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#I will get better at drawing the judgement hall eventually
unma · 1 year
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Judgement Hall
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A drwing made for last year's anniversary, supposed to be posted aloong with the Undyne piece I actually did post. Never finished it though, as uh.....
Have you seen this drawing?
Far too much detail for me to actually truck through at the time, not to mention I hadn't finished
I liked the silhouette effect a lot. As you can tell, it was one of the first things I finished.
This was also yet another attempt at perspective, and one of the few that I actually still like somewhat. Though to be fair, not many even get a completed sketch...
Anyway, I liked this piece, even if I'll never complete it.
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slayerchick303 · 1 year
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QAF characters and how much I trust them
Emmett Honeycutt- My one true love! I'd trust him with the keys to my entire life. Emmett is who I aspire to be as a person. Not in like his career, love life, or anything. I'd just love to be as kind, confident, and pure of a human as he is. That being said, I think he's too optimistic to give any truly sound relationship advice (whether it be towards a friend, significant other, or family). But I'm just a cynic. On that note!----
Brian Kinney- I love Brian, and we have a lot in common. That is possibly why I give him zero trust. Brian would absolutely leave you stranded at an airport because he forgot to pick you up. At best, he'd be incredibly late because he got... diverted. I don't think he'd be as bad after season 5, but he's still not remotely reliable. (When I say I'm like him, it's not in this way! I'm not a flake like him). If he eventually showed up to your party, you could trust him to stay for about 5 minutes unless it was his kind of party. He'll show up to your anniversary gathering drunk with 2 random leather daddies he met at the bar. That being said, you can always trust him to liven a dead event by spiking the punch. He'd do that until a better offer came along, that is.
Justin Taylor- All the trust! He might be slightly late and have no food in his refrigerator when you come over, but he will never leave you in a lurch. He'll give you honest feedback and help you see reason before you do something stupid. And if he thinks something you believe in is worth doing, he'll stand at your side and help... even if it means plastering up posters all night when he has work in the morning. He'll tell you when your significant other sucks and that you should break up with them.
Michael Novotny- If you'd asked me in season 1, I would have given him so much trust. After season 5, however, my opinion changed. He would absolutely get preoccupied with his family and not be able to help you. He'd forget to call to cancel plans, too. As much as Michael is less of a doormat in season 5, I would still worry he wouldn't give me honest feedback. Plus, his whole judgemental streak was not cool. Those are heavy cons brought up in season 5, but I like to think he gets his head back on right, and he starts being a good friend and better person again.
Ted Schmidt- Ted is amazing in a crisis. He's the person you call at 3 AM when your life has fallen apart. He'll pick you up, help you save whatever you can, and draw up a ten point plan on how things are going to be okay by the time you're going to sleep on his couch. He'll assist you with phone calls and forms. Ultimate trust! He's fun at parties if you're looking for the chill area. He's much better after his self-esteem glow up in season 5. I couldn't hang with season 1 Ted. I'm already the -1,000 self-image person in the group. Granted, I have legitimate reason to be that way when Ted absolutely does not. That being said, he's another person who can't be objective with relationship advice. Most especially romantic advice. Both his and Brian's political opinions are straight-up garbage.
Melanie Marcus- She's another person I'd give the keys to my life to! If ever I needed help, I'd call her. I'd probably call Teddy first because he has less going on in his life, but Melanie would be my second call. She's competent in virtually everything but home renovation. She'll be honest with and will support you. She'll represent you pro-bono if you ever get into legal trouble. She'll rage with you at town halls to make sure everyone is protected and safe under the law. She'll plan events to bolster the community. She's even fun at parties. She earns all of the trust! The only thing I worry about is her absolute refusal to not go 160 miles per hour all the time. The woman needs to learn when to take a break. She has a vice grip desire to control things, but I'm pretty laissez-faire about everything, so I'd be glad not to have to make decisions.
Lindsay Peterson- While she shares many of the same qualities as Melanie, I trust her less. For one, she's the queen of getting invested in something when all prior experience has told her it's never going to happen (i.e. that her parents will love her unconditionally). Her priority is family, which is 100% valid. But unlike Mikey, if she or Mel were going to have to leave you high and dry, she'd at least call you. Most likely, she'd find someone else to make sure you were covered if neither she nor Mel could be there for you. She is a little prudish. She's often focused on propriety and the approval of others, so that's not great. Especially since I'm a people pleaser to begin with, so that's like adding gasoline to a fire. She would give sound relationship advice, though I think she's too forgiving of bad behavior *cough* Brian *cough*
Ben Bruckner- He's obviously very trustworthy and would do everything possible to help a friend. However, he does get tunnel vision and is primarily focused on family and work. At least he'd call if he had to cancel on you. That being said, I feel like his relationship advice would either be too nebulous or encourage you to just forget things and move on. He's also a Debbie Downer if you achieve something he aspires to. So, if you need a cheering section, I wouldn't trust Ben fully.
Debbie Novotny- If you need a cheering section, she's the woman to call. She'll come with literal bells on and bring half the diner with her. She would try (and absolutely fail) to give worthwhile advice. However, she pries, and she puts her nose in everyone's business. She'd force you to listen to unsolicited advice and demand to know personal details about you whilst spilling hers that you don't want to hear. That being said, she'd give you the shirt off her back and let you stay at her place indefinitely, provided you meet certain rules. She'd be the mother every person deserves (and I certainly wish I had), minus the occasional bout of horrible hypocrisy.
The top people in my trust list are Ted, Melanie, Justin, and Emmett. Who are yours? Tag me if you do this!
Inspired by @buffy--the--vampire--slayer 's post.
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dangerous-mess · 3 years
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Holiday Troubles
Characters: Aizawa, trans male reader
Contains: Unsupportive family, transphobia, homophobia, misgendering, mentions of a deadname (D/N), mentions of religion and praying, mentions of dysphoria, angst, hurt/comfort, angst with fluff ending. This was written mainly as a comfort fic during the winter holidays but wanted to post this here (originally posted on AO3). Please read with caution as this content may be triggering for some
Word Count: 2K+ 
The holidays were always rough for you, being not only gay but transgender as well. There were the off-putting tension and feelings every time you walked in the room, and the side glances and judgemental glares that were shot your way if you were even caught wearing something feminine and not masculine. Mostly from your parents and family, feeling the obligation that you had to follow gender norms in the hope to not only pass but to be taken seriously in your own identity.
The holidays got a little easier once you married your now husband. He made visiting your family a bit easier and made the holidays in general, more enjoyable for you. This year, unfortunately, he had meetings and a nightly patrol that he couldn’t get out of, so you were left to go to the Christmas family gathering by yourself.
The day came, and needless to say, you were a nervous mess. You dressed up in a suit, something masculine of course to appease your family and keep those comments at bay. Though, you knew you weren’t in the clear as there was still a high chance of being deadnamed and misgendered by family who were unsupportive or others who just didn’t try. Your husband, Shouta, let you know before he left early that morning that if you needed anything at all to give him or Hizashi a call and they would come and get you in a heartbeat. He said Hizashi, just in case he couldn’t be reached, which was fine with you, Hizashi had become a close friend to you.
You arrived at your parent's house a little later than they asked, just cause you were nervous and needed more time to prepare for this evening. You knocked on the front door, adjusting your suit as you waited for someone to open the door, only to be greeted by one of your younger siblings. They gave you a big hug, before dragging you inside where you were greeted by family. Your grandmother was the first to deadname you. She called out as you talked to your uncle, a devious smile on her face as the name rolled off her tongue. You cringed hearing it and so badly wanted to correct her, but if your mother caught wind that you did, who knows what drama may pursue. You endured the conversation with her, as she made sure to drop in your deadname every chance she could get.
“Honestly D/N, you really should stop playing dress up and realize that you are a girl. Your husband would be so much happier to have a wife who knows her place and not some confused girl.”
You took a deep breath and bid your goodbyes to your grandmother as you went to find someone else to talk to. Eventually, dinner was called, and you all gathered around and your grandfather said a prayer. You looked down at your feet the entire time, not really wanting to participate in the prayer. Soon it wrapped up and a line formed into the kitchen to get food. After everyone got food, everyone gathered around and talked, telling stories of things that happened within the past year in their lives, as well as asking questions to others to get the latest scoop. You just decided to eat silently, trying to not participate in the gossip fest happening before you.
“So Y/N, how are you and your husband doing?” Your dad asked before he took a sip of a beer. You held up your pointer finger, signaling that you needed a moment as your finished chewing food before you smiled and spoke.
“Oh, we are doing well! He sends his deepest apologies that he couldn’t make it, hero duties called.” You smiled, taking a quick glance around the room. Some whispers were exchanged, knowing it was about you and Shouta. It was clear that besides your family not supporting your identity, they also did not support your marriage to a hero. Especially a hero who was supportive of you and your identity.
“Honestly, how she manages to keep such a hero man, is insane. Like who would wanna marry some confused lesbian?” One of your aunts spoke out. You gripped your glass tightly, biting your tongue, not wanting to start any issues.
Other family members chimed in to add on to your aunt's comment and soon it became too much. You quickly excused yourself and went to the bathroom farthest away from your family. You pulled out your phone and texted your husband. You told him that you needed him or Hizashi or someone to come to pick you up, as you originally walked, as it was nice earlier prior to the sun setting. You quickly got a reply, saying your husband was on his way, and that he was getting someone to cover the rest of his patrol. You felt a bit bad to interrupt and have him leave his patrol, but god you just needed him right now more than anything.
You hid amongst the rooms as you waited for Shouta to send you a message or signal that he was here. Your mom called out your name, walking down the hall looking for you. The smile on her face dropped as she saw you and grabbed your arm.
“Come on Y/N, we are about to exchange gifts. Stop trying to hide and be nice and spend time with your family. It took a lot of work and effort to get everyone here, like your grandparents who haven’t seen you in ages.” Your mom aggressively whispered at you, as she pulled you towards the living room. You stayed silently, hoping that your husband would be here soon.
Your mom let you go and pointed to a chair near the tree. You sat down and were handed some gifts. You slowly opened them, trying not to draw attention to yourself. The first gift was in a gift bag, and opening it exposed a colorful piece of clothing. You pulled it out and it was a sundress. Although you didn’t mind breaking gender norms, dresses were never your thing, they held too many bad memories and made you dysphoric. You frowned, not having the energy to fake a smile. You felt your mind start to spiral before a voice pulled you out.
“Oh, D/N do you not like it. I made sure to even get the right size and everything. I thought you could put that on and surprise your husband when you go home. Imagine how he would react to see his wife, finally coming to terms with herself.” Your grandmother called out, staring at you the entire time. You went to open your mouth when another voice spoke up.
“Actually, I think my husband looks handsome and perfect just the way he is in the suit he is wearing, but thank you. Maybe we can save the dress and give it to one of my students, I know one of them would get much better use of it.” Shouta’s voice boomed out, making a hush fall across the room. You never heard the front door open, but then again Shouta was very good at staying silent. You looked at your husband, feeling all your emotions and feelings starting to rise to the surface. You caught a dirty look your mother gave you as you stood up and made your way over to Shouta.
He held out his hand as you got closer and held it tightly, quickly bidding goodbye for you both as he quickly led you outside to the car that was waiting outside and still running. “I had Hizashi drive me over, hope that’s okay.” You just nodded at him, not letting go of his hand until you got into the car. As soon as you and Shouta were in the car, Hizashi sped off.
“Heya listener, how did it go?” Hizashi asked out, peeking into the mirror looking back at you.
“I lasted longer than last year, so that’s a new record at least.” You joked, trying not to cry. At least not now, you had to make it until you were home and in bed, with your husband holding you close.
Hizashi talked most of the ride home, while Shouta kept glancing back at you. You tried to listen to what was being said, but you couldn’t focus, so you just looked out the window, slightly dozing off. You woke up to the feeling of being carried, your eyes adjusted as you saw Shouta was carrying you into the house and to the bedroom. On any other occasion, if he was carrying you like this you were bound to tease or crack a joke or something, but in this moment you just stayed in his arms, gripping onto him tightly. Once you both got to the bedroom, he helped you undress and slip on something comfy. After he finished helping you, he quickly changed and climbed into bed, pulling you close to him and holding you tightly.
For a while, you just laid there in his arms, fighting back the urge to scream and cry. Though, after he comforted you and let you know it was okay to be upset and that you could let it all out. In which you did, you sobbed in his chest for what felt like hours. You screamed and sobbed and let out all the feelings you bottled up for the few hours you were at the family gathering. Eventually, you ran out of tears to cry and were only left with your own thoughts. You were overthinking, mostly dwelling on the words your family spoke out to you this evening, and couldn’t help but question if it was true.
“Sho...I’ve got to ask you something, kind of important.” You gently pushed away and sat up in the bed, looking at him. He stared at you, and nodded, letting you know it was okay to continue on. You took a deep breath and went for it, “Am I enough for you? I brought a lot of baggage and trouble into our relationship and I know it can’t be easy for you dating me, specifically with the backlash and comments that get made by my family and others about me transitioning and just. If you were with anyone else, I feel like you won’t get all this drama and I’m sorry I’ve brought so much of it onto you Shouta.”
You watched as his facial expression changed and you quickly looked away, finding interest in anything that wasn’t his face, afraid of what his reaction not only meant but the words that were about to follow. “Y/N, please look at me.” You slowly looked up and he placed a hand on your cheek. “I love you Y/N. I love you for you, you are my husband and I won’t want anyone else besides me. You are more than enough for me. And we both have a lot of baggage but that doesn’t change my feelings for you, we can work through it all together. I meant what I said in my vows and at our wedding and I still stand by it. Forever and always.”
You fiddled with your fingers before speaking up, “I love you Shouta so much, I’m just afraid one day I won’t be enough, cause as silly as it is, I don’t feel masculine or manly enough, that you’ll find more of a ‘real’ man one day and just leave me behind.” Tears filled your eyes and you looked down, just wanting to hide under the blankets.
“Y/N Aizawa, you are absolutely masculine and manly enough. I will never find anyone else or more a man than you. You are all I want, and all I need. I love you so much, don’t ever doubt my love for you, cause it is never-ending sweetheart.” Shouta spoke out, lifting your head up and placing a small kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his arms, holding you close. You just stayed there close, as Shouta whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you drifted off to sleep.
Shouta always made the holidays more bearable, but he also made life in general easier. He made waking up a little easier and helped with your hectic thoughts to calm you down. He truly was the love of your life and the best you could ever ask for. You couldn’t have gotten any luckier to have a husband as sweet and perfect as you. He may not be the number one hero to the rest of the world, but in your eyes and his heart, he was, he was your number one hero.
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static-fanatic-1 · 4 years
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Yandere!All For One x Fem!Reader
Warning: Non-con, Fingering, Kidnapping, Mentioning of stalking, Spooky gift giving, Reader has a powerful healing quirk activated by bodily fluids (it’s important).
Word count: 7.3k
~~~~~
You nervously bit your lip, twiddling your hands and fingers to relive the anxiety creeping up your spine. Recovery Girl, the healing hero that decided to take you under her wing, decided it would be good idea for you to meet a colleague of hers to get some physical training. It was an important thing that you needed to learn despite your quirk.
The slender yet short woman took a weary glance at you. "Calm down (y/n), you have no reason to be nervous."
You jumped at the sound of her voice. "I-I know, what if they don't think I'm worth training though?" You've always been self councious of your quirk. Though it was insanely powerful, mainly for other people, it turned you into a physically sickly person. To simply put it, what you thought was not worth training.
A disappointed sigh left her lips. Recovery girl, still not looking her age as of yet, was a short woman with dark black hair, peppered with more white streaks than her natural color, dressed in a bun with her usual hero look going on. "Gran Torino won't push you too hard, besides he's training Toshinori! You know him right? The third year who's really strong?"
A slight blush tinted your cheeks. "Uh, y-yes ma'am!" God you hated it when you became a stuttering mess, especially when that specific third year was mentioned. Ever since you bumped into him in the halls you couldn't shake away your growing crush. It was totally embarrassing. Even your classmate, Enji Todoroki, lightly made fun of you for it.
Ms. Shuzenji lightly chuckled at your reddened expression. "Gran Torino said he would meet us in one of the gyms after school hours. Since you're a first year and you don't have your provisional license yet, we aren't supposed to train you off of school grounds." She further explained.
"When I get my license will it be alright for me to train off campus? Or could he just take me in for hero studies?"
"Technically you already are under hero studies because I'm training you, and because I'm a teacher I can't allow you to train off school grounds." The two of you turned a corner, now face to face with the large door separating you two from the racket going on on the other side. Both of you exchanged a confused look before opening the doors.
From what you were witnessing, you probably shouldn't have agreed to working with Gran Torino.
The yellow blur flew from floor to ceiling, and wall to wall just to slam his feet into the poor boy's body. Each attack seemed more painful than the last as he desperately tried to keep up with his sensei.
Toshinori paused, as did Gran Torino, and excitedly straightened his stance. With a finger pointing in your general direction his face lit up. "Your that first year I bumped into! Gran Torino you should have told me who-!"
His spat was quickly cut off by a pair of feet slamming against his ribs. The blond flew across the gym and into the concrete walls, dust fuming around his now hunched over form. "Don't get distracted, Toshinori." Torino scolded.
The average height hero turned, now facing the two female across the room. "So this is (l/n)? Nice to meet you." He said with a slight wave.
Recovery girl tapped your shoulder and motioned to the suffering boy, telling you to heal him without using her words. "Pl-pleasure to meet you too, sir." Quickly nodding in both of the hero's directions, you scurried over to the third year you unfortunately developed a crush over.
"Um, Toshinori Senpai, are you hurt?" 'What am I saying? Of course he's hurt!' Your flustered mumbling almost went unnoticed.
"Yeah, yeah, probably broke a rib... again." His blond hair framed his smiling face, the overly joyous expression only bringing you more concern.
"Again?! Here, let me help." You wrapped your arms around his form and lifted him into a seating position, doing your best to keep him upright. "Alright so this might be weird, but, are you okay with kissing me?" You twisted your face in a sad excuse for guilt.
Toshinori found it funny, but unexpected none the less. "K-kiss you?!" His face burst into a deep red blush while his words came out as coughs.
"Y-Yeah! I mean or lick you, whatever floats your boat I don't judge."
Gran Torino wondered over to the youthful hero. "So she's the healer? The one you wanted me to train alongside Toshinori right?"
She nodded and turned to look at her addresser. "Her healing is stronger than mine, and there are no repercussions on the person she uses it with. If the two of them get to know each other they could be an amazing team."
"Healing stronger than yours huh? How does it work?"
"Bodily fluids like blood and saliva." Shuzenji paused, letting the information sink in before continuing. "Her quirk has been used in ways it shouldn't have been used."
Gran Torino furrowed his brows and looked at the two students. Toshinori already looked much better than before. His skin seemed healthier, pained expression replaced with a bright red face, and the blood smeared on his mouth being wiped away like a memory. Still, he soaked in the new information as he watched the students embarrass themselves.
"Does she know about one for all?"
"No, but she's trustworthy enough to tell, eventually at least."
"Alright, alright, I'll train her."
~~~
After a few months of training under Gran Torino and Toshinori, you had grown a little bit stronger. At least as strong as you were able to get. Toshinori on the other hand made a lot more progress, his training also getting far more intense than you will ever be able to handle.
Enji tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to reality. He gave you a disappointed yet concerned look. "You need to focus, I don't want to help you with History again."
"Ah, sorry, sorry." He scoffed and grabbed his stuff to leave the classroom. "Wait for me!" You yelped, quickly stuffing your things in your bag to chasing after him. "Your legs are too long!"
The two of you wondered into the cafeteria and settled in your seats. You shuffled things around in your bag as Enji started to eat, you could feel him watching and judging you. "What?"
He slurped up his hot soba, taking his time before he decided it would be okay to explain his judgement. "You have been training with that third year huh? Yagi, isn't it?"
"O-oh! Um, yeah. Toshinori, he's been helping me get stronger despite my quirk's draw back." You shifted in your seat under his intense glare.
"And?" He pressed on.
"Oh you know, he's helping me learn how to fight and get physically stronger. Nothing too special. Why do you ask?"
A certain blond revealed himself, his bright smile almost blinding as he smacked his tray on the table next to you. "Hey (y/n), Todorok-kun!"
You jumped and covered your reddening face with your hands. "Ah! Hello Toshi-senpai!"
Enji glanced between the two of you, both of you have been rather close lately and the redhead was developing theories that have been plaguing his mind. "That's why I ask." He pointed to your bright red face.
Toshinori almost spat out his water when he glanced at your red face. "Woah! Todoroki-kun, it's nothing like that! Haha!"
"Y-Yeah! We're just training!" You spat out.
Enji just gave you a look, but overall decided against pressing further. Instead he sighed and glared at the third year.
You couldn't blame him though, Toshi was easily considered as strong as the pros, and Enji wanted to be on top of them all. He most likely saw him as competition.
You lightly laughed and tapped Enji's shoulder. "Don't over think it. Besides let's be honest, I need a lot more help than you do." You have the redhead a delicate smile, still he kept his condescending look.
"Don't you have to do chemistry homework you skipped?"
"Oh shit! That's next period!" You yelped and began the homework you skipped last night.
"Geez, I remember chemistry, I really struggled with that one." Toshi exclaimed, leaning back with his cheeks stuffed with pork cutlet and rice. "I can't help you with that one, (y/n)-chan."
"Don't worry, I'm surprisingly good at math and science. It's the other subjects I struggle with." You stuffed your face with your food as you quickly solved the problems on the sheet. "Enji actually helps me with the other ones, I help him with chemistry and maths."
"I don't need your help." Todoroki snapped back.
"Sure." Came out your muffled sarcasm. "Do you want me to check your homework?"
There was a slight pause, Toshinori placing his hand over his mouth to stop his growing laughter.
"Yes."
~~~
That was the beginning of the three of you. Toshi quickly climbed up the ranks as the number one hero. He left for America for a while, but kept in touch with you as you finished school and tried to make a name for yourself.
Enji quickly surpassed you, but he still stayed your dear friend. He found an organization and followed behind Toshi, climbing up the ranks and making a name at the early age of twenty.
They were strong, powerful, and you were everything else. Weak. The only thing you had going for you was your quirk, and even then it was taxing on your body.
You joined a smaller hero agency and continued developing your quirk. With your skill in chemistry you learned you can convert your bodily fluids into pill form. Though they don't work as well, it allows you to give people a full heal without loosing yourself.
Though you never seemed to be as lucky as you hoped. The hero you had come to know and trust abused your kindness, his other sidekicks finding it funny to stuff you full of their cocks and use you as a toy.
You never felt so humiliated and destroyed in your entire life. What started as a simple conversation drastically changed into the hero's using your quirk as an excuse to do as they pleased. They even threatened to ruin your career as a hero if you told anyone... but you just couldn't keep quiet.
That night you drove away, tears streaming down your reddened cheeks as the horrid feeling and taste lingered. You drove all the way to the current number nine's house and knocked on his door at 2:48 am. He lived alone, still focusing on climbing up the ranks to be number one.
Despite not seeing him in months and thinking you were only a distraction, he let you in.
Enji held you close as you sobbed and told him what happened, your words chocking on your cries. He let you clean up and stay for the night, as you didn't feel safe alone anymore. You slept on the couch that night, unbeknownst to you Enji called up Toshinori.
The three of you met up the next day to expose the so called heroes that defiled you. Without Enji and Toshinori, you wouldn't have been able to tell anyone, that or you would never be the hero you've always wanted to be.
You constantly look back on that day. You couldn't help but appreciate what your two friends did for you, especially when you are reminded of them. You would give anything to help them. Anything.
You joined All Might in his quest for heroism, becoming his sidekick and healing people he saved. He loved working with you, and you loved working with him. The spark between the two of you was obvious from the beginning, and as the two of you worked together the spark only grew.
You left for a while though, a well-known hero asking for your help in America. You bought a small apartment and began your own.
~~~
"Wait... what? He-he's...." You voice cracked, hand lightly tracing the bow on the flat triangular box on your bed. Smooth wrapping providing false comfort over the situation over the phone. Gran Torino's gruff, pained voice echoed in your ears and in your brain.
"Toshinori needs your healing, that or I'm afraid it will be the end of the Symbol of Peace." You shivered at his words, turning your back to your bed to sit down. Your hands rubbed your face and eyes from stress, not just from Toshi's conditions but the strange gifts you keep finding in your house. "Recovery girl already stabilized him, but your healing should finish the job."
"I understand, uh, I'll book a ticket-"
"Don't, we already bought a private plane ticket, we don't want the media to get involved." Gran Torino finished, sighing behind the screen. He must be feeling the same things you were feeling; stress and anxiety. Despite the stress he continued, giving the details of the flight he bought.
"Alright, alright. I'll get some pills ready and pack. Take care." He lightly chuckled, probably nodding behind the screen, before ending the call.
You dropped you phone on your bed and sighed. The hand that was tracing the wrapped gift paused over the red satin bow. A sense of dread crawled up your spine making you shiver.
You wanted to throw the thing away and let it rot in your dark closet, but after finally deciding to open the other ones up you decided that wasn't a good idea. Whoever has been sending you the few gifts wanted something you were too afraid to give.
Yesterday you opened the first gift, one with a purple bow and silver wrapping paper, and found a beautiful sun dress with a letter. At first you thought it was a fan, after all it wasn't too strange for you to find fans who gave you gifts like this, so you ignored the red flag of finding it on your temporary apartment door step.
But when you glanced at the letter, your blood froze. Written in fancy cursive, penmanship you could easily call perfect, was an alarming letter about compliments you could dismiss as a little strange. That was the second red flag.
The next few gifts had letters as well, each one more descriptive and alarming than the last. One described how entertaining it was for you to be so close to the number one hero All Might, and how the sender would enjoy taking you from him.
So when you found another gift, this time wrapped in a red bow with dark grey wrapping, you wanted to puke. You debated opening it up to save yourself some sanity and stress, but you were more afraid of the repercussions of not seeing what's inside.
With shaky breaths and an even shakier hand you unveiled the mystery box. You never felt so much dread in your life until you saw what was under the letter.
A gorgeous, obviously expressive set of black lingerie brought bile into your throat. Clasping your hand over your mouth you tried to swollen the nasty mixture as you continued your investigation. The set was lacey in a sultry way, seductive like it was meant for a lover to wear on their honeymoon.
You hated it, you feared it.
Especially the letters, you still didn't know who sent them but that only made you more afraid. So you read it, maybe you would know who was sending you these things, maybe you could get them arrested and save yourself the stress while you go heal Toshi.
'Dear (y/n) (l/n),
I consider myself a patient man, one that will wait until the time is right. I wish for you to wear the gift I have given you, it would greatly please me to see you in it when I come for you. So save yourself the pain-'
You stopped and gagged, crumpling up the carefully written letter and throwing it across the room. Anxious tears streamed down your face as you violently shook.
Their going to come for you? Why? When? Where? Here? No no no, not here. You'll be off back home in Japan, away from this sad apartment and away from the creepy stalker.
You glanced over at the lingerie, should you wear it? What would they do if you didn't wear it? Are they watching you now?
Once more you shivered, this time taking the lingerie and holding it close. You were terrified of the consequences so you decided to wear it. All you had to do now was get some pills ready and pack for the plane ride. So stop stressing.
~~~
You held your bags close, the satchel with your quirk infused pills even closer. Your anxiety was spiking, more so than it has ever before. You wore half of your hero costume, having on the white lab coat, jaw guard, and belts with sleeping syringes you created yourself. Usually you have heels with a dress shirt and pencil skirt, but instead you decided to wear something more comfortable. So you wore grey sweat pants and a black tank top under your white coat.
Grey and white mountains littered the horizon while vibrant greenery and large trees rose high into the sky. You exited the small plane and wondered over to Gran Torino. A solemn expression decorated your features as you met up with the group.
Gran Torino, Sir Nighteye, and Tsukauchi waited for you, Tsu being the only one to smile back. "Hey, Witch Doctor are you ready to head out?" Tsu wore a white dress shirt and black slacks with his favorite brown trench coat over his shoulders.
Gran Torino and Sir Nighteye wore their full hero costumes despite the long ride ahead.
Your smile widened ever so slightly as you nodded. "Please, call me (y/n). And yes, I have the pills if he wants to go that route, it should be more than enough to heal him all the way." You lifted up the satchel and waved it around.
They knew how your quirk worked, bodily fluids. So they understood how people in the past took advantage of that, so they were a little surprised when you mentioned giving All Might a choice. They didn't mention it though. "Could-can you... tell me about Toshi?"
Gran Torino grunted before waking to a few cars nearby. "His stomach was pretty much gutted, he's hanging on a thread thanks to Recovery Girl. He would've died otherwise."
Nighteye looked away with an uncomfortable expression. "If he-he didn't hold on for so long...." He mumbled away without wanting to finish his sentence.
"He'll be fine," Finished Tsukauchi. "He is fine, he just needs some help getting better."
You listened to the policeman, his enthusiasm seemingly forced and full of anxiety. "What happened to him?" You asked again, this time with more force.
They all stayed silent as they continued walking to the cars, so you stopped. "L-listen, I know why it might be hard to talk about, but-but I would like to know. There-there has been some crazy shit happening lately, and you said he was injured a few days ago? It just-just seems too... too coincidental? I guess?"
Tsukauchi turned to you with a worried expression. "Like what? Why haven't you told any of us?"
"I was-it is just-just a stalker but... I'm scared, you know? It started four-five days ago and it just seems too coincidental." You lightly laughed at yourself, your hands rubbing up and down your arms to try and calm your riled up nerves. "Never mind, I'm-I'm just stressing out. Maybe...."
Nighteye adjusted his glasses and peered into your soul. "Why would it be coincidental? What else happened?"
"There-there were letters. Letters with information only a few people should know about." Your body curled in on itself. "Some things about Nana, and you guys, and Toshi. Just a bunch of mumbo jumbo that has me scared."
Tsukauchi placed a hand on your shoulder. "Let's talk about this in the car." His delicate smile helped put you at ease, so you nodded and continued. "And if you really are worried maybe Nighteye can look into your future?"
The tall, suit wearing man scoffed as he entered the passengers seat. "I'm not exactly okay with something like that."
"It would help." You meekly said, getting into the car. The men took a nice long look at you, how you shivered and stared with a furrowed brow. It was like you were playing out scenarios of all the bad things that could happen to you. "But I understand-!"
"You look pathetic like that." Nighteye shifted in his seat as Gran Torino started the car. "I'll do for you, but you can't change what will happen. I've tried."
You shyly smiled at him and nodded your head. "That's fine with me, I just want to mentally prepare myself, ya' know?"
"That's a good idea, Witch Doct-I mean (y/n)." Tsu corrected himself and shifted next to you.
"Right, thanks guys." You and Sir looked into each others eyes, a small shiver running up your spine as his left eye turned into a purple-black storm.
All four of you waited as the car sped through the Japanese wilderness. The large green trees provided shade and small rays of sunlight peeking through. The road was long and curved on the side of the mountain you were descending. It was peaceful, calm... too calm.
The thick air was interrupted by a gasp, Nighteye's calculating eyes shifting to the sunroof of the small car. His body was rigid, his face twisted in growing fear. "Stop the car!"
Gran Torino smashed the breaks causing the car to screech and dangerously swerve to a stop. "Whats-?!"
He couldn't finish his sentence before a large, swirling purple mass emerged from nothing before the group. A large hand emerged, a rocky face following behind.
"Get our of the car!" Sir Nighteye screeched, grabbing Gran Torino and pulling him out with him. Tsukauchi dashed out and joined the others against the cliff side.
You unbuckled and reached for the door handle, but you were too late.
The large figure fully emerged and smacked his hand against the car, knocking it off the steep cliff side and into the mass of trees below. You screamed and held your body as close as possible, the car shoving you every which way. Glass shattered, metal crushed against itself, you hit your head so much you could taste the blood in your mouth.
A loud crash echoed through the forest floor, bird and animals fleeing to a far away safety. You coughed, trying to drag your body out the broken window next to you.
Your arm shrieked in pain, it must be broken, you thought. Still you refused to be a sitting duck. You clawed your way out of the car, praying all of your things are in one piece.
Gran Torino appeared in front of you and helped you out before hopping away. The giant from before jumped down beside the car, the ground around him crumbling under his feet. "Everything I do is for my master." The giant chanted his mantra, his eyes glueing to your form with heart stopping ferocity.
Nighteye fell from above and slammed his feet against the giant's head, knocking him off his rhythm.
He grunted and stumbled into a tree, trampling the plant in the process. He took the broken tree and rips it from the ground just to chuck it back at Sir Nighteye.
"Watch out!" You swallowed your blood and spit to heal yourself just enough to get into the fight. You shoved your support mask over the lower half of your face, letting it pierce through your skin so you can drink your blood. "Torino! Make sure Tsukauchi is okay, I'll go for Sir!"
"Get in and get out!" Quickly you two split up.
You dashed over to Sir Nighteye and pulled him from the colliding tree. You drank your blood and building saliva to slowly heal your wounds, your broken arm mending itself enough for you to use it.
The tree burst into splinters. Sir found his footing and pulled you behind another tree. "Are you okay?" He asked, holding you close while looking at the giant behind him.
"Yeah, yeah. What did you see in your vision? We'll get out right?"
Sir Nighteye bit his bottom lip. He didn't know what he should do, tell her and give up or try and fight fate. "That's not important right now." He commented calmly, but internally he was at war.
He saw your future, one where you were taken after everyone else was too hurt to fight back. Gran Torino would jump in to try and save you, Tsukauchi begging for you be set free from the cliff side. Gran Torino would be caught and killed when he tries to save you, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Sir Nighteye almost debated letting you get caught just so the rest of them could get away unharmed.
You glanced at him before pulling the two of you were crushed by the giant. "Focus Sir! We need to group up with Torino and Tsu. This guy is really strong."
"We can't take him on." He blurted out.
"What do mean?" Your voice came out shaky, the giant already on his way to fight you two again. He trudged over and loomed above you and Sir, growling as he swiped Sir Nighteye away. The giant had a hint of a smile of his face when he gripped your form in his iron like grip.
You jolted in his hold and fumbled with your hero costume to pull out the syringes, all of them. Quickly you stabbed the giant's neck and pumped his system with five of your homemade concoctions.
Gran Torino grabbed Nighteye before he slammed against a tree, carefully putting the fading man on the ground. Torino stared up at your thrashing form, but before he could rush up to help you a hand tightly gripped his forearm. "Don't, if you go you'll die!"
Nighteye's grip tightened once he heard Tsukauchi scream from above.
"We can't let them take her, she's the only one that can heal Toshinori!" Gran Torino argued, thrashing away and dashing to save you.
The giant wobbled from the potent amount of drugs in is system, but it didn't stop him. A new purple portal formed in front of the two of you, and a newfound vigor was found in the giant. "Gran Torino!" Your voice echoed with unadulterated terror.
You could see him coming to help you, but you could also feel the giant prepare an attack against your friend. If you were taken Toshi wouldn't get the drugs, Gran Torino would get seriously injured if he got too close. You didn't want to see that happen, so you grabbed the satchel and threw it as hard as possible at Torino, smacking him against the face and knocking him to the ground.
The giant trudged into the portal with you over his shoulder, leaving your hero buddies in the ruined forest. He kneeled down and swayed from the drugs, letting you fall to the ground below him.
A man of purple mist and a dress vest walked over, his misty hands clamped over his front. "Witch Doctor," he addresses," I would appreciate it if you followed me."
You bit your lip, still being looked over by the giant man behind your hunched form. You wanted to ask a question, to yell and scream and thrash until they were too annoyed to keep you alive... but you were too afraid to even try.
Was this the man sending you the letters? Was this the legendary All For One Toshi warned you about? "Who-who are you?" Your voice betrayed you and cracked under your fear.
Yellow eyes evaluated your own (e/c) ones. The mist man in front of you seemed to be figuring out what happened to the woozy giant behind you, but you couldn't tell in those yellow voids of his. "My name is Kurogiri, now, follow me." His tone shifted into a more violent one.
You shivered under his gaze, a figure showing up beside him. A judgmental figure at that, short with large goggles and a mustache. Though this new addition discarded you with a quiet mutter under his breath.
Kurogiri finally had enough waiting and grabbed you by your wounded forearm, making you cringe as he pulled you through the dull halls of the facility. The environment was filled with dark greys, bright blues and a metallic shine. "Where are we going?"
"You are going to heal my master."
You didn't need to hear anymore before understanding what was going to happen. You pulled your injured arm from his grip, wincing at the pain, and ran as fast as you could.
Sadly you didn't get as far as you would have wanted. A purple portal swept you off your feet, making you fall into a new room entirely. Your body slammed against the hard floor without mercy.
Kurogiri sighed and stepped through a portal he made for himself, once again dragging you to your feet. The room was dark, but clean and barren none the less. The sounds that echoed through the room was that of a breathing machine and medical equipment.
"You may leave, Kurogiri. I'll take it from here."
A haunting voice shook you to your core, it was deep and threatening, yet mocking and intrigued. The man of mist turned on his heels and left, closing the portal behind him. Your heat beat loudly in your chest, suffocating and causing you to hyperventilate.
The voice boomed with laughter, a strained sound complimenting the 'wrrr's of the machines. "You have no reason to be afraid, (y/n)." The hands gripping the floor violently shook, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. "Now come here."
His mammoth sized hand stalked out of the darkness covering his body, tempting you to take it. You could see the underlying of his mouth, bright white teeth gleaming in mockery. "I suggest you don't keep me waiting, I've been patient enough." He added.
Your feet acted on their own volition, moving you closer to the shadowed figure. He could probably hear your uneven breathing from the bed he sat in. Once you stood beside the bed, tears streaming down your cheeks, he roughly grabbed your wrists and pulled you on top of him. Your legs straddled his hips as he sat up, a sigh escaping his barely visible lips.
"I must confess, (y/n), I've had my eyes on you for quite sometime." His mocking tone brought more tears to fall. "At first I was going to take you after I killed Nana, just to torture All Might some more. Then I learned of your quirk and wanted it for myself, but it wouldn't exactly be useful if I took it would it?"
His mammoth hands wrapped tightly around your wrists, forcing them to cup his cheeks around his sickening smile. "I asked a question." His voice shifted into a scolding tone, his hands slipping from your arms to your waist.
"N-no, it wouldn't."
All For One's smile widened at your scared tone. "Are you scared?" He mocked. "Where's that smile All Might preaches, huh?" You jolted in his lap as his cold hands touched the flesh of your hips. He snickered at your skittish reactions. "You are much cuter up close, you know that?"
Submit or fight back? You tried that a long time ago, fighting back, and it made everything so much worse. You were afraid, terrified of fighting back against this man. Were you afraid of death? No, you never thought yourself to be, but maybe you were wrong. The suffocating feeling of him staring you down like prey made you think he was death itself. And that made you fucking terrified.
His humming and hands sliding your shirt up brought you back to reality. "Wa-wait!"
He grumbled and stopped. "Go on."
"I can heal you another way! It'll hurt less but-but it'll take a little longer." You stutter to try and save your skin, but the never faltering smile he gave told you it was all for not.
His hands also proved that theory. They roamed up your tank top, tapping each finger against your skin for more insult to injury. "You're so sweet, worrying about me. I'm sure you already know who I am, don't you?"
You nodded and tried to shift away from the man's touches. He groaned at the friction down below. Time stopped when you heard that noise, a meek squeak emitting from your throat. He mockingly laughed at the sound. "I'll take that as a yes."
He started to take off your clothes, gently, slowly, layer by layer. Shivers and tears shocked your body, you hated it, but you were too afraid to even think about fighting back. Pieces were thrown to the stone floor, your hero costume being stripped from you.
All For One's grin widened more than you thought possible. "You wore the lingerie I bought for you. I'm flattered." His hands cupped your covered breasts, the thumbs tracing the lace. You held back a mewl when he undid the clasp and started kneading the mounds. Forefingers and thumbs tweaked your nipples, pulling and pinching the sensitive flesh.
Your hands stayed glued to his face, the tips of your fingers grazed mauled flesh but quickly pulled away. The man below you noticed, chuckled, and forced your hands onto his mauled face again. "This is what your precious All Might did to me, cruel isn't it?"
A shiver ran down your spine at the odd sensation he forced in your finger tips. Calloused hands dragged down your waist to your panty line, pulling the clothe to the side. His thick finger ran up your slit, collecting the small amount of fluid that had built up. He returned it to his lips and dragged his tongue to lap up the liquid pleasure.
All For One shuddered and groaned at the taste. the man could feel your quirk taking effect, the burning sensation already taking hold the more he tasted. Animalistic pleasure grabbed him by the throat, his lips crashing into your own. He wanted more of that sweet taste, the taste that would heal him back into completion over and over and over again.
He wanted you, all of you.
Saliva mixed in both of your mouths as his tongue slipped past your lips. He groaned and tightened his already iron grip on your hips, your bones creaking under the strain. You meekly shrieked when he bit down on your bottom lip, sucking and drinking the blood.
The wound quickly healed up so he kept his assault, biting and sucking and drinking the blood. Your hands slid to his clothed chest, trying to push off.
All For One wasn't having it though, he stripped himself of his suit jacket and dress shirt and pulled your form closer to him. His clothed groin strained in his pants, you could feel it prodding your nether regions. One hand snaked into your (h/l) (h/c) hair to keep your lips locked with his, the other hand cupping and rubbing your sex.
You accidentally moaned into the kiss, earning a amused groan from your captor. The man let go of your bruising lips to listen to your cute mewls. His hands sped up, using the base of his palm to rub your clit as one of his thick fingers entered the sex.
He mercilessly pumped the finger, curling and prodding at the spongy spot inside you. Your legs trembled around him, hands sliding up to his shoulder for something sturdy to hold. You hated how pleasurable this felt, you hated how it was him who made you feel like this.
"St-sto-ah-p! I-I-!" He chuckled at your meek attempts, his lips crashing into your neck and biting harshly. "Gah!" You could feel the blood drip down your collar bone before being lapped up. All For One added another finger and scissored around to stretch you out.
You could feel the rumbling of his throat, the tightening and tensing of his muscles, all from your bodily fluids. Your own wounds lightly healing, leaving black and blue bruises in its wake.
He added a third figure, stuffing you full. His palm roughly hit your clit with each intense thrust. Your toes curled, stomach tensing. You could feel your release emerging, and he could tell. "Go on," He moaned. "Don't hold back."
Your legs clamped around his hips as your pleasure reached its peek. Throwing your head back you loudly moaned into the abyss of the dark room. Your release hitting like a truck as you shivered.
All For One laughed as he licked his fingers clean, both groaning from the taste and the pain shooting through his healing body. It was strange how his head tingled and burned as it healed. Arms wrapped tightly around your form, glueing you to his chest as you came down from your high.
As you sunk lower in his lap, sweat face against his chest, you could hear the light echo of his belt buckle being undone. Your pleasure foggy mind didn't follow the sound, only wanting to soak in his warmth and go to sleep. You squirmed around his movements until something hard rubbed your clit.
Hands gripped your hips harshly, lifting you up suddenly just thrust you balls deep onto his hard cock. You screamed and clawed at his shoulders, drawing a small amount of blood.
You never felt so stuffed in your life, his cock pressing in all the right places without giving you any extra room. His head pressed against your crevix, prodding at your womb. Your slick helped ease the pain but his massive size kept you writhing under his grip.
All For One's rigid breath echoed like a dark mantra to your pained squeaks. He lifted you by your hips and slammed you back down.
You strangled out a moan with each deep thrust. The hard cock jabbed your insides to make you see stars, your body warming up to the abuse. You gasped every time his head pushed against your entrance of your womb.
Your breasts bounced, the liquid between your thighs drenching his dress pants, and the friction between your legs riding you closer to the edge of ecstasy. He thrust his hips to meet yours as he lifted you up and kept pushing you back down with feverish force. Each thrust bumped painfully your insides, pushing farther and deeper.
"You're not a virgin are you? Has All Might fucked you like this?" All For One's tone changed from the usual mocking to seething hatred. "Has he marked you like this? Ravaged your cunt until he had you screaming?" He lifted you all the way to his tip and slammed you down hard.
The head of his cock pushed through your crevix and into your womb from his force. You shrieked from the painful feeling, but the sadistic sensation pushed you over the edge.
Your walls clamped tightly around his length and gushed liquid pleasure on his lap. The man loudly groaned when your walls sucked him deeper. He kept going, thrusting and pushing deeper, faster, and stronger.
The liquid from your body twisting his flesh back to its original state. It hurt like hell, you could tell as his large hands crushed your hips like grapes. Fat tears streamed down your reddened cheeks, sobs echoing through the mostly empty room.
All For One's thrusts quickly became sloppy, obviously chasing his own release. "He's been replaced, I'll fill you up and mark you as my own! He'll never see you again, I'll make sure of it!"
Hot ropes of white spilled into your womb effectively making you see stars. Both of you tensed and shook at the force of the orgasm. Your third climax tore into the last of your energy, making you pass out from sheer exhaustion.
All For One released his tight hold on your hips, eyeing your form with a deranged smile. Bruises lined your neck, collarbone, and hips. Your quirk would heal them a bit, but you would need time to allow them to fully heal.
The dangerous man, on the other hand, was healed to the point where he wouldn't need the breathing machine to live. He wasn't healed all the way, that would only happen after a few more sessions, but it was a start.
His gaze fell on your soft features, no longer perturbed by his actions and instead twisted into a delicate serenity. You looked peaceful blissfully unaware of what he had in store for you, not that he minded.
~~~
You shift in your sleep, scrunching your nose at some unknown pain down below. A plush pillow rest below your head, and almost acted like a chain keeping you down. Despite the comfort, you forced yourself to get up. Groaning, you threw off your covers and stretched out like a cat. Wincing from the pain and sitting up in the overly warm and soft bed.
You took the opportunity to soak in your surroundings. The colors were warm, a dresser parallel with a door on the opposite side of the room. Everything looked meticulously placed and expensive. The room was large and had a door off to the side, probably the bathroom, with a pair of sliding doors, most likely a closet, and an archway leading to another room.
You stumbled out of the bed and limped around the room. A mirror on the wall revealed what you looked like. Hickies littered your neck and collarbone, your once broken arm wrapped in bandages to help it heal. A lavender colored nightgown draped just above your still shaky thighs. You winced and lifted it up, more bandages around your bruised hips.
He was rough, that was something you could remember. You probably didn't heal him all the way either, that must be why he kept you alive.
You jumped and turned in the direction of some new noises. Heavy footsteps echoed through the room next over so you peeked behind the archway to see who decided to show up.
All For One slipped off his large dress shoes with his back to you. You could kill him, couldn't you? The man's back was facing you, all you needed was a blade or blunt object. You glanced around the room but found nothing, then again you had the feeling he already knew where and what you were doing.
"How did you sleep, (y/n)?" You swallowed the lump of spit in your throat as you gripped the archway. "Hm?" He peered over his shoulder, the sickening smile that haunted your nightmares stretching across his thin lips. His head was still mangled, but it was now healed into a large, clean scar.
"Why am I here?" You asked.
He turned to fully face you and stepped nearer, his bulky form looming over your frail body like a veil. His hand moved to your cheek, caressing the flesh in an all too intimate act of affection. "I think you already know the answer to that." He mused, dipping to let his lips graze the shell of your ear.
You shivered.
"You're mine."
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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years
Text
By the Sea Part Two
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Mermaid!Reader
Requested: No
Word Count: 2.4K
Warnings: Angst, fluff
Description:  Y/N is a mermaid that longs for the land.  Her friend Natasha tells her that she knows a human who will take care of her and leads her there, she only has one rule: do not under any circumstances fall in love with a human.  But Steve’s friend Bucky is drawing her in, in ways she hadn’t expected.  Will Y/N be able to return to the ocean once her stay in the human realm is complete?  And what happens when Natasha learns that Y/N is betrothed to be married to their king’s son?  Will she drag her friend back or keep her hidden amongst the humans?
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“Natasha!”  Wanda rushed toward her friend, a frantic look in her eyes.  “Y/N’s gone!”
Natasha had been expecting this, she knew as soon as the others woke and discovered that Y/N was no longer in her room that there would be panic amongst them.  “She left,” Natasha responded.  “She left a letter saying that she was going to the human world.”
Wanda gasped, “But why?  Why would she want to go to such an awful place?”
Natasha shrugged, she didn’t share Wanda’s sentiments on the human world.  In fact, she often found herself longing to go back, but knew how cruel the humans could be.  Steve wasn’t like that, he cared for her and helped her, but the village wasn’t big and she didn’t want to run the risk of ever running into the man who had broken her heart again.  “You know how curious she is.  I guess her curiosity got the better of her.”
Pietro came swimming toward them, he had the same frantic look in his eyes as Wanda.  “I just came from King Odin’s palace and told him that Y/N had left, he wasn’t pleased.”
“Of course he wasn’t pleased!” Wanda cried.  “The woman who’s supposed to be marrying his son has up and vanished and now she’s off cavorting with the humans.”  Wanda sat down on a rock and buried her face in her hands.
Natasha’s heart dropped, “Wait she was betrothed to Loki?”
Pietro nodded his head, “Only the court and a few select people knew of the betrothal, Y/N included.  Why would she choose to run off when she was going to be married?”
Natasha glanced in the direction where she had taken Y/N that morning, had this been the reason why she was so eager to go to the human world?  Had she been trying to escape the arranged marriage to the King’s son?
Natasha kept her mouth shut, she wasn’t going to go running to Y/N now.  She was going to let her friend have a few days and then she was going to go and confront her on the true reason why she wanted to leave for the human world.
Morning light filtered in through the crack in the curtains. The brightening room slowly roused Y/N from her sleep and she sat up looking around the room, briefly forgetting where she was.  Once it dawned on her that Natasha had taken her to a man named Steve a bright smile appeared on her face.
She couldn’t believe it, she was actually in the human world.  She had finally done it.  She flopped back against the soft pillows and continued to grin until there was a knock at her door.  “Yes?”  
“Ah good, you’re awake.  I’ve got breakfast laid out for whenever you're ready and try wearing one of the summery dresses that I showed you last night, it’ll be hot today,” he told her, her door staying firmly shut to respect her privacy.
If she had been back home she was sure her friends would just have let themselves in whether she wanted them in the room with her or not.  “Thank you, I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Y/N quickly got up and quickly dressed herself, trying to remember all the things that Steve and Natasha had both mentioned to her.  She found a dress that was simple enough for her to put on by herself and then quickly fixed her hair so that it looked presentable.  She took the stairs by herself, Steve waiting at the bottom just in case she needed him.
He smiled as she took the stairs slowly, but not as shakily as she had the day before.  “You’re getting better,” he complimented.  
“Thank you, I’m still a little uneasy, but it’s not so bad once you get the hang of it.”  Y/N had spent most of the previous night walking back and forth in her room trying to get used to the sensation.  She fell a few more times, but eventually, she felt comfortable enough that she didn’t need to hold onto something like the wall or her bed to stand and walk on her own.
Steve offered Y/N his arm and led her to the dining hall where she had eaten the day before.  The food was much the same and Y/N happily dug into the warm breakfast.  Steve watched her eat for a moment, happy to see that she enjoyed the food that he had prepared for her and then began eating as well.
“After breakfast, if you’re ready then we can go into town and I can show you around and have a few items of clothing made for you,” Steve informed her.  “And I’m sure you’re curious to see other humans besides myself and my friends.”
Y/N agreed and finished her breakfast as fast as she could, eagerly wanting to go into the village with him.  Steve cleared the plates away and told her to wait for him by the front door down the hall and he would be with her momentarily.  She took her time admiring the paintings on the walls and wondering who had made them.  Some were portraits of people while others were landscapes.  She paused in front of one that was of a mermaid sitting on a rock.  Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that it was Natasha.
“I had a friend of mine do that one,” Steve explained as he came to a stop beside her.  “He never saw Natasha, but I was able to describe her to him from her red hair to her green-colored tail.  She hates it of course,” he said with a laugh.
“Does she visit you often?”  Y/N was curious how long they had been friends and if she even still came here.
Steve shook his head sadly, “Not as much as she used to.  The other day when she brought you here was the first time I had seen her in almost a year.  I always hoped that one day she would come back and stay longer, but she grew tired of the human world and wanted to go back home where she belonged.”
Y/N looked up at Steve and could see the loneliness in his eyes.  “Do you love her?”
Steve smiled, “It wouldn’t make a difference if I did or not, she’s made her stance on how feels about love.  I get lonely here by myself and with her around it was nice being with her and having her laughter fill the house.  Since she’s been gone, it’s been too quiet.”
“I think she misses you too,” Y/N said finally.  “Sometimes she looks sad and I think it’s because she misses being here, but I think she’s also too afraid to leave home and have the others misunderstand and judge her for wanting to be on land.”  Y/N knew that her friends could sometimes be judgemental towards the humans, and she knew how they acted when she had wanted to come ashore.  She wondered if Natasha had faced the same kind of scrutiny or if she had kept her desires a secret.
Steve tore his eyes away from the painting, “Let’s head into the village now.  There’s much to see and do.”
Steve offered his arm to Y/N which she took gratefully and the two of them headed out of the house and down the lone path that led to the village.  It took fifteen minutes to get to the village, but Y/N didn’t mind as she took in the tall trees and the colorful birds that darted from branch to branch playing games with one another.  
Even the ground was filled with colorful flowers, their sweet scent filled the air around them.  “It’s noisy here,” she had never heard this much noise before.
“Does that bother you?”  Steve glanced at her to see if she were uncomfortable but instead discovered that she was glancing around with wonder-filled eyes.  It was a whole new world to her and he remembered how Natasha had been much the same when she had first come here.
“No at all,” she responded, her gaze falling on Steve as she gave him a reassuring squeeze.  “It’s nice to be surrounded by noise and not silence or the chattering of my friends.  I never realized how much I hated that silence until now.  How lonely it can be.”
Steve couldn’t imagine what it must be like having to live under the water with little sound to surround you.  He also never noticed the silence either when he would go swimming with Natasha, she had always chatted with him easily when they were under the waves together until he needed to go back up for air.
The village came into view and Y/N could see the crowds walking along the roads together, some stopping at stalls to look at what the vendors were selling.  Steve maneuvered the two of them through the crowds with expert ease and even stopped when Y/N saw something that caught her eye.  They never lingered long though and finally, Steve opened the door to the dress shop that he had planned to bring Y/N to.
A short, older woman came out from the back and smiled when she saw Steve. “Ah Mr. Rogers, it’s nice to see you again, it’s been a while since you graced my shop with your presence.”
Steve walked over and kissed the older woman on both her cheeks, “Alma, it’s wonderful to see you as well.  Let me introduce my friend Y/N, she arrived last night and unfortunately all her luggage was lost.  I was hoping you had some things for her to wear.”
“Of course!”  The woman, Alma, walked over and took Y/N by the hand and led her toward the back where she had come from.  “You’re in good hands dearie, Mr. Rogers as always you can wait here or you can go enjoy the village.  We’re getting ready for the summer festival at the end of the month just like always,” she explained that bit to you.  “Always a lively time around here when the festival is in full swing.”
“Is it that time already?”  Steve hadn’t realized how much time had seemed to have passed.  He rarely came into the village unless it was absolutely necessary.
Alma chuckled, “Always lost in those books of yours, Mr. Rogers.  Go and have some fun while you’re here.  I’ll take good care of Miss Y/N for you.”
Before he knew it Alma had whisked Y/N away to the back and began showing her dress after dress.  She tried on several until they came to one that made Alma paused.  “What is it?”  Y/N asked worriedly.  “Is there something wrong?”
Alma smiled reassuringly, “Nothing’s wrong, dearie.  It’s just that dress would be perfect for the summer solstice in a few weeks, that is if you’ll still be here.”
Y/N chewed on her lip as she smoothed down the material of the dress, “I don’t know how long I’ll be staying.  But I hope to see this festival at least before I have to go.”
Alma patted her cheek, “Let’s go see if Mr. Rogers is here and if he approves of your dress.”  Alma helped Y/N off the little stool she had been standing on and led her back out to the front of the store where Steve was standing and talking with another man.  “Ah Mr. Barnes, what a lovely surprise.”
Y/N looked up and saw that it was the same man from the previous night, their eyes locked and for a second it seemed as if her heart had stopped in her chest and she couldn’t breathe as he smiled at her.  His eyes never left her face as he said, “He did and I followed him back here to meet his friend.”
Y/N managed to tear her eyes away from the man and toward Steve who was glancing between the two of them.  “Steve, Alma said that this dress would be perfect for the summer solstice festival and we came to get your opinion.”  She managed to find her voice, wanting to distract herself from the handsome man that was Mr. Barnes. 
“I think it’s an excellent choice for the summer solstice.  Don’t you agree, Bucky?”  Steve arched an eyebrow and glanced at his friend.
A soft blush rose to Bucky’s cheeks and he cleared his throat, “I agree.  It’s a perfect choice for the festivities.”
“We’ll take it, Alma,” Steve said.  “And anything else Y/N liked.”
“Come along, dearie, let’s get you changed and bag up the clothes for you.”  Alma and Y/N disappeared into the back and quickly gathered up the articles of clothing.  “Take good care of her, Mr. Rogers.  This one’s special,” Alma patted his cheek as she handed off the bags filled with garments.
“Alma, I do believe she bought everything you’ve ever made,” Steve joked as the bags of clothes weighed him down.  “I’ll need to take these home straight away.  I’m sorry our trip into the village wasn’t as long as we had planned, Y/N.”
Y/N went to say her time was lovely when Bucky said, “I can show her around.”  Y/N and Steve both paused and looked at him.  “And before you ask, it’s no trouble at all.”
Steve looked back at Y/N, a little apprehensive about leaving her.  He knew Bucky was trustworthy, but he was afraid that Natasha might smack him if she found out that on her second day in the human world he had allowed her friend to go off with a relative stranger.  “Only if Y/N is comfortable with it,” Steve said finally.
All eyes were back on Y/N and her mouth opened slightly, should she stay with Bucky and let him show her around.  “It’s fine, Steve.  Bucky knows the way back to your home, and I’ll be back before dinner.”
Steve was still warring with the idea of leaving her alone, but knew that he couldn’t say much without revealing why he was being so protective over her.  “I’ll see you tonight then.”  He squared his shoulders and disappeared into the busy street.
Bucky offered his arm to her, “Shall we?”
She slowly looped her arm through his and let him lead her away from the dress shop and into the unknown.
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Till the sun Dies Aragorn x plus size!reader
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Aragorn sighed, watching the people before him dance. If one more princess or duchess asked him to dance, he was sure to stab someone with the blade that was always strapped to his side. He hated this side to ruling, he was much better out on the battlefield than in a ballroom. This was due to Elrond’s insistence to “Find a queen”. The elf was very insistent to a point of offering Arwen’s hand to prove the point but Aragorn declined. If he was to find a queen it would not be to someone who practically raised him or an arranged marriage, he insisted to have it happen with someone he loved. 
Only problem? Aragorn was not in love with anyone and Elrond was so damn pushy, Aragorn threw a party. So now he was in a room with stifling rich women who wanted to marry him. Aragorn just sat on his throne looking very annoyed with this entire ordeal. “excuse me, your highness?” A voice asked. He looked over, keeping the annoyed face making the servant jump back slightly. “Would.. You like more wine sire?” the girl asked. “...Yes. please the one from last week was nice.” He said. She gulped. “The...Cook said it does not go with the dish sire. He wouldn’t allow it.” She said. Aragorn rose a brow. “Then bring me something very strong.” He said. The servant still didn’t move. “...Lord Elrond forbid us from serving anything like that and...” She seemed to shake. “Katerina, it is only me. Tell me the rest.” Aragorn said softer. “It- it’s not you I’m afraid of sire its the chef.” She muttered. “He’s that bad?” Aragorn asked. “He’s terrifying!” she yelped. Aragorn blinked, leaning off of the throne.
 “Take me to him.” He said. “What?” Katerina asked. “Staff within these walls should not be afraid of one another. Take me to this man.” Aragorn said. She walked off with him, walking through the halls to the kitchen. 
“ARE YOU STUPID? DO YOU NOT COMPREHEND WHAT I HAVE JUST TOLD YOU!?” A voice yelled. You looked over at the poor boy who was at the end of the yelling. “No-no sir I understood but we don’t have--” “THEN. GO. OUT. AND. BUY. IT.” The chef said. You continued cutting potatoes, silent as you looked at Katerina who was shaking in the doorway next to a figure. You dropped your potato before you could see a face, it rolling and hitting the person’s boot. They leaned down, picking it up. “Thank you-” You looked up, gulping. “Sire.” you breathed. Aragorn paused, looking in your eyes. 
By the Valar... You were beautiful. Your eyes, your hair- everything was gorgeous. “Oy, fat oaf. Over here, now.” The chef said. You turned around, looking at him. “the king is here sir.” you said, voice shaking slightly. Gods, your voice was nice to hear as well. “What did you just call this woman?” Aragorn asked. “Sire it’s fine-” “No, it is not.” Aragorn said, walking forward. “If I hear talks of you screaming at any of the staff within these walls, I will personally remove you. Am I clear?” Aragorn asked. Katerina leaned over whispering in your ear. “He looks great doing that, doesn’t he?” She said. You looked at Aragorn, his face stern but his eyes gentle. “...Don’t be ridiculous, that is our king.” you muttered, looking down. You expected Gavin (The chef) to back down, after all the king had told him to stop. 
Instead the man pointed a wooden spoon to him. “You eat my food, which you all seem to enjoy and you tell me how to operate MY KITCHEN!?” He snapped. You all backed away from the two men. Aragorn looked down at the wooden spoon. “Sorry, would you like to be personally booted from the premises or would you like a guard to handle it?” Aragorn asked. “You do not remove anyone!” Gavin huffed, still waving the spoon. Aragorn gripped it, snapping the spoon from its small hilt. “Try waving it now, I think you could so magic if you wave hard enough.” Aragorn said. You resisted a snort. “I QUIT!” Gavin screamed. “Goodbye.” Aragorn said as the man shoved passed him. 
“Now... Who else here cooks?” Aragorn asked. No show of hands. “...None of you cook?” He asked. “He wouldn’t allow us to actually cook. We more.. Cut things and cleaned.” A servant answered. “Allow me to rephrase this... Who here can cook?” He asked. Katerina pointed to you. “Kat!” you said, pulling her hand down. “She can cook sire, I’ve eaten food in her home... It’s quite tasty!” She said. “...I trust your judgement, what is your name?” Aragorn asked. “Y/n.” you answered. “Great. You’re in charge of the kitchens as chef.” He said. “I’m what--” “Now as the chef, I ask that you point the direction of the ale.” He said. “...I wish I could sire but sir Elrond locked the cabinet the barrels are in.” you admitted. Aragorn grit his teeth. “That thorough little shit.” he huffed. 
A man handed him a flask. “Kept it because Gavin’s voice got tiring enough.” The stable boy said. “You are a friend to all tonight.” The king said, downing the entire flask in one go. “Thank you.” Aragorn said, walking out. “...Did the King just empty your flask?” A man asked. “...Yes he did.” The stable boy nodded.
the night ended after three more hours, Aragorn not even getting a buzz. Damn his increased tolerance for alcohol. He did feel terrible though from all the drinking, him going to the kitchens late in the night. He walked in, running his hand over his beard as he sat on a stool before hearing a thud. “Ow- By the nine worlds- how many damn apples did Gavin shove in here!?” You asked as another one pelted your head. You sighed, brushing your apron before seeing the king. You bowed, him holding his hand up as if to indicate a “Stop.” You immediately rose. “Tis very late for you to be here Lady Y/n.” He said. “I.. Well this new promotion has me very confused. Gavin would only let us go to certain areas of the kitchen, I’m trying to be well acquainted with it.” You admitted. “And you discovered the cabinet of fruit?” he asked, noticing the mess of apples on the floor. “No sir... Just apples.” You answered. Aragorn rose a brow, walking over to the cabinet.
You weren’t joking. There had to have been at least four hundred apples shoved in the cabinet. “...How in the hell was that even possible?” He asked. “I have no idea...” you admitted. He looked over at you, raising a brow. “How long have you worked here?” He asked. “...My whole life.” You answered. He nodded. “I started as a servant girl. More of a maid for Denethor.” You explained. “What landed you in here?” Aragorn asked. “I eventually became more of an errand girl... Which Denethor tended to eat a lot of food. Until eventually I came to the kitchen so often I ended up working here.” You said. Aragorn nodded. “Why don’t you go home? It is late and you need the rest.” Aragorn said. You shuffled a little. “I do not dare to walk through the woods at night sire.” you said. He rose a brow. “You live in the woods?” he asked. “Yes sire, in a cottage.” you said. 
He looked at you up and down. “Do you have a place to stay for the night?” He asked. “I tend to sleep in the stables on late nights.” you said. He frowned. “No lady should sleep in a stable.” He said. “Sire, I’m not a lady I’m a servant.” you corrected. “Any woman, even if a servant, is a lady in my eyes.” he said. You said nothing, looking down. “did you come here for something sire?” you asked. “Oh... Water.” he answered. You nodded, walking away. “I can get it myself-” “Sire it is my job.” you said. “Are you always this insistent?” he asked. “I...” you sighed. “I need to keep my hands busy sire. When I don’t I tend to bother myself with dreadful thoughts.” you muttered. He nodded. “I understand how that feels.” He muttered. “You do?” You asked. “I have witnessed a lot of gruesome things outside and within these walls... They tend to really haunt the mind.” He explained. You nodded with a sad look in your eyes.
You said nothing more, drawing water from a bucket and putting it into a cup. Aragorn took it, looking at you. “Y/n..” He said. You turned around confused. “Did Denethor treat you well?” He asked. You looked down. “Sire, you are the first of royalty to treat me with kindness outside of Faramir and..” you swallowed. It registered who else walked these halls. “You knew Boromir?” He asked. “Yes.” you said, a reminiscing smile on your lips. “Faramir and Boromir were almost like brothers to me.” You said. Aragorn nodded. “Boromir was a good man.” He said. “He was kind to me... Meanwhile Denethor usually called me..” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “A oafish pig.” you said. Aragorn really didn’t like hearing this. 
“Y/n, you are by no means ‘oafish’ or a ‘pig’.” Aragorn said. You looked at him with a confused look. “Why do you do that?” you asked. “Do what?” he asked. “You’re being unusually nice to me. I am just a servant, nothing more.” You said. “Every person deserves to be treated with respect until proven otherwise.” Aragorn said simply. “But-” “Y/n, are you usually this reluctant to people?” He asked. “...Yes.” you said. He chuckled. “I should go.” You muttered. “Right! I suspect you know where the guest chambers are?” He asked. “...Sire, those are occupied.” you said. “...By whom?” he asked. “Lord Faramir.” You said, leaving out the second guest. “I see... Which probably means Eowyn is with him.” Aragorn nodded. You blinked. “You... Are aware of the relationship?” You asked. “Of course I am, I introduced them.” He said. You blinked. “You did?” You asked. 
“Oh yes. I’m rather good with other peoples love lives.” He said. You noticed how he worded that. “But not your own?” you asked, without thinking. He blinked a couple of times, you retreating back. “I didn’t- I am so sorry--” he laughed. “No my own love life is... Well it’s messy.” He chuckled. You sighed with relief. “What of you lady Y/n?” He asked. “My love life is nonexistent.” you said, looking slightly disappointed by your own answer. “Really?” He asked, looking at you. You were a beautiful maiden, it surprised him that you never had any love interest. “When you look like this no one really...” you sighed. “Y/n, you’re beautiful, what are you talking about?” Aragorn asked without thinking. 
You swallowed, looking at the man. “Do you not think yourself to be a fair maiden?” He asked. You shook your head. “I... My whole life I’ve been told otherwise.” you admitted. “Y/n...” Aragorn seemed saddened by your answer. You cleared your throat. “you... Y/n, you can sleep in my quarters tonight.” He said. You blinked. “What?” You asked. “You can sleep--” “sire I couldn’t--” “Y/n, I will sleep in a chair-” “Sire no! I should be the one to sleep in a chair!” “So you’ll do it then! Great.” He nodded. “Wait I didn’t mean- Sire!”
Thus leading to you standing in the man’s quarters as he stood behind a partition changing. You looked around at the walls, them being of stone. Then you saw a sword on the mantle of the fireplace. You had heard the tale of  Andúril. How it broke off in the first battle for the ring when Isildur owned it. Now it was rebuilt, on display in front of you. 
“Do you like blades Lady Y/n?” Aragorn asked, standing behind you. You jumped, swallowing hard. “I am... More of a bow woman. Easier to hunt with for me.” you said. He rose a brow. “You enjoy hunting?” He asked. “Yes sire. It calms my nerves.” You said. “I take it you have the proper protection when you hunt in the forest?” He asked. You shrugged. “I make it actually.” you admitted. “You make armor?” He asked. You flushed with embarrassment. “I have to...” you muttered. “Why?” He asked. You shifted and he rose a brow. “...no one really makes it in my size.” you muttered. He blinked. “Armor is typically catered to those of...” you cleared your throat. “Of a thinner figure than mine.” you said, right now feeling uncomfortable. He looked at you. “Why are you embarrassed to have such an impressive skill?” He asked. “I’m embarrassed because of the reason I’ve gained the skill.” you said. He hated seeing you tear yourself down like that. “You’re an impressive woman Y/n, make no mistake.” He said. You looked up at him. “...thank you sire.” You said softly.
you slept in a chair, a blanket over you as you did. It must’ve been before sunrise when you heard Aragorn’s mutters. You opened your eyes, adjusting to the lack of light when you saw him. “No... NO!” he yelled, leaning up. You sat up, confused. He clutched his chest, panting like a madman. “Sire?” You asked, your voice soft. He looked over, sighing. “I woke you. I’m sorry.” He muttered. You got up, kneeling beside his bed. “You didn’t wake me.” You assured. In a half asleep state, he leaned onto you, his head landing on your shoulder. You jumped slightly. “I could hear them screaming...” Aragorn muttered. “Who?” You asked softly. “The men...From... Helm’s Deep..” He muttered, you feeling tears fall. You subconsciously started stroking his head gently. “I let them die.” He whimpered. “You saved us all... In more ways than one...” you said softly. He clung to you, your heart pounding. “Please... Stay with me.” He whispered. Your arms slowly wrapped around him. “I’m not leaving sire...” You said softly. 
The morning sun was creeping and Aragorn woke up, his arms cuddling something. He figured, from the way he usually slept it was a pillow. But then he noticed when he moved his hand it felt like hair. Wait... He leaned up to see you sleeping next to him. He paused, trying to remember what happened. He recalled awaking in the night, he remembered waking you.... What was he... Oh
You soothed him back to sleep. He asked you to stay. He wondered how he should go about this? Should he wake you? You were up pretty late and honestly it’d be rude to wake you just so you’d leave. Should he not move? Well that wouldn’t work, he had a meeting with Elrond today. Should he just go? Maybe he should leave a note so you wouldn’t be completely confused. That seemed logical... Right? OH FOR VALAR’S SAKE YOU WERE A SERVANT. NOT A LOVER, THIS SHOULDN’T BE THAT HARD.
You let out a small groan before leaning up. He didn’t move and you gasped, realizing that he was looking dead at you. You yanked back, falling off the bed and alarming Aragorn in the process. “I AM SO SORRY YOUR HIGHNESS!” You yelped, moving back and hitting the dresser behind you. “Y/n! It’s fine, I should apologize for making you sleep here with me!” He said. “N-no I shouldn’t have even been here-- Oh by the nine-- WHAT TIME IS IT!?” You asked. “Y/n... You’re the head of the kitchens now, you make the times for your own job.” He reminded. “NO LORD ELROND SPECIFICALLY WANTED ME AWAKE AT SUNRISE! SHIT!” You said, putting on your shoes and hopping around on one foot as you tried to put the other one on. “Y/n, I will explain to him what happen, he will understand” Aragorn said calmly. “I didn’t even hunt for you today! Gah!” you yelled before knocking into a mop bucket. Aragorn stood up, helping you up. “Annndd now I’m wet, this is PERFECT.” you whined. 
“Y/n. Breathe. Calm down. We will hunt together.” He said. “...We will?” You asked. “I don’t just go to war Y/n, I was a ranger of Gondor before I was king.” He said. You sighed. “I need to go home then...” you said. “I’ll go with you. You’re technically awake at sunrise by the way. The sun is still rising..” He said. You sighed and nodded. “I’ll warn you now... My home is not much.” you muttered. “My home was a hollowed out tree for a year. I do not care where you live as long as it’s safe for you.” he said simply. 
And there you were, walking a woodland path with Aragorn. “You take this path everyday?” he asked, ducking under branches as he walked. “Everyday.” You nodded, stepping over a log. You carefully stepped onto stones before you untied your apron and walked to a small cottage. At first glance, many would have thought that your home was a forge. You walked in, a cat looking up from a chair. You sighed, as Aragorn stepped in behind you. Blueprints were scattered around on a desk by a window for armor. He noticed you walk into a room he presumed to be your bedroom and turned around looking at the rest of your home. He saw your kitchen, it being small but perfect for one person. He saw your messy desk, he saw gardening tools around. He looked out the window and saw a small but well kept garden. He saw near your desk books on the floors, some to do with smithing, others on atlases and the world. He noticed though, the entire separate stack next to the atlases. It was a whole stack of history books and papers with scribblings tucked between the books. There were also language books... Were you trying to learn elvish?
“you really like reading don’t you?” Aragorn asked. “Oh! Yes I do.” You answered from your room. “ Care- tye quet- eldarin? (Do you speak elvish?)” He asked. “ Ni care-! Quite fluentlime actuallime. (I do! Quite fluently actually.)” You answered. You looked up, realizing that he asked you in elvish. “ Tye quet- eldarin sire? (You speak elvish sire?)” You asked. “ Héru elrond raised me an yen. (Lord Elrond raised me for year.)” He said, petting the cat. You walked out in leather armor and a bow. The bow caught his eye. There were small pictures engraved on the bow. They were very detailed, making him shocked that someone could make such small images that beautiful. “Did you do those?” He asked. “Oh... yes I carve pictures into it when I’m bored at home.” you admitted as you opened a cabinet next to your desk. You pulled a dagger from it, putting it into a small sheathe. 
You seemed relatively focused when you were hunting. You were very quiet, very careful and very set on finding what you wanted. Aragorn let you take the lead, watching you step forward. You locked onto something, hooking your arrow to the string and pulling back. You sucked in a breath, looking at a deer before releasing the arrow. You quickly fired two more arrows and killed it, walking over to it. “You have good aim.” Aragorn said. “Thank you.” you said, beginning the process of getting the meat. You heard a noise though and looked up. “You remind me of Legolas--” “Shhh.” you hushed. Another noise, along with heavy breathing. You rose, slowly. “Crap.” you breathed. 
Aragorn followed your eyes to what worried you. A bear. A very big, very angry looking bear. You stepped back Aragorn drawing his sword. You hooked another arrow to your string, locking eyes with it and watching as it let out a loud roar on its hindlegs. You fired, hitting its jaw. You looked over at Aragorn who was very much prepared to attack and watched as he leapt forward, striking the bear. You aimed again, hitting the shoulder of the bear before it seemed to really be annoyed with Aragorn, tackling him to the ground. “Aragorn!” you gasped. “ONE LAST ARROW!” “I don’t have a clear shot!” you breathed. “DO IT ANYWAY!” He yelled. You nodded, trying to avoid hitting Aragorn. You were amazed by your own aim as you shot the bear, it ceasing movement. Aragorn pushed the bear off of him and stood up. 
“Sire are you--” “You have got to meet Legolas, he would love you.” Aragorn chuckled. You looked at him worried. “Y/n?” He asked. “You could’ve gotten hurt you dolt! What were you thinking, charging into a fucking bear like that!?” you asked. He blinked, noticing the change in your personality.  “...Sorry for worrying you Y/n.” He said. you covered your mouth reminding yourself who you were speaking with. “I’m sorry I-I don’t know what came over me your highness--” “Y/n, It is fine. I want you to address me like a friend.” He said. “...why?” you asked. “I would say we’re friends. I mean, I do not share my bed with acquaintances.” He said. "I... I still should not have snapped..." You said. "I worried you Y/n. It's fine." He said sincerely. You sighed, saying nothing but walking over and collecting the deer meat and walking back. Aragorn followed, noticing figures in the woods. He wasn't sure if the figures were people or animals, seeing them all around him.
"Y/n are you aware of the figures in the woods?" He asked. You nodded. "That would be the fades." You said nonchalantly. "Fades? Like... Ghosts?" He asked. "Didn't you charge with the dead?" You asked. "Yes, I'm not afraid I'm merely walking with caution." He said. You snorted, laughing at the man's refusal to admit he was scared. He smiled, hearing your laugh. "It's alright to admit they scare you your highness." You said. He watched you turn around and time seemed to stop.
You had this beautiful smile, the breeze blowing your hair and his heart pounded in his ears. He swore for a moment he had seen a painting similar to you. That or you had to have been directly from a painting. Either way? You were gorgeous. 
Weeks had passed, you usually finding Aragorn in the kitchens. He actually would end up doing tasks himself, washing dishes, peeling foods, cleaning around the areas. The kitchen staff (except you) could tell why he was there. And the reason was out tonight. “Where is Y/n?” Aragorn asked, confused. “Sick... Katerina is actually very worried, the woman couldn’t even move this morning.” A man answered. He pondered. He knew you said the woods were dangerous at night but if your safety was at a risk... “fuck it.” He thought to himself, going to the stables.
He rode down the path you took, understanding just what you meant when you said it was dangerous. Fades were practically everywhere. Truth be told when he met the King of the dead, he was deeply unsettled by him but kept it to himself because thousands of lives were at stake. Aragorn finally reached your home, opening the door to find Katerina pacing. She looked over and froze. “King Aragorn what--” “Where is she?” He asked. She pointed to your room and he walked in, seeing you unconscious. “What are her symptoms?” He asked. “She’s running a fever, can’t keep any food or water down and she’s been dry heaving when she wakes up.” Katerina answered. Problem number one was the being unable to keep water down. “does she keep herbs around?” he asked. “Like cooking?” Katerina asked. Aragorn sighed. “OH! Medicinal herbs? Yes, in her closet over there on a shelf.” She realized. He opened the door and found various tools in the closet, it being lined with shelves with labeled jars and various potion like things. A book sat in the corner labeled “Discovered Remedies”. Out of both desperation and curiosity he opened it, reading it. He found that you seemed very well versed in remedies for things like a common cold and even stumbled across remedies for poison. Nothing though for what he was seeing. 
He thought to himself what would help and reached an answer. “Elvish medicine.” He realized. “There is an elven encampment nearby.” Katerina said. “There is?” He asked. “Yes, two miles west from here.” She said. He nodded, walking out. “You’re not going out there at night!” She gaped. “Y/n needs help.” He said before leaving. You whimpered, feeling unbearably warm. “Y/n, the king has gone to get help..” Katerina soothed. “Ara...Aragorn..” you muttered in a barely lucid state. She held you close, wiping the sweat off of your forehead with a wet cloth. “I don’t care what anyone says... That man loves you.” she muttered. “Love...” you muttered, trying to speak. “Shhh.” Katerina said. “Love...” you uttered again. “Y/n, this can’t be healthy to push yourself.” Katerina said softly. “I... Love... him.” you muttered. Katerina paused. “The King?” She asked. “y...yes.” you coughed out. She looked at you and then smiled. “Oh I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear.” she muttered. 
Aragorn rode through the forest, going as fast as he could. He found the encampment rather quickly, seeing the elves eating around a fire. He dismounted, running over. They all drew weapons but he raised his hands. “ Ni maure help. Mime nur na- laiva, se pole-'t get better  (I need help. My friend is sick, she can't get better.)” He said. They looked at him up and down. “ Sina nur, does se cui- -esse i cottage atta miles au-? (This friend, does she live in the cottage two miles away?)” An elven woman asked. “yes.” He nodded. They all seemed alarmed. “We will help.” she nodded. 
You seemed to be getting worse, your temperature getting to a very concerning point. Katerina was trying to keep calm, waiting on someone to come back. She started thanking Gods when the front door shot open, two elves walking in. “Lift her head.” one of them said. She lifted your head slowly, you whining in pain. One of them opened your mouth, forcing some sort of elixir down your mouth. You coughed but kept it down. “That should subside the vomiting. Get her some water.” The elf told the other elf. The elven woman ran and came back with water. “Now, miss Katerina... We’re going to ask you to hold her down” He said. she blinked. “Why?” She asked. “We know she’s not going to react well to the potion, most actually fight us out of it.” The elven woman said. Katerina reluctantly held down your arms. 
They put something in your mouth that made you fight against them and Katerina had trouble holding you back from trying to get it out of your mouth. “Y/n, calm down, please we’re trying to help!” Katerina said. Eventually you calmed down, the sweating and fever dying down by sunrise. Katerina left you with Aragorn, him watching over you from a chair next to your bed. You woke up around sunrise, seeing Aragorn asleep with your cat in his lap. You weren’t entirely sure if this was a dream or not. It had to have been right? For him to be here? 
He felt someone staring, opening his eyes to see you yawning. “You’re awake” He said relieved. “When did I even come home?” You asked quietly. “You don’t remember coming home?” He asked. “No... I just remember feeling warm... Now I’m cold.” you shivered. He wrapped his cloak around you, feeling your forehead. “The fever has died down.” He said. He allowed his hand to drift to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. You knew now this was no dream. By feeling his touch you were now wide awake. “S-sire, what are you doing here?” You asked. He looked down. “Y/n, I noticed you were gone one night. Someone in my staff told me you were sick, why didn’t you mention anything?” He asked. You sighed, “Because I didn’t want to get in the way. Sire, I’ve become a large part in your daily life these past weeks, I didn’t want you to deal with.. with this!” you said. “Y/n, you pushed yourself past the need for human medicine if it hadn’t been for the elves, you would have died.” He said. you shook your head. “I do not need you here taking care of me sire, that is my job for you! Don’t you see that our dynamic isn’t normal!?” “Stop calling me Sire!” “Do you not hear yourself? This is not normal for me to be this close to you!” “Do you wish to be close to me Y/n?” He asked. You sighed. “this isn’t about what I want-” “As your king I am asking you: What do you want?” Aragorn asked. 
Your heart pounded in your ears. “...You.” you responded, heart still going. “I’m right here Y/n and if you’ll allow it I will be all yours.” He whispered, very close to your face. You stopped him though looking down. He paused, looking into your eyes. “We can’t. You’re... You’re a king and I’m just your servant, I cannot be your queen. My status isn’t even wealthy.” You muttered. He shook his head. “I do not care for titles or wealth and last I checked, I was king.” Aragorn said. “...Lord Elrond would not allow this.” You said. “Lord Elrond does not Rule Gondor.” Aragorn reminded. “Aragorn. Talk to him first, then we will talk.” was all you told him.
Aragorn sighed now, sitting on the throne as Elrond droned on and on. “Then there is still the matter of finding you a wife-” “I have a suggestion.” Aragorn said. “Oh! Thank the Valar, you’ve found a suitable maiden!” Elrond said relieved. You seemed to have walked in just in time, handing Aragorn a cup of water. He took it, staring at you. You avoided his gaze, in fact you had been avoiding him all week. “Her.” Aragorn said. “Who? The servant?” Elrond asked. “Yes. Her.” Aragorn said. You looked up, freezing in place. “She’s very talented, well versed in history, makes maps, weapons and armor, she grows her own food, she speaks elvish, she’s practically a diplomat in the making she just doesn’t hold the title.” Aragorn said. Elrond looked at you. “Are the things he is saying true?” Elrond asked. “Yes my lord.” you nodded, looking at Aragorn confused. “... Then I cannot stop you.” Elrond said. Was this man happy that this was a servant becoming queen? No. But Aragorn was practically the man’s son and he saw the way that he looked at you. 
“What is going on your highness?” You asked confused. “I’m officially asking for your hand.” Aragorn said. You nearly dropped the empty cup you were holding with wide eyes. “Your highness you must be joking.” you said. “I am not. You said to speak with him, I’ve spoken with him. He approves and you are right in front of me. Could you please drop the stubbornness for one moment to tell me how you feel?” Aragorn asked. You gulped. “This is madness.” you said, Aragorn standing in front of you, setting the cup in your hands on a small table next to the throne. “I must be crazy or-or still recovering or-” “Y/n do you accept?” Aragorn asked. You nodded before Aragorn smiled. “I do- I accept--” His lips crashed onto yours, you smiling as he held you to him. 
Were people shocked to hear that a servant sat on the throne now? Yes. Were they even more shocked that it was Aragorn’s suggestion to marry you? Again, yes. But were you two happy? Oh hell yes. Aragorn and you would go on horseback rides through the lands, you smiling at your husband. You had one simple thought each time you looked at Aragorn as well.
“I will love you until the sun dies.”
This was a request from @snailcoveredcottage​ I hope you enjoyed it!
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kalle-and-lita · 3 years
Text
My half of the art trade with @tagedeszorns featuring their OC Doriel. I can't even begin to tell you how much of a joy it was to work with the mun and their muse!
~~
Lita cast a furtive glance down the long halls of the palace. It was so quiet she could hear the beat of her heart thunder in her ears. Perhaps it was because she was leaving work so close to curfew. Only the foolish would dare to walk the empty streets lest they incur the wrath of the Night Haunter.
Maybe it was the fear of her mistress, whose rage was easily incited these days. Several members of the staff had already gone missing. Lita wasn't fool enough to believe they had just left.
Or perhaps, her nervousness was due to the large platter of food she clutched to. Taking food, even uneaten, was akin to stealing from the barons. If she was caught she'd be killed without a second thought.
But she was on a mission, and she would not be deterred. So Lita steeled her nerves and made her escape as quiet as she could. Every step was carefully planned, every corner scrutinized until she was sure she was safe and alone. She didn't breathe easy until she passed through the servants entrance and out onto the streets.
There was the faintest drizzle pouring from the sky. A cacophony of lights twinkled in the perpetual dark, reflecting off dirty glass windows and pools of stagnant water in the broken streets. Above the familiar hum of the city Lita noted the blessed silence. No screaming, no gunfire. Orderly silence since the whispers had begun.
Whispers of a silent stalker in the night. A savior to the weak who suffered beneath the heel of the barons and their crime lords. Night Haunter they called him, and his was a name revered with fear and awe. Rumors persisted of his speed, his ferocity. While she had not seen his handiwork for herself, Lita knew the tales of the flayed criminals he left out as warning. To take caution because if you caught his gaze there would be no one to save you from him.
Lita's reverie was broken by the sound of shoes scuffing cobblestone. Just like the nights before they came out of the shadows like pale little spirits. Four in total with the youngest looking no older than five or six. The oldest approached first, crossing the street once he was sure they were all alone. He was strange for a Nostromon; his hair was the color of a fire blazing away in the adamantium furnaces. Though he still possessed the pallid complexion and the hardened, steel black gaze of his kin.
"Hello," Lita smiled, "I'm glad you boys are safe. I brought the good stuff from the kitchen."
The redhead eyed her sharply, a frown etched into his features. The smaller shadows of his gang pressed at his back threateningly,
"Ah," Lita warned, waving a scolding finger at them, "Unless you want to go back to eating garbage and refuse I suggest you play nice."
"Fuck off." The redhead snapped over his shoulder. His mates backed off, though they still possessed a hungry look in their eyes. Sure that they weren't going to cause trouble, the young boy turned back to her, "What you want for it?"
"We have this conversation every time." She sighed, she popped the lid off one of the bowls of food. A hearty, and savoury aroma filled the air. If the boys looked hungry before they were absolutely ravenous now. "I don't want anything more than the satisfaction of you boys being well fed."
The redhead shot her a venomous glare, "I still say it's bullshit. Ain't nobody that nice."
"So you don't want the food then?" She teased, the younger kids hissed at their leader,
"Shut up, Doriel, before you ruin it!" One hissed. The young boy, Doriel, scowled right back,
"I ain't ruining shit! Look, bitch, just hand over the food and we'll get out of your hair."
Lita chuckled but pointedly ignored Doriel's rather colorful language. The large bowl of stew was all but yanked from her hands and she happily watched as the children ate. More than once the young redheaded boy thumped one of his mates on the shoulder, a silent admonishment for taking more than a fair share.
And they scampered off just as quick as they came with Doriel offering a cursory glance back at her. She nodded a farewell and tossed the now empty bowl, all too eager to navigate the eerie streets of the upper districts. Her feet pounded against hard stone as she ran, a desperate bid to get to the shops before curfew descended upon her. 
Luck was not completely on her side tonight, however. Lita cringed as the shop door slammed shut behind her and locked tight. Lights flickered off, leaving her alone on the dark sidewalk. Her gaze flickered to the shadowy corners around her, their long tendrils closing in on her.
She didn't make it a habit to be out past curfew. A nervous tension settled in her belly as she set off for home. Her footsteps echoed loudly, bouncing off the high buildings ominously. Each passing minute was like agony, the eerie silence fraying at her nerves until there was a burning itch between her shoulder blades.
Lita tensed at the feeling.
She was no stranger to this sensation of being watched. Years of service to the barons, and even her years on the streets, had refined her sense of awareness. All the better to know when to run or hide.
But this was not the first night she felt the piercing gaze of the unknown stalker's eyes. For weeks she walked home with the proverbial dagger aimed at her back, ever nervous for an attack that had yet to come.
Lita turned a sharp corner in an effort to evade her stalker. A stupid idea to turn into the pitch black of the alleyway, but she knew it to be a shortcut home and she was desperate. Her heart thundered away in her ears even as her footsteps echoed on the walls. Save for the drizzling of the rain there was nary a sound above the hum of quiet.
Then, just behind her, she heard something hit the ground. If she hadn't been listening so keenly she wouldn't have heard it. Lita froze with a gasp, a chill ran down her spine and the burn in her shoulder blades grew hot. There was a presence at her back, she could feel its hot breath on her neck.
Against her better judgement she turned to look, oh so slowly spinning on her heels. She came face to face with a monstrously large Nostromon man, the pitch black of his eyes drawing her in. His thin strands of black hair stuck to his face, and fell over his shoulders as he sat nearly hunched over her. Lita blinked dumbly, mouth agape in terror.
All at once her sense of self preservation kicked in as a smile crossed his face. A set of wicked sharp teeth gleamed at her and the fear in her gut rose well past the point of control.
So Lita did what any normal person would do and panicked. And in her panic she did the very first thing that sprang to mind, and she threw her grocery bags at him. She didn't bother to stick around to see his reaction. She was far too interested in running as fast her poor legs could carry her.
And she didn't stop running until she was safely back in her apartment. The keys clattered to the floor and her back hit the door. Her lungs burned and her legs gave out, and Lita hit the ground with a hard thud while her mind tried to wrap around what just happened.
He'd been so quiet. That thought scared her more than she cared to admit. How was it possible that someone so large could be so silent?! And she was fairly certain that the only reason she'd known he was there was because he let her see him.
Just who was he? Why was he following her?
Cold realization hit her hard as she came down from her adrenal high. The whispered tales of the few who'd seen the Night Haunter and lived. Of the man draped in shadow and blood, larger than life who took no qualms in spilling the blood of the guilty.
"Oh gods," Lita's hands flew to her mouth, "Oh gods!"
And she had just hit him.
In the face.
With her grocery bags!
She sprang to her feet and ran to check her windows, futile as it seemed. If the Night Haunter wanted to get to her windows were not going to stop him. For the better part of an hour she paced the confines of her apartment, awaiting retribution despite her own perceived innocence. Fixated on the fact that she had thrown her food at the Night Haunter in blind panic.
Lita resented the fact that if she was going to die, she was going to do so hungry.
The burn eventually came back. Fear turned to trepidation as she paused at her living room window. The balcony was empty, wet with the rain. She took a few deep breaths before she opened the sliding glass door. Before she could second guess herself she leaned onto the railing and took another deep breath.
"I'm sorry!" She shouted into the night. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. "I swear I didn't know it was you. I wouldn't have hit you if I had. I'm so sorry!"
A long moment of silence passed until she picked up the sound of something dragging on the roof behind her. She turned her gaze up to find the Night Haunter casually perched on the roof edge, black eyes boring right into her skull. She averted her gaze in embarrassment.
"I am so, so sorry." She repeated, "I wasn't expecting to be followed, and you appearing out of nowhere startled me, and I panicked..."
She was bumbling like an idiot, trapped between him and the railing. But his silence was making her nervous. Lita felt the hot flush warm her face.
Then, something hit the ground. Lita jumped then stooped over to find her grocery bag, albeit missing some of its contents but still intact. She looked up, still under his scrutinizing gaze.
"Uhhm," she stuttered, awkwardly collecting her bag and shuffling towards the door, "Thank you."
He blinked at her, expression neutral even as he watched her slip inside and close the door.
The itch in her shoulder blades didn't cease as she put away her groceries and started dinner. She tried to ignore it for the most part, though she couldn't help but wonder why he was sticking around. Surely there were more interesting things to do than watch her?
She found her way back to the balcony door eventually, after setting her stew to a simmer. The Night Haunter now perched on the railing so he could peer in. She slid open the door to poke her head out.
"Hi." Lita muttered, he blinked again and let the awkward silence stretch out, "Uh, I made food. Did you want some?"
No answer save for his endless staring. Lita swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped back,
"I'll, uh, leave the door open for you then."
She retreated back to the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand. The minutes passed as she slowly stirred the stew, lost in the rhythmic motions. That was until she felt a presence hunched over her shoulder. Lita dared not look up, instead she simply muttered under her breath,
"I think I need to get you a bell."
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cobaltusami · 3 years
Text
Tropical Vacation pt. 7
Hey hi hello! This part was very delayed thanks to my laptop being a tool. I'm writing on a tablet computer hooked up to my tv now lol.
This part is pretty shippy too, Big shocker right? But It's Ishimondo and I couldn't resist--
Characters in this part: Lee!Taka, Ler!Mondo, Makoto, Leon, Hina, Akane, Sakura, Mahiru, Chiaki, Hiro, Nekomaru, Nagito, Hajime, Kazuichi
Word count: 1,803
Part 1: [Click or tap here!] Part 2: [Click or tap here!] Part 3: [Click or tap here!] Part 4: [Click or tap here!] Part 5: [Click or tap here!] Part 6: [Click or tap here!] Part 7: You are here.
Shortly after arriving back from waking up the two dorky gays, they showed up In the dining hall. Fuyuhiko sat down next to Peko after a small greeting and Hajime sat between Nagito and Mahiru, most likely whispering a small threat to the Lucky student for embarrassing them this morning.
“Where the heck were you? You worried us!” Mahiru complained, smacking Hajime upside the head.
Hajime yelped, rubbing the back of his head. “S-Sorry, I lost track of time…”
A few students at the table barely managed to stifle their laughter, others-- Leon, Ibuki, and Hiyoko, didn’t even try to.
“Making girls worry about you.… not cool Hajime.” Nagito chided, crossing his arms as he gave the boy next to him a look akin to a disappointed mother.
Hajime whipped around to face Nagito, His expression unreadable. “Nagito…”
Chiaki reached around Nagito, digging her fingers into Hajime’s side warningly. “Don’t threaten him.”
Nagito giggled as he watched Hajime’s face turn bright red, a small yelp slipping past his lips as he inched away from them, now nearly on the edge of his seat to avoid her fingers.
“Chiaki, don’t torture Hajime this early In the morning.” Nekomaru warned lightly, Chiaki pouted as she pulled her hand back, seemingly complying.
Hiro chuckled at this. “Looks like you’re the parent of the friend group…”
“Parent? Nah, he’s more like the big brother of the group.” Kazuichi responded. “Mahiru Is the parent of the group.”
“I am not!” Mahiru frowned. “I don’t have the stamina to mother all of you hoodlums.”
“Did she just use the word hoodlum unironically?” Makoto whispered to Kazuichi.
“I heard that Naegi! Just because you’re not In my class doesn’t mean I can’t reprimand you too!”
Makoto squeaked and shrunk back in his seat as she began to lecture both him and Kazuichi.
Celeste giggled as she sipped her tea. “I like her.”
“She’s certainly… Passionate.” Kyoko agreed, taking a sip of her own tea as she watched with amusement.
After breakfast was over, class 77 sent away the other class so they could plan the party. Nekomaru went with them to make sure Mondo left Sakura and Hina alone, he could’ve sworn that Mondo was just Akane but In guy form.
Speaking of Akane… where did she run off to?
As Nekomaru glanced around looking for the spitfire, he lost sight of Sakura and Hina. So at that point he decided to just stick around Mondo and keep an eye on him that way.
Currently the biker was walking along the beach with Taka, the pair looking for seashells or something corny like that.
Hiro approached the team manager casually. “So, You’re the brother of the group huh?”
“I guess so.” He responded with a chuckle.
“I’m the brother of my group too.” Hiro smiled. “They’re all a bunch of dorks aren’t they?”
“That would be an understatement.” Nekomaru retorted. “But they’re my dorks.”
“Even though sometimes they drive you nuts with how they behave.”
“Between Akane, Gundham, Kazuichi, Nagito and Fuyuhiko, I don’t know which one Is more misbehaved.”
Hiro chuckled. “Yeah, Mondo, Leon, and Hina are pretty chaotic too. Mondo has been on a war path since having that endurance challenge with Taka, He wrecks everyone with tickles man, It’s horrible.”
“That’s nothing! Fuyuhiko threatened to stab Nagito last week for teasing him and helping Hajime tickle him.” Nekomaru retorted.
“Hahaha! Last time we tried to take down Mondo he concussed Makoto.”
The two began sharing stories about their nerds, thus taking Neko’s attention off of Mondo. He and Taka snuck off to the park and sat down on the bench together.
They sat In silence for a bit, Just enjoying each other’s company. But eventually Taka let out a small happy sigh. “I really like this Island. What do you think about It, Kyoudai?”
“Eh?” Mondo turned his attention to his totally platonic not at all homosexual In the slightest best friend. “It beats the school so far.” He shrugged slightly, resting his arms across the back of the bench.
Taka took this as a cue to scoot a little closer, Mondo’s fingers grazed his shoulder opposite to him motioning for him to get even closer. He kept inching closer, each time Mondo would repeat the motion.
Even when their bodies were pressed against each other. “Mondo, If I get any closer to you I will be in your lap.” Taka finally said.
“I’d be okay with that.” He replied cheekily, resting his hand on his shoulder to hold him.
Totally platonic.
No homo, as they say.
Taka rolled his eyes as he rested his head against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his middle. Mondo fully moved his arm to wrap around Taka’s shoulders now. “I bet you would.” he muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” Taka smiled innocently up at the biker.
Mondo narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he slowly let the subject drop and relaxed again. “I guess I like that the Island Is big, doesn’t feel as fuckin’ cramped as the school.” He said, returning to the previous topic.
“I agree! And It’s so nice to feel the sun again.”
“Yea, and the fresh air Is nice too.” He conceded. “It’d be even better If I had my bike though, then I could finally take ya for that ride I promised.”
Taka tensed up, he never particularly cared for the idea of riding with Mondo. “Y-Yeah, such a shame.” He replied quietly.
It’s not that he didn’t trust him or anything, It’s just the thought of being on a motorcycle scared him a bit.
“S-So uh… What do you think of the classmates?” Taka asked, trying to change the subject before Mondo noticed his nervousness about motorized bikes.
Smooth.
“They seem alright, What do you think of ‘em? I trust your judgement more than mine.” Mondo asked, glancing down at the boy.
Taka pulled back slightly, looking up at Mondo with big eyes. “R-Really??”
“I mean, Yea. You’re a better judge of character than I am..”
He wasn’t expecting the next reaction.
Taka pulled back, prodding at his stomach incessantly. “Kyoudai! You should trust yourself and your opinion more!” he scolded.
Mondo yelped, his arms shooting down to block off his midsection from the Moral Compass. “EY! Will you cut that out??” He grabbed hold of Taka’s wrists and held his hands away from him.
He yanked on his wrists, pulling the smaller of the two Into his lap with a yelp. “Y’know, If you wanted me to tickle ya, Ya coulda just asked.” He smirked, coiling his arms around his prey.
“W-Wait! No! Mohohohondo!” Taka burst Into giggles as his fingers ghosted over his ribs.
“Yea, Kyoudai?” He hummed, digging into his ribs more firmly. “What’s up?”
“Hehehehahahaha! Dohohohon’t!” He whined through his giggles, blushing.
Mondo leaned forward, dusting small kisses across his neck. (what was exposed of it anyways) whilst unbuttoning his jacket, “Y’know, technically you don’t gotta wear the uniform right? We’re not in school right now.” he commented as he tugged the jacket off and dumped it unceremoniously onto the bench next to them,
Taka was too busy giggling to protest, as embarrassing as he found being tickled, he actually did enjoy it. Especially If it was Mondo doing the tickling.
He slipped his fingers under Taka’s white tee and ran them teasingly across his belly. “There, Don’t ya feel better now that you aren’t burning alive under that coat?”
Taka shook his head as he collapsed back against his chest, his giggling ramping up.
“No? Well fuck bro, I’m not sure what else I can do to help ya.” Mondo pretended to think about it. “Are your sides hurting? You want me to massage ‘em for ya?”
“N-Nohohohohoho! My sihihihides are fine!” Taka yelped, his arms wrapping around his midsection defensively.
“You suuuure? If they’re real achy, a nice massage will do wonders~” He purred, resuming his barrage of small tickly kisses to his neck.
Taka rested his head back against Mondo’s shoulder as he laughed. “Ihihihihihim suhuhuhure! Ahahahaha!”
Mondo pinched and prodded at his lean stomach and hip bones, smiling at the squeals and musical laughter it brought about. “A’ight, guess I’ll have to find another way to make ya happy.” He responded nonchalantly, withdrawing his hands momentarily only to shove them under his arms and dig into the sensitive skin.
“AAH! Mohohohohondohohoho!” He shrieked, his body doubling over as It attempted to get away from the tickles.
“Yea bro?” He snickered.
“Ihihihihihit tihihihihickles!” Taka whined through his laughter, trying to escape from Mondo’s lap to no avail.
“Uh yea bro, It’s fuckin’ supposed to.” He grinned cheekily, as soon as Taka tried to push his way to freedom, he pounced. His fingers descend cruelly on his sensitive sides, drawing a scream from the strict student.
“KYAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WAHAHAHAIT DOHOHOHOHN’T!”
“Don’t wait? I gotcha bro.” He chuckled, then leaned closer to whisper In Taka’s ear. “You wanna experience all the nice tickles, Right?”
Taka’s face grew even more red, If that was humanly possible. That bitch, I mean he wasn’t wrong but how dare he call Taka out like that?
“Hah, Gaaaaaay!”
Mondo paused his attack on poor Taka and looked up, spotting Leon across the way near an island bridge. “Leon, Fuck off. Unless you wanna be next.”
“Oh, I’m not worried.” Leon grinned. “I think you have other targets ahead of me.”
“Oh yea? Like who?”
As if waiting for that exact moment, Taka bolted out of his hold with Hina’s help. The moment he was free, A bucket of water was dumped onto Mondo, ruining his hair.
He shrieked in surprise as he jumped up, he whipped around to find the culprits.
Akane was cackling whilst she and Sakura stood there holding the tub. “I warned you I was gonna get you.” The white haired girl smiled.
“Oh, You’re so fucking dead!” He roared, jumping over the back of the bench to get the martial artist, but he ended up slipping and falling in the grass due to being soaking wet..
“Kyoudai!” Taka yelped, getting down next to him to check him for injuries.
Hina giggled evilly as the girls hurried off. Leon also disappeared, apparently he chose the side of chaos today.
Mondo sighed as he sat up and pushed his hair back out of his face.
“Are you okay?!”
“Yea, I’m fine.” He reassured him. “Sakura’s not gonna be when I get a hold of her though.”
Taka sighed in relief. Well at least he knew Mondo was actually okay and not just saying that. “Come on, Let’s get back to the hotel so you can change. Then we can get revenge.”
Mondo grinned at Taka, planting a kiss against his lips. “I fuckin’ love ya.”
Yes… No homo indeed.
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Text
Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 1
A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. First, 2 platonic chapters for set-up/build-up. And then, the story will split into 2 paths depending on your romantic pairing preference: You and Thrawn, or You and Eli.
Set Up: You are an outcast at the Imperial Academy, which means your only options for friends are the tall and stoic Chiss Mitth'raw'nuruodo and his translator from Wild Space Eli Vanto. The three of you get along, for the most part... Thrawn is obsessed with acing all the exams, Eli is desperate to show up his classmates, and you... well, you just want to feel like you belong somewhere. And hiding beneath it all are your unspoken feelings, longing to be realized, but fearful of ruining the balance of your trio's friendship....
Chapter Masterlist
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Chapter 1: The Problem
Pairing: None yet, just a nice friendship trio
Chapter Warnings: Mentions of bullying
Length: 2k
AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)
You wound down the hallways of the building with a scowl on your face. You would never grow used to this ridiculously long walk, from your first class of the day to the next, so conveniently located on complete opposite sides of the facility. Whoever had designed your schedule this year was either an utter imbecile or had done so on purpose, just to tick you off. At this point in your education here at the Imperial Academy, you knew either scenario was equally likely. You weren't exactly liked by the staff or your peers, and there were plenty of idiots to go around.
The one saving grace of your journey was that you would eventually cross paths with the only two friends you had managed to make in this elitist hell-hole: Eli Vanto and Mitth'raw'nuruodo.
Eli would be the first, his class letting out just a few corridors away from yours. He was leaning against an alcove in the wall just out of the way of passing traffic, his usual spot. When you rounded the corner, he pushed off and fell into step beside you.
"What happened?" you asked, having noticed he was scowling as well. His resting face usually made him look like a sad puppy, so for him to have such a prominent frown this early in the morning, something really upsetting must have happened.
"Lost the debate," he grumbled.
Ah, you'd forgotten he had that today. You and Thrawn had helped him practice for weeks, covering every possible argument and rebuttal from his opponent on the assigned topic. He had it in the bag, or so you'd all thought.
"What? How? Don't tell me you got stage-fright."
He glared over at you. "No, I wasn't nervous or anything. I did everything perfect. But all Arden had to do was throw in a few snide remarks about my accent and that got the whole class turned in his favor."
Eli started biting down on one of his nails in frustration. You frowned along with him. That was a variable none of you had accounted for while practicing.
"Is Arden the pimply-faced guy?"
"Yeah."
"Hate him," you muttered.
"Yeah."
The two of you paused at the doors of a lift, waiting for the previous occupants to exit before filing in yourselves and punching the button for the next level up. Eli was still chewing on his nails.
"Stop," you exclaimed, swatting his hand away from his mouth. "I told you that's a bad habit."
"Oh yeah, what's this then?" He grabbed one of your hands and twisted it around so you could see the splotches of chipped polish on your nails.
You jerked your hand away and held it defensively against your chest. "There's only so much I can do with this insane caseload, okay? I haven't had time to think about my nails."
"Then why'd you paint 'em in the first place?" he said with a bit of a laugh. Well, at least his mood was improving, even if it was at your expense. 
You swatted at him just as the lift doors opened. "Maybe I want to try feeling pretty sometimes, not like some zombie student."
You both were keenly aware that the cadets waiting to board the lift had backed up significantly as you passed, despite not having been in your way at all. They were all whispering too, and by the tone, it was probably not about very nice things. It was always like that, wherever you went. Even if they didn't know your reputations of being from wild, "backwater" planets, they need only hear one of you speak to know you were different. And in these Core worlds, different was inferior.
"You know you don't have to follow our course map, right?" Eli spoke up again, once you'd put some distance between the lift of sneering cadets. "Me, I don't have a choice. Thrawn's determined to graduate in as little time as possible, and I'm the sorry sucker who has to follow 'im. I'd run far away from the guy if I were you. Enjoy your freedom."
Eli complained about the last member of your trio, Thrawn, at least six times a day. And half of those complaints ended with him telling you to make a break for it. You knew he didn't mean any of it; the two of you had spent the last holiday break at a bar, and in his drunkenness, Eli had confessed to being secretly grateful for having met the Chiss. He only complained to cope with the stress.
And you... well, you weren't really sure why they let you hang around. They'd both easily become your closest friends, but you weren't always sure where you stood with them. Maybe they did like your company. Or maybe they just felt sorry for you. They were both friendly enough, allowing you to join them on Thrawn's "fast track" out of the Academy. But you had a feeling that as soon as you all graduated, they'd leave you behind and move on to whatever mission the Emperor had planned for Thrawn in the Navy.
You tried not to think about it too much.
Speaking of your friend, Mitth'raw'nuruodo emerged from a classroom doorway just a few paces ahead. Right on time, as always. His specialized "tactical statistics" class ended several minutes ago, but he had learned to carefully time your path so he wouldn't have to stand awkwardly in the hall waiting. It was for the best; you and Eli may sometimes draw unwanted attention, but poor Thrawn always stood out like a very big, very blue sore thumb.
"We have a problem," he stated, coming up on your other side. You never had to ask Thrawn what was wrong; if he had a problem worth sharing, you would hear about it.
"Hallway problem or 'fresher problem?" asked Eli.
You'd all agreed long ago there were some topics of conversation best had out of earshot from any passerby. And since most scurried out of the refresher whenever Thrawn went in, that became the only suitable place for such conversations, if it couldn't wait until your dorms at the end of the day.
"Refresher," Thrawn said. He looked down at you. "You'll be late for your class."
You shrugged. "If it's important...."
"It is."
You trusted him; he wasn't the type to make up drama or blow things out of proportion. The three of you picked up the pace, turning right instead of the usual left, and slipping into the men's bathroom. Thankfully it was already empty. Eli turned the lock just in case.
Thrawn wasted no time diving into the particulars. "I have come to learn our flight instructor, Commander Burdick, intends to sabotage my simulation tests next month. He is acquainted with Admissions Supervisor Aberdeen and understands that a failing mark will require a remedial course before being allowed back into the program. This would set my graduation back several months."
That was a problem. The flight course was one of the longer ones, and mandatory, and you were all so close to finally being through with it. Just one more round of simulation tests and then an actual flight around Coruscant.
Eli was groaning by the door. "You've gotta be kidding."
"I am not," said Thrawn in a measured voice. He knew it was just an expression, but you knew it was one of his pet peeves.
Eli wasn't listening, instead kicking at the tiled floor and mumbling about how this was so typical and why can't we just be left alone.
You turned to Thrawn. "Just you?"
"The ill will seems to be mostly directed toward me. Supervisor Aberdeen does not appreciate the special provisions that have been afforded me on behalf of the Emperor, and has coerced Commander Burdick to indulge in his spitefulness. However, I would not put it past them to also have plans for either of you, as well. They are aware of our... connection."
You were certain he was about to say friendship but changed his mind. Did he not know the word for it? Was he too embarrassed to admit it? Or did he truly not see you or Eli as anything more than connections?
"Okay, but..." Eli was still processing things. "How? What's their plan?"
"I purposefully said the Commander intended to sabotage the tests. He does not yet have a plan."
"So... we stop 'im," said Eli.
"Or," you countered, a mischievous smirk playing about your lips. "We don't."
Eli merely blinked at you, but Thrawn was very interested. "Go on," he encouraged.
"If we learn what the plan is, or maybe even give him a plan of our own, then we can let it play out and ensure he gets in trouble for it."
Thrawn rubbed his chin as he considered. You knew he'd soon slip into his usual routine of pacing and muttering in unknown languages, which could take a while and make you even later for your class. You cleared your throat, drawing his two red eyes back to yours.
"Surely a Commanding Officer wouldn't dare do anything to sabotage you directly," you offered. "He'll either look for some help or pin it on someone else, in case there's an investigation."
Thrawn rubbed his chin again. "You think we should influence the Commander on who to pick to be his... what do you call it, ensipki?"
"Scapegoat," Eli said quickly. It was becoming second nature for him to translate what was left of the holes in Thrawn's understanding of Basic.
"Right, and then we can expose the deception just before the tests," you said. "Before there's time to come up with another plan."
Thrawn's eyes narrowed in thought. "A decent idea, but it would require the education of one of our fellow cadets to be jeopardized. It should not be our first plan."
"But if he's going to use one of them anyway..." you started to protest.
"Then we should seek to expose his connection to that person as well. This is an instructor who is not serving the best interest of several of his students. He should be the only one blamed."
You weren't going to let his logic win this time. As far as you could tell, this was a perfect opportunity to get revenge on your obnoxious classmates. "It's going to be a lot easier to take issue up with the Board against a student than an instructor. We can try to expose both people, but if we can't, then at least we can nail one of them. It's called a scapegoat for a reason."
Eli spoke up before Thrawn could respond, throwing you a meaningful look. "Arden's in his class. Different time, same instructor."
"Who is this Arden?" asked Thrawn.
"The racist asshole who unfairly stole Eli's grade on the debate today," you said. You'd picked your words deliberately, and it did the trick.
"Very well. We have our scapegoat," said Thrawn.
You winked at Eli and he hid a smile.
"So," Thrawn continued, fully invested now. "We will need to push Arden toward the Commander as a viable accomplice. We will need to gain insight into the details of their plan. And then we will need to ensure those details are brought to light at the right moment."
The three of you looked among each other. This was probably the tenth plan this year alone that you'd all devised to take care of some kind of "problem." Just last week Thrawn  had discovered misinformation in one of your textbooks that took the three of you on a field trip to the lower levels of Coruscant to find a con-artist who'd sold a quarter-hundred counterfeit materials to the Academy library. You'd only had the weekend to catch up on all the rest of your homework, and here you all were again, ready to jump into another scheme.
You had suggested the idea, so you were already grinning and ready to go. Thrawn had just put together a to-do list, and you could almost see the gears in his head continuing to spin as he determined more points to the plan.
The deciding vote was Eli. Though he often complained about not having a choice, you and Thrawn rarely forced him to do anything and were always respectful if he had a differing opinion. This time, you had a feeling he'd be on board.
He set his hands on his hips and smirked. "Disgracing a shitty classmate and a shitty teacher in order to save our grades? Let's do it."
Next Chapter: The Plan >
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lesetoilesfous · 4 years
Text
WIP Wednesday
I got tagged by the incredbly lovely @dalish-rogue, @pinkfadespirit and @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold and honestly thank you all so mjuch because getting tagged made me want to have something new written for this, and it's really helping me get through this WIP!
Tagging: @midnightprelude, @barbex, @vonuberwald, @gingergreencoffee, @alienturnipp, @mago-emplumado, @protect-him aaand @mageunderground - plus anyone else who wants to take part!
This is from my court mage AU, Physician, Heal Thyself, where Fenris is knighted by Anora for his services to Ferelden during the Blight following his escape from Tevinter, and after some time at court he meets the palace physician: a mage on permanent loan from the Circle, and a spirit healer, named Anders...
Isabela needs two and a half hours to steal Anders’ phylactery. This was the first step in a plan that was both ludicrously dangerous and seemingly impossible. Six months ago, if someone had suggested to Fenris that he would have been not only the willing, unenchanted accomplice to a plan to make a legal mage an apostate but also its mastermind, he would have punched them. Or laughed in their face. Likely, both. As it is, he finds himself sitting across from the Queen of Ferelden.
Anora’s mabari, Lucy, is asleep at her feet. She had not brought the dog with her to their games before. But Fenris does not need this cue to understand that his relationship with Anora has changed deeply. There is a not insignificant part of him that mourns their friendship, and anything else that might have arisen from it. A voice in his mind that sounds too much like Danarius damns him for his short-sightedness. Anders’ life and freedom were only his own: if Fenris had become, what? Anora’s lover? It could have meant far more for the elves of Ferelden than one more apostate would ever mean to the Circle. Still, another part of him scorns the anxiety as the fruitless effort of ego. Far more likely that nothing would change, he would be a footnote in history and Anders - Fenris’ train of thought stutters to a halt. No, it’s better this way. So he sits up in his chair, and looks at the Queen who’d titled him, and helps his friend rob her.
Anora’s fingers are clean and neatly manicured as she holds her cards in a fan in front of her face, features perfectly impassive as she discards the Knight of Ages and draws from the pack.
Fenris says nothing, and in the grate the fire pops and spits. Outside the door, the scrape of armour on Anora’s guards seems to echo against the stone hall. Fenris leans forward, and tries to ignore his heart pounding in his chest as he wonders where Isabela is: whether she’s made it to the treasury, or if she’s bleeding out under some guard’s blade whilst he sits here and plays this stupid game. With sweating fingers, Fenris discards the Angel of Truth and picks up from the pack.
He thinks that it is as much to silence the scream of anxieties in his own mind as it is to mislead Anora, when at last he untangles his tongue for long enough to speak. “I have been thinking on what you said, about the mage.” Fenris feels Anora’s attention shift to his face as keenly as he would a viper. He breathes, and tastes wood smoke and the smell of soap which clings to Anora’s perfectly tidied private quarters. Fenris goes on without quite managing to meet the icy-blue judgement of her gaze. “You are right, my relationship with him had begun to border on the...indecorous. And the idea that it may not have been of my choosing discomforts me.”
None of this is untrue. Fenris had always been of the opinion that lies were easier, this way: though the first he’d learned to tell under his Master’s attention (no, I saw no one else; Domine, wait, the fault was mine; yes Domine, it was my idea) had felt as if they scalded his tongue with the weight of mortal sin. It is not easy to lie to Anora, by comparison, but it is easier. Fenris has learned that there is more to the world than queens and magisters, and they are no longer the gods to him that they once were.
He feels Anora watching him, feels the cold weight of her attention even as she bends forward in studied indifference to scratch Lucy’s great sandy head, laying her hand face down on the polished table. Firelight dances across the dark wood and glances off the satin backing of the cards. Fenris waits with baited breath for her answer, and tries not to imagine Isabela scaling the Denerim palace walls.
Eventually, Anora breaks the silence that had fallen heavily about them like the air before a thunderstorm. “I am glad to hear it. What prompted the change of heart?”
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darriness · 4 years
Text
Klaine Fic - You’ll Always Be The Home - Chapter 4
Author: darriness
Fic Summary: Everything is finally settled in Kurt and Blaine’s life…right?
Link to: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
Rating: T
Chapter Word Count: 2115
Chapter Summary: A meeting
Author’s Note: Thanks to my beta @darrenismydarcy
AO3 Link
“Blaine!” Kurt calls as he follows his husband out of the church and down the steps to the street. Blaine isn’t running but he’s speed walking with a hand over his mouth and looks like he might vomit. Kurt is vaguely aware of Bethany following him down the stairs but his eyes and attention are on Blaine.
“Blaine!” He tries again when he’s reached the sidewalk. Blaine is about a half a block away, “Blaine, stop! Please!”
Blaine does stop then, causing a woman walking in the other direction to have to quickly dodge past him with a glare and curse. Blaine turns to Kurt with wide eyes and his hand still over his mouth. Kurt approaches him slowly with his hands outstretched like you might a wild animal you don’t want to provoke. Kurt’s never seen this look in his husband’s eyes and he’s not quite sure how to handle it.
“It doesn’t mean…” Kurt starts but Blaine cuts him off with a harsh laugh as he removes his hand from his mouth sharply.
“Everyone else is dead, Kurt.” Blaine says, “The only other way for that kid to look like that is if I somehow got some girl pregnant eight years ago and by that point I had given up sleeping with women so...” Blaine rolls his eyes sarcastically.
Kurt breathes in deeply and tries to stay calm. Biting back at Blaine would not accomplish anything, “What do you want to do?” He asks.
Blaine puts a hand to his mouth and rubs harshly as he looks down the street and shakes his head. Kurt’s heart aches for the lost look in his eyes. He doesn’t know how to fix this. He doesn’t know what to do.
Finally, after a long silence which wasn’t really silent considering they are standing on a busy New York City street, Blaine finally looks back at Kurt, “I want to buy a unicorn.” He says, looking over at Bethany.
Kurt looks at Bethany to find the girl staring incredulously at Blaine, like maybe her brother had gone insane. Kurt’s not entirely sure that hasn’t happened.
“What…?” She asks.
Blaine nods, “You said you wanted to do something extremely gay after the funeral. I think we can all agree that our time at that funeral has come to an end, so let’s do it. Let’s do something really gay. Let’s buy a unicorn.”
Bethany and Kurt look at each other for a moment. Kurt thinks they are both thinking the same thing: that Blaine is a stiff push away from losing it completely and neither wants to see that happen. Kurt thinks that the middle of the street is not the best place for Blaine to have whatever breakdown he might be having so he decides quickly with a nod to just go with it.
“Okay.” Kurt says, “Let’s go buy a unicorn.”
-- -- --
As it turns out ‘buying a unicorn’ means taking an almost magical mystery tour around New York City until landing in a spot called Dinosaur Hill and purchasing perhaps the largest unicorn stuffed animal known to man. It’s so large that it takes up an entire seat on the subway as Bethany puts her arm around it and cuddles it. Luckily, the subway isn’t overly busy at this time of day or transporting such a feat of sewing engineering home might have been a challenge.
When all four of them (Blaine, Kurt, Bethany, and Eugene the Unicorn, as Bethany has named him) enter the apartment, Bethany curls up on the couch with Eugene beside her. Blaine takes a seat in the armchair and Kurt perches himself on one arm of the chair Blaine sits in. 
They are silent, each lost in their own thoughts, like they had been for most of the search for Eugene the Unicorn. Eventually, Bethany coughs, drawing the attention of the two men.
“So uhhhh, are we going to address the white unicorn in the room?” She asks.
Kurt sighs and looks over at Blaine who is chewing his lip. Kurt wishes he knew what Blaine was thinking, but finding out you have a brother you never knew about from the parents who abandoned you at the funeral for the mother who abandoned you isn’t something Kurt could imagine in his wildest dreams. He has no idea how he would feel after finding out such information.
“We don’t know for sure he’s who we think he is.” Blaine finally whispers, in direct contradiction to his words on the street earlier.
Bethany’s eyes widen, “I’ve seen pictures of you at eight, Blaine. That kid is your clone. Like you said, what other option is there?”
Blaine sits straight in the chair and begins to lean forward while pointing. Kurt reaches for Blaine’s hand and brings it into his lap, which effectively ends whatever comeback Blaine was going to give, “Look, I think we all know who that little boy is.” He says softly, “That’s not what I think we should be talking about.”
Blaine slumps in his chair and nods after a moment, seemingly resigned to the fact. Kurt watches Blaine’s face before looking over at Bethany who is doing the same thing. Kurt has a feeling that whatever they need to talk about, it has very little to do with Bethany and her feelings.
He truly believes what he told Blaine in the shower the night after they told Bethany about their mother’s passing. Bethany’s connection to that part of her life isn’t all that strong, potentially almost non-existent, because Blaine allowed her that. He gave her a parental figure. He gave her the stability, and nurturing, and love that their biological parents either couldn’t or wouldn’t give.
And it’s this influence over his little sister that Kurt is sure why she says what she does next. Bethany nods her head with a determined expression and looks between Kurt and Blaine, “We should take him.”
Kurt lets out a surprised laugh as Blaine’s eyes widen next to him.
“What - you want to kidnap him?” Kurt asks.
Bethany shrugs, “Considering who our father is, I’m sure this kid would come willingly.” Kurt lifts his eyebrows in silent agreement before Bethany shakes her head and looks back at Blaine, “He’s going to need our help.”
Blaine’s eyes widen again and his mouth opens and closes a few times. Kurt watches a lot of thoughts pass behind his husband’s eyes, but Kurt can’t really guess at any of them. He knows his personal thoughts on Bethany’s suggestion but this isn’t really about him right now. And by Blaine’s reaction, Kurt’s personal thoughts are way off. Blaine seems to be at war with his thoughts.
Blaine’s mouth opens again, as if ready to say something, but is interrupted by a knock on the door. All three occupants of the apartment turn toward the door in unison. Knocks are not an uncommon occurrence, but for some reason all three of them seem to regard the action as alien. What is that noise and what should they do about it?
Kurt shakes himself from his confusion first and gets up to answer the second knock. He pulls the door open with a polite smile before his face crumbles in confusion when he’s not met at eye level by another person. A cleared throat brings Kurt’s eyes down a couple of feet and his eyes land on an eight-year-old Blaine.
The same little boy from the church is standing on their doorstep. He looks dapper in his blue suit, purple checkered shirt and deep blue bowtie with brown dress shoes, but it’s also his expression that gives off an air of dapperness. Of superiority. Of...judgement.
Kurt feels judged by this eight-year-old in a very eight-year-old Kurt Hummel sort of way. Kurt would have served that face at eight. He has a sudden twilight zone moment in his head. This kid looks like Blaine but acts like Kurt. Is he somehow their time travelled biologically impossible child?!
Kurt shakes his head to clear himself of the thought as he and mini-Blaine continue to stare at each other. Eventually, the boy clears his throat again and quirks an eyebrow, “Are you going to invite me in?”
And suddenly this little boy is Blaine’s dad. Kurt may have only met him once, but there is no mistaking who raised this little person. Speaking of the elder Anderson...Kurt’s eyes shift up and down the hall outside the apartment for any sign of Marcus Anderson. There is none.
Kurt looks back down at the boy dumbly for a moment, even prompting the kid to lift his eyebrows expectantly, before stepping aside, “Um sure.” He says for lack of anything better.
As the little boy makes his way into the apartment, Kurt gestures toward the living room, “Ummm Blaine? Bethany? Your…” He trails off before saying ‘brother’, but the pause is enough to imply the word before he adds, “, is here.”
Blaine and Bethany are staring at the little boy with wide eyes. One set hazel, the other blue, but still so much alike. The boy moves into the room with a confidence he really shouldn’t have at that age and definitely not in this situation, and sits in the only unoccupied chair in the room. He folds his hands in his lap and sits with a straight back.
Kurt sits back down on the arm of Blaine’s chair and the three of them - Blaine, Bethany, and Kurt - just stare. How did this kid get here? What does he want? Why can’t Kurt get the image out of his head of this kid being somehow genetically tied to both him and Blaine?
Before any of them can ask a question though, the boy speaks.
“My name is Aiden Anderson. My father is Marcus Anderson and my mother is…” He pauses and Kurt notices his mouth pulls up in a slight grimace, “was...Evelyn Anderson.”
Even though Kurt is beyond confused, his heart breaks for the little boy, for Aiden. This boy just lost his mother.
Blaine clears his throat and shifts in his chair. Kurt turns to see his husband lean forward with a furrowed brow, “Aiden,” He starts, “does your dad know you’re here?”
Aiden shakes his head, “No. I found your address the other night. My father said he had to go do something but he was acting very strangely so I snuck into his office while he was gone. I found your address on his desk attached to a picture of you two.” He says gesturing between Blaine and Bethany.
Bethany and Blaine turn to each other with shocked expressions before turning back to Aiden as the boy keeps talking, “You looked liked me.” He shrugs, “And when I saw you at the funeral today, I asked my father who you were and he got all…” Aiden pauses and adopts a grumpy expression for lack of words to describe Marcus Anderson’s reaction. He drops the act after a moment before sighing, “I wanted to know why you looked like me, so I remembered the address and came to find you.”
The room is silent after the boy's story before Kurt’s eyes widen briefly, “Smart eight-year-old.” He says impressed.
Aiden turns to him with his nose in the air, “I’m seven.” He corrects.
Kurt’s eyes widen even further.
“So, you don’t know who we are?” Bethany asks.
Aiden shakes his head, “No. I just saw your picture and know that my father got really upset when he saw you and I asked about you.”
Blaine sighs next to Kurt and wrings his hands together, “Aiden, I don’t think your dad would want us telling you who we are.” He says.
Aiden tilts his head curiously, “My father always says the more knowledgeable a man is, the less of a fool a person can make of him.”
Kurt notices Blaine’s eyes pinch at this before he bites his lips together, shakes his head, sighs, and looks back at Aiden, “Aiden, I’m Blaine. And this is Bethany.” He says, gesturing to Bethany on the other couch who waves. Aiden gives Bethany a strange smile but waves back before Blaine continues hesitantly, “...And our parents were Marcus and Evelyn Anderson…”
Kurt watches as the little boy in front of them takes in the information, rolls it around in his head, and then comes to the only conclusion there is. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open as he stares between them.
Kurt kind of can’t believe he’s been witness to the same face (just decades apart in age) realizing it has more siblings than it thought it did twice in one day.
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one-boring-person · 4 years
Text
You Tell Us.
David(The Lost Boys) x Reader
Context: (Y/n) is a vampire hunter who lives in Santa Carla, alongside the vampires already residing there, with her sister. One night, she comes home to find the boys, minus one, worked up about something, convinced that she is the cause of what has happened.
Warnings: Blood, fatal injuries.
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The hot air around me is suffocating as I trek up the dusty trail to my house, wishing now that I'd ridden my motorbike into Santa Carla, rather than walking in like I'd thought I was up to, my leather jacket not doing anything to help my case. Sighing reluctantly, I go to take it off, before thinking better of it when I realise I can’t be bothered to carry it, pushing the sleeves up my arms instead, flicking my sweaty hair from my face as I walk, kicking a stone along the darkened path. Above me, the sky has long since faded into darkness, the moon barely visible through the clouds littering the black expanse, the sight of it a stark reminder of the twisting feeling in my gut.
Something is wrong.
The sensation has plagued me for hours now, especially when I noticed the biker gang hadn’t turned up at the Boardwalk, the lack of their usual mischievous antics barely missed by anyone other than me, the vampires’ absence worrying me to no end. As soon as I'd realised they weren't around, I left to go home, worried for the safety of my sister still residing in my house (I say "my house" but really it's just an empty house we moved into when we first arrived here), blissfully unaware of the horrors concealed in the town. Of course, it took me a while to get out of Santa Carla, what with the Frog brothers and their new friend, Sam Emerson, pestering me for more information and help regarding the “nightstalker situation” as they call it, only letting me go when I gave them some more misleading advice for them to follow up on, trying my best not to draw attention to the vampires I know to inhabit the small town.
Normally, I would’ve taken them out by now, but the deal I made with them keeps me from doing so, so I suck it up and give them the same amount of respect and friendliness they pay me, which isn’t too much, in all honesty, but that suits me fine. The arrangement stated that I wouldn’t kill any of them, only taking out any other vampires and hunters that come into their territory, if they promised only to target the more criminal side of the public, leaving innocents alone as much as possible, but that doesn’t mean I trust them, any of them, even if I have developed an unfortunate soft spot for their leader.
Shaking myself back into the present, I feel the dread in my stomach welling up as I come into view of the house, only to find the building completely dark. Frowning in worry, I pick up the pace, pushing past the gate in my haste to reach the front door, which stops me in my tracks as I catch sight of it.
It is ajar, the locks snapped off completely.
Setting my jaw in grim realisation, I reach into my inner jacket pocket, pulling out the stake laced with holy water, the smooth wood reassuring under my fingers as I slowly push open the door, bracing myself for whatever lies past the boundary. Waiting for me is the dark interior of my hall, everything as it should be, barring the lack of light, my pulse picking up a little as I survey the area in trepidation. Entering, I step carefully, trying to keep as quiet as I can so as not to alert the intruders to my presence, though if it is who I think it is, there’s no point. All around me, the house is eerily quiet, no sounds accompanying my entrance.
Looking to my left, I notice that the door to the lounge has been torn clean off its hinges, the area behind it as black as the rest of the house. I grit my teeth, trying to see into the room as much as possible, though I know it's impossible thanks to my human vision, so I grab the torch off the table beside the door, knowing it is there due to my normal organised behaviour. Switching it on, I aim the bright beam into the lounge, a gasp escaping me as I catch sight of the ghostly pale features of my sister sitting in a chair, mouth gagged, arms clearly tied behind her, her eyes wide and terrified.
Putting a finger to my lips as a gesture for her to remain quiet, I cautiously make my way into the room, looking around me as I do so, checking the surroundings as thoroughly as possible, though, in my haste, I forget the most important place. Deeming it clear, I go to my sister, dropping the stake as I place a hand on her cheek, tilting her face up towards me; checking her neck for the tell tale signs. Finding none, I let out a grateful sigh, before finally registering her fearful murmurs, my hand reaching for the stake at my feet, my pulse picking up a lot more as the gravity of my previous mistake sinks in. As I go to pick the short length of wood up, a heavy boot lands on my hand, holding the appendage in place, tension freezing my body in place as the lights suddenly switch on, revealing the intruders to me.
“Hello, (Y/n). We have a bone to pick with you.” A sinister voice sounds behind me, the source of it well known to me, though I’ve never heard it laced with so much anger before.
“David. What are you doing here?” I look over my shoulder at the blonde vampire, taking in his venomous look with confusion, my hand still pinned to the floor under his shoe. Behind him, Dwayne and Paul shoot me equally angered expressions, the vampires trying to hold back their more primal facial features with some success though their eyes flash yellow from time to time.
“I think you know full well the reason for our visit.” David hisses at me, pressing harder onto my hand, a cruel smirk making its way onto his handsome face at the wince that escapes me, despite my better judgement.
“I don't? Mind filling me in?” I retort, lifting an eyebrow as I keep eye contact with him, his own eyes narrowing in fury. He nods once to Paul and Dwayne, who instantly move over to me, grabbing hold of me and lifting me to my feet, pinning my hands behind my back and forcing me to keep my eyes trained in front of me as they back me away from my captive sister, who watches this in pure terror.
“What are you doing? What’s going on?” I protest, only just noticing something key, “Where’s Marko?”
At the mention of their friend's name, all three vampires tense up, a low growl leaving Dwayne's lips at my question.
“You tell me, (Y/n), you killed him.” David manages to keep his voice level, though I can tell he's barely keeping his rage in check, his words hitching a little.
Shock floods me, rendering me silent as I search for the appropriate words, well aware that I had nothing to do with Marko’s death.
“Wh....he's dead? How?” I eventually manage, looking to them for answers.
“You staked him, don’t you remember?” Paul growls in my ear, his fangs emerging to brush along the carotid artery in my neck, a warning shiver going through me at the sensation.
“How am I supposed to remember something I didn’t do?” I protest, regretting my words as Dwayne’s grip on my arm tightens, nails digging into the soft flesh, painfully, “I didn’t stake him.”
Giving me an acidic glare, David goes over to my sister, lifting a hand to cup her chin, tilting her head to the side, giving him easy access to her neck. At this, I become panicked, writhing in the other two vampires’ grip, pulling and fighting to get free, a grunt leaving me as they yank me back into place, holding me as still as possible.
“What are you doing? She’s done nothing, I’ve done nothing! Whatever happened to Marko, she has had no part in it, leave her alone! Please!” I plead their leader, embarrassment accompanying the panic coursing through my veins as I realise I’m begging him, my usually hard exterior cracking slightly.
“Why should you not feel the pain we do? Especially after breaking the rules of our agreement, which we've kept to as we are supposed to.” David snarls at me, his vampiric appearance threatening to distort his features as he leans closer to my sister, her confused terror palpable in the air, whimpers and cries of fear forcing themselves past the gag in her mouth
“I’ve never broken those rules before, so why should I do it now? You know, of all people, that I respect the agreement as much as you guys do. I’ve never let another vampire hunter stay on your turf, I've hunted any vampires that tried to stay around, I’ve never let anyone find out the truth, and I sure as hell would never kill any of you! What would I get out of doing something like that?” I point out to them, hoping they recall the time when I spent an entire night chasing some leather clad priest out of Santa Carla, the paranoid man having been particularly violent when he thought I was a vampire, trying to stake me and succeeding, thankfully missing any vital organs, though my resilience managed to scare him off in the end.
The room goes quiet as the vampires consider this, the only sound being my sister's soft noises of terror as she watches the exchange, her head still at an angle in David's grasp. Clenching his jaw, the blonde vampire releases her, stepping over to me so that he can look me directly in the eye, his rage still dangerously high, though it’s dampened now, his face more human than before.
“We need to discuss this. Alone.” He eventually bites out, nodding at Paul and Dwayne, who remove their hands from my body with a few indignant murmurs, allowing me to be passed into their leader's clutches, “You two stay here with her. If she tries anything, well, you know what to do.”
At his words, a pit of worry opens up in my stomach, my mind fighting my body as I am dragged from the room, barely registering Paul and Dwayne's smirks, both obviously happy about the outcome of this conversation so far. I go to protest, only to feel the grip on my arm tighten briefly, the vampire leading me obviously warning me to keep quiet as he takes me upstairs, easily able to navigate the dark with his enhanced vision, quickly pushing me into the nearest room, which just happens to be the spare bedroom. As we enter, he flicks on the light, standing opposite me with his hands in his pockets, waiting for me to say something.
“Why are we not talking about this downstairs?” I question after a moment, confused as to the vampire’s reasons.
“Because if it wasn’t you who staked Marko, then I have no idea who else it could be. Star and Laddie are also missing, so I’m out of leads.” He admits carefully, allowing himself to look me in the eye, showing me the raw grief behind them. As quickly as I see it, however, it is gone, the vampire swiftly setting his jaw again.
At the mention of Star, a pang of jealousy makes itself known in my chest but I quickly push it down, knowing he'll be able to hear my heart rate picking up if I don’t suppress my feelings. I let myself relax a little, confident that he won’t do anything to hurt me, and that he is genuinely curious and confused as to who tore their family apart.
“I can’t say I know. There have been no new vampire hunters in town for months, and I’ve made sure to keep an eye out for them, so it’s not another hunter, I don’t think.” I muse, frowning in concentration as I wrack my mind for a possible solution, “Unless...”
My voice trails off as I say the last part, one thought making its way into the forefront of my mind, but I don’t allow myself to think that, unwilling to believe it could be true. Unfortunately, David picks up on my hesitation, instantly moving closer to me, causing me to back up, my pulse raising as he corners me against the wall behind me, his body trapping me. Against my cheek, I can feel the icy air radiating off the vampire's body, his proximity also allowing me to catch the scent of his natural musk, the mixture of dust, blood, leather and motor oil clouding my sense as he leans in close.
“Unless?” He breathes against my skin, voice dropping an octave as he looks into my eyes, a smirk making its way onto his face briefly at the inadvertent hitch in my breath, my body reacting on its own.
“Unless you let someone else in on your secret.” I state, struggling to concentrate under his piercing gaze.
A line appears between his eyes as he considers this, a flash of understanding suddenly breaking out across his face, a snarl ripping from his lips at the thought.
“Michael.” He spits out, eyes flashing dangerously.
“Michael?” I inquire, trying to think back to the Michael he means.
“The new kid, Michael Emerson. We initiated him last night, but he refused to feed, so he still hasn’t turned. I know he and Star slept together, so it’s not unlikely for her to have run off with him.” David's voice is low once more, anger lacing his tone.
“Michael Emerson?” The name sets off alarm bells in my head, the surname familiar to me, “He have a brother?”
“Probably, I don’t exactly make a point of learning a person's family members.” The vampire responds impatiently.
“You did when we first met.” I point out quietly, looking down as he shoots me an odd look, a blush creeping onto my face at his next words.
“You’re different.”
Glancing up, I gasp as I find his face a lot closer to mine, my usually sharp instinctual knowledge of a person's movements completely off, his eyes staring straight into mine. Smirking he pulls away, putting a little space between us before the scowl is back, his anger and hurt returning swiftly.
“Anyway, I’m pretty sure Michael's younger brother has been hanging out with the Frog brothers in the comic shop, a lot more in the last day or so.” I manage to explain once I’ve regained my composure, adjusting my jacket around me once more.
“And this is important, why?” David growls, eager to avenge Marko’s demise, the blonde vampire twitching a bit.
“Well, the Frog brothers fancy themselves as vampire hunters. I taught them a lot of what they know, but I’ve made sure I never told them exactly what they need to know, and I’ve never drawn any attention to you guys. They were very persistent today, and they seemed stressed.” I inform him a little sheepishly, flinching as he stiffens, worry flooding my mind again, “They’re mostly completely harmless.”
“Not harmless enough.” David hisses, swiftly going to the door and opening it, striding down the stairs as fast as possible, shouting instructions at Paul and Dwayne.
“Where are you going?” I call put after him, tailing the vampire as he leaves the house, a grunt leaving my lips as Paul and Dwayne push past me harshly, knocking my shoulders.
“To settle a score.” Their leader responds, a smirk on his face, though I barely have time to acknowledge it before they’re taking to the skies, hellbent on revenge.
Speechless, I stand there for a second, my brain kicking me into action as I realise they are in big trouble, both the Emersons and the vampires – they’re both too stubborn in nature to give up. Instantly, I race into the house, where I grab the keys to my motorbike as well as a few vials of holy water, just in case, briefly going into the lounge to free my sister and reassure her. Minutes later, I’m on the back of my roaring motorbike, a grim expression on my face at the thought of the events of tonight, swiftly manoeuvring my way towards the Emerson's home.
A wind has picked up since I’ve been the house, the icy air rushing past me as I hurtle along the darkened road at nearly 100mph, my leather jacket barely protecting me against it, though I don’t notice it in any case. My mind is dead set on reaching my destination, though I know I am most likely too late to do anything to help, the vampire’s being inhumanely faster than me after all. Urgency gives me a reckless speed, an oncoming truck nearly sending me flying off the road as it almost hits me, a few birds and dogs in the surrounding landscape breaking into sound as I pass them, the interruptive engine exciting them. The odd pedestrian calls out at me as I thunder past, insults and words of irritation lost in the wind, their meaning falling on deaf ears as I ignore every person I come across, until I reach the road leading to the familiar house a little way away from the rest. Determined, I turn down it and ramp up the speed, blinking away tears that have formed in my eyes from the barrage of air, the salty liquid momentarily blurring my vision.
Soon enough, the Emerson home comes into view, prompting me to cut the speed abruptly, skidding as the motorbike struggles to grip the dusty surface below it. As soon as it comes to a halt, I jump off of it, racing up the driveway to the house, barely noticing the gate as I vault over it, thankful now that I took time to train myself in this kind of agility, my pace not faltering for a second until I reach the front door, where I slow down enough to take in my surroundings.
The room is bathed in a crimson light, the source unimportant for the minute, revealing the dark shadows of several pieces of dislodged furniture, a table laden with stakes near the middle, a mangled body lying a little way away from it. Gulping, I go over to it with caution, half expecting someone to attack me, though it is eerily quiet in this area of the house, the only sound being a few static sparks from the smoking stereo above the corpse.
My eyes widen as I recognise the mutilated vampire, concern and shock flooding me at the realisation; Dwayne. Going nearer, I look over the debris around him, deducting his fate very quickly, though it surprises me greatly that a bunch of kids would do something like this. But then again, it is the Frog brothers.
All of a sudden, I feel something connect with my shoulder; the force of the impact throwing me a good few feet to the left, a dull ache starting in the inflicted area as I collide, violently, with the floor. Groaning, I look up, only now hearing the snarls and rasping voices of two vampires, the ominous shape of the two of them hanging from a doorframe a couple of metres away catching my attention. One of them I recognise to be David, the blonde growling into the face of another, who I assume to be Michael, both of them so locked up in each other that they haven't noticed my presence behind them, both pairs of yellow eyes focused solely on each other.
Scrambling to my feet, I force my legs to carry me over to them, grabbing hold of David's back in an attempt to pull them apart, though I know full well that I am far too weak to be successful by force alone. A few words leave my lips, useless pleas falling on deaf ears as they continue to fight, verbally, with each other.
“Join us, Michael!” The familiar yet slightly distorted tone of David interrupts me, the vampire's tense muscles bunching underneath me as if ready to move again.
“Never!” The brunette rejects the offer, most likely not for the first time, drawing a frustrated growl from the blonde.
“My blood runs in your veins!” David points out, his smirk almost audible in his words.
“So does mine!” Michael growls one last time, before I suddenly feel our bodies being turned and forced towards something invisible to me, the shock and confusion briefly flaring in my mind until two searing points of agony burst into existence in my abdomen. A strangled scream escapes my lips at the sensation, blood pushing its way past my lips with every faltering breath, my eyes swiftly finding the two horns of sorts protruding from my body, the two vampires staring at me from behind them. In my rapidly deteriorating state, I recognise David's features becoming human again as he rushes to my side, panic and horror lacing his voice, shock clouding his gaze.
“(Y/n)?! What the hell?! This can’t be happening...I can’t lose everyone!” He rambles, the usually composed vampire scrambling for sanity now that he's faced with a situation he can't control. Gasping, I try to lift a hand, intending to wipe away the tear rolling down his cheek, only to let out a whimper of pain when the movement jars the wounds in my stomach. Eyes widening, David seems to make a split second decision, swiftly apologising as he reaches underneath me to grasp my body in his hands, pulling me off the horns abruptly, pulling me into his chest as I scream in pure agony. In seconds, I feel the cool night air on my face again, my hands clutching at David's jacket desperately when he leaps off the ground, taking to the sky in order to escape the residents of the Emerson household, holding me tightly to him, whispering despairing reassurances into my ear.
My vision starts to cloud slightly, the pain in my abdomen almost too much for me to bear, my mind becoming hazy, though I try my best to stay awake for his sake, knowing it will ruin him if I pass in his arms. Small whimpers leave me every now and then, each time drawing the attention of the panicking blonde vampire, his grip steadily tightening around me as he quickens his pace, the wind turning icy as it rushes around us.
Eventually, after what feels like hours, we enter what looks to be the cave they reside in, though I’ve only been in it once and so don't remember too well what the interior looks like. A soft surface appears below me as his arms leave me, though they don’t quite retreat fully, his large hands tilting my head to him as he tries to hold eye contact with me, failing when the hurt in them becomes too much for him to handle.
“God, I’m so sorry, (Y/n), I never realised you were there! This should never have happened, I got lazy and arrogant...and now they’re all dead!” At his own words, David breaks down, sobs leaving the normally intimidating vampire as tears flow freely down his cheeks, “God, they're all dead! And now I’m gonna lose you too!”
Upon hearing how broken he is, I say the only thing that comes to mind, my decision made up, even if it goes against my every rule, hoping to hell I can console him.
“T...turn...me...” My voice is hoarse and strangled from the blood still oozing out from between my lips, but I know he’ll hear me.
Sure enough, the blonde stiffens, his eyes fixing on me in surprise.
“What did you say?” He questions, tone laced with disbelief.
“Turn...me...” I repeat, lifting a hand to place it on his, weakly rubbing his frigid skin under the digit, reassuring him.
“Are you...are you sure?” For once, David looks genuinely caught off guard and unsure of himself, the moment of weakness a new idea for me to wrap my head around, though I know I will never bring it up again around him, should I survive this. Another wave of pain forces the deciding words from me, my voice strained.
“Yes, I can’t leave you alone. Not now, not ever.”
Seeing the seriousness in what I’m saying, as well as the truth, David carefully moves himself into the bed with me, cradling me against him as he uses a fingernail to slice into his wrist, lifting the bleeding appendage to my face. Pressing my lips against his pale akin, I don’t allow myself time to rethink my choices, sucking and licking at the wound feebly at first, until my strength picks up, the healing properties in his blood starting to re-energise me. A sigh escapes his lips above me, his other hand holding me tighter to his body, his grief momentarily forgotten by the joy at having me finally submit to him after all these years, the sensation of my lips on his arm reawakening a feeling he hasn’t felt in years.
Finally, I pull away, my head falling back onto his chest, my eyes rolling upwards to look into his, relief filling me as the pain subsides a bit, not quite leaving completely. Smiling down at me, David lifts one hand, which is covered in my blood, to his mouth, where he makes a show of licking each digit clean, moaning slightly at the taste. Blushing, I can only watch as he enjoys himself, allowing himself a little respite after everything that’s happened.
“Thank you, (Y/n).” He hums to me, genuinely grateful that I’ve decided to join him, glad that he won’t have to deal with his pain alone.
“Of course. No one should be alone. Especially not someone as lost as you.” I say to him, rolling over with some difficulty to rest my chin on his chest, staring up at him in sympathy.
A shocked look crosses over his face at my words, clearly unused to being shown genuine affection, his expression giving me the impression that he’s having some sort of internal conflict. It takes him a few minutes, but eventually he seems to make up his mind, using one hand to gently cup my chin and pull me closer to him, our faces centimetres apart. In my chest, my heartbeat picks up, butterflies forming under my skin as our lips brush, before he suddenly presses them together in a soft kiss. Surprised, I freeze for a second, only to kiss back as gladly as he does, joy blanking out the dull pain in my abdomen as our lips move together, his hand moving from my chin into my hair, pulling me closer until I run out of air, at which point we have to part.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.” David whispers to me, caressing my back with his other hand, a smile gracing his lips once more.
“I could say the same thing.” I respond, giggling a little, until a yawn interrupts me, my exhaustion finally catching up with me. My eyelids start to droop, my body comfortable against David's chest, despite the icy temperature, him clearly as happy to have me there as I am to be there.
“I'll help you complete the transition tonorrow, but for now, sleep well, (Y/n).” He says to me as I drift off, voice soft and gentle in my ears, lulling me to sleep.
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simple-heroics · 5 years
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Momo Yaoyorozu Fluff Alphabet | Part 1 | Letters A-L
Yes, yes, I know. My bias is showing. But Momo just radiates Distinguished Lesbian and my messy queer self gravitates to her for that. Please help me pull my life together, Yaomomo! 
Also, props to @sparkncharge​ for inspiring me to go Plus Ultra on a fluff alphabet. If you’re a Hawks stan, please check out her Fluff Alphabet for him. It’s amazing; I still reread it. Also, while you’re at it, read the rest of Lily’s work. Her blog is partially what inspired me to start Simple Heroics. 
credit to creator of the fluff alphabet prompt list here
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Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
Momo is pretty sheltered due to her upbringing and there is so much of the commoner’s world for her to discover outside of the little bubble she grew up in. She gets so giddy when you take her out exploring. With this, though, there is a strong, unspoken level of trust as well because it can take her out of comfort zone and even be a little intimidating. 
One of her favorite activities is thrift shopping! She loves going store to store, seeing all the random things being sold and wondering at the stories behind them. While she can create anything in the world, she can’t replicate the history behind a given object. Some of her favorite finds include: a pretty landscape painting by an unknown artist, secondhand novels with annotations inked in, even someone’s diploma from graduate school!
Just as you give her a taste of your world, Momo wants to share as much as hers as possible. So expect the occasional night out at an elegant restaurant, concert halls, tea ceremonies, you name it. Momo takes great delight in introducing you to new experiences.
Her ultimate favorite, though, is when both your worlds come together in the privacy of your shared home. Just you two and a pot of tea shared between you. And she can be herself. Not the class vice president, the Yaoyorozu heiress, or even the Everything Hero: Creati.
 Just Momo - your Momo.
Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
More than anything, Momo would admire a s/o with a strong sense of self - someone who knows who they are, where they come from, and what they want in life. Someone who is secure in themselves. Someone who not only accepts themselves but loves themselves, mistakes and all.
It’s the sort of confidence that doesn’t come from skill or achievements or any outside sources. It’s a strong, inherent sense of self-worth that’s unshakable, and it leaves Momo starstruck.
Momo isn’t one to place much value on things like physical appearance but in your case, the deeper she fell, the more beauty she found. There’s this natural allure about you that keeps drawing her in. 
You’re simply…you. Just you. And Momo can’t think of anything more beautiful.
Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
For better or for worse, Momo is very much a problem solver. Like, “What do you need? Do you want some mint tea? A hug? Want me to hold your hand? How can I help? Please let me help you.” 
Yeah, um, Mo? That works great for evacuation and rescue missions. Not so great when someone is having a panic attack. And sometimes, if they’re just feeling down, it’s less about what a person needs and more about just being there for them. It takes some talking for Momo to learn this but when she does, our girl adapts her approach accordingly. 
That said, Momo figures out one surefire way to comfort you on particularly gloomy days: Blanket forts. 
Yes, Momo is miss prim and proper and tends towards going for a more “practical” approach to most things. But blanket forts are fun. They’re also cozy and warm and make you feel safe. And it’s prime location for cuddling and sweet affection when you most need it.
Plus, she can make all the pillows you could ever want in there. Your blanket fort is magnificent, complete with only the softest of blankets and strung up fairy lights and Momo’s loving arms.
Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
For years, Momo’s greatest focus was her hero career – countless hours of study, training, and internships. Her brain was so crammed with the physical composition of everything to really think about a future.
Then you came along. 
Momo doesn’t have any grand fantasies; her reality is already adventurous enough. Her dreams for your future together are simple, humble imaginings not much different from your current life together except for you’re both older. Some silver threading into her dark hair, crow’s feet around your eyes.
Momo wants to continue this life with you for as long as possible. Her dream is to grow old together. Given her profession, she knows all too well not to take any single day for granted.
Simple or no, just thinking about living her entire life with you makes her giddy enough to call in 30 minutes early so she can get home to you faster.
Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
Neither. You’re partners, equals in this relationship. 
She trusts your judgement implicitly. Part of the reason Momo is in a relationship with you is because she respects you and holds you in a high regard. Likewise (and especially knowing her history with second guessing herself), you always ask for Momo’s input on things. 
H o w e v e r, that said, I do believe the roles can fluctuate in this relationship quite a bit. Momo can sometimes be strict with you in the sense that because she thinks so well of you, she knows you can do better and she pushes you. On other days, she herself can be rather passive. The key is communication.
The one thing Momo will never, ever waver on, though, is your safety. She isn’t overly protective by any means but is realistic and practical. And being the s/o of a high-ranking Pro-Hero comes with its own risks. Momo needs to where you’re at and that you’re safe. She personally ensures that you always, always have a way of getting in contact with her. If she herself cannot be reached, she makes sure you have pretty much all top 10 heroes on speed dial.
Seriously. Click any number on your cell. Any one of them is likely to be the personal phone number of Earphone Jack or Shoto or freaking Number One Hero Deku. (Creati is number 1, though. That’s your baby right there.)
Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
Thankfully, fights are rare. But when they happen, they’re serious. Extremely so. And honestly? I don’t want to see an angry Momo. 
She doesn’t yell or angry cry or insult you. Her expression is hard, resolute, as she makes her points in the argument while simultaneously cutting through every one of yours. 
Two things make arguments with Momo terrible: One, she’s too damn smart and makes some very good points that are hard to argue with. Two, because she’s smart and makes good points, it can feel like you’re being condescended to you like a child. 
And that never ends well.
Thankfully, Momo has a good outlook when it comes to arguments. She has a “us vs. the problem” mindset rather than a “me vs you” which in itself helps a great deal. Additionally, if she’s in a relationship with you, she knows you very well and can understand where you’re coming from.
That said, Momo is a patient, mature person who prefers prioritizes resolving problems and is quick to put things behind her. She is also very good at apologizing when she’s in the wrong but would expect the same in turn. 
Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
So, so grateful.
If anything, Momo is hyper aware of the things you do for her and this in turn motivates her to return the favor a hundred fold. This includes: extravagant dates at fancy restaurants, sending you to a spa when she herself can’t see you, making you tea almost every night, complimenting you when you’re just in sweats and a stained shirt, bringing you shopping for a new shirt and some Gucci sweatpants, taking you to see that movie you looked for to…at its actual screening event!
Momo is pulling out all the stops for you. Is she your girlfriend or your Sugar Mama? Perhaps both.
Every time you do anything for her, even something as small as grabbing something from a high shelf, she thanks you with a dazzling smile. You just make her feel so happy and so loved. Momo can’t thank you enough.
Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
Momo doesn’t get into the habit of hiding anything from you. However, that doesn’t mean she shares everything. There are some things she prefers to keep to herself and others she has to due to confidentiality in certain cases. 
She does, however, try to hide her insecurities from you. Momo wants you to see her as strong and capable, an intelligent leader who can be relied on. She’s learned to keep up a strong front, as any weakness a hero displays can easily be taken advantage of by a villain or torn apart by the press. The public needs a strong face. 
But you aren’t the public. Neither are you a villain out to exploit her weaknesses nor journalist looking for more fodder for tabloids. You’re her significant other, her life partner. 
You tell her as many times as she needs to hear this. It takes time and a lot of late night conversations and built up trust but eventually, you two get there.
Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?
Yes, absolutely yes. Momo learned that her self-worth shouldn’t be assigned to things like being the smartest student or the strongest hero or even as the best version of herself. She alone is more than adequate. 
As was mentioned in Activities, you also split her world wide open and made her realize the bubble she grew up in. It’s made her acknowledge her own privilege in a lot of ways which in turn made her more understanding of society is set up, especially in regards to her hero work. Momo becomes a far more compassionate hero when it comes time to suppress villains, understanding how life circumstances push some to make unfortunate choices. This realization in turn made Momo start finding other ways to help people outside of hero work, such as donating money to rehabilitation programs and advocating for changes in laws that reinforce the status quo.
As for you, Momo taught you how to let yourself be more sensitive and perhaps gentler. You learn to see people beyond the front they put up, how to recognize their insecurities. Your relationship with her has made you more compassionate as well, so that when you see anyone struggling with what your love sometimes does, you’re quicker to offer a comforting word or validation.
Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
Momo gets more insecure than jealous. Whenever she sees you spending a great deal of time with another person, she questions herself as a partner to you and consequently beats herself over it.
She remembers every canceled date, every missed phone call, every time she’s had to put you - the love of her life - second to her career. Then she berates herself for feeling guilty about prioritizing being a hero, someone who - you know - saves people. Why would she put a relationship before something so important?
But you weren’t just a mere “relationship”; you’re her world. But was she enough for you? How could she be when she was so busy all the time?
God forbid she starts comparing herself to the person you’re spending so much time with, especially if they’re funnier than her or more reliable or stronger or just more available than she is.
It’s an ongoing cycle and is honestly the saddest things in the world to watch, seeing this strong and capable woman destroy herself from the inside out. Unless she catches herself, Momo could potentially start self-sabotaging.
Please sit down with your girlfriend and talk to her. Please hold her hand as you reassure her that she is more than enough. Please have a long, serious talk about this before Momo breaks down.
After a series of conversations and perhaps some compromises in busy schedules, Momo doesn’t feel insecure very often. When she does, she learns to catch it and talk herself through it.
She reminds herself: You knew what being with a hero meant before you agreed to this relationship, and you’re proud of her. Your relationship is strong. You love her. 
And she loves you, too. So much. :’)
Also…lowkey, when she gets jealous, Momo probs spoils the hell out of you. I’m talking date night at a rented out restaurant, private gardens, expensive wine, the works. The most important part being that she’s taken this time for you and only you. 
Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?
Momo dreamed about your first kiss long before you two started dating, though she tries to deny it with a precious blush across her cheeks. She pictured it after a romantic evening, perhaps at her doorstep, with the moon and the stars and she would hold your hand before gently leaning closer and — 
Yeah, no. Your first kiss was nothing like that. 
It was after a long, hard day of training. Momo was sweaty and gross, covered in dirt, and her body was sore from the extensive use of her Quirk. She was so worn out that she barely even noticed you staring.
And boy, when she did, was she flustered. That is until at her you leaned closer to give her a soft peck on the lips.
“You worked hard out there. I’m really proud of you,” you told her simply.
Momo wouldn’t trade that first kiss for any fantasy in the world. 
Your future kisses, however, are certainly more…ahem. Involved than the first. All this to say…YES, Momo Yaoyorozu is absolutely a good kisser. I refuse to accept anything less and frankly, neither would she. She was shy and demure about it at first but when Momo does something, she does it well. 
Momo masters the art of sweet, lingering kisses that leave you breathless in their intensity. They usually start with a look, her eyes gently darkening as she takes you in. Her hands delicately touch the sides of your face, smoothing your hair behind your ears to allow her a better look. You can feel the flutter of her eyelashes as she leans in, her breath warm on her lips, before she meets them with her own. 
Her kisses are soft and gentle but no less intense. 
When she pulls back with a quiet hum, Momo rests her forehead against yours and smiles lovingly at your (understandably) dazed expression.
Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
Momo is so cute when she confesses. I know I’ve gushed about her time and again, and I definitely won’t stop anytime soon. 
Since her feelings for you first began, Momo held them close to her heart even when her mind is in a thousand other places with hero duties. It’s only later when she’s alone and quiet does she allow herself to focus on you – your smile, your sense of adventure, your honesty, the way your eyes light up, how you challenge her to go beyond plus ultra her comfort zone and grow as a person. 
How could someone like you be interested in someone like her? 
These feelings grew and grew, combating with Momo’s private insecurities. The more time she spends with you, though, the less they matter. You give her butterflies, yes, but you make her braver, too.
And brave is what she needs when she confesses.
Momo’s confession isn’t a spur of the moment thing. It’s planned - from the when to the how and even the where. She invites you somewhere private, somewhere she feels comfortable and is also meaningful to you both. Perhaps a garden or in the hidden corner of a tea shop you two frequent.
Momo has an entire speech planned. It’s formal and put together and she has it completely memorized but then –
She meets your eyes and suddenly, despite her ability to memorize the atomic structure of everything, that speech evaporates in her mind. She stutters, trying to grasp at the least beginning, and decides to - for once - let go of what’s “proper”. 
And like Todoroki said…Momo’s speciality is thinking under pressure.
Momo tells you everything: her first impression of when she met you, the first time you made her laugh, the way her eyes teared up during your first argument, her gratitude for that one time you stood up for her against Mineta, all the ways you inspire her, the way your voice is her favorite sound, and how you make her feel. 
You make her so happy and grateful and amused and dizzy and frustrated and emotional. You make her feel confident and so much braver than she actually is.
She takes your hands in hers, holding them like they are the most precious things in the world, and looks at you with shining grey eyes. In those eyes, you see someone so sure and certain of her feelings - her feelings for you.
“I love you, y/n. I love you dearly.”
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shieldedbythunder · 4 years
Note
Okay, but AU where Steve is a Viking and no one takes him seriously as a fighter because he's so small, but he prays every day to Thor to make him strong and Thor is impressed by Steve's determination, so he decides to help him and gradually falls in love with this fierce, scrappy fighter who jumps into fights to protect others in danger without thinking avout his own safety.
Matt, I am SO sorry for taking so long to get to some of your asks!! This one sounds especially cool!
Thor’s heard countless prayers in his name over the centuries, asking for protection, for strength and glory, for the blessing of a child. And usually, he finds it easier to maintain a distance from the mortals who call upon him - he can’t help everyone, after all. But over time, he starts hearing the same prayers for courage and strength from a young warrior, so skinny and small that Thor almost took him for a child the first time. His curiosity winning out over his better judgement, Thor travels to Midgard and visits the young man unseen.
The villagers may scoff at the idea of him fighting in battle, but in truth, Steven (Steve to his friends) has been fighting all his life. To make it through the first night after his birth, to draw a full chest of breath on his bad days, to provide for himself and his mother, and later just himself, after losing both of his parents. While he may never fight for his people, Steve still holds his head high and trains as best he can with his father’s shield. All he wants is to be useful to his people, to protect others. And though it often earns him a black eye or split lip from somebody twice his size, he never backs down from a fight if it keeps somebody else safe.
Thor finds himself impressed by Steve’s resolve and spirit, and decides to grant his prayers. Steve remembers almost nothing of it; the faintest impression of a dream one night, of a tall warrior with golden hair and a hammer at his belt laying a hand upon his forehead with a benevolent smile. But he wakes the next morning, awestruck at the knowledge that he has the Thunderer’s favour on his side.
Usually, that would be the end of it for Thor. Once a prayer is granted, he’ll return to his place in the ether and eventually forget whichever mortal he’s just visited. But there’s something about this man, with a heart too big for a body twice his size to contain, that beguiles him, and he finds himself returning to watch over Steve more and more frequently as the years pass.
Thor’s blessing makes itself evident in Steve’s body, slowly but surely. It starts small at first; he’s amazed to find he finds he can breathe more easily as time goes on, the illnesses that have plagued him since childhood finally starting to clear. By the time he goes into battle with his tribe for the first time, he’s grown a little taller and stronger, easily able to wield a shield and sword where they would have fatigued him within minutes before. Little by little, Steve continues to grow and change, until he stands tall and broad-shouldered with the best warriors in his village, a figure of great admiration to all. And yet, he remains the same kind and humble man that he was before, as Thor proudly notes.
Steve still offers daily prayers of thanks to Thor, his heart overflowing with gratitude for being given this gift. And Thor still visits him in dreams from time to time. At first he says nothing, merely nodding his thanks. But as time goes on, he and Steve begin to talk in the few minutes they spend together in dreams. They find amusement in how similar they are, stubborn men who just want to do what is right, and to the amazement of both, they begin to form something of a friendship. One that only strengthens and deepens as time goes on, leaving them both feeling empty and lonely when Steve wakes up alone and Thor returns to the ether.
Steve knows there are many who would like to see him wed. Pretty women from prosperous, influential clans, who would love to take a warrior of his renown as their husband and bear his children. But when he thinks of sharing his heart with someone, he finds his thoughts turning to bright blue eyes and strong hands on his shoulders, a warm laugh rumbling like the summer thunder. It’s laughable, perhaps even blasphemous to think, but he’s fallen in love with Thor. 
Little does he know that Thor feels the same for him; he’s come to realise that, in truth, he began to love Steve when he first looked into his soul and saw his spirit shining brighter than any star. But he’s left anguished at the thought that Steve’s life will be as brief as a mayfly’s. They say nothing of it when they meet in dreams, but savour every moment and touch that they share, letting themselves believe that what they long for is possible for a few short minutes.
Eventually, the day Thor’s been dreading comes. Invaders sail in from England, seeking to take the land from these savage heretics, and Steve, naturally, is on the front lines defending his home. It happens when he’s trying to cover an escaping family as they flee from a group of soldiers. Even outnumbered five to one, Steve manages to hold them off long enough for the family to get to safety. But one of the last to go down uses his last strength to run Steve through with a sword, a terrible, blinding pain that whites everything else out and leaves him certain that not even Thor will be able to save him now. Little does he know as he falls to his knees, clutching the hacked remnants of his father’s shield, that Thor has already made up his mind.
Everything’s going dark, his last thought one of relief that the family made it to safety, when Steve feels arms around him, lifting him up. When he can finally see again, he’s greeted by the sight of Thor, looking nervous as he clasps something between his hands. Even in his confusion and shock from knowing he’s dead, the sight of his old friend and love puts Steve’s mind at ease.
Thor’s words are halting when he welcomes Steve to the halls of his ancestors, his rightful resting place in Valhalla. He tells of what an privilege it has been, to see Steve grow into the mighty, honourable warrior that Thor saw inside him all those years ago, and to call him a friend. But there’s something else he’d like to call Steve, something infinitely dearer to his heart if Steve would permit him. Words failing him, Thor opens up his hands, and Steve is left speechless as he’s handed one of Idunn’s golden apples, the secret to godhood and immortality.
He is under no obligation, Thor stammers, uncertain for the first time in his thousands of years, and it would be a great deal to ask of him when he has already given so much in Thor’s name. But if Steve would just give him the chance to give him the happiness he deserves - he never gets further than that. In three steps, Steve closes the distance between them and kisses him, hands framing his face, strong and sure in that way that’s so Steve that Thor wants to laugh and cry with happiness all at once. 
To live forever in Asgard would be no hardship at all, Steve laughs as he bites into the golden apple, as long as Thor would always be by his side. And so they are remembered in legend, side by side, hand in hand, brothers in arms and love.
This was lovely to think about. I’d really recommend Slatgjof and its sequel if you want a fic with a similar prompt, it’s a wonderful story!
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anistarrose · 5 years
Text
Entropy (The Owl House)
Summary: As a witch, Eda thrives on unpredictability and chaos. Unfortunately, so does her curse.
Word count: 1734
Warnings: mild violence, but it’s no darker than the show itself
AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/22518526
The first of what I expect will eventually become many Owl House fics from me! This story is set a few months before Luz’s arrival to the demon realm, but also has some big spoilers for Episode 4, so beware!
***
Eda believes that unpredictability is a witch’s best friend. Magic should always be a little wild, a little feral, a little chaotic, a fickle force of nature that keeps its users on its toes. Predictable magic is weak magic, diluted magic, practically homeopathic magic that’s left with nary a spark of what once made it so fierce and formidable.
This is the philosophy that’s made Eda the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles. It’s the philosophy that’s helped her dodge imprisonment for decades. It’s even the reason why against her better judgement, she invited a scrawny little demon with an extreme superiority complex into her home — and as loathe as she is to admit it to King’s face, the little wannabe tyrant has brightened up more of her days than she’d ever expected.
Adherence to a status quo leads only to stagnant magic. Routine makes the bile in Eda’s heart run dry. Variety is the spice of life, and despite all the challenges she’s had to overcome — or perhaps even because of them — Eda is living.
But the most potent curses are always the most ironic ones. The ones that weave themselves not out of foreign magic, but out of the victim’s own nature, turning strengths into weaknesses and prides into secret shames.
In Eda the Owl Lady’s case, this means that her curse is very wild, very feral, very chaotic, and never predictable. When the feathers begin to sprout and she feels the telltale pinpricks of quills in her hair, when her fangs begin to elongate and her stomach makes its appetite known through bloodcurdling growls, she only has a matter of minutes at best before she loses herself — only a few minutes, at best, to find her elixir and stave off her transformation.
And if there’s no elixir in reach to be found, well… her last few moments of lucidity are best spent ensuring that no one will be around to see her in this state, both for her sake and theirs.
***
Eda is unceremoniously tossed into a Conformatorium cell, unable to get to her feet before the cold iron anti-magic gate slides down in front of her. The gaps between the rungs look plenty wide enough for King to slip through, which means either the guards haven’t noticed him shuddering and trying to hide in Eda’s arms, or they just don’t care enough about whether he escapes to bother securing him better.
“The Warden will be seeing you shortly, Owl Lady!” one guard barks from behind his beaked black mask. “I’m sure the two of you will have plenty to discuss!”
As their jailers leave, King wriggles out of Eda’s arms. “Are they gone?” he meekly asks, poking his snout out between the bars and peering down the hallway.
“Yes, but not for long,” Eda grunts as she attempts to draw a small spell circle in the air. A few sparks surround her fingertip, but fizzle out before the circle is complete. “Drat. They learned their lesson from the last time I broke out of this place.”
“Then looks like it’s the King of Demons’ turn to save the day!” King declares, raising a tiny fist. “And what better place to find recruits for my army of darkness than here, in this cesspool of sinister machinations and forbidden black magics!”
He pokes his head into the adjacent cell, in which a demon with foot-long pointed nails leans against a wall. “You there! You look like a foul, black-hearted creature if I’ve ever seen one! How about you join my prison riot?”
“Are you joking? There’s nothing foul or black-hearted about overthrowing an unjust government institution that misuses its authority,” the demon scoffs, continuing to polish their nails. “Come back and talk to me again if you think of something that’s really evil.”
Muttering to himself and shaking his head, King trots over to the prisoner on the opposite side of Eda’s cell. “How about you? You’ve got a lot of life left ahead of you — do you really want to spend it all in a prison?”
The baby in the cell ignores him, preoccupied with repeatedly stabbing a knife into the floor.
King trudges back to Eda’s side, head hanging. Very quietly, he asks: “Eda, what if I’m just not cut out for demonic tyranny?”
“Oh, don’t be silly.” Eda rubs his head. “I’ve never seen a demon more power-hungry than you are, you evil little thing. And hey, it’s not all bad — now you know exactly what types of demons not to recruit for your army of darkness!”
King’s mood immediately lightens. “You’re right, I just need to look on the bright side of things! Like how at least you didn’t have your staff with you today, so it’s not going to end up locked away in the warden’s contraband pile!”
Eda tries to retort that if she’d had her staff, she never would’ve gotten captured in the first place — but her throat has gone dry. After all, she hasn’t had anything to drink in hours.
Why do the torches in the hallway suddenly hurt to look at?
“All they actually confiscated was that orange potion you were drinking,” King goes on, completely oblivious. “Good thing they didn’t take anything important, ha!”
Eda runs a hand through her hair. Her fingers graze quills, sprouting from her scalp.
No! Not here, not now! Not in front of —
“King, you have to leave,” she hisses, falling to her knees and clutching her chest. “Squirm through the bars and run. I’ll catch up later.”
“Are you serious? I’m not leaving you!” King exclaims. “I can’t fly back home unless you carry me!”
He’s so precious.
So stubborn.
such dumb, easy prey
“I know a way to break out of here, but it’s — it’s — you’ll just get caught in the crossfire if you stay.” Eda claps one hand over her mouth, hiding her extending fangs, and with her free hand, picks up King by the scruff of his neck and stuffs him through one of the holes in the iron grate. “The guards will all be distracted in just another minute or two, so don’t waste your chance! Run and meet me back at the Owl House!”
no, little demon
come back inside, little squirrel creature
Halfway across the Conformatorium’s main chamber, a door creaks open, and King finally takes it as his cue to bolt.
so bright
too bright
can’t see
kill the lights
“Eda the Owl Lady!” Warden Wrath’s voice echoes. “I’ve been waiting so long for this moment…”
new demon
bigger demon?
bigger meal
Warden Wrath is wholly unprepared for the explosion of claws and feathers that tears through iron like it’s parchment, then barrels out of the Owl Lady’s cell with a scream that would cause a banshee to lose their voice for a week. The monster rakes a clawed hand across the wall, shredding half a dozen torches into tinder with a single blow — then turns to face Wrath, baring her fangs and grinning.
Wrath has read of the bloodthirsty strixes, the owlishly metamorphosed victims of potent curses — but he’s never encountered one face-to-face, never stared into these black eyes that are simultaneously so empty and so cunning. A lesser warden might turn tail and flee, but Wrath knows his duty.
Strixes are unnatural. Improper. Unpredictable. Feral.
Unsuitable for society, but a worthy opponent for him.
He charges, swinging a scythe-hand, and Eda effortly catches it with her fangs. She swings Wrath around like a toy, sending him careening into the wall — but he has a trick up his sleeve, and he transforms his hand into a hammer that pries Eda’s jaws open before she can extricate her teeth from his flesh.
Wrath laughs as Eda recoils, as she spits out dark ichor and shards of shattered yellow fangs. The acidic ichor sizzles as it lands on the cobblestone floor, and its ghastly smell reaches Wrath even through the herb-stuffed beak of his mask.
Seeing their warden stagger backwards from the pool of acid, two guards rush Eda — a mistake, they realize a few seconds too late. They add a degree of entropy to the battle that the strix exploits, whirling around and delivering two powerful kicks from her rear legs — and before Wrath can even admonish his inferiors, they’ve been flung on top of him, their heavy metal armor pinning him to the ground.
Eda licks her lips, advancing slowly, savoring the moment. A tiny drop of icor dribbles down her chin from the corner of her mouth, and her batlike ears twitch with delight.
Wrath’s arms are pinned, and any sudden shapeshifting movement will surely provoke the strix to lunge before he can get an attack off. Unable to remove his mask, yet left with no other option, he points his head at Eda as best as he can, and opens his mouth.
As the spout of flame incinerates the likeliness of a raven beak and spills out to fill the hall, Eda screeches and extends her wings so quickly that a sonic boom tears though the Conformatorium. Cast-iron gates are shattered, cobblestone is pulverized into rubble, and leagues of demons and witches run free.
Nearly overwhelmed by the stampede, Wrath staggers to his feet just in time to see the strix take flight, and soar out the skylight at the top of the prison dome.
***
Eda awakens beneath a tree, scattered patches of feathers still present where the early-morning sunlight hasn’t yet crept through the leaves to dapple her skin. As she collects herself and steps out into the direct sunlight, her transformation fully reverts — though her stomach still grumbles for flesh and blood. She’ll just have to get home quickly and quell it with an elixir, instead.
When she walks into the Owl House, King almost immediately springs into her arms and breaks down sobbing. “I was so worried! I ran like you said but I heard so much screaming and I saw something get lit on fire and I wasn’t sure if that was what you meant to do or —”
“I never do exactly what I mean to do,” Eda tells him, forcing a smile. “It wouldn’t be very wild and unpredictable of me if I did, would it?”
She sets King down on the couch. “But you can always count on one thing — I’m never leaving home without my magic staff again.”
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galaxy-parchment · 4 years
Text
Vampire AU
1 : 2 : 3 : 4 : 5 : 6  : 7 : 8 : 9 : 10 : 11 : 12 : 13 : 14 : 15 (you are are)
This is finally finished! Good lord that took a while I expected this to be half as long as it ended up being. As usual please leave comments/tags/replies of what you thought of the overall story (its okay you can be honest) and feel free to send any asks at any time if you ever want me to answer any questions. 
--
Jekyll led the way out of the office and stared down the expectant, though well-guarded, crowd before them, courtesy of Rachel brandishing that knife she never seemed to put down.
Lanyon tried not to look weak under all the glares he was getting, but he’d seen how insane these people could be. If this went wrong he’d be lucky to get the chance to flee London. Despite his obviously fake courage, he stood his ground beside Jekyll, who inhaled deeply, about to speak. He held onto the breath for a moment and exhaled it out into his first words.
“I know you’re scared, and confused, and angry, and feeling a lot of strong feelings about the situation, but please hear me out,” he paused, hoping his pleas weren’t falling on deaf ears.
Some people’s expressions didn’t change, but the air of curiosity and general lack of outburst prompted Jekyll to continue. 
“I think we of all people should understand that everyone deserves a second chance,”some heads rose in recognition, “and the opportunity to be a part of a community of like-minded individuals. Individuals who won’t hold judgement against them.” Jekyll glanced back at him, jerking his head slightly to them, still observing. Lanyon took a moment to realise that Jekyll wanted him to speak. Of course. Bloody hell.
He shifted, moving to Jekyll’s side, and could swear he felt himself sweating despite his physical incapability to do so. “I’m… sorry for my… outburst… yesterday. I swear that I didn’t intend to actually harm anyone and was fully aware that Luckett wasn’t in his room that evening,” he insisted, his voice almost breaking from how nervous he was.
“Why’d you do it then?“ called Pennybrygg, who was one of the few lodgers still accompanying the now less frazzled Luckett.
“I was… er… acting on… some…. personal issues…” Lanyon attempted to get out, mumbling the end in shame. He directed his gaze towards Luckett, who was looking quite annoyed at him. “I’d be happy to help you restore your room, however, Mr Luckett.” He was relieved to see him ponder on it for a moment and grumpily nod his head with a grunt. Lanyon’s lacklustre explanation earned him some unimpressed faces, but Luckett’s acceptance of the offer seemed to stop anyone from protesting.
Jekyll cleared his throat, drawing attention away from Lanyon, who was clearly not used to speaking to this sort of audience. “We’re all people who have an appreciation for the strange, the macabre, the odd. To make things right with all of you who feel violated by having the presence of a vampire in your lives for so long, Dr Lanyon has agreed to allow you to ask for his help in any experiments that may require… someone such as himself… in them.”
That sparked some excited murmurs. Within seconds any mention of doubt or annoyance was lost and overpowered by a lively discussion about the possibilities this opened up. Questions were being yelled out at the two of them about what exactly they were allowed to do. The first few questions were answered but it soon became an impossible task.
Lanyon felt himself being dragged away by the arm. It took him a moment to actually look down at who it was. He was relieved to see Rachel. She didn’t seem to look as angry as he’d thought. If anyone in the building had a right to be upset with him it was certainly Rachel. All he could see in her eyes was gentle sympathy.
“I’m guessing that this is why you never eat my garlic chicken?” she asked, giving him a reassuring grin. Lanyon found himself slowly being led away from the lodgers, somehow unnoticed by them.
“No, actually, it turns out I actually can eat garlic. I’m just not a fan of chicken.” He chuckled back at her.
She huffed, half-giggling as she did, “And here I thought you’d at least use the opportunity to make an excuse for yourself!” They both took the opportunity to laugh off the tension of the situation. They both drifted into silence and Lanyon saw Rachel’s happy expression weaken into something inexplicably sad.
“Rachel, I’m sorry I never said anything to you - I didn’t want you worrying about me. Jekyll’s already a handful on a bad day.”
“You didn’t have to worry about me, Lanyon. I’m built tough, you know that,” she smiled, giving him a friendly nudge on the arm.
“I haven’t destroyed any hopes of you trusting me in the future, have I? Aside from Jekyll, I don’t really have many other people I can call a friend.”
She stared at him for a moment before breaking out into the most genuine laugh she’d let out for the whole conversation. “You’re not all that bright for a Doctor, are you? You think something like being a vampire is gonna scare me off?” She looked back at the crowd of lodgers bombarding an overwhelmed Jekyll with questions, some relating to the news and others drifting off to other topics, then back to Lanyon. “I live here, I can handle a little bit of craziness.”
Lanyon smiled at her with such a pure, light relief he feared he’d start floating where he stood. Rachel glanced at the nearest set of stairs and tilted her head towards it.
“Come on, you’d better get started on cleaning up Luckett’s room. I’ll grab some supplies for you.”
“I don’t suppose I’ll be getting any help with my least favourite type of labour, would I?”
Rachel placed a firm hand on his back and pushed him towards the stairs alongside her. “Don’t be ridiculous, Doctor, what kind of a redemption would that be?”
Despite how heartwarming the moment was, Lanyon was starting to dread this whole ‘apology’ business.
-
Everything was, astonishingly, quite normal after yesterday’s events.
Granted the extremely emotionally moving speech Jekyll gave was quite a substantial factor in the amazing outcome. Lanyon was nonetheless eternally grateful for the good reception he was getting.
He still got some stern looks in the Society and a few mild threats as he passed through the halls. He also got some very invasive questions about how his physiology worked, not that he entirely knew himself. Everything was otherwise quite normal considering he’d been revealed to be one of the most heinous types of beast in all of London.
He did appreciate that Jasper fellow’s offer to get him a less… morally ambiguous… source of human blood that he used to feed some of his pets. He wasn’t quite sure how much he would like where the blood came from, but it was probably better than murdering whatever poor sap was stupid enough to get drunk in the East End.
He might have to lie about how much blood he needed and get some for Jekyll as well.
-
Jekyll carried his hefty case of equipment upstairs. He’d almost forgotten she was there. Alas, forgetting didn’t mean she didn’t exist, so upon being reminded by an off-handed comment from Rachel he made his way over.
She looked very comfortable, bundled up in her blankets reading a book. It appeared to be new so he assumed it was a gift from one of her new adoring fans. She looked up at him and, strangely enough, smiled at him. Jekyll would be lying if he said that didn’t put him on edge at all.
He went through the usual routine. Say hello, open the case, make her medicine for the day and make sure she took it. She had this demeanour about her, though. Whenever he said anything, did anything, even took a moment to look at her, she had this mischievous grin, like she had some brilliant secret she was desperate not to tell. Eventually his curiosity got the better of him as she downed his medicine.
“What’s got you so… cheerful… today?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“I’m so glad you asked, Doctor.” She casually fiddled with her own gloved hand, keeping that smirk on her face. “I was listening in on yesterday’s commotion, quite an outstanding resolution I must say. I personally wouldn’t have even noticed your friend was a vampire, since I’ve never even met him.” She looked up at him. “But I couldn’t help but think about how you always act.”
“What do you mean?” Jekyll asked carefully, keeping his voice as level as he could.
“Oh, nothing much, just how you’re pale some days and the next day you look flush as ever. How you talk less whenever your skin becomes quite pale. The way your eyes twitch ever so slightly whenever you give me intravenous medicines…”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Hmph, I thought you would be much more open at this point, but I suppose keeping up your facade is quite important. I believe you are a vampire, Doctor. A drainer, as you Londoners tend to call them.”
Jekyll’s blood would have run colder if it could. “That’s ridiculous, are you sure you don’t have a fever or something?” He began packing his things, sending her the message that he was about to leave.
She rested her chin on her elbow, which was propped up on her knee. “Really, Doctor Jekyll, I promise I won’t tell.” He stopped for a moment and stared her down, looking for some hint that she wasn’t toying with him. It was impossible to see through all of that smugness. She was obviously having some fun with this.
“Really?”
“Yes. It appears I may have thought you to be the wrong variant of blood-sucker. I much prefer a creature of the night than some pompous buffoon. A lot more fun to deal with, so I will let this slide for now. Creature insists that being disliked will be the least of your problems if I come to harm, anyway,” she said as she gestured to the monster in question, who simply gave a stern nod to him that Jekyll acknowledged solemnly.
“T-thank you, Frankenstein.”
“Of course, we beasts of humanity must live in harmony.” He wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with that comment.
Jekyll packed the rest of his things and quietly stepped out of the room, keeping an eye on them as he left. The grin didn’t leave Frankenstein’s face, but it didn’t seem as menacing as it did before. Instead it was more playful. Once he closed the door behind him, he let a tense sigh escape him. 
He reminded himself to yell at Hyde a bit for getting bitten in the first place.
17 notes · View notes