#It was a large iced long black so maybe that’s why it was so bad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

weministertomonsters · 9 months ago

Text

A Shift In Character - 2

Tagging those who wanted Part 2 👀 @a-catgirl @red-white-black @otherworldly-creatures-blog

The music pounds in your ribcage and you grimace, weaving through the crowd with one hand clamped on the top of your cup to keep the contents safe. A few people shoot interested looks your way, but you didn't come here to have fun tonight. You don't find the man. Rather, he finds you.

"Looking for someone, darling?" a familiar voice rasps in your ear as large hands tug you back against a firm chest.

You gasp and try to steady your cup.

"Do you enjoy sneaking up on people?" You demand, startling when his lips brush against your neck.

"He left you unsatisfied again," he says.

You twist around to face him. "How do you know? It's like you're reading my mind."

"I have a way with these things," he grins, pulling you even closer. "You were upset and you came to find me. Should I be flattered?"

"Don't think too much of it. I only want to get laid," you hear yourself say.

You should stop now, a small voice in your head pipes up. You're going to regret this.

The devil on your shoulder cackles. When was the last time you slept with your husband? And here you have a good-looking stranger offering to give you what he won't. This is a rare opportunity, don’t waste it.

Someone bumps you and your hand jerks, tipping your drink all over you. The chips of ice in it stick to your skin and you gasp.

"Apologize," your Mystery Man glowers with anger and grabs the arm of the person who bumped into you.

The person turns around. It's a young man who's covered in tattoos. He looks a little spaced out.

"My bad bro," he says. "Sweet dress though."

It's a nightgown. You weren't thinking when you stormed out of your apartment, in fact, you’d even forgotten that was what you were wearing. So that's why the taxi driver was staring at you in the rearview mirror the entire time. You grab the edges of your jacket and pull it closed.

"It's fine," you say. "Shit happens."

But your mystery man doesn't look satisfied.

"Not good enough," he says, before he punches the guy right in the face.

Like wildfire, the fight spreads until several people are pushing and shoving at each other. You stumble into a corner, rubbing your upper arm where a stray punch caught you.

"I should have just stayed home," you mumble.

Mystery Man pops out of the fray, laughing. He's bleeding from a small cut on his eyebrow.

"Let's get out of here," he says, grabbing your hand.

"And go where exactly?" You stumble after him, glad that you're wearing sensible shoes.

"I know a place. Do you trust me?"

"What a cheesy question. Of course not."

Something about him is compelling though, so despite your words you follow him anyway. You're not under the influence of alcohol this time, so you're very aware something is a little off. You want to know what it is.

"The park?" You utter as he leads you into it. "That's what you had in mind? Great spot for murder."

He releases your hand and backs a few feet away from you, opening his arms wide. "I'm not going to hurt you, Jane Doe."

"Haha, very clever play on words there. So you don't know my name? We didn't introduce ourselves last week?"

"You were too busy playing with me to care."

Your cheeks warm up and you look away, digging your hands into the pockets of your jacket.

"Maybe it's better this way, not knowing who I am, I mean," you mumble, shivering as the wind curls around your bare legs.

"Cold?"

"Yeah. Going out like dressed like this was a bad move."

"C'mere. I can warm you up."

It's not the best idea and not the safest, but you decide to throw caution to the wind. You step into his arms and let them envelop you. He's surprisingly warm, even though all he's wearing is a thin, long-sleeved shirt.

"You're a strange man," you murmur with your cheek pressed against his chest, hoping your makeup isn't ruining his shirt.

"Funny, I get that a lot,” he says, pushing your hair to the side and pressing his lips against your neck.

You shiver, and not from the cold this time. The bite he gave you has long since healed and you're not sure whether you want to push him away or let him do it again. No words are exchanged, but he seems to sense the moment when you give up your internal struggle. He tips your face up to his, smirking. His smile looks painfully sharp.

"Your teeth," you murmur.

"Do you care?" He asks, licking his bottom lip.

"I probably should," you hum, and then you kiss him.

This is what you were missing. Sparks fly up your arms and tingle against your lips as you drag him closer. You're overwhelmed by the desire deep inside to bite him, mark him, make him yours. He lets you do whatever you want, pushing him into the grass and nipping at his neck. You like his cologne. It's a musky, natural scent. You make a mental note to ask him later, so you can douse your stupid husband in the stuff.

He’s is receptive to your touch, sighing appreciatively, almost growling. That rough sound makes your pussy ache. You're breathless, panting for air as you yank at his belt. If you had shaken yourself out of your haze long enough, you would have noticed his eyes glowing as his head rested in the grass. You would have noticed his sharpened fingernails and the sudden broadness of his body. You would have been afraid.

Midnight blue clouds blot out the light of the moon until you can barely see him. That's okay. You straddle his hips, straightening up so you can concentrate on undoing his belt.

"That's it," he practically drawls. "Take what you want. I'm all yours."

You finally get his belt loose and toss it, then go gentle with the zipper. You don't want to hurt him. His hands are trembling, digging into the generous softness of your hips. His nails are almost too sharp.

You open up his jeans and find he doesn't have underwear on, which makes you smile. Did he do that for you? In the dark, your hands feel the shape and size of him, and you pause when you feel how thick he is at the base. He bucks at your touch.

"Go on, take me. Are you really want to back out now?" He goads.

"No," you hiss back. "Shut up."

You bite your lip and shimmy out of your underwear, tossing it somewhere in the grass. You straddle him again and press his cock against your dripping entrance. Oh, he's big.

You have to brace a hand against his chest and force yourself to take it slowly. It burns in the most delicious of ways. Each breath he takes in is accompanied by an unnatural growl. Something dangerous is happening here. You put a hand up to his face and feel his beard. You slide your hand along his neck, and the scruff seems to go much farther than that. You put both hands on his chest and lean down, squinting at his face and glowing eyes.

Your eyes open wide and you suck in a breath to make a sound, maybe a startled scream, and he clamps his hand over your mouth and pushes his hips up into you, thrusting in as deep as he can go with a triumphant sound. If your thighs weren't spread open so wide, they would have snapped shut. You hiss against his hand but can't offer anything more than that. You lean limply against him as his arms hold you up, and take what he gives you, bunching up his shirt in your fists.

Your eyes are wide and your heart patters in your chest. You're terrified and so, so turned on. This is no man. The meager moonlight lets you see just enough to know that. He's sneering up at you with a mouth full of far too many teeth, with twitchy pointed ears hidden in his hair, and with eyes that glint in cruel amusement. He has you trapped and you both know it.

But even if he pressed those brutish hands of his against the ground to signify your chance at freedom, for you to jump up and run, you wouldn't leave him. You can't because it feels too good. A silent tear rolls down your cheek and he pulls you down and licks it away, rumbling in pleasure.

"I like it when they fight it," he whispers in your ear.

That's the deal breaker. They? They?? You smack him and roll off to the side, snarling in your own angry, human way. He laughs again, flips you over on your back, and drags you closer. Your legs flop over his as he sits on his haunches in front of you.

"We're not done yet," he says, and his cock throbs against your stomach.

You look down. A timely gap in the clouds gives enough moonlight for you to realize he's not human down there either. You begin to shudder uncontrollably.

"There, there. You liked it just fine before," he chuckles.

The hulking mass of his body presses down on you again.

"I'm still me, sweetheart," he says as he thrusts into you again.

You inhale that primal scent of his and clutch his shoulders, deciding between holding him closer or pushing him away.

"I... I made a mistake," you whimper, your breath hitching as he rocks into you. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. What kind of hunter would I be then?"

"Please don't kill me!" You squeak. "I'll be good, I promise."

He shows his teeth. "Then start by shutting the fuck up. If it's not a sound of pleasure I don't want to hear it."

That makes you throb hard around him.

"So that's what you like, hmm?" Smugness vibrates through him and you hate him for figuring it out.

He begins to move his hips and you begin to lose your senses again. He barely fits and each slow thrust reminds you of that. The tension in your body melts away, and he returns to praising you.

"Accept me, darling. Let me in. There we are. That wasn’t so difficult, is it?"

"Harder," you beg. "Please."

When you asked, you didn't expect him to take your request and run with it. You jump as his hips bunch forward and he crams himself into you. All but the very base of him, which is so thick there's no way it can fit. Your moans become staccato and you cling to him for dear life because it feels like he's about to tip you off a cliff into an abyss of pleasure.

"Go on," he growls in your ear, panting just as hard as you. "You want to."

I'm scared, you think. I'm so fucking scared of how this ends.

There's little you can do to stop your orgasm. You squirm and dig your fingernails into his arms and he only laughs at you. The sensations running through you are so intense you're nearly sobbing. When all semblance of control slips out of your fingertips, you're completely lost. You register him picking up his pace, slamming so obscenely into you that you're going to feel it tomorrow.

"Come on," he says through gritted teeth and you can only whimper in response.

What more can he possibly want from you? You've given everything you have. Well, almost everything. With one last brutal thrust, the rest of him slips into you with such finality that you lose your breath and climax again, shivering from the heat and the cold, the pain and the pleasure. Now he’s definitely too big.

He's heavy on top of you even though he's supporting most of his body weight on his hands. He's openly purring now; there is no way you can pretend that's normal. You press a hand down between you and feel the place where you're joined together.

"What did you do?" You gasp. "What the hell did you do?"

"Relax," he says, rolling onto his back and gently pulling you on top of him.

You can feel his cock still pulsing inside of you and you lie limply against him and feel the small twitches of his hips, the way he stiffens at intervals, the way heat seems to keep pouring into you.

"None of it makes sense," you whisper. "You're stuck inside me."

"Deep down, you've already figured it out," he says.

No. No, it can't be.

Your phone lights up in the grass, an arm’s reach away and you see the screen.

Stay where you are, I'm coming to get you, the text message reads.

You grab your phone and see that you sent a text a few minutes ago that says:

I'm in the park. I think I'm in trouble, please come.

You didn't send that text.

"You..." You begin to tremble in anger.

You forget that you're still tied to him and when you try to sit up you both yelp in pain.

"See, I've staged it perfectly. He's not going to blame you," Mystery Man groans.

"You're sick!" You snap, squirming uselessly in his lap. "I should've never come looking for you again."

His features look more normal now like he's regained control of himself. A minute goes by. You shut your eyes and take in deep breaths. When you open your eyes, his own flick towards something in the distance. You snap your head around, dreading your husband finding you in this position, stuck to another man who isn't even human. It's too dark for you to see what he's looking at though.

With your head turned like that, he has the perfect angle and opportunity to bite you. You let out a bloodcurdling scream as his teeth sink in. This is a real bite and you can feel the blood trickling down your skin and soaking into your nightgown.

And then you hear your husband calling your name.

"Nathan!" You scream.

You yank yourself away, hissing in pain as his cock finally pops out of you. You fall into the grass.

And then there's the glare of a light against you. You roll over and squint up into it. You know you look terrible; leaves in your hair and dirt and blood on your skin, and cum dripping from between your legs. Indeed, it's perfectly staged. You look like a victim.

Mystery Man rises, zipping up his jeans which hang loosely on his hips. His belt is lost in the grass somewhere along with your underwear.

"What the hell?" Nathan demands, his gaze bouncing between the two of you.

You scramble unsteadily to your feet and humiliatingly, you feel more cum leaks down your thigh.

"Nathan," you gasp.

Mystery Man laughs. "She screamed for you," he says to your husband.

That's a lie, and a very deliberately worded one at that.

Oh god, no, you think as you realize exactly what he said that for.

Nathan doesn't hesitate to drop his phone and blindly attack the man, fighting valiantly, and stupidly for your honor. But Nathan doesn't know this guy, he hasn't seen him the way you have. He's going to rip your husband to shreds.

"Stop!" You shriek, but neither of them listen.

You stand there with your hands pressed to your mouth, horrified. Mystery Man is far stronger than Nathan, that much is clear. He's toying with him, letting him stumble around as he tries to land a punch. Despite being bulkier, Mystery Man moves like air.

"Nathan, no! He's dangerous!" You call out, crying.

This isn’t what you wanted, or even imagined would happen. Nathan is lost to the world. He charges at the man again, and the man crushes him in a hug and takes them both down. They roll down a small hill in a tangle of limbs and you stumble after them, pleading for your husband's life.

Nathan begins to yell curses and threats. You want to call the police, but you discover your phone is missing and Nathan's is crushed on the ground. Your heart sinks when you hear Nathan make a sound, a sort of high-pitched squeal.

"Fucking hell, he's biting me!" He yelps.

You crash onto the ground beside them and punch the man, scratch his body, you even sink your teeth into his arm.

For a moment you're face to face with him, his glimmering eyes watching you silently with his teeth buried in Nathan's neck. Nathan is leaning back on his elbows, his head tilted away from you. His breathing is harsh and panicked. He's unable to form words, all he can do is whine. Your blunt teeth are hardly doing any damage, but you clamp down as hard as you can until you taste blood on your tongue. You feel like an animal too, kneeling on the ground over your husband.

Finally, Mystery Man releases Nathan and he falls heavily onto the floor, staring up at the sky in a daze. You let Mystery Man's hand go and spitting blood to the side, you cradle Nathan to your chest.

"You've killed him," you sob.

Nathan's breath rattles in his throat. He’s not dead yet.

"He'll live," Mystery Man says, picking himself off the ground.

You gape up at him, hurt, scared, angry.

"I'm giving you what you want," he says. "You wanted your husband to love you."

"But how? How does this make sense? He's bleeding all over me. He's going to die!"

"Men generally have it harder. In a few minutes, he'll be fine. Take him back to your home and keep him there until he's back to himself. Understood?"

Dazed and helpless, you nod.

Mystery Man drops your phone beside you and begins to walk away. His voice drifts back towards you from the darkness.

"He's yours now. Completely."

And then his footsteps fade away, and you're left clutching your broken, bleeding husband.

