched the description of the famed blessed knight.

“Need a medic?“ the man asked, draping a lush cloak over himself.

“I need a new body,” Sam chuckled, catching his breath. “Do you always swim a day’s ride before breakfast?”

“Guess I had a late start.” Steve smirked.

“Really? You should be ashamed of yourself,” Sam teased. “You should take another lap. Did you take it? I assume you just took it.” Sam slid his arms through the sleeves of a cotton garment.

“What unit you in?” Steve asked, pointing to the insignia on Sam’s vest.

“Fifty-eighth, air rescue. But now I work at the forge,” Sam replied, offering his hand. “Sam Wilson.”

“Steve Rogers.” Steve shook Sam’s hand.

He was just as humble as everyone said, Sam thought. Most men of his stature would lead with their title, sir this or archduke that. Captain wasn’t a title to sneeze at, yet Steve chose to leave it out. It was almost like he didn’t want to be associated with it, at least not in this interaction.

“I kinda put that together,” Sam replied.

The legend of Captain America was that he was born a runt of a boy. During the Second Great War, the king asked Merlin to devise a magical potion to transform his men into talented knights. The potion was only tested on one Steven Grant Rogers who hailed from the king’s own fief, and it bestowed upon him unbelievable grace. He proved to be a great asset in taking down the enemy, whom Steve supposedly punched hundreds of times. As a final act to win the war and to conquer evil, he sacrificed himself by taking the enchanted Tesseract crystal into the northern glaciers, never to be heard of again. Seventy years later, a scouting expedition for resources up north discovered the Captain in a deep sleep on a bed of ice, hidden away in a high tower. The great wizard Tony Stark and his team were able to successfully wake him again.

Grasping for any way to continue this conversation, Sam blurted, “Must have driven you near to madness, to return after the whole defrosting thing.”

Sam noticed Steve’s posture stiffen just slightly before smiling. “It takes some getting used to. It’s good to meet you Sam.” Steve turned towards the woods.

Stupid, Sam thought to himself. He obviously did not want to talk about it. Sam wasn’t sure why, but he desperately wanted Steve to accept him.

“It’s the--” a horn went off in the distance, cutting Sam off.

“Alright Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the swim, if that’s what you wanna call swimming,” Steve smirked.

“Oh, is that how it is?” Sam retorted, holding back a laugh. He felt lighter at Steve’s jesting. Maybe there was hope for this friendship after all.

“That’s how it is,” Steve said, turning towards the path.

“Anytime you wanna stop by the forge and make me look admirable in front of the girl selling flowers by the gate, just let me know,” Sam said.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Steve said.

As if by apparition, a figure dressed in all black rode up on a white steed, the reins of a second horse in her hands. Her hood concealed her face but Sam saw red curls spilling out the edges. The maiden lowered her cloak and looked directly at Sam. Most people couldn’t hold a gaze for too long and need to look away, but she didn't back down. The longer Sam stared, the more determined she seemed to stare back. The horses remained eerily still at this encounter.

“Hey,” Sam finally greeted.

“Do any of you know where the catacombs are? I’m here to fetch a relic,” she smirked.

“Very funny. Ride’s here,” Steve said. “I’ll see you around, Sam.”

The lady tossed Steve the reins and he mounted the horse before nudging it into a trot.

Sam worked his hammer on the forge and steel in a steady rhythm. He had been working on this sword for a few weeks. It would earn him a pretty penny, but provided enough time during reheating that Sam was able to also work on his pet project.

Sam didn’t give the Captain much more thought as he toiled away at the forge. Actually, meeting Steve brought back a lot of memories Sam had pushed away—memories of being in the battlefield, memories of Riley. Sam thought that he had successfully put that to his past, but he was clearly wrong. The past two years, Sam worked really hard on building something meaningful. There were other soldiers like him, lost after coming back from war. They attempted to pick up old skills, going back to their bakeries and fields, markets and books. It took some time, but the habits of old came back to them. Sam forged them knives and hoes and blades for plows. He thought that he was adjusting back too, until Steve came into his life.

He absentmindedly struck the same spot over and over again. Riley would have given him hell for the way this piece was shaping up. Riley always challenged Sam to do better--to be a better soldier, a better person. Sam raised his arm and dropped the hammer down on the sword with all his might, breaking a piece off the tip. The broken metal bounced onto the ground, emitting tiny dings as it fell away from Sam.

“That’s pretty intense,” a familiar voice broke Sam’s focus.

Sam turned to see Steve leaning against the wall behind him.

“Look who it is,” Sam said, sliding the sword back into the flames of the forge

“Does it help? Hitting metal?” Steve asked, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret.”

“You lose someone?” Steve pressed.

“My second in command, Riley. Standard practice run, nothing we hadn’t done a thousand times before. Til a dragon’s flame knocked him out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It was like I was up there just to watch,” Sam sighed. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head, staring past the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said.

“After that, I had a really hard time staying in the force.” Sam looked up and caught Steve’s gaze.

“You happy now? Back in the world?” Steve asked.

Sam heard the glimmer of hope in Steve’s voice. It wasn’t that Sam was unhappy, but he wouldn’t say that he was happy, per se. He was living, one day at a time. Some days were easier to get by, and some days he felt like Atlas, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He knew what Steve wanted to hear, but at the same time, Sam didn’t want to lie to him.

“Hey, the number of people giving me orders is down to about zero. So hell yeah,” Sam flashed a toothy grin. It wasn’t entirely a lie. “You thinking about getting out?”

“No, I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I did,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Gladiator sport,” Sam replied, eliciting a laugh from Steve. “Seriously, you can do whatever you wanna do. What makes you happy?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, turning his gaze to the ground.

“How bout this,” Sam said, “meet me at the Sozzled Owl at sundown. We’ll talk about your prospects over a few brews.”

“And then I told him, ‘How could I? You’re taking all the stupid with you’,” Steve laughed, fiddling with the mug in front of him.

“You really are a scoundrel,” Sam said before draining his mug.

Sam hadn’t felt this lighthearted in many moons. There was something about Steve that just brought out Sam’s mirth. He couldn’t explain it, but he naturally trusted Steve. Perhaps it was Steve’s straightforwardness, or maybe it was that he seemed genuinely interested in what Sam had to say. He had not felt camaraderie on this level since Riley and he had just met Steve a few days ago. While Sam didn’t usually believe in the Fates, he felt like they were destined to meet, that this friendship would amount to something very important.

“This is me,” Sam said, pointing to his front door.

“Is that a falcon head?” Steve asked, gesturing to the symbol above the entrance.

“Yeah, family crest,” Sam said. “Thanks again for the mead.”

“Don’t mention it,” Steve said. “After all, you’ll need an excuse for not keeping up with me tomorrow at the lake.”

“Oh, is that how it is?” Sam laughed.

“That’s how it is,” Steve smiled.

Sam was disappointed that Steve hadn’t shown up for the morning swims the past few days. Part of him hoped that he didn’t alienate Captain America when they shared stories over pints the other night. Steve seemed like he had a good time, and Sam really got the impression that Steve was going to join him on the swim the next morning. Perhaps some ‘save the crown’ mission came up.

Sudden knocking at the back door made Sam jump. He wasn’t expecting company and he didn’t have any reason to be concerned, but he readied himself nonetheless. He held his short sword in his right hand and slowly opened the door. He wasn’t expecting to see Steve and the lady who had met him the first day by the lake. They were both covered in dirt and soot, clothes tattered and torn, neither with armor.

“I didn’t know where to go,” Steve said.

“Everyone we know is trying to kills us,” the lady said said.

Sam instantly went into high alert. He had hoped the day would come when Captain America would need his help; he just didn’t expect so soon, under these circumstances. He opened his door wider and took a quick peek around.

“Not everyone.”

Sam directed Steve and lady, who was introduced as Baronessa Natasha, to the basin to freshen up while he stoked the fire in the kitchen stove to make breakfast. If Sam had to guess, his friends probably had not eaten a decent meal in a few days. Instead of the usual porridge with eggs, he felt like he had to make an impression.

Sam bounced on the balls of his feet as he prepped the meal. His whole body buzzed as he diligently measured flour, sugar, ginger, and almond milk. Sam considered the situation. Whatever this was, it was bad. Captain America was on the run and the world had turned upside down. They might not get out alive. Sam wasn’t even sure who or what they were fighting. He grabbed the cast waffle iron hanging on the wall and placed it over the hearth. When it was hot enough, he poured the batter in and put the iron back on the flame.

Sam felt ready though--ready to get back into the fight. Working at the foundry had provided tremendous resources for adjusting back to a civilian life, but deep down inside, Sam had missed being out in the field, of having a purpose that was greater than himself.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the cottage was small. Sam heard bits and pieces of Steve and Natasha’s conversation as he continued making waffles. Something about trust. Steve trusted Natasha with his life. Sam aspired to that level of trust with Steve. He felt eyes on him as their conversation finished.

Turning around, Sam said, “I made breakfast, if you guys eat that sorta thing.”

Steve didn’t ask for Sam’s help in taking down SHIELD. In fact, he said he couldn’t ask, but Sam saw the desperation in those baby blues. Sam appreciated that in his moment of need, when he didn’t know who else to trust, Steve chose him. Sam was not about to disappoint. He offered Steve and Natasha the best weapon he could think of.

“Mate, Captain America could use my help. No better reason to get back in,” Sam said.

Stealing the wings was Sam's first taste into this new life--the spy life--the life of constantly watching your back.

If there was a point of no return in this whole mess, this would be it. Going to jail for committing a felony--and possibly treason--for Steve was the least of Sam's worries. He knew it was for a good cause, the right cause. Captain America would not steer him wrong. Sam knew it was about more than maintaining his chivalry. It was about being able to move on, to keep fighting the fight. After Riley's death, Sam thought that choosing a more reserved life, a life away from the field, would help him heal. But there was always something missing, a void. Sam was always itching for the thrill. After all, that's why he chose flyers of all the services. Jumping off of ramparts gave him a strange serene sense of calm, where for a few moments, he felt free.

Getting past the guards was the easy part. The hard part was getting through double walled stone hold that now housed his tack. Steve and Natasha were more resourceful than Sam had given them credit for. They brought along a strange torch with the smallest flame Sam had ever seen. They cut a small hole into the wall and were in and out of the fort in no time.

It wasn’t the exact set of tack that Sam had used when he was in the service, but he knew the unit well enough. Sam studied it closely, poring over every small detail, from the way the leather “feathers” were stitched together to the lightweight metal frame that folded the wings neatly. The box holding the whole contraption together glowed blue, which told Sam that the power crystals inside it were active.

It wasn’t unusual for Sam to work nights if he had many orders, so no one raised any alarm when Sam walked in and settled into his work bench. He toiled through the night to retrofit the wings’ harness to his personal armor.

The next day, they followed Sitwell and some sleazy looking types to a house of ill repute at the edge of town. Sam relayed a message to Sitwell through the innkeeper but left the actual kidnapping to Steve and Natasha.

Sam was perched on a ledge, waiting for Steve’s signal. He couldn’t hear the conversation between Steve, Natasha, and Sitwell on the lower cliff, but it didn’t seem like Sitwell was giving up any information, judging by their body language and Steve’s clenched jaw.

Steve dangled Sitwell over the edge of the cliff; the claps of the choppy waters just muffling Sitwell’s protests of not being able to swim.

Sam adjusted the wings once more, making sure they folded in and tilted up when he pulled the respective levers. He ran his hands down the sides where the soft leather wrapped around the smooth metal frame. The familiar low hum of the power source settled any nerves Sam had about his task. It had been a long time, but it felt like home.

“Oh shit,” Sam muttered as he watched Natasha kick Sitwell off the cliff. Sam leapt off the ledge and expanded his wings, gliding down just in time to grab Sitwell’s leg. He adjusted the wings to fly back up and dropped the traitor at Steve’s feet. With a flick of his wrist, the wings folded neatly back in.

“Those are pretty nice,” Steve said as they quickly shoved Sitwell into the back of a carriage.

“They do the job,” Sam beamed.

They were riding towards the Triskelion when their carriage was suddenly flanked by horsemen. Sam steered their horses left, down an open path, when a dark figure jumped out of the trees and landed on the roof of the carriage. He ripped the reigns out of Sam’s hands. The horses, given their heads, started to canter. They picked up speed despite hitting every rock and root along the way.

Sam was desperately trying to calm the horses when Natasha yanked him sideways just as an ax flew past his face. One of the horses screamed in fear from the harassment of the horsemen still flanking them, and Sam looked up to realize they were coming up on a steep hill. They were going too fast for the carriage to navigate it and in his head he saw the carriage twist and roll, crushing them into the dirt. Then he felt an arm around his chest like an iron band and was pulled backwards. There was the disconcerting feeling of falling and then he landed on his back against unyielding muscle, Natasha bouncing next to him. They lay on the ground, on top of Steve, who was on top of the door from the carriage. The rest of the carriage rolled away, horses still screaming in their panic.

Sam instinctively rolled behind a tree. He watched Steve and Natasha confront the opposition head on. The most menacing figure Sam had ever seen was strutting right towards them. His face was half covered by a leather mask, but his hair flowed in the wind. He carried several weapons on his body with ease. At first, Sam was drawn to his left arm, which had been replaced by a broadsword. The man swung it with ease, as if the sword weighed nothing on his body. Brute force was a challenge, but it didn’t deter Sam. The soldier’s empty and rageful gaze, though, left a pit in Sam’s stomach.

Sam watched as the soldier raised his broadsword arm and slammed it down on Steve. Sam wanted to race to Steve’s aid. Captain America could use his help, but he was paralyzed with a mix of awe and fear.

Steve halted the sword arm just above his head and retaliated with a blow to the soldier’s face, knocking his leather mask to the ground.

Suddenly, Sam heard the thunk of arrows and rocks striking around him. Hoofbeats thundered past and then back again as the riders adjusted to their unpredictable action. One unlucky rider pulled up his mount too sharply and his horse objected, rearing up and throwing him to the ground. Sam pounced on the man, sliding his knife against his neck and drawing him up to stand as shield against his chest. Three other men, still mounted, flanked Sam against a tree.

“Rumlow! We got the other one,” one of the men called out.

When Sam looked in Steve’s direction again, he saw Steve on the ground, shackles around his hands and feet.

The agents called themselves HYDRA and took all the precautions in locking them up. There were various chains and locks and weights and some fancier technology--probably Stark’s--to keep Steve completely immobile. The one called Rumlow made the shackles just a smidge too tight, and Sam remembered to return the favor if he ever got the chance. Natasha had taken a knife to her shoulder and it looked pretty bad from what Sam could tell.

“It was him,” Steve said. “He looked right at me and he didn’t even know me. Zola. They must have found him after the fall.”

At the word fall, images of Riley falling to his demise flashed in front of Sam. If it had been Riley on the bridge, Sam would have been--he wasn’t sure what he would have been. Many mixed emotions floated around his head.

“None of that’s your fault, Steve,” Natasha said, breaking Sam from his daze.

“We need to get a medic here,” Sam said, trying to stay present and focusing on their situation. “She’s gonna bleed out.”

One of the guards turned to Sam, then suddenly attacked the other guard with a small rod to the jugular. The second guard slumped to the floor. Pulling the helmet off, the first guard revealed herself.

She shook her hair out and said, “That thing was squeezing my brain.”

Sam looked at Steve and then back at this guard, in confusion.

“Who’s this guy?” she asked, staring at Sam.

Her grey blue eyes immediately drew Sam in. He could tell that those eyes had seen things--things that change a person, for better or for worse. Despite the hardness in her gaze, her features were actually dainty; she had a soft beauty that probably served her well in the right situations but undermined her in others. Sam wanted to crack through that wall and hear her war stories.

“They call me Falcon,” Sam sputtered. He sensed Natasha rolling her eyes.

“Just kidding,” the guard said. “I know who you are, Wilson. I know everything about anyone who’s someone.”

“Am I someone ?” Sam asked Steve, who shrugged with a frown.

“And what do they call you?” Sam continued.

“Hill. Maria Hill,” she said, locking eyes with Sam again. “We have to get out of here. Fury’s waiting for us.”

Sam was amazed at all the gadgets Maria had to free them of the chains and bonds that the bad guys had put them in, probably more Stark inventions. Maria deftly removed some floorboards. The horses kicked up gravel into the carriage with their canter.

“Once you get down, roll to your right. There should be a boat right on the water. You think you’ll make it?” she asked Natasha.

Natasha nodded, crouching and sliding through the hole. Steve was next, followed by Sam, then Maria took the rear.

Sam had fought alongside several women when he was in the force, so Maria’s and Natasha’s physicality was not surprising to him. However, he had never before witness the grace and precision with which Natasha moved her body. Sam kept replaying the moment in the carriage where she pushed him aside. If not for her, there would be an axe square in the middle of his head.

When the boat left the dock, Sam felt he could drop his guard for the first time in a while. He looked towards Steve and Natasha, but they were throwing daggers back and forth with their eyes.

“I’m sorry this is how you find out,” Maria said, breaking the tension. “It was on a need-to-know basis.”

Natasha gave a small shrug and Steve looked out towards the water, shaking his head.

Sam stared at the ceiling of the dungeon. This Nick Fury was something else--faking his own death, commanding rogue forces across the land from here. Every turn that Sam followed Steve past came with a new layer of mess.

“I’m pretty sure you realize by now that you’ve gotten involved with some heavy shit,” Maria said, breaking Sam’s thoughts. “It’s not too late to back out. There will be casualties, possibly you. No one’s going to sing the tale of the brave and mighty Falcon. There is no glory in this mission.”

She gave off a different scary vibe than Natasha. Natasha’s strength lay in her fast reflexes, her lack of total hesitation; Maria’s was strategic. Maria was the chess player who hustled you--made you feel confident that she wasn’t a threat, and then take your king before you could get your bishops out. Always several steps ahead--probably courtesy of all that time with Fury.

While Sam felt like he earned a seat at the table, he still wasn’t sure whether she respected him or not.

“I’m not here for the glory,” Sam said.

“Good. We leave before dawn,” she replied.

Sam thought he might have caught a very faint smile curling the edge of her lips.

Breaking into the Triskelion was actually a lot simpler than Sam had anticipated. Maria knew the layout and the schedule for the changing of the guards. Their mission was to prevent the king from releasing the dragons, which were trained to reign destruction on the neighboring kingdoms. Natasha was sent in on a separate mission to assassinate the king.

Steve led the way while Sam and Maria followed closely behind. With their weapons out, they slowly descended into the dungeons where the dragons were kept. Sam bumped into Maria at the next turn.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“No you’re not,” she said.

Sam smiled. “Ok, maybe I’m not. Maybe a little.”

“Quiet or you’ll give away our position,” she said, just as three guards appeared on their path.

Steve threw his round shield, ricocheting it off the wall to knock the guards down where they stood. The clangs of their armor echoed down the spiral stairwell.

“I’m not the one you have to keep quiet,” Sam said, stepping over the guards.

They knew they were almost at the dungeons when it got harder to breathe, the air thick with dragon’s breath. Suddenly, the floor rumbled beneath them.

“Take cover,” Maria yelled.

The walls started to crumble around them.

Sam instinctively threw open his wings and wrapped them around the trio as they fell to the ground. The floor gave beneath them but they didn’t fall. It felt like the rubble was moving upwards and they were along for the ride.

Suddenly, they were up in the air and out in the open sky again. Sam looked around, trying to assess where they were when he was met with a pair of fiery eyes the size of Steve’s shield staring down a large, shiny, red snout. The heat emanating from this face rivaled the hottest forge Sam ever worked in.

“You take this one; I’m going after him,” Steve pointed towards the black dragon in the distance. Sam barely made out the figure riding the dragon, but he’d recognize that broadsword arm anyway.

“How are you--” Before Sam finished his question, Steve made a running jump. Sam watched as Steve dove into nothingness, catch the black dragon’s tail and then pulled himself up to the dragon’s back.

“Watch out!” Maria yelled, knocking Sam down as a streak of fire zipped over them. Maria patted the flames out in Sam’s feathers.

“So what’s the plan?” Sam asked, helping Maria to her feet.

“There’s a cavern in the outskirts of town,” Maria said, pulling a silvery rope out of her pack, throwing one end of it to Sam. “Let’s reign it in.”

The dragon’s scaly surface slowed them down tremendously, but they eventually got the rope around the dragon’s mouth. It took both their strength to fly the dragon. When Maria said cavern, she actually meant covert SHIELD prison, because as the dragon descended, Nick Fury was waiting with some sort of whip that subdued the dragon instantly.

“And the other one?” Nick asked.

They scanned the horizon until they saw the black dragon over the ocean. It was hard to make out what was happening, but Sam clearly saw a struggle between Steve and the Winter Soldier. The dragon looked like it had had better days too, with gashes down its sides and wings. The Winter Soldier pinned Steve down against the dragon and raised his broadsword arm up.

“NOOOOO!” Sam screamed, running towards them as the Winter Soldier struck his arm down.

“Wait, look,” Maria said, holding Sam back.

Sam looked closer and saw that the blade had struck the back of the dragon, who was slowly descending into the ocean. He knew they would have to act fast before the current took Steve out to sea.

“So what are you going to do now that SHIELD is no more?” Sam asked.

“I’m going to help Tony Stark rebuild the kingdom,” she replied. “And what about you? Going back to the foundry?”

Sam shook his head. “Whenever he wakes up, we’ll probably go searching for his friend, the dude with the sword arm,” he said.

“He’s recovering pretty quickly,” Maria said, staring at an unconscious Steve lying on a bed. Mages surrounded him, casting spells and administering potions.

“Our boy will beat this,” Sam said.

“You have a lot of faith in him,” Maria said. “I have to,” Sam replied. “He gave me a reason to get back in the fight. I will follow him to the ninth circle of hell.”

“You’re a good friend, Sam Wilson of the Falcon clan,” Maria said.

“You know you can just call me Sam,” he said, turning his head to look at her.

“I know.” She smirked, turning to return his gaze. “But I like making you squirm.”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head.

In one swift movement, Maria pinned him against the wall, her hand grabbing hold of his face. Her lips were on his, firm but not harsh.

Sam allowed his hands to wrap around her, pulling her curves towards him.

It was over as quickly as it started; she took a step away from him.

“I’ll see you around, Falcon,” she said.

“You better believe it,” he said.

It wasn’t a fortnight later when Sam and Steve slid into a dark alley. Natasha, in her dark cloak, blended into the surroundings.

“The thing you asked for,” Natasha said, handing a scroll over to Steve. “Be careful Steve. You might not want to pull on that thread.”

Steve looked hopeful yet pained at the same time. Sam was excited that Steve was getting a second chance, even though he wasn’t quite sure that this friend was the same that Steve had remembered. He knew that he wasn’t going to let Steve do this alone.

“When do we start?” Sam asked.

“You know you don’t have to come with me,” Steve replied.

“Somebody’s gotta make sure you eat a proper breakfast,” Sam laughed.

#not-worms #forging new friendships #samwilsonbirthdaybang #sam x maria #swbb #fanfic #mine

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