Part 3

#exophilia #terato #monster x reader #monster lover #monster x human #monster smut #nsft

79 notes · View notes

st-armand · 1 year ago

Text

Plug!Hobie x Fem!Reader Part 1

( Reposted from @armands-sanctum ) Authors Note: All fanfictions I make for Hobie are in the worldbuilding of him living in New London, a re-colonized NYC by British V.E.N.O.M. operatives. This is more like a vomit of words then a headcanon but all of my headcanons are like that. Might make the move to AO3 if I keep getting banned

CW: Weed smoking, suggestive imagery, detailed descriptions of a specific body types, fem!reader, terrible black british slang, not beta read

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist • Part 2

Plug!Hobie who you meet on a particularly sweltering day, relaxing with a group of alternatives smoking outside—your sweet perfumes and oils blending in with the droplets sweat that bead on your skin.You’re frustrated with work/school/life and all you need is a quick high, a joint, especially after going about your day smelling other people smoke, now you’re craving it bad, so bad in fact you lose all inhibitions towards going up to strangers and asking them to sell you drugs.

He's done up in dreadfully low waisted, tight black jeans—ripped and littered with patches, that compliment his long-limbed body, intricate belts that you know have to be a pain in the ass to take off when peeing, and a cropped band tee ‘Black Liver’— on summer days like this Hobie would exclaim, “ T’ hot to be all done up” opting for the easiest outfits, like a Nike tech-wear, or a pair of adidas sweats that you gifted him, since you despise the look of Nike clothing, he chided on you about buying from corporative fast fashion, you retort, “Hobie you KNOW I only thrift things, please don’t start that now.”

Upon that first conversation, or even the moment his eyes caught onto your figure, he’d fallen, well…into lust, head first, dead upon impact.Hobie is attractive, interacts with other hot people, but he can’t help but be particularly fascinated with your figure—from your equally as low waisted and tight jeans, so tight they fit like a second skin on your legs, a sliver of your midriff exposed from the cut of your top giving him unlimited access to the slopes of your stomach, and the natural arch in your back begging to be gripped, or the way your bra makes your shirt look exceptionally tight around your breasts, every step in your stride causes a ripple to glide through the supple flesh, and the best for last his favorite part of you, your ass, so large it’s almost disproportionate to your body shape, but your thighs constricted by the denim makes it fathomable you have an ass that large.

But your face makes your body look like a present wrapped in luxurious foils, with an intricate bow on top.

Now it’s uncomfortable for him to wear those skinny jeans.

Hobie watches you intently as you saunter your way through other pedestrians, fixated on a single goal, he thinks youre coming up to chat them up maybe giving him the chance to get your contacts, until he follows your line of sight—oh youre looking at his joint…

“Bro! You got any to spare? I need a joint so fucking bad, I have cash so I’ll happily buy some off you.”

He’s slightly put off by your ice breaker, “Why? You a pig?”

Now you’re fucking pissed, after a long arduous day, when you want the most is to smoke a flat blunt, and this beanstalk, bastard is calling you an opp.

“Get your head out of your ass, or ill do it for you.” You bite backThe group tenses, waiting for Hobie to speak—who cooly replies,

“ leng ting ‘ot a mouth on her,”

he LAUGHS boisterously in fact—his chest heaves and he slinks into himself with just how fucking hilarious he thinks this situation must be, you want weed and you want to go home.

“Got a lot t’ spare, actually, but I ‘otta go back t’ my flat.” Hobie drawls his replies, languidly letting the words slip through his tongue, slurred from the high, lean frame against the stoop of the store their loitering about, he gazes down at you to gauge your reaction.

“I ain’t going to back to your ‘flat’, so let’s compromise. How much can I get for $120, and a few containers of food?”

Hobie quirks a single pierced eyebrow, the sterling metals on his face reflecting the light, even under the shade making it hard to even focus on his face for too long—that and how attractive he is, it breaks your own mask of intimidation (He’ll break it more once you start developing a relationship with each other).

“ ‘pends on how good the food is luv.”

Hobie’s had a few people offer food in exchange for weed, so you’ve already gotten him with your proposition, even if you rejected the insinuation that he wanted you to come with him back to his place.Other people love to use favors of other kinds which he rejects, he’s finds it completely unnecessary, but he is still kind, a community-oriented person he doesn’t mind giving people weed for free.

But he DOES enjoy getting gifts from his peers for weed; trinkets, porcelain dolls, customized instruments, accessories, and clothing that they tailor for him—forcing him into their studios to get to measurements right, and letting Hobie customizing the clothing to the way he desires, with no interjections or complaints even. All these things are decorated precisely around his place, he might not clean the mess in his apartment but he will ALWAYS make sure these things are safe, and dust-free.

“It’s pretty damn good! Alright lemme get your number, I’ll tell you where we meet.” During the conversation you contemplated the best course of action, do you go to his apartment—no. Let him drop off at your place? You’d rather eat glass then let a strange man have your address. But you want weed so meeting around the corner can’t be the worst choice.

Hobie wastes no time whipping his phone out of his back pocket, you exchange contact information, and with nothing but a curt nod, walking away from the draining social interaction, before a firm, slightly sweaty, ringed hand on your shoulder, whipping your body around, you watch a slow impish smirk grace his facial features.

“See ya’ later ‘orgeous.”

You retained a deadpanned expression, but your mind races and it isn’t from the secondhand high your getting from being around them. Weak kneed but you don’t falter in your perfectly constructed veneer, this is why you stay 10 feet away from attractive men.

The conversation is over now, at least to you, you give him a thumbs up, but Hobie persists even knowing he will be seeing you later, and he has patrol immediately afterwards.

“Want a joint for the road? ‘s on me luv”

Now this perks you up exponentially, and you invade his space like a cat yearning for its meal early in the morning.He’s reeling from the closeness—inebriated from the sweet smell of your body oil, and the crisp red rose perfume you wear, even the smell of the sweat gathering on your skin has him shaky

(I also headcanon him as a huge pervert, im talking panty thief levels. If yall vote on it will be graciously provided.)

Try his bet to focus on letting his lithe fingers play the edges of the paper like he would his guitar, meticulously stuffing the herb into the folded valley of the parchment, before joining the ends together with quick reels.

Hobie places the semi wrapped joint in front of your lips, glancing down at you with an expectant look, your brows furrow, not entirely too sure what he’s gesturing you to do.

“Mind sealin’ it f’ me? Your joint after all”

You wordlessly comply, letting your tongue tease the laminated edge of the parchment activating the adhesive, your eyes wander to his for approval an ‘Is this good enough?’ kind.

But for Hobie the vision of your tinted eyes, and the moist muscled appendage carefully coating the sealant edge has his cock twitching in his jeans.

He tightened it into a cone-like shape, before twisting the end closed, lightly shaking the tip to stuff the herb down farther, then passing it into your hands.

With that you exit, giving a coy wave in their direction and a mischievous “See ya later.”

Comments, Concerns?? Im still looking for beta readers so message me if you're interested. Pushing this out for traction since my other blog got shadow-banned.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie headcanons #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #atsv hobie #armands sanctum

102 notes · View notes

kana-daydreams · 6 months ago

Text

𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲

summary: the anger of the general is quelled by the power of a cute black-and-white bear?

𝐏𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Days off.

One of the most anticipated days of many, if not every, employed and unemployed individual’s life.

They were days most cherished by Warumono and days which held his most fondest memories.

But today?

Today is a day off the general loathes.

Today is a day off he despises. And will never in his life cherish for as long as he lives. He swears it on the existence of every panda past, present and future of this ill-fated earth.

Why? Because...

Today he was having a very bad day.

First, it started with all the liquified ice-cream in his freezer from the sudden power outage at his apartment complex. No power also meaning he was unable to stream any panda videos on the internet.

Second, to resolve his ice-cream problem, he'd made a trip to the convenience store only to find out that the strawberry ice-cream, his second favourite to the sweet potato flavour, was out-of-stock.

But the worst case of them all? A nightmare?

The zoo was closed.

And work called.

Now, as his day off reaches close to nearing its end, Warumono aimlessly trudges along a narrow stretch of road with sluggish footsteps, slumped shoulders and face set into a deep frown. All while, he unintentionally wards off any passer-by with his gloomy and menacing aura.

He manages a few more paces, slowing his steps when his eyes latch on to an item displayed behind the storefront glass window of a small shop to his left. His eyes glimmer, gaze riveting on the panda-themed tea set, before flickering to the sign beside it that reads “limited stock.”

Promptly, he’s inside the store and in front of the checkout counter voicing his request.

“I’m sorry sir, but the last one was sold to the couple behind you.”

At the sale clerk's words, a tense and unsettling silence engulfs the room, and Warumono’s body shudders violently as he feels all rationality elude him.

He feels his human disguise succumbing bit by bit to his formidable true nature, his mind narrowing in on one thought, and one thought alone. A self-made promise.

That today is the day he will single-handedly rain hell-fire upon earth.

That today he will enact his vengeance on every. living. creature— excluding pandas—for ruining his special—

“Step away from the counter!”

Warumono snaps his head around with a growl at the demand of a familiar voice, anger and annoyance burning in his yellow eyes. All instantaneously doused at a sight that causes his breath to hitch; and a sight he deems the most adorable in all the galaxy, standing a few feet ahead of him.

“I told you. One slip up and—”

“Y-You’re…half panda.” Warumono’s voice, laced with genuine surprise, interrupts.

Your face contorts into utter confusion. “Huh? What nonsense are you spouting, villain. I’m not half panda. I’m human.”

“But…you have panda ears.” He points an index finger at your head.

“Dim-wit, these aren’t real. It’s just a headband.” You remove the fluffy, panda ears headband from your head. “See.” You say before fixing it back to your head.

Warumono makes a beeline in your direction, his sudden closeness catching you by surprise. More surprised when he reaches his large hands towards your head to tug on the black ears of your band.

“They’re so soft.” He murmurs, a soft blush painting his cheeks.

“Stop doing that!” You groan in annoyance, swatting his hands away, before distancing yourself from him; and you swear you notice a sad pout on his face. Or maybe you’re just imagining it?

Warumono clears his throat, attempting to compose himself. “Uh…where did you get it?”

You quirk an eyebrow at his question. “ …Three stores down.”

You’re barely finished with your sentence when you feel a rush of wind lash against you— making you, for a second, clench your eyes.

And when it subsides, you open them to see Warumono nowhere in sight.

#𓇻 kana's misc ddrms #warumono x reader #warumono san x reader #kyuujitsu no warumono san #mr villain's day off #mr villain x reader

39 notes · View notes

greazyfloz · 2 years ago

Note

“i told u to leave” and “why are u still here” for quinn hughes? thank u sm! and i love your work btw ❤️❤️

Leave

Angst: "I Told You to Leave" & "Why Are You Still Here" w/ Quinn Hughes

This one is a bit long!!

Quinn was on his way back home quickly from a meeting with his coach, and I was already ready. We had the Annual Dice & Ice Gala to attend, so I set up his suit nicely on the bed ready for him to put on.Quinn should be here soon so I put my pea coat on as Quinn entered through the front door of our apartment. “Your suit is on the bed!” I yell out behind him as he runs down the hall to the room to get changed quickly. After trying about 4 different heels on to see which one is the comfiest but nice fashionable before deciding on just black pumps.

Quinn comes from down the hall quickly planting a kiss on my cheek, “Thanks babe, ready to go?” he says bending down to tie his shoe. I open the door and he grabs it behind me, opening it wider before making our way down to the apartments parking garage together.

When we get there Quinn opens his door and makes his way over to open mine as well. He grabs my hand to help me hop out and then hands his keys to the valet. We walk in hand and hand until we round the corner to the event’s lobby. He shrugs his hand away as we enter the room. I follow behind as Quinn makes his way to the coat check. We hand our coats before turning towards the event's doors. I reach out to grab Quinn’s hand and he shrugs my hand away again. I then just walk beside Quinn into the event.

Since we got to the event I Quinn had given me a bad taste in my mouth, so I started to notice all the little things throughout the event. When introducing me he would say “this is Y/n” and that’s it. Meanwhile the rest like of the team like Brock would say “This is my girlfriend, Bella” to introduce their girlfriends. I felt like trash stuck to the bottom of his shoe all night because I was just following him around, he wouldn’t even talk to me.

When we were sitting at a table getting ready to watch whatever they had the rookies doing this year, investors and partners would ask questions about me, and Quinn would answer before I could say anything. As the night went on Quinn only made me feel less and lesser about myself. My breaking point was when he leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Would it kill you to smile?”.

I felt a tear sting my eye. I gently pushed my chair behind me excusing myself from the table bringing my clutch bag with me. I headed to coat check to grab my coat, and ordered an uber.

When I got back to my and Quinn’s shared apartment. I kicked my shoes off at the door and I hear my phone ding. I see Quinn’s name on my phone. I turn the screen off then receive another text a couple minutes later from Quinn. I turn to the room and get ready for bed then return to the kitchen for a glass of wine. I pour some wine as the dings on my phone continues. ‘Maybe it’s time he feels stupid’ I thought to myself.

I pour myself another glass as the door swings open and slams behind immediately scaring me as the apartment shakes. Quinn turns into the kitchen and slams his fist on the island, making me jump. “What the fuck was that?!” Quinn says

“I left” I said

“No fucking shit” Quinn starts, “You left me there by myself! You fucking embarrassed me infront of all of those people!” he yells

“Oh my God Quinn. Why would I stay? You didn’t make it very comfortable for me”

“Because your my girlfrie-”

“GIRLFRIEND?! OH NOW I’m your girlfriend?!” I say throwing my hands in the air chuckling at the end. “I thought I was just ‘Y/n’, You sat their and listened to how everyone introduced their girlfriends ‘this is my girlfriend, Bella’, ‘this is my wife, Lexi”, oh then there’s ‘this is y/n’.” I snapped reaching for my glass of wine taking a large gulp.

“YOU ARE SO FULL OF YOURSELF! Did you just hear yourself? You left because I didn’t introduce you as my girlfriend?!” Quinn shouts

“No! Well Yes! That is just one of many reasons!” I defend myself. Quinn takes a seat on one of the island chairs and looks at me.

“Well continue. What made me such a terrible boyfriend that you had to leave me at one of the biggest team outings of the year?” He says

“You want me to list them off? Well one you wouldn’t even hold my hand, two, -”

“Oh shut the fuck up! All of your problems just sounds like you think I should be showing you off like your hot shit! He yells standing back up so hard the chair falls to the floor, walking towards me before getting inches to my face. “Well guess what, maybe you are as hot as you think you are” he says maliciously.

“Fuck you!” I say pushing him away and opening the bottle of wine to pour more so I can bring it to bed. As I tip the bottle to the glass I look at Quinn and say “You aren’t as great as you think either” calmly. Quinn rips the bottle of wine out of my hand and throws it at the wall. The wine bottle crashed leaving a big red mess all over the kitchen.

I look at the wall at the mess in shock, then turn to Quinn to see a soften face. Still in shock, I look at Quinn and say, “Get out” lightly. Quinn just watches me as I grab the paper towel and rush to clean the white kitchen. Frantically scrubbing the walls that stained quickly red as tears I said to myself wouldn’t fall, fell. As I was scrubbing I lost my balance landing in some of the glass, “Fuck!” I yelp. Before turning, sliding myself against the cupboards bringing my knees into my chest. Quinn then decides to grab a clothe a wet it bringing it to my hands

“You’re bleeding! Here get up, We will run it under the water.” He says. I get up and look at him with disgust.

“What the fuck?!” I start, “I told you to leave” I say quickly leaving to the room and locking the door.

A couple hours go by and I am awoken by the bedroom door knobs wiggling. “Y/n, please open the door” Quinn says. I get up and open the door to the bedroom looking at Quinn

“Why are you still here?” I say

“I want to listen. Tell me why you left. I won’t get mad, I just want to make it better” he says. I move to the side so he can come in. He goes over and sits on one side of the bed letting one leg hang off.

“Tonight just made me realize that you don’t treat me like I’m your girlfriend. Half the time when we go out I feel like a groupie or something. I saw how the other guys treat their girlfriends in public and you can even do the bare minimum of saying ‘this is my girlfriend’” I start

“We-” Quinn tries to butt in

“No Quinn, I’m not done.” I say sternly, “You didn’t say one word to me even when I would ask you questions you found a way to walk away without answering. Then you ask me if it would kill me to smile. Quinn that is the only thing you said to me all night since you shrugged me off”.

“I’m sorry. I know it is far to late but I-” Quinn starts but stands up, making his way to the door. I don’t have enough fight in me to ask where he is going so I just stay and cry until I am asleep.

I wake up to see the clock reads 4:30am. I get up and make my way down the hall to the the TV on and a sleeping Quinn on the recliner in front of it. I open the blanket he has wrapped around him and cozy in beside him on the recliner. Quinn wakes a little to open his arms to pull me in. “I’m sorry for leaving” I say sadly

“Don’t apologize” he stirs “Just don’t leave me”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction

178 notes · View notes

evelyn-onfire · 4 months ago

Text

🖤 Fallen sat in the fields of fog and stars and ice, bored of their life and bored of the same stars. That is- until they saw something unusual. A golden rabbit. Well- it was more of a boy with curly golden hair, freckles, and blue eyes the color of the sky, but there appeared to be the silhouette of a rabbit around him, like an aura. So he might as well be a golden rabbit. Either way, Fallen immediately became infatuated and simply HAD to follow him.

And they did. All the way to a grave. A grave that the golden rabbit dove into and Fallen followed without a second thought. It was as they were falling, however, did they realize how silly it was to jump into a grave with a golden rabbit, and how the hole of the grave seems to be continuing on and on seemingly for forever. It, in fact, did not continue on forever, but they fell for so long that they turned upside down and landed on their head. The only thing that kept them from breaking their neck was a bed or a net of silver snowdrops. Upon righting themself and surveying the area, Fallen realized they were surrounded by large, perfectly cut obelisks of dark stone, marked with thousands of names. The stones began to glow a hazy teal green as a mist rolled in, and a voice like a low rumble of thunder could be heard. “Child of the frost, cub of the dead, why do you come here?” it asked, and Fallen replied honestly, “I followed the golden rabbit, because I had to.” At this, the mist formed into a man, tall and broad and tired. He wore a robe or a dress of white and gray, with a long black beard and black hair tied up neatly in a bun. His face was grim and sorrowful, his blank white eyes spilling tears constantly, though he did not weep. A crown of jewels perched his head. His tusks were snapped down to broken stumps. Fallen would’ve been in awe of him if they didn’t feel like crying. “Who are you?” they asked. The figure replied, “The Mist King.”

“Why do you look so sad?”

“Because the world has forsaken me, and because you must be here to witness it.”

“Bad things happen all the time, but good things happen too!”

“Not for me. Not anymore. But maybe that can change…” The Mist King held out a knife to Fallen, a silver knife, and as they took it, it felt right at home in their hands, “You’ll need this if you follow that rabbit. Happiness lies beneath the twisted roots.” He bowed his head and Fallen curtseyed. The mists faded and a sea rose around them.

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

The sea smelled like rotten flesh, but Fallen didn’t mind. Though it was a little jarring to see huge mushrooms grow from the waters, especially when one grew right under them. It was surprisingly soft, like a nice velvet blanket. What was even more surprising was when a mushroom sprouted from the water with a rotting crocodile, at least, Fallen thought it was. He wore the outfit of a captain, a comically large hat on his head and an even comically larger hookah pipe in his hand. The odd part was, where legs were supposed to be, was a massive tail, slowly swishing back and forth. He was humming a tune through puffs of multicolored smoke, before he snapped open an amber eye and stared at Fallen strangely. “‘Scuse me, yer interruptin me hummin,” he said in a rough voice. Fallen scowled, “I haven’t said anything, I’m literally just standing here.” The pirate frowned deeply and slithered to the edge of his mushroom, getting right up in their face. “Now don’t get smart wit me, duck. I may be high as a seabird right ‘bout now, but I aint no fool. I know a thrill-seeker when I see one.”

“I don’t want whatever you’re smoking, I just want to find the golden rabbit!”

“Well yer not gonna find em’ here! How’d ya even get here, duck?”

They took a deep breath, “I took a boat made out of mist, but I ran out of tracks and now I’m stuck here. Who even are you, or are you too high to think right now?” The pirate chuckled and blew a ring of smoke, “Me name’s the Kutlass Caterpillar, fearsome pirate of the dead seas.”

“Caterpillar? You look more like a crocodile.”

“I said I was a croc, duck.”

“But you just said you were a caterpillar.”

“Naw I didn’, why would I say that? Ya need your ears checked.”

Fallen scoffed, “You’re impossible.” The Kutlass shrugged and leaned back, “Now your just makin stuff up. Tell ya what, I’ll point ya in tha direction of that rabbit, but ya gotta go through tha woods and talk to tha Cheshire Cat.” They gripped their knife tightly.

“I fear no woods or cats, and nothing will keep me from finding my happiness.”

This seemed to satisfy the Kutlass Croc, so he huffed some smoke and puffed out an arrow leading to the big, twisted forest.

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

But navigating a forest that changed tree types every 3.4 minutes was rather disorienting. After several 3.4 minutes of wandering through sycamores, pines, oaks, and trees made of amber and resin, Fallen found themself right back where they started, at the singular dead tree in the entire forest. However, this time, they found that they were not alone. A man sat lounged back in the dead branches, though it was hard to tell where man ended and tree began, as he looked like no man at all, but a moth. And his eyes were the peculiar color of mirrors, and a wide smile was plastered on his face. “Excuse me, sir,” Fallen began, catching the man’s attention, “are you the Cheshire Cat?” The man gave them a strange look, gesturing to all of him, “Do I look like a cat to you?”

“Uh, no. But are you?”

He smiled as if he’s stopped, sitting up right, “I’m not a cat, I’m a tree. My name is the Cheshire Moth. People only find me if they’re lost.”

Fallen crossed their arms and huffed, “I’m not lost, I’m just dizzy. It’s not exactly easy to navigate this maze with only a knife to guide you.” The Cheshire Moth found this curious, and made a humming noise as he removed his head to more closely inspect them. He snapped his head back on and pondered them a question, “And what knife do you speak of? I see no knife on you?” Fallen realized what he was saying was true and searched their pocket frantically. Alas, there was in fact no knife. They nearly almost broke into tears. “My knife. My precious knife, it’s gone! It was a gift from the Mist King, and the key to finding happiness…” The Cheshire Moth burst into laughter, “The Mist King?? No wonder your knife is gone! The Queen would never allow such a thing in her domain.” For some reason, the mention of a queen filled Fallen with so much dread.

“A queen? What queen?”

“The Crooked Queen, of course. Or the Queen of Roots if you prefer, she’s certainly not picky when it comes to names. If you want your happiness, you’ll have to go to her.”

They frowned and shivered, feeling their skin crawl. They really really didn’t want to meet her, but if she was really the only way to find the golden rabbit…. “Fine. Where can I find her?” The Cheshire Moth clapped his hands together happily, his joints creaking and snapping with the sudden movement, “You’ll have to go through the Mad Garden! Once you’re there, you’ll find the way no problem.” Fallen was about to ask about this when they suddenly heard a delightful music, and immediately knew where to go. They waved goodbye to the Cheshire Moth and hurried into a thicket of rose bushes.

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

The music pulled them into a lovely garden, the Mad Garden, where in the center of rose bushes and moon-lilies and golden orchids was a long dinner table, filled with treats and best of all, tea. The music came from the cheeriest creature, a scarecrow, with a tan burlap sack head, a sunset colored wide-brimmed hat, and the finest high-collard vermilion suit jacket Fallen had ever seen. In fact, it seemed as though with each strum of this scarecrow’s banjo, a different ray of color would bounce across the garden. Sitting at the head of the table was a man with blond hair, not unlike the golden rabbit’s, but a bit paler. He was dressed in ivory and gold, and perched on his head was a red tophat adorned with rose petals, which seemed to be intertwining down into his hair. Across from the scarecrow was a third person, a lady, though calling her a person was a bit misleading, as she seemed to be made entirely of moonlight and flowers, with hair made of white moon-lily petals, and a shadow over where a face should be. The two seemed to be listening intently and happily to the scarecrow’s music, and hardly noticed Fallen’s entrance until a beam of color hit them. The scarecrow stopped and gasped happily, “Well now, what did I tell you two! A guest, just as I predicted!” He motioned for Fallen to sit next to him, which they did, “I’m the Merry Scarecrow, and this is my best gent, the Hatter Vampire, and his best gal, the Lady of Flowers.” Fallen dipped their hat which dissolved from their hands and the Hatter dipped his hat back. “Charmed, young one,” replied the Lady, scooting a cup of snowdrops towards them. They sipped from it, but it tasted like silver, so they drank it all. “My friend the cat said you could tell me where the Crooked Castle is,” they began, “Is that true?” The three fell silent, so silent you could hear a banjo strum, though none did. The Hatter folded his hands together and rested his chin on his hands, quiet and thinking, so Merry spoke instead, “We don’t go near that castle, not after the Jabberwocky came pokin his head through.” The Hatter shot Merry a look and put a shushing finger to his fangs. Fallen tilted their head, “What’s the Jabberwocky?”

“A beast made of scales and feathers,” the Lady said quietly, “A monster that attacks if you say it's true name, so we call it the Jabberwocky. It sleeps outside the Crooked Castle.” The Hatter nodded in agreement and sipped some crimson blood, “It’s troublesome, really, especially since it became encased in ice.” that didn’t make sense to them. Wouldn’t a creature being trapped in ice be a good thing? But Merry shook his head, “You don’t understand, Fallen. Nothing can hold it back, not unless someone gets the key from the golden rabbit.” Fallen choked on their tea and set the cup down, “I’m looking for the golden rabbit! Maybe I can help trap the Jabberwocky!” The Hatter looked doubtful. The Lady looked sorrowful. Merry looked hopeful, “I bet you can! Allow me to assist.” And he stood and took Fallen’s hand.

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

Fallen and the Merry Scarecrow crept along the path to the Crooked Castle, the trees and roses turning to ice as they went along. Did Fallen do this? They’d never seen so much ice before. Merry winked at them knowingly, which didn’t make them feel any better about the situation. When the two came across the Jabberwocky, Merry grew quiet and stiff, as if he knew what was coming. Fallen certainly didn’t, until they saw it. The Jabberwocky, a massive dragon-crow. Its entire metal caged ribs were exposed, but the rest of its torso was covered in ice. It seemed to be sleeping, but lucky for them, a friend appeared. “Such a strange circumstance,” said the Cheshire Moth, “for a cub and a scarecrow to find themselves here. Don’t you know the guard of the castel lurks here too? You can find them if you hear the static.” Merry flinched at this, but Fallen stood their ground, “No spirit will harm us here because we’re not looking for one!”

“Right you are, you’re looking for this,” replied the Cheshire Moth, pulling out their knife. Fallen gasped, “How did you find that?!” He smiled again and changed its angle. It wasn’t the knife, but a key, which was rather disappointing. “I took it from the golden rabbit. You’ll need it for this puzzle,” he said and flipped the key to Fallen. They caught it and scowled, “Please tell me you didn’t hurt my happiness for it.” The Cheshire Moth shrugged and shook his head, “It wasn’t me, but the queen. I can help you if you want-” but Fallen had already moved on. Merry wasn’t there anymore, and neither was the Cheshire Moth. It was just them and the Jabberwocky. A screech echoed from the trees, like static, a name that Fallen didn’t hear. The Jabberwocky’s name. It stirred and lifted its massive head, clicking its disgusting beak. It let out a caw, which hurt Fallen greatly, and they dropped the key as they fell to their knees.

“Need some help, duck?”

They were delighted to find the Kutlass Croc and the Hatter standing next to them. Fallen nodded and the Kutlass Croc spun the key around his finger, his massive tail curling around them in momentary comfort. The Hatter Vampire gave them a flower, “Go. We’ll take care of this, and of Merry.” They knew what to do, and so did Fallen. So they ran.

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

Fallen ran so fast, tears were spilling down their cheeks. Never before had they felt so dreadful. Their knife was gone, Merry was in trouble, and they had to find the golden rabbit all by themself. They ran until they tripped and fell right in the hall of the Crooked Castle. It was dark, gloomy, and humid. Amber sap littered the ground and walls. It reminded Dante of summer. They righted themself and shook their head.

“It’s you! You found me!!”

They looked around in surprise until they saw him. Their happiness. The golden rabbit boy was even more stunning up close. A great warmth of sunlight shone around him. “I knew you’d find me, you always do,” he said gently. Fallen’s heart raced as they took his hands. He stepped closer to them. Fallen closed their eyes. But it all felt too easy. It all felt wrong. They shook their head and stepped back.

“Dante? What’s wrong?”

“No…you’re not him. You’re not Cassius. Where is my knife?”

The golden rabbit frowned, grief in his eyes. He placed a hand on their chest and tugged. The knife slid from their chest. It was a horrible pain. Fallen pulled and pulled until the entire blade was free. Dark blood pooled around them. Fallen smiled. She smiled back. “You’ve come to tha right place, child. You will find yer happiness.” Roots crept up and along Fallen’s legs, twisting and twining their way up their torso and slowly spiraling around their neck. Dante could still hear the sounds of him struggling. They breathed out slowly and closed their eyes. “That’s it, let it happen…you’ll feel so free…”

Free? Is that true? The Crooked Queen sounded so sure, which means…

They started struggling, pulling hard at the roots. “No! No this isn’t freedom! This isn’t happiness!!” they began to sob, “Let me go!! Let him go!! I wanna go home! Please-” They gasped and choked on blood. Who was the man standing in front of them? Why did they hear shouting? ‘Witch! Witch! Burn them!! Devil’s child!!’ But Dante didn’t do anything. Why did he look so angry? “Dad, please….”

The roots suddenly retracted, dropping Fallen to the floor. They inhaled deeply, one breath after another. Mist had rolled in, and the Crooked Queen was furious. “Do not fret, my cub of the dead,” said the Mist King, holding his great shovel in eternal judgment. The Cheshire Moth slinked in too, a genuine grin on his face, “You are not alone.” Fallen blinked tears from their eyes as they saw everyone. The Merry Scarecrow, the Kutlass Croc. The Vampire Hatter and the Lady of Flowers were there too, just a bit further back. Their friends. Their family. The Crooked Queen spat out bloodied sap and cackled, “As if any of you are truly free. Even you, Thrall. You’re s’pposed to be MINE!!” The Cheshire Moth shook his head, his neck no longer twisted, “I’m sick of you, wretched queen. It’s time to let the golden rabbit go.” She hissed out something Fallen couldn’t understand and charged at him, claws outstretched. Fallen rushed forward, knife drawn. They felt in control for once in their entire life. There was a clashing. A noise like a scream. Withering back roots. And that beautiful, golden light. He pressed his forehead against Fallen’s.

“It’s time for you to actually save me, Magpie,” Cassius said, “Because now you see that you’re not alone.”

And Fallen woke up.

#fallen asks #goon at noon asks #this took me 7 pages to write #and its almost 3000 words long #this is basically a fic #tw trauma #tw some violence and blood #yes this is an alice in wonderland fever dream #legends of avantris #evelyns little art corner is on fire

11 notes · View notes

sophiamcdougall · 1 year ago

Text

So to sum up

This was yesterday: * Wake up with a migraine * Take the last of my "emergency supply" of ADHD meds * Contact Boots to say 'hey, remember how you decided not to bother to reorder my medication, didn't tell me and left me to run out? Well, you said you'd text me when it came in and you haven't, what's up?" * Boots doesn't have my meds * Boots is fucking rude about it too * Already upset. HAHA I know nothing. * Call another pharmacy. Discover that the fucking global shortage of ADHD meds has struck again * Call all the other pharmacies. * Nothing. *Call GP *GP says to call the psychiatric clinic * Tell GP: "They WILL say there is nothing they can do and to call you back." *GP says to call the psychiatric clinic *[Still migraine] *Time to start work! I have a document to edit this afternoon! * Call psychiatric clinic. Psychiatric clinic does not answer. Says to call in office hours. It is office hours *Call psychiatric clinic several more times *[I hate making phonecalls! They make me stressed and uncomfortable!] *Psychiatric clinic answers. Psychiatric clinic says there is nothing they can do and to call the GP back. *Call GP back. *GP says "Oh, you're completely out of meds"?? as if this was a surprise. *GP says they will try to get me an urgent referral to the psychiatrist to get me prescribed something else. * I say I don't! particularly! want! to do that! I just want my normal, boring medication and even if the 40 and 60mg pills are out, might it not be available in another dosage somewhere? *GP, who keeps interrupting me literally every two seconds, to the extent that I think less "man" and more "honestly needs to read the description for the condition we're talking about" has apparently not thought of that. Will call me back *Edit document *[Still migraine] *GP somehow manages to interrupt me several more times to tell me they're trying to do Things which is nice but not! helpful! when you are trying to edit a document WITH A MIGRAINE! *GP finally says that while there is no way on God's earth to get me 120 mgs of my medication, I CAN get 100mg. Which you'd think we could maybe have got to SEVERAL HOURS AGO but OK. GP spends a long time arguing with me that this is a good idea even though I am not arguing back and agree with him. *Finish editing document. Time to go to GP, to get new prescription for 100 mg! Troubles nearly at end! *Migraine maybe fading? * SLAM foot into large box where keep craft supplies. * Wait for pain to subside. * It doesn't. * Think toes are broken. Can't walk. *Have to walk. GP about to close. GP not on bus route. *Hobble, gasping and wincing half a mile to GP. Hobble, gasping and wincing (and occasionally singing Italian pop music under my breath to take mind off pain because it's That Bad and we do what we got to do at this point) further half mile to Pharmacy. *Walking mile not good for foot definitely at all. * Pharmacists watch me limp into their shop in obvious dismay. "Hi!" I say brightly "This is unrelated to why I'm here!" * Pharmacy interested in toes. Says maybe toes aren't broken? Aren't black. *I agree maybe I'm making a silly fuss and only later think that it had been less than an hour at this point and despite what fanfic will tell you, injuries take longer than that to GO black.¹ *Get my 100mgs of meds. *Limp to bus stop, * Get home. Eat a consolatory ice lolly. *Hobble to bathroom to wash hands *Inexplicably, just to add baffling insult to ludicrous injury, a pile of towels falls on my head.

[¹Today still not black, but still cannot walk and even the weight of bedclothes unbearable -- they're broken as fuck.]

#cursed cursed cursed #what did i do to deserve this oh Zeus?

23 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 4 - Sutures

The next morning, Katrina woke up weirdly refreshed - All sunshine and daisies, she could say - Which was quite a peculiarity, considering how exhausted she felt all the time. Maybe this fresh air from the old eras is a good remedy to get healthier, considering how polluted and foul the air was in her present time, and how great an impact this terrible thing has on their world.

Advantages and disadvantages can be found in any era, you just need to look around properly and analyze the situation. After all, the infinite spectrum of Grey can only be done by mixing together different percentages of White and Black. There is nothing 100% good, not 100% bad, just like there is no real altruism or real villainy.

Or perhaps it's just her overthinking and pretending to be some Nietzsche or Freud philosopher in her own mind.

The red haired girl messily braided her hair and put it in a disheveled bun, not bothering to properly brush her long hair as she knew she'd be busy all they and all night, so why bother appearing decent when she'll look like she woke up from the dead 3 years later. Instead of garbing one of those beautiful, rich kimonos, she put on a pair of comfortable blue jeans, chose some thin, light sneakers and a large band Tshirt, putting a haori over her shoulder, in case she got cold. After all, she didn't really want to wear her leather jacket or trench coat in a make-shift hospital where she'd get splurted with blood and hopefully not other bodily fluids.

Grinning mischievously at her small bag, where she found the absent-mindedly thrown instruments she used at the clinic - Courtesy of a habit she took from her University days when she'd have 2 spares of anything in her bag ( except for notebooks, papers, crayons, pens, textbooks and literally anything else she'd actually need ) - And swinging the bag casually over her shoulder, she got one of the maids to guide her to the rooms where the patients were being treated.

She wasn't surprised seeing all those injuries, the blood pooling all over them, or the groans and wails of agony and despair - She was, however, surprised to see Masamune helping out in taking care of the victims.

"Yo, cyclops, how's it going?" Kat smirked at him throwing off the haori and bag in a corner, putting on the latex gloves and taking out the tools, looking around at the helpers. "I need some fire to sterilize my tools. I already have a needle, but I need a lot of threat... Some sake, I guess. Lots of water basins and towels, some marigold ointment... Can we get ice cubes? No, wait, I don't think so, it's too early in the times... Then, I will need constant supply of river-cold water. We'll need sulphur fumigation after this... No matter, I digress. What disinfectant was used so early... Hmm... Alcohol... Alcohol... Ah, yes, vinegar, perfect for open wounds! Yes, you guys, please bring me what I just said, it would help a lot." she instructed the healers who she thought were lackeys. They looked at her skeptically as they started whispering between themselves instead of moving.

"Didn't you hear the Princess? Do as she says! She clearly knows what she's talking!" Masamune's authoritarian voice seemed to make the physicians tremble and run out of the room to do as commanded.

"Uh... Thanks for that. I know I don't have the most authority over people, especially since I've just come here and I didn't earn anyone's respect. To tell you the truth, I only ever treated animals, and even then, we had... Technology and tons of medicaments and modern treatments. Relying on herbs and plants is a huge downgrade and I don't know entirely how potent or fast their effects are. On that note, I will do everything in my power to keep these guys alive. We have a saying in medicine - An oath, you could call it - Primum non nocere. It's Latin, and it means - First of all, do no harm. Basically, as long as you do more good than bad, it's all cool, especially in these times." she crouched down next to the warlord, taking off the blanket covering the man he was attending to, and taking off the armor and top nonchalantly, she saw a nasty gash from one to the other of his abdomen.

"Nobunaga already told us all that story about you being from the future and stuff. By the way you're talking, I can't even imagine doubting you. These tools... They look weird. How do you use them?" the man asked, very curious and intrigued by her words, and in the meantime, the healers came by and brought everything to the girl.

"Well... Watch as I explain everything I'm doing. Oh, and... Don't freak out or something, okay? I heard at some point that these... Western medical practices haven't been accepted in Asia until very, very late... And by that, I mean like, 19th century or something. Relying on praying and plants alone won't solve your problems." she explained as she took a towel and wet it, carefully wiping away all the blood from the gash, and from around, revealing the nasty open flesh wound. "Keep this thread bolt please." Kat handed him the bolt as she took the thread and got it through the needle's ear, and dangled the metal above the small fire the physicians created. "By doing this, I'm sterilizing the metal... It's not the best, but it's as much as I can do. By this, I'm reducing the possibility of bacteria, microorganisms and may other bad, harmful things that we can't see with the normal human eye that can get inside the wound and make it to fester."

"Why would the... Bacteria thingy get inside the wound if nothing except our hands touches it?" he asked, analyzing every move the girl did.

"Bacteria is everywhere. Literally everywhere. It's like dirt. It gets inside, you're screwed. It can get inside even by blowing air on it. I know, difficult to believe such abstract things that you can't see, but that's the truth. First, we disinfect the wound with vinegar, padding the wound with a handkerchief. Now we bring the flesh together... And we do sutures. Stitches. In the shape of the Latin-alphabet X-shaped letter. First with the muscle part inside, and then with the skin outside." she used the forceps to move around the needle with such astonishing dexterity and accuracy that

Masamune's single eyes only gazed, widened and enchanted by the movements, yet the many minuscule knots and the snipping of scissors made it very confusing for him. He couldn't quite grasp why, as she made so many knots, one on top of the other, she'd do different moves, some forwards, some backwards, and... Something?

"He looks like he's sewn like a blanket." the one-eyed dragon stared, stunned, at the sutured wound. His hand went to touch it, but it was slapped away by the girl.

"Bacteria! Don't touch it with your filthy hands! That's exactly how the wound gets festered!" Masamune's face was bewildered with disbelief, so much that the girl had to look away and laugh lightly. "Okay, sorry, your face was adorable. Anyway, please don't touch wounds, I don't want them to get infected. Now that we're done, I will put some marigold ointment gently over the sewn up wound... Et voila, that's it. It's the best I can do for now. We don't really have antibiotics, I can't do vaccines and stuff... I will forever miss Amoxicillin and Ceftriaxone... But whatever. I will have the other physicians tend to the physiological aspect of it... Give him some medicine soup or something. Until then... We have many more others to take care of, so, if you want, you can help me out... Or maybe you can help bandage them? Whatever you want, it will help either way." smiling at the blue-garbed man, Kat got crawled to the next man, doing the same procedure over several open wounds and cuts around.

"You've got it, lass, leave it to me. I've taken care of my injured men before, I can handle this!" almost as if he got a huge boost of confidence seeing the girl so sure of herself, explaining the procedure and the reasoning behind it, it made him feel reassured that somehow, despite these life-threatening injuries, they will all live.

Despite their best efforts combined, more and more hours passed, yet neither of them seemed to feel any kind of fatigue - Or at least, they didn't let it be seen. One of them was used to such heavy work load in the clinic, while the other was used to fighting day and night tirelessly, so at least for that, the adrenaline rush keeping them focused and steady was doing its job, surging rapidly through their veins with an electrifying speed.

Katrina, despite not being one to speak too much, got used from her clinic time to giving orders to her subordinates to help her or delegate some of the minor work, and thankfully, after Masamune's order, they all followed her instructions to a T. Lovely success, she might say, considering that there was place for a sole woman in a world dominated by narcissistic, egotistical men. And yet, she somehow seemed to gain the... Maybe not outright trust, but at least the respect of the milder warlords, like Masamune and Mitsunari. People like Ieyasu and Hideyoshi were still very suspicious of her, despite everything, and yet, she knew that, with time, she will get through them too. After all, she had no ill-will or bad intentions towards them, and above all, she just wanted to have fun and maybe get through this alive.

Sengoku era was pretty fun, despite all the hardships and non-stop threats upon their lives, but somehow, being surrounded by people and being able to turn to them to have a simple talk or a drink, made her feel less alone than usual. It wasn't like she was an extrovert or overly sociable, but at the same time, her heart suffered greatly whenever she realised how truly alone she was, even surrounded by people, whenever she'd see all the people she was 'friends' with talk to her only out of necessity, or whenever nobody else was available or a hang out. Everyone was either married, had kids, or was at least in a steady relationships, and all the old, lovely friendships quickly vanished, and she was forgotten for the most part.

After all, she was never anyone's first option, and that thought alone truly hurt her.

"Masamune, you idiot, have you been here all day?" a new, sudden voice disrupted the organized chaos that the brownian motion that became their pattern in the room, tending to all the injured people.

"Ieyasu? What are you doing here?" Masamune's lower voice asked, surprised to see the blond warlord there, holding a basket.

"Have you forgotten to eat again? Stupid." the future Tokugawa shogun light-heartedly insulted his friend with a stoic look on his face as he thrusted the food basket in his arms. "Share."

"Thank you for your consideration, Ieyasu." despite saying that, almost robotically, Kat, didn't look up from the procedure she was doing.

"...Masamune? Why are these men patched up like potato sacks?" the man frowned - But Kat's frown was worse, as she suddenly got up, ignoring the dizziness from dehydration and lack of proper nutrition for the day.

"Excuse you? Patched up like potato sacks? I'll have you known my sutures are the peak of beauty! If you insult my magnum opus, I swear I'm going to sew up your mouth and eyes permanently!" she got in his face, her arms crossed, showing how offended she was.

"...Huh?" Ieyasu's eyes grew wide as he made a dumbfound expression, his mouth just slightly agape from the shock of her outburst and the words she used. On the other hand, Masamune's loud, mirthful loud resounded through the room.

"Don't worry, Ieyasu, the lass did a splendid job on these men! She told me all about the importance of disinfectant and these extra small things called bacteria! Ain't that a funny word? Anyway, this sewing thing is said to be a Western practice and keeping the flesh together helps it heal faster!" Masamune went to pat - With a bit too much strength - Ieyasu's shoulder, making him flinch a bit from annoyance.

After muttering some more insults to the cyclops, the blond crouched to one of the man, inspecting his wound. "Interesting..." he hummed, but as soon as he extended his hand to examine and admire the intricate craftmanship that seemed almost like a seamstress's sewing, or an embroidered handkerchief, his wrist was roughly grasped and pulled away.

"Don't touch it." the two shared a look, and begrudgingly, the man took away his hand, making the girl release his hand gingerly. "Sorry about that. It's just... Wounds shouldn't be carelessly touched. You create the risk of infecting the wound and festering from inside, which would really suck." she sighed, speaking in a lower voice.

"I'm half-inclined to say you're speaking non-sense, but at the same time, I'm interested in your knowledge. Masamune, that food is all yours. I want to have a conversation with this one." the blond got on his feet, motioning for the red haired girl to follow him.

"But... The patients... They need constant supervising... And if they spaz out, they risk breaking their stitched and bleeding again." Kat got up, looking worriedly between the sleeping patients and the expecting warlord who looked impatiently at her.

"Don't worry, lass, I've got this covered! Go eat something and rest, you deserve a break." the man's wild grin encouraged her to leave - Albeit still skeptical - Yet a bit more reassured.

The whole way to his home was quiet, except for the crickets and toads singing in tune a beautiful symphony of the night. Thankfully, the way to his place was pretty short. There, as the weather was mighty fine, Ieyasu had his servants put the table and pillows on the porch, lighting up the lanterns so they could see, but the very late dinner was still incredibly awkward and silent, sans the sound of chewing and chopsticks moving. That is until finally, after the leftover food was taken off the table, and the man finally spoke, his green eyes peering into her own green eyes.

"Tell me what you did with the warriors." his harsh voice had an edge to it that was both intrigued yet had an invisible force holding him back from appearing interested in any way.

"And by that, do you want me to medically explain what and why I did what I did?" she raised an eyebrow, questioning for a proper explanation. The man simply said an affirmative answer as a reply, but that alone - Someone actually being interested in her knowledge and skills - It truly made her happy enough to smile.

"Do you believe my time-traveling story?" she asked in a gentle voice.

"Is that relevant?" the man looked away with a roll of his eyes.

"Yes, it very much is." she nodded solemnly.

"Your answer tonight will give me a definitive answer." the girl couldn't help but grin and let out an amused exhale.

"Very well. I asked you because in my time, we don't really use plant-medicine anymore. We use medicaments that are made from various chemical compounds put together into pills, emulsions, ointments, syrups and other liquids for vaccines... That's why, I had a hard time thinking about the proper plants and how to create a proper ointment or treatment based on their wounds. I only know that honey, garlic, ginseng and maybe moldy bread were good to kill bacteria and such, but I'm not sure, and I don't want to risk blindly." she explained briefly the hesitation behind the scarce using of the plants. Except marigold ointment. Marigold ointment is Grandma's famous, legendary treatment. Forever.

"And what is this 'bacteria' that Masamune glamorized so much?" he asked, humming in understanding.

"Bacteria are microscopic living things - It means they are so small you can't see them without a microscope, which is like... A binocular, but you don't look into the distance, but on a strip with a sample... But I digress. Basically, they are quite literally everywhere, and they can cause diseases. That's why they must not make their way into wounds - They can cause festering and necrosis... Basically, the cells and tissues that form the human body... The place afflicted dies, and it turns black because blood doesn't stream through there, so it gets no more oxygen and nutriments, and thus, you have a dead part in your alive body, and this dead body is like the plague - It spreads - Hence why you need to cut it off. However, you can't cut off the torso, can you? If you have necrosis affecting your fingers or limbs, you can successfully amputate them - You cut them off - But... I'm not sure you people would agree to having a limb less, considering you won't be able to fight anymore, but the theory behind still stands. Back then, I didn't necessarily stop you from touching it because it's forbidden, but because you had dirty hands. You have to at least wash your hands with water and soap and then disinfect them with alcohol, like vinegar or... Sake maybe. Did... Any of this make sense?" she asked sheepishly, realising the pondering look he had on his face. Ieyasu nodded his head and grunted an affirmative answer. "We can't quite afford much hygiene measures when at war, but I suppose there are some things we can take care of anyway. I saw a fire inside the room. Was that to kill this... Bacteria?" he pointed out, hesitating as he spoke out loud that foreign word again.

"Yes! Sort of. It's not the most effective method, but it does the trick. Since I used a needle and a thread to sew up the wounds together, you keep the metal in the fire until it colours red, and that kills the bacteria, so you can use the needle on the wound. Thing is, after you clean the wound and you sew it up, people usually do an antibiotic vaccine to prevent getting infections inside." she explained, not realising that she wasn't properly explaining all words, and that people from the past had no idea what she was talking about, and they couldn't possibly corelate so easily foreign words with their roots and meanings.

"Are you going to let me guess what "Antibiotic" and "Vaccine" mean?" the man huffed, kinda frustrated because there was such much to learn, yet things seemed more complicated, as he never heard of these words before, yet this technology and knowledge she held... Ieyasu was craving them.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! Well, 'Antibiotic' is something that kills bacteria. Basically, it's 2 words coming from Greek, and they were put together. 'Anti' means 'Against' and 'Bios' is 'Living'. I find it easier to understand words and medical terminology once I understand the roots of the word and what it means. And a vaccine is... Uhm... A tube with a small, hallow needle. Inside the tube you have a liquid with medicine and you stick the needle... Here, in your vein, and this liquid gets in the bloodstream. The blood uhm... Irrigates the whole body with Oxygen and nutriments and... Since the blood goes everywhere, the medicine goes where it needs to go. I'm pretty sure vaccines weren't allowed in Asia as a proper practice until...About 200 years from now on or something. They were seen as Western barbarian practices and that went against the beliefs of Confucius, Buddha and the ethics and stuff. In my time, vaccines are extremely important and everyone, animals alike, get vaccinated, so they can prevent getting some diseases, especially infectious ones." Kat smiled at the man who could only grunt in understanding again, and... Even agreement, maybe?

"Fear of the unknown makes people afraid of the consequences and don't want to even try to understand, even if the explanation is in front of their very eyes. Most of the time, even the nobles or the educated ones believe in Divine Retribution and the Devil's work when it comes to... "Unorthodox" practices, as a Christian missionary put it. Development, education and technology are the base of a plentiful and rich future, but with how many people still believe in onryos and oni, you can't expect much progress." despite the man being genuine and contemplating, Kat chuckled, very amused.

"Some people called me a Kitsune in my time. Tradition means a lot for this country, and while sure, in the future people don't believe in kami and oni anymore, they still hold the history and culture very close to their heart. On another note... I'm pretty sure I heard Hideyoshi curse Mitsuhide at some point and called him a Kitsune as well." biting her lip in amusement, she twirled around a strand of her hair, resting her jaw on her palm.

"How stupid... But I suppose it's not that far away from the truth anyway." the man rolled his eyes again, scoffing at the ridiculousness of the statement, but he was unable to agree or disagree with it.

Before he could shoo the girl away, as it was getting dreadfully late, and the tiredness was evidently painted on her face, a quiet, rhythmical trotting sound coming from inside the house, getting out... A small deer, of all things, was revealed. It looked up at the two people sitting on opposite sides of the small, round table. It looked at its owner, and then at the stranger.

"Hello, sweety." the red haired girl slowly extended her hand towards the baby deer, as she carefully sniffed it, and with an unexpected braveness, it jumped in her lap, licking her face, shocking the physician girl. "Wh-Whoa...! I have been blessed!" almost as if scared to touch it, as fawns are fragile and soft and gentle and adorable as hell, her hands carefully went to hug and pet the small critter, sticking her tongue half out as if she was mleming, and the fawn imitated her.

"You're acting like a stupid kid." Ieyasu scoffed, yet his annoyance was a mask for his amusement. "Her name is Wasabi."

"Wasabi...! You're the cutest little baby in the whole entire world! I want to hug you and never let you out of my arms. I love youuuu~!" suddenly, the calm, stoic and collected woman became an overly-affectionate cuddle bug that was spoiling that fawn. In fact, Ieyasu was shocked at such a drastic change in her behaviour, and the sweet voice she was talking in with his pet, but not only that, he also hasn't seen women - Mothers, in particular - Fawn over and spoil a human baby so much as this woman in front of him was practically melting in complete bliss and glee. She truly was peculiar in all the weird sorts of ways. He didn't have the heart to send her home, instead, he just watched the peculiar scene in front of him for as long as it lasted. That is, until he noticed the girl trying to mask out a yawn, only for Wasabi to stick her tongue inside her mouth as she tried to lick up her face. They both retracted their heads backwards, staring at each other in shock with wide, confused eyes. They almost looked as if they were both two baby fawns, so innocent, so pure, and very ignorant of the horrors and dangers of the world around them.

He hated this girl... He hated her so much, but at the same time, he didn't. He hated weakness, and she was nothing more than a frail little snow-drop, like every other woman he's encountered. On the other hand, Wasabi is just as fragile and in need of protection, and he felt the soft and gentle feeling of love and protectiveness. He wouldn't let anyone even look weirdly at the baby fawn, let alone harm her. Maybe that's why he hated Katrina so much. Not that she was suspicious - She really wasn't. Despite all the stories about kunoichi and how they disguise themselves as maids and maidens that lure men in bed and then kill them, stealing all the important intel and running away to their employers, Katrina was obviously not like that. He prided himself with being a pretty good judge of character... And what the hell would a woman from the future, that simply wants to go back home, want with them, except for protection until she can somehow find a way to go to her rightful time? She even showed them some revolutionary medical practices and have them important intel, so there was no reason to be as suspicious of her as when she first arrived.

Ieyasu wasn't going to go outright and protect her, that would be too much of a bother, and even thought Nobunaga claims she's some kind of lucky charm for him - That's all she is - HIS responsibility, so why should he bother with Nobunaga's fleeting obsessions? On the other hand, he wasn't going to outright let her die that easily - If only for that intriguing and controversial knowledge she has in that head of hers.

Stupid red head.

He could only watch from his seat as she said good night to him and, with one last kiss on Wasabi's wet nose, left to sleep, since she couldn't stay awake anymore from the exhaustion. She thanked him for the meal and the lovely conversation even, even though she was the one who spoke most of the time. What a peculiar woman, as if she has nobody to talk to. Then again, with the way she flinches away from her so-called paramour, and how she tries to stray away from him and how she scolds and glares at him at all time... And how violent he is with her... Maybe she was just fed up with him altogether and with him being the only person she knows, she was getting lonely.

Never mind, why the hell would he care anyway? Wasabi was in his lap, licking his face, and it was a decent night. It was time for him to get some sleep.

Morning came by faster than expected, and the birds chirped with the rising of the sun, yet their beautiful song wasn't enough to wake the girl up. Her sleep were sweet and well-deserved, and she didn't wake up until pretty late into the day, and even then, she was pretty sluggish. It was finally a normal day! And it was pretty much a free day as well! Technically speaking, she was free to do whatever she wanted, as long as she remained in Azuchi, so she took advantage of it, mixing her time with having fun, exploring and working, all in a perfect imbalance - As usual.

Getting ready, the first thing she did was check up on the patients and make sure they were in good condition, and after she was satisfied with what she was seeing, she went to have a look at the traveling market and maybe even treat herself to some tea and dango.

As she was absent-mindedly admiring the hustle and bustle of the place, and noticing that nobody was really bothering or even looking at her, thankfully, she smiled softly, feeling content and at ease. That all disappeared as soon as a tap on her shoulder woke her up from her trance and her name was called - Looking at the man calling her, she realised the ninja boy who she got to know recently was there, gesturing for her to go somewhere with fewer people and have a chat.

"I'm sorry I left you alone for so long. How is life at Azuchi castle?" he asked as they both sat down on a bench under an umbrella, outside a tea house.

"Oh, it's quite alright. I got to show off my medical skills by sewing up some people... And I played with Ieyasu's pet, which was adorable, considering my profession is a Veterinary doctor. And you? Your profession here is much more dangerous than mine, are you alright?" she asked the man, looking up at the beautiful azure sky.

"I can't complain. I miss home, but at the same time, if I treat this as a history project, then I'm rather excited, despite all death-threatening things I have to do." he smiled as well, ordering tea for the two of them.

Then, another man, dressed in a burgundy kimono, stepped in front of them, his hands on his hips like an upset mother. "There you were, Sasuke! Who is this?" he analyzed the fire-kissed woman from head to toe.

"Hasashi Katrina. My friends call me Kat, so if you don't mind... I'm Sasuke's friend. It's lovely meeting another of his friend!" Kat got up from the bench and bowed lightly at the man before extending her hand for him to shake - But he merely looked weirdly at her hand, then at Sasuke.

"Shake her hand. It's a way of greeting new people and making new friendships." Sasuke encouraged the man, and with a bit of skepticism, he engaged in this foreign act.

"Sanada Yukimura." he muttered, frowning a bit. "I've never heard of this kind of greeting before. Your name, also, is rather unusual... Your hair as well."

"Well, I am a pretty unusual woman, you could say." she shrugged, carefree, signaling for him to also sit down. "May I call you Yuki? It's only fair to use a nickname as well, don't you think?" despite the friendly tone in her voice, the teasing was pretty obvious, and the man's cheeks reddened, and he could only look away, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "Yuki~? Are you okay? You look feverish." Kat's eyes narrowed slightly from amusement, smiling like a mischievous fox as she stepped in front of him, putting the back of her hand to his forehead, making him even more flustered, hurrying away from her.

"I-I'm fine, jeez!" he stuttered, unable to look at the girl, as she and Sasuke chuckled at his reactions.

"Ah, look, Kenshin, a Kitsune!" another voice, unfamiliar, chuckled, and as the trio snapped their heads towards the new voice, they saw two men, one extroverted, and one introverted. Perfect friend duo.

"Don't compliment me too much, Mister. I forgot my 9 tails at home." Kat giggled, nodding her head towards the two new-comers as a way of greeted them.

"Ohh, this lovely fox has such a charming smile. Are you trying to trap me under your spell?" this chestnut haired man, very bold and straight-forward, stepped in front of the red haired girl, his hand going to her hair, taking a strand of it and twirling it flirtatiously.

"My, my, aren't you a casanova? It was not my intention to enchant you, however, I cannot say I mind it." her fox-like smirk, playful and full of mischief, made this easy-going man laugh boisterously.

"Why don't we have some tea together? I want to know more about you." he raised the girl's chin gingerly, with his finger, gazing affectuously in her eyes.

"We were just having a cup of tea. You and your friend may join us, if you will. I was thinking of getting some sweets as well." she chuckled gleefully as she gingerly put her hand over his wrist and guiding him to the table so the 5 of them could enjoy some nice tea and dango.

"You're at it again... Honestly, please stop it, Lord Shingen, this flirting is really annoying." Yuki sweat-dropped awkwardly.

"Come on, Yuki, you can't expect me to stay silent when I have the honour of being in the presence of such a charming young lady! Or... Maybe it is that you are jealous and too shy to approach her yourself!" Shingen... Takeda Shingen, the Tiger of Kai, teased the boy cheerfully.

"N-NO! It's nothing like that!" but Shingen could only laugh, his arm around Kat's shoulder, as she was just smiling serenely, as if she had no idea that's Takeda Shingen hugging and flirting with her, while Uesugi Kenshin was glaring into the horizon and Sanada Yukimura was blushing like a green boy because of her teasing.

"If you're shy, just say so, Yuki! There's nothing wrong with that. There are many women who are into the easily-flustered type~!" putting her hand over her mouth to stifle her teasing chuckle, it seemed her Kat and Shingen paired up nicely to fluster up the poor boy.

"That's enough, you two. You are attracting too much attention towards you." Kenshin spoke, devoid of any emotion.

"Katrina, since you are a friend of Sasuke's, I will tell you a secret. There will be a war soon. Go to another country as soon as you can." as he said that, the Sasuke tapped the girl's shoulder, motioning for her to get up from the table and step away, to have a semi-private conversation together.

"The famous Yukimura Sanada is worrying about me while Takeda Shingen flirts with me. I think I hit the warlord jackpot." Kat hummed in amusement, only to see the ninja's serious expression.

"How is Nobunaga treating you? Did you tell him about the time-travel thing and the wormhole that will appear in 3 months?" he asked, pondering.

"Yep. All the warlords know by now. Of course, it's only kept between them, thankfully. And I told him about the portal, he tried to bribe me with a bet, but I refused. I think I've got a pretty decent grasp on his personality, he's not as impossible to predict as I first thought... And yet, he still surprises." she tilted her head leisurely to explain the situation.

"I don't mean to scare you, but just in case, you should have a way to protect yourself from Nobunaga or any warlord that may imprison you or put you in danger. I'm sure you know that if you miss the next wormhole, you might never be able to go back to the present again... Which is why... If you think anything's going to happen, use these to escape." and thus, Sasuke handed her some smoke bombs and ground spikes he manufactured himself by watching online tutorials, which was super cool and made Kat grin, remembering the cosplay costumes he worked so hard on, especially the Temari one, from Naruto. Oh, how she loved Temari and wanted to find a Shikamaru for herself... "Always think of protecting yourself, Kat. The Dragon of Echigo and the Tiger of Kai are after Lord Nobunaga. What I'm saying is... Don't get deeply involved with the people of this time. And before I forget... Watch out for a demon dressed as a monk." as he said that, Kat's emerald eyes widened in realisation.

"Sasuke... The guy who tried to assassinate Nobunaga as Honno-Ji... Was that this guy you're warning me about?" she gasped, only for him to give her a solemn look.

"Unless he delegated, then most-likely, yes." he grunted softly.

"Hey, Sasuke, I wouldn't mind revealing my identity now. I am the Lord of Echigo's Kasugayama Castle, Uesugi Kenshin. Do me a favour and tell people that you have seen us here in Azuchi. I am ready to take on everyone willing to face me in battle." the winter-aesthetic man drew his sword fearlessly, a certain frozen smile on his face.

"That was a brave affirmation of war. Is this how all warlords are, or is it just you two?" Kat asked, hoping to keep things light-hearted and non-violent, at least when she was around.

"Don't let yourself be fooled by this one." Shingen pushed Kenshin away, getting the spotlight. "Kenshin and I have been fighting Nobunaga for years. My name is Takeda Shingen. People call me the Tiger of Kai... But unlike Kenshin here, I don't draw my sword freely, especially now that I've met such a beautiful woman like you." as he said that, he grinned confidently, dazzling, as his hand caressed her hair.

"You're really flattering me, Shingen... Ah, pardon my familiar addressing, I couldn't help myself." she chuckled playfully, feeling less intimidated now as the flirty man was in her aura, not the ice-man anymore.

"How foolish... It's like you need to flirt with women just to survive, Shingen." Kenshin scolded the warlord who could only grin at him.

"You're just jealous this one likes me, and not you." Shingen playfully attacked Kenshin, only for the platinated man to turn away with no reaction, disappointed the chestnut haired one.

"You seem like really close friends~!" Kat chirped, despite knowing very well they were mortal enemies for a long time... Or at least history said so!

However, before Shingen could reply, an obnoxiously annoying voice called out her name, destroying her zen immediately, and Shingen could see the angry and fed up grimace on her face as she recognized the voice's owner.

The man stomped to the girl's side and snatched her roughly by the wrist, in his embrace, glaring at the Takeda lord, who could only watch the scene with passiveness and slight irritation at having that nice moment interrupted.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, flirting with other men when you have me!" Drew yelled in her face, grasping her shoulders harshly, making her flinch from the loud noise right in her ears.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We were merely having a decent, pleasant conversation about this fine weather. Is that a crime?" Kat sneered at him, lying through her teeth as she pushed away the obnoxious brat.

"His hand was on your hair, and you two were sharing bedroom eyes, undressing each other in your minds, and you really think that such a stupid, obvious lie will fool me?!" yell more and the whole Japan will hear you.

"You're overreacting and being dramatic again. If you have confidence issues, go ahead and solve them, but I have nothing to do with them. Then again... With how painfully annoying and disrespectful you're being to me, I wouldn't mind throwing you to the piranhas and running away with Lord Shingen." Kat started mockingly laughing in his face.

"I wouldn't mind that either, lovely fox~." Shingen, from the back, chuckled as well.

"ENOUGH!" and, shocking everyone, Kat found herself with the blade of a small dagger at her neck. "ENOUGH! STOP CHEATING ON ME, YOU STUPID, DUMB WHORE! I'M FED UP WITH YOU AND THE SHIT YOU DO TO ME! IT HURTS ME TOO, YOU KNOW?!" Drew had tears of frustration in his eyes as he dug the blade deeper into the girl's skin, enough to draw a little bit of blood.

"Are you done?" Kat sighed, rolling her eyes at his childishness.

"...What?!" he gasped, his hand trembling on the dagger handle.

"I said - Are you done? You're wailing like a cat in distress, what the hell is wrong with you? If you want to be a man, you gotta start acting like one and earn some respect. Look at you. You're nothing more than an entitled, whiny brat who wallows in self-pity and sobs to his mummy over the smallest things. You can't even hold that dagger without shaking like a leaf. You couldn't take a life, even if your own life was in danger. What the hell are you good for, anyway? You disgust me. You truly piss me off." Kat's sweet and cheerful voice became dark and threatening, spreading a miasma of freezing poison that made Drew grit his teeth and shake even more.

He knew... She wasn't one to get angry, hence why he took her for granted and would behave any way he wanted to... But he hasn't seen her this wrathful is so long, it slipped his mind that she had such a vengeful side of her. Without the least bit of fear, the red haired girl brought her hand up to the blade, pulling it away from her neck, and as an affirmation of her dominance and strength, she gripped it tightly, enough to draw blood and paint the metal crimson. She titled her head menacingly, the way she saw Michael Myers do in the Halloween movies, but then, she smirked, seeing the man cower in fear and let go of the blade - And she hit him over the head with the handle with all her strength, making him fall to the ground, screaming for mercy - The display was so pathetic and disgusting that Kat couldn't help herself and stomped down on him.

"You know you messed up bad enough if you got me angry. Now you suffer the consequences. You are not a man, you're just a pathetic excuse of a waste of breath who thinks the whole world owes him. Next time you decide to piss me off, remember that you are the one who offered me this dagger, and unlike you... I'm not afraid of using it." and with one more kick in the back, Drew finally became enough of a coward to pick himself up and run the hell away from there, making the girl sigh in annoyance, not wanting to look back at the men staring at her, feeling the burning rage in her heart turn into quick embarrassment.

However, that silence was filled with a single set of steps that walked in front of her, and she found herself being faced with a smiling Shingen, who carefully took her hand in his own, kissed the back of it, then wrapped it up in a handkerchief, before using the sleeve of his own kimono to wipe away the faint necklace of crimson dribble from her neck. "I don't think I've ever seen a woman as brave and firey as you are. Are you sure you're not a Kitsune?"

"...I never said I wasn't, did I?" after a few seconds, the ghost of a half-smile appeared on her face, continuing the playful back and forth with him.

"Sure you don't want to run away with me?" he chuckled, caressing her face, a bright, gigolo smile gracing his features.

"Ask me that after our 3rd date, Shingen. Until then... I'll see you around, maybe?" she mused, earning yet another mirthful laugh from him, as booming as always.

"I love confident, cheeky women like you, yet I have to say, I haven't met anyone to direct and straightforward like you! I'm looking forward to having having that date with you, lovely fox~!" and with that, the 4 men departed back to their castles, leaving the red haired girl to chuckle softly to herself, walking back to Azuchi.

"If only you didn't have cancer, Shingen... You're the only man who ever made me feel like a woman." despite the sorrow in her voice, she still smiled, albeit it was bittersweet.

She was ready to turn in for the night and just chill around in her room, however, one of the men who serves under Nobunaga told her she must attend a war council - She was surprised, sure, but at the same time, pretty excited about being allowed to seat through more of these.

As Kat announced her presence and got inside the room, she noticed the warlords were already there... And Drew as well, was trembling still, sitting next to Mitsunari. However as soon as he noticed the red haired girl, he let out a distressed wail and stormed out of there, making everyone look after him with wide eyes. Sighing and rolling her eyes, Kat turned around to close the sliding door, as he didn't even have the audacity to something so easy. Idiot.

"What was that about?" Hideyoshi asked, very confused.

"It seems our little fire fox came from an altercation with a few scratches on." Mitsuhide pointed out, alarming the other warlords.

"Ah...Well, when a dog is bad and misbehaves, you punish him. You may get bitten in the meantime, but as long as you assert your dominance and authority over it, then it's all good." she chuckled venomously, only to see the silver haired fox smirk at her.

"My, my, what a cunning fox we have here. You're not about to bite our noses while we sleep, are you?" Mitsuhide teased her, as she sat down next to Ieyasu.

"Not at all. In the end, I am no dog owner. That stupid mutt was just greedy and thought he could eat me. It's his fault for being stupid and getting suffocated with my fur. Besides... Noses are dirty with mucus. The neck, however... I can confirm, they are very... Delicious." the fox girl made such a bold implication that made Masamune laugh, while Mitsuhide and Nobunaga only smirked in amusement, while the other three either gasped and blushed at her rudeness, or looked innocently confused.

"Very well, enough of that. Since you've been working so hard, and more, as you've saved my people, I will have you rewarded personally. Until then, let us begin our discussion." Nobunaga smirked from his far away seat of honour, as the main warlord.

But she was not surprised in the least that such a topic of discussion was brought upon, and yet, rumours sure fly fast around the castle - She wondered, for a stupid second, weather social media was as fast as all these spies and gossips around. What a silly thought.

The Dragon of Echigo is still alive and he's sheltering the Tiger of Kai

What a lovely metaphor for such lovely people.

Oh, this was going to be one very fun war council indeed.

< Previous Chapter

Next Chapter >

#behind the veil #ikesen #ikesen x oc #ikesen imagine #ikesen x reader #ikemen sengoku x oc #ikemen sengoku x reader #ikemen sengoku imagine #ikemen sengoku #oda nobunaga x hasashi katrina #oda nobunaga x oc #oda nobunaga x reader #oda nobunaga imagine #oda nobunaga

2 notes · View notes

shebeafancyflapjack · 2 years ago

Text

A Very Special Delivery

(I couldn't contain the feels, so I had to write a fic. Sorry in advance!)

The sun seems brighter than usual as it begins to set over the western treeline. Bad men live in those forests, she knows, she's been warned ever since she could walk to never go off wandering beyond the fence alone. Sometimes she had nightmares about those men, especially after Jackie told her those silly ghost stories, and when Mama found out she chased him around the barn with a pitchfork for an hour. Looking at the treetops now, though, she doesn't feel afraid. Something tells her that she could finally go walking in that forest for hours on her own, picking the prettiest flowers and chasing the bunnies, and not a single man or beast could harm her.

She doesn't leave. Not yet. She sits on the step of the porch, bare feet swinging, soaking up the golden rays of the sun on her face after what felt like months in her little room. It's a warm afternoon, the kind Mama would usually tell her to wear a hat or hold a parasol to protect her pale skin, but she doesn't need that anymore. She stretches her tiny fingers in front of her, wiggling them about, imagining she's playing the sunbeams like keys on the piano. And somehow she manages to hear what music the light makes (much better than Mama's playing, not that she'd tell her that...Maybe just whisper to to Daddy in private).

A soft clapping of hooves in the distance interrupts her performance. A cooling shadow falls over her as she looks to see the silhouette of a man riding towards the house. This man is real tall, bigger than Pa, much bigger than the delivery men who sometimes come to collect the milk and eggs. They don’t usually come this late in the day either.

He could be one of the bad men from the Tall Trees. A monster from her brother’s stories come to steal her away. She’s all alone out here, which is odd, and no one would see if this man gobbled her up like the big bad wolf.

But that ain’t gonna happen. She knows that, as soon as she gets a look at the man’s face. Any tingle of fear is washed away by those eyes.

The man eases his horse to stop. A great big, beautiful mare with black spots and a chestnut mane that looks well brushed. Even the horse looks friendly; strong but friendly, just like her rider.

She gets to her feet, one hand on the wooden railing, as the man dismounts.

He takes off his hat; “Good evenin’, little lady.” He greets her, gruff but gallant, and she’s reminded of the knights from Jack’s other stories. She likes those ones a lot.

“Hi…” she squeaks, feeling oddly bashful; “Uhh, how d’you do?” She tries to be polite, as Ma would want her to be addressing a stranger.

He smiles and nods; “How d’you do. I hope I haven’t scared you.”

“You ain’t, mister.” She tells him, honestly, still clutching onto the wood with one hand. The man isn’t scary at all. Every bone in her body tells her that he wouldn’t hurt her.

There’s just something about him, about this moment, that’s got her feeling real strange. Like something important is about to happen and she doesn’t quite understand it, or know if she wants it. The world suddenly feels too large, when for all her life it’s mostly been this house and this ranch and the few trips she took beyond that fence, to the river or over the fields, only twice into the nearby town for a movie and an ice cream.

He gives a chuckle at her answer and takes a step closer; “I sure am glad to hear that for once.”

Her eyes glance to the object he’s holding to his chest.

“I know that hat! Pa keeps it above the fireplace!” She says with a point of her finger.

“That a fact?”

She nods; “Mmm hmm. The deer that Daddy killed wears it. I think it looks silly. Deers don’t wear hats! Only antlers!”

The man laughs again; “I guess that’s true, but it wouldn’t be the strangest thing I saw, I’ll tell you that.” He walks closer and places the hat on top of her long, dark hair; “Here. Why don’t you hold onto it for me, for a bit?”

The black leather falls over her eyes, it’s far too big for her. But she tips it back, holding the rim with both hands, looking up to give the man a smile. There’s a tiny wince in his face as he looks down at her and she worries, for a moment, that he’s about to cry. A sniff, then he’s back to beaming at her.

“Mind telling me your name, darlin’?” He asks.

She doesn’t see any harm in it; “Morgan. Miss. Morgan Abigail Marston.”

“Morgan Mar…” The man cringes, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath; “John, you sentimental little bastard.”

“Huh?”

“Nothin’, nothin’.” He brushes off.

“I get called Abby though. Pa only calls me Morgan if I’m in big trouble.”

The man snorts another laugh; “Yeah, that sounds more right. And how old are you, Miss. Abby? You mind if I call you Abby?”

She shrugs, not minding at all; “I’s three and a half this May.”

“Three and a half? You sure do talk clever for one so little.”

That’s true, she does. From the moment she learned to talk, she’s been a little chatterbox, as Uncle says. The grown ups would go from endeared to exasperated by her constant babbling. She knew what she was trying to say, but they rarely seemed to understand her, grown-ups were dumb like that. Jack seemed to know what she was saying more often, he’d share with her words that Ma and Pa didn’t seem to know, which only confused them more when she spoke. It’s only very recently that she had to be quiet, as talking made her very tired, her little chest so sore and heavy all the time.

“How old are you, Mister?”

“Take a guess.”

Abby looks from the spurs on his boots up to his sandy brown hair, then tilts her head.

“Sixty?”

“Sixty!” The man’s eyes widen, affronted; “I ain’t sixty, you little…!” he bites his lip and groans; “God damn Marstons. Your pa is older than me now and he ain’t sixty!”

Older than him now? That don’t sound right.

“You both very old! And I’m still learning my numbers!” She defends, crossing her arms.

That makes the visitor soften; “Okay, that’s fair. Math weren’t ever my biggest strength either. Writing was more my thing.” He takes seat on the step of the porch, beside her. Even sat down, he’s taller than her whole height.

Abby looks down at her toes; “I ain’t good at that either. My brother teaches me but…the letters get all jumbled around. Makes my eyes sore. I like to draw though.”

“Really? Me too.”

“I can draw better than Pa. He has this book he shows me, filled with all these pretty drawings of animals and weird places, but I know they were all done by someone else. I know ‘cause his drawings look like the ones I did when I was two!”

The man gives her a grin; “I don’t doubt it, Miss.”

Abby feels at ease enough to remove her hand from the banister, sitting back down beside the man, balancing his hat on her head. They sit in the most comfortable silence that she’s ever experienced, like she’s known this stranger for as long as she’s known Ma, Pa, Jack and Uncle. Like he’s always been there, which is funny and impossible, yet feels as true as the sun on her face. The sun that probably should have disappeared behind the horizon by now.

It's as if the whole world is playing her favourite game where they all pretend to be statues when Mama stops playing the piano. There are birds chirping, chickens clucking and cows mooing in the distance, but the sun refuses to budge from its serene position in the sky, and there isn’t another soul in sight to disturb them except for the man’s horse. Even Rufus is nowhere to be seen, though the last time she saw him was when he was curled up at the foot of her bed, giving her weak hand the occasional nudge with his wet nose.

“You ain’t told me your name, Mister.” She says after a while.

“Forgive me, sweetheart.” He sighs, “My name’s Arthur. I’m a…very old friend of your parents.”

“Arthur? Like King Arthur?”

The man doesn’t seem to like that, as he rolls his eyes; “Yeah, sure, like King Arthur. Except I’m anything but a king. I’m just…an ugly, dumb fool!”

She doesn’t think he’s ugly at all. In fact, he looks the same as she always pictured the King when Jack read those stories to her. Like a hero.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Arthur?”

“Oh, it’s just ‘Arthur’, miss. Or…if you want, you can call me ‘Uncle Arthur’, like your brother used to…But. O-only if you want to, of course.” Now he’s the one who’s gone all shy, a hint of color beneath the thick stubble on his cheeks.

“Uncle Arthur.” She gives it a try, then nods; “Okay!” That does sound right. Very right. She didn’t even know she had any Uncles…except for the one, who was more like a grandpa anyway. “Why you here, Uncle Arthur? Why ain’t I seen you before?”

He takes a sad breath; “I’ve been away for a very long time, Abby. And I’ve missed your ma and pa and brother terribly, but…Well. You’ll understand soon, why I haven’t been able to meet you till now. I’m very glad I have though…You’re the spitting image of your pa.”

“Aww, really?” Abby pouts, disappointed, wishing she looked more like Mama.

Uncle Arthur chuckles again, putting a large hand onto her back; “Now don’t worry, you’re much prettier than he ever was!”

Better than nothing, she supposes.

“Anyway…I came here ‘cause I was asked to make a delivery.” He explains.

“You here for the eggs? Or the milk? You ain’t here for Jack, are you? I asked baby Jesus to swap him for a sister instead but I weren’t serious-.”

“No, no, I ain’t here for them, sweet girl.” He rubs at her back; “…I’m here for you.”

A chill runs through her.

“Me…?”

Arthur nods, solemn, fingers clasping securely around her shoulder; “Your daddy…He asked me if I could come get you…and take you some place real nice, somewhere you’re gonna be very happy.”

She believes him. She trusts him.

But…

“Don’t they want me anymore?”

His mouth gapes like a fish, it would be funny if she wasn’t so ready to cry; “I…’Course they want you, sweetheart, they…They love you more than anything in this world!”

Abby sniffs, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand, salt-water filling her eyes.

“I know they been real sad lately…” She tells him, voice breaking; “Mama’s so tired, I haven’t seen her sleep, she always sitting next to my bed. And Pa…He got so mad when the doctor came to visit me, I ain’t ever seen him that angry before. I didn’t understand what they were saying. Mama was crying, then so was Jack, even the dog started…”

“…But not you?”

She shakes her head; “I wanna cry, sometimes, but I can’t always. Mama said I’m the same as Daddy. He don’t like to cry either. We both have…’hot heads’, she says. I saw Daddy cry once though, when I woke up the other night, he was on his knees next to my bed. I think he was talking to Jesus, but I was too tired to listen…”

Arthur holds her a little closer into his side.

“You haven’t been feeling very well, have you Abby?” He asks, carefully.

She shakes her head. It had been so easy to forget. Forget the burning pain in her lungs. Forget the icy shivers wracking her tiny body. Forget the black shadows dancing on her walls as the fevers got worse. Forget how stiff and heavy her arms and legs felt.

“I’m all better now. See? I don’t cough anymore! I can breathe like I used to!” she takes a great theatrical inhale and exhale to demonstrate; “It feels really good!”

“I know, sweetheart.” Arthur smiles; “I remember…”

It hits her then. The truth. Without even needing the concept fully explained to her, she knows exactly what’s happened. The reason she feels so much ‘better’. The reason she’s out here all alone. The reason the world is playing musical statues.

The reason her Uncle Arthur has come to get her.

She takes a glance back at the house. The closed front door. The drawn curtains.

“…Can’t I say goodbye?”

Arthur gives her a squeeze; “You can, but…You can’t see them right now. It’s…a bit complicated, how it all works, but…”

“Okay,” she accepts, feeling the lump in her throat.

He pulls her close and she buries her face in his jacket, one little hand reaching around his middle. The tears fall now. Not big, loud sobs, 'cause she’s not a baby. She’s strong and brave like Mama and Aunt Sadie, who she’s never met but Jack tells her about. Of all the characters he’s introduced her to and let into her dreams, she’s her favorite.

Uncle Arthur’s thumb rubs circles into her arm; “We can sit here for as long as you want. And then, whenever you’re ready, we’ll go for a ride. Okay, darlin’?”

Abby nods, the tiniest whimper squeaking from her lips.

She doesn’t need long. There’s no need for her to pack. No tiny suitcase to stuff full of her clothes and pencils and crochet animals. Instinct tells her that, where they’re going, everything she wants will already be there waiting. Besides, she can come back and visit later, if she wants, as Arthur tells her. He says that he’s come to check in on them from time to time, even when she was born and long before then. It’s hard, he says, to be there and see them all, but not be seen back…But he did it. Many, many times. She thinks she will too.

For now though, Morgan Abigail Marston detaches herself from her uncles side once the tears have all dried. She picks herself up and brushes herself down, fingers smoothing against her dirty nightdress.

“Uhh…You sure you don’t wanna put on some clothes? Or shoes?”

Abby shrugs, “Nah, I’m good.”

Arthur snorts; “’Course you are. You’re your pa’s daughter, all right.”

He offers her his hand and she takes it, letting it swallow hers up. He leads her off the steps and towards his horse, who pads at the ground with her hoof.

“Miss. Abby, meet Boadicea. Boadicea, meet Miss. Abby Marston.” Arthur introduces them, patting Abby’s back; “You wanna pet her?”

She nods. Oh, yes! She eases closer, reaching her hand out as the mare dips her head for the child to stroke her mane. Her fingers run through the silky smooth locks of hair, just as soft as she imagined.

“I think she likes you, kid. She must think you’re special.”

Abby glances around the ranch.

“…Can’t I ride my pony?” She was getting so good before she got sick. Not quite ready to ride without still being tethered to Rachel and Daddy, but close.

“Aww, I’m sorry, Miss. Like Jack and your folks, I’m afraid she’s gotta stay here…”

“Oh…okay.” She has to accept that too.

There’s a soft neighing sound in the distance. Is that her pony, Belle, calling for her? Does she know that she’s going away?

Arthur scoops her up off the ground, holding her like she weighs less than a handful of straw.

“Now don’t you worry. There’s plenty of ponies for you to ride where we’re going…and more. You got a bunch of other aunts and uncles all excited to meet you…I’ll warn you now, your grandpa Hosea might squash you with all the hugs he’s got…And my little boy, Isaac, he’s around your age and can’t wait to play with you. Anything you want, anything you can imagine, it’ll be yours. And then one day…won’t even feel that long to wait…your ma and pa will come find us. Even Jack, eventually…But for now, you okay to ride on Boadicea with me? I know she’s bigger than you’re used to, but…You’ll always be safe with me. I promise.”

She nods. Once again, there’s not a flicker of doubt in his words.

She lets him place her at the front of his saddle. Her legs are far too shorts to reach any stirrups but she holds onto the leather seat as Arthur mounts up, swinging his leg over and then wrapping one arm tight around her front, his other taking the reins.

“That feel all right?” He checks with her, letting her shift so she’s comfy.

“Mmm hmm,” she nods, “…I feel so tall!”

“Yeah, you are. Tallest lady in America, you are, Abby Marston.” He teases, fixing his hat on her before it can fall off; “…You ready to go?”

She takes another look at the house. Her home. Her…life.

“…Bye Mama. Bye Pa. Bye Jackie…Look after them for me…And Rufus, look after Jack…” she whispers to the house. Then she takes a deep breath; “…Okay. I’m ready, Uncle Arthur.”

A click of his tongue, a gentle tug on the reins.

“As you wish, my lady. Let's get you home.”

#rdr2 #rdr2 fic #tw: child death #arthur morgan #uncle arthur #john marston #red dead #rdr1

34 notes · View notes

amrv-5 · 1 year ago

Note

HIIIII PARKER 🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲 x 1000

HIIII HELEN THANK YOU!!!! This one was really fun too!!!! Sorry these are taking so long I’m having a hard time keeping it under 1K. I failed but only barely with this one. Anyway, generator rolled up: 34. A kiss after a bite, so I’ve gone with an AU of my vampire AU, which is like, what if I was less ambiguous about the ending and said that BJ and Hawkeye were living in LA together and BJ’s not sure if he’s a boyfriend or a bloodbag but actually he’s kind of into that dilemma, and so on. Below the cut for Suggestive Themes (wow) and also, well, blood and vampire stuff.

He woke to the sound of Hawkeye’s oxfords—a quiet clatter as he toed them off and kicked them aside. An intentional choice. Hawkeye was getting better at make small noises to alert BJ to his presence, but still, when he wasn’t making an effort, moved with an uncanny silence. He was always startling nurses on the night shift.

“Morning,” BJ said, keeping his eyes closed.

Another intentional shifting of fabric as Hawkeye moved closer in the dark. “Not quite.”

The bed sank under the addition of his weight. The covers shifted. BJ flinched as Hawkeye slipped an ice-cold hand under his shirt.

“Sorry,” Hawkeye whispered into the nape of his neck.

Lying with him was strange, BJ reflected. He still wasn’t quite used to it. Hawkeye was colder than he ought to be nearly all of the time, and when he wasn’t—well, when he wasn’t, BJ preferred not to ask why, and avoided looking at newsstands for the rest of the week.

But Hawkeye was cool to the touch today. BJ relaxed against him, trying to return to sleep as Hawkeye’s skin warmed incrementally. Conductive heat transfer. It unnerved him, slightly, when he wasn’t too busy feeling more than a little bit bad for Hawkeye, who hated to feel cold and was constantly wrapping himself in unseasonably heavy sweaters. There were other strange realities they both had to contend with. Hawkeye shredded toothbrushes at an unsustainable rate, for one, and for two had an unsettling habit of stalking pigeons, dogs, rats, anything that got frightened and fled from him.

Unnerving, unsettling, yes, but the truth was, he kind of—it was hard to explain why, precisely, but he had slowly come to realize he liked everything unique and strange and unsettling about Hawkeye. Loved it, even. Maybe he had something really wrong with him. It wasn’t normal to thrill with the knowledge a lover had the capacity to kill, had, in unoccupied moments, the flat cold stare of something more innately vicious than humanity, but then again… it was a little flattering, wasn’t it, that BJ seemed largely insulated from Hawkeye’s sharper side?

With BJ, he was soft, friendly, playful as he’d always been. Intelligent and interesting and very sweet. Nearly impossible to imagine him how he’d been at his most untamed—crouched, complicatedly angular in his posture, over an empty collection bottle, eyes blown black, blood slicking his bare chest. That all seemed a world away now. Except when Hawkeye came home late and suspiciously lax, with light catching on his incisors, his face flush with heat, the sort of night that preceded days of headlines decrying vigilanteism and violent murders. But BJ had always been a dab hand at denial.

Hawkeye’s breath ghosted over his bare shoulder. Cool, too. Nothing in him was warm under his own power.

“Did you eat?” BJ asked, holding his forearm.

Hawkeye nosed against his neck. When he spoke, it was directly against the back of his ear, his palm flat against BJ’s chest: “Is that a question, or an offer?”

BJ shivered, a sting of fear heightening an abrupt arousal as Hawkeye swept his tongue, curiously, lightly, over his carotid. He swallowed hard, eyes still closed. “One, and then the other, depending.”

Hawkeye laughed lowly. Another testing lick up the line of his sternocleidomastoid before Hawkeye pressed his face entirely into the side of his neck and inhaled.

BJ had wondered, for a while, why he’d kept the ability to breathe, when his heart had long since stopped. He couldn’t see any real reason for it, until he considered the fact it might be advantageous for scenting prey.

Not that BJ was prey, he told himself, tightening his grasp on Hawkeye’s wrist. Hawkeye was still Hawkeye. In the light of day, he was the same person he’d always been. If more prone to photosensitivity. It was only times like these—dark mornings, the ends of shifts, moments of exhaustion—when the image slipped.

“No,” Hawkeye said, and caught BJ’s earlobe briefly between his teeth. Delicate. Careful. He could feel the edge of a fang—not cutting in. Just there. Present. “D’you think I should?”

BJ gasped, pressing back into Hawkeye’s weight, his solidity. He bared his neck without even thinking about it, eyes shut tight. He wanted to see. He was too frightened to look. There was something really wrong with him. He was safe, he tried to convince himself, somehow comforted by Hawkeye’s arms around him even as he shivered, unnerved by the needle-scratch sensation of a fangtip dragging against the thin skin of his neck—pausing over his exposed carotid for just long enough to frighten him.

His pulse pounded and he gripped Hawkeye’s wrist for reassurance. Hawkeye was touching him gently, stroking his chest, calm and steady, comforting, though he hadn’t moved the razor edge of his teeth away from BJ’s neck. If he bit him there, it’d kill him. Flat out.

But Hawkeye didn’t. He shifted back. His breath skimmed over the juncture of BJ’s shoulder and neck once, and again, and a third time. BJ tried his best to relax, exhaling his tension. Like getting a shot, it’d only really hurt if he locked up.

Hawkeye’s hand pressed more firmly into his chest, bringing BJ tight against him. BJ failed to suppress a noise even he couldn’t place—fear, arousal, anticipation of pain, desperate desire, maybe all of it at once—before Hawkeye sank his fangs into BJ’s shoulder.

“Good,” Hawkeye said, muffled, holding him in place as he worried at the wound, encouraging the blood to flow more freely. BJ kept his eyes shut and tried to ignore how his body was responding to something that ought to be, by any reasonable metric, horrific.

Eventually Hawkeye decided he’d had enough. He pulled off, applied a series of gentle kitten-licks to BJ’s shoulder until the bleeding stopped, and then sighed, pleased, against the back of BJ’s neck. He was warmer against BJ now. And BJ was only mildly dizzy. He rolled carefully onto his back, body alight, head swimming.

Hawkeye rose to straddle him and paused there, face unreadable in the dark. He held BJ’s jaw, turning his face this way and that—he could see far better in the dark than BJ could. Better than he’d probably ever be able to. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. BJ felt—appraised. Like a cut of meat in a butcher’s window. He wondered in a way he usually tried not to allow himself how much of Hawkeye was really left, if there was any part of him that was genuine, or if all his typical charm was by now only image, performance, an aspiration to a long-dead self to cover over an animal insatiability.

Hawkeye released his jaw and dipped down to kiss him. It was gentle, sweet, reassuring, and fond. It was exactly how Hawkeye usually kissed. Comfortable. Familiar. No reason to believe he wasn’t who he’d always been. Except that Hawkeye tasted undeniably of iron.

#my fic #ask game #THANK YOU HELEN!!!!#this is unedited but I had fun!!!! hope it's okay!!!!!

11 notes · View notes

woodenplank-gt · 6 months ago

Text

Escape

Poor Sage has gone through so much in such a short amount of time (I say as if I didn’t write the story)

2K words

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Sage woke from her sleep with a harsh jolt. Her reoccurring nightmares finally kicking her back out into reality. She rubbed her blurry eyes to try and rid them of the phantoms of her dreams, something she's been having to do more often.

Sage gingerly sat up and grimaced. Her body felt unbelievably stiff and worn down, but her fuzzy mind failed to recall why. Maybe a training session gone wrong? Or did she fly straight into a tree trunk? She didn't really care what happened as long as she didn't embarrass herself in front of Rod. He was well known for holding things over people's heads. Sage would be lucky if he never mentioned her falling butt first on the ice the other day.

She pushed a thick blanket off of her to find anyone who could give her answers, but one glance around the room quickly reminded her of her.... situation.

The memories of the previous day flashed back into her mind; the celebration, the blizzard, the sprite ambush, collapsing into the snow, and then waking up with a gigantic face mere inches away her.

Sage unconsciously moved her hand and gently caressed her damaged wings. Those wings were her life. They were her pride and joy and Sage kept utmost care of them. Now, they were torn up and destroyed by some greedy sprites, unable to catch the air and fly like they were made to do. She didn't even know if they would ever heal and return to their former glory. Especially with the humans messing with them.

Sage couldn't help but cringe at the image of the two impossibly giant humans towering over her. How defenseless she felt under their intense gaze. Their hands big enough to close around her and snap the life out of her no matter how hard she fought back. She was too weak. Too fragile. It was something she never wanted to experience again.

And she won't.

Carefully sitting on the large red cloth, she surveyed the world around her. It looked like she was in some sort of kitchen area. The light gray countertops in the far distance gleamed in the strange, bright lights that hung from the impossibly high ceiling. Glancing over her shoulder, a room with huge couches and a large black box connected to the kitchen. Sage presumed it was the human's living room.

She looked around some more but failed to see any signs of the giants. Deeming it safe, Sage forced her aching muscles to climb down the cloth. A hiss of pain escaped her clenched teeth as she moved her leg. With the wrapping, Sage was unable to see how bad the injury truly was. A part of her was relieved about that.

When she reached the "ground," she saw the plate of berries and the small water container nearby. As Sage slowly inched closer, she noticed both the food and water seemed to be new. The half eaten berry was no longer on the plate and the dirtied water was now clear. Her heart skipped a beat in realization. They were replaced while she was asleep! Sage wanted to scream at herself for falling asleep and leaving herself completely vulnerable, but stayed silent. This was her chance of escape and she wasn't going to ruin it by having a tantrum.

Disappointed in herself, Sage continued to slowly limp to the edge of the table, refusing to take anymore food from the humans like some sort of pet. Once she reached her destination, she cautiously peered over the edge. Normally, heights and gravity meant absolutely nothing to the fairy. But with a pair of useless wings hanging off her back, the distance between her and the floor made her stomach do flips.

The floor seemed to stretch further and further away the longer she stared, turning her knees to jelly. Sage stepped away from the edge before she collapsed, her heart racing a mile per minute. Sage made a mental note to apologize to any nymph she had mocked for being afraid of heights. Having no wings to catch you sucked.

Sage took some time to breathe before laying on her stomach and gingerly scooting to the edge once more. Trying not to look directly down, she glanced to the side towards one of the chairs pushed underneath. The chair seat seemed to be made of a white fabric, one that could cushion a fall. A very painful fall, but it wouldn't kill her. Hopefully.

Desperate to escape the human house that kept her locked away from the forest, she eagerly, but cautiously, limped towards the chair. Sage peeked over the edge again, but didn't feel as sick now that the distance was cut in half. Although she didn't want to take her chances and quickly got to work.

Sage gripped the edge of the table and slowly lowered herself off, letting her body hang off the edge and over the seat of the chair. Her wings trembled nervously, sending slight pains up her back, but Sage's steel grip didn't loosen despite the aches in her muscles. Her fingers were glued to the edge, now terrified of letting go of the safety of solid ground.

You have to do this. This is the only way out of here. The humans will be back, Sage argued with herself. With the added encouragement, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let go of the table.

But everything is easier said than done.

Instant regret shot through her and she let out a startled cry. Her arms and legs thrashed wildly in the air, but were unable to stop the descent. Her destroyed wings fluttered rapidly out of instinct, sending stabbing pains through her body. Sage abruptly thudded on the white seat cushion, her tiny body bouncing on the impact. The air was knocked out of her lungs and all she could do was lay limply, gasping for air.

Her instincts screamed at her to get up, but Sage was unable to move. Everything hurt. Her head felt like a sack of rocks and blood roared in her ears. The sound of heavy stomping barely registered in her brain, but Sage made no attempts to get up. She already pushed her tired and beaten body too much. So far, the humans showed no ill-intent towards her and Sage was willing to take a leap of faith and trust the brothers. Despite not having a choice on the matter.

She closed her eyes and waited for the giants.

—————

Down the hallway from the kitchen was a cozy office filled with books and scattered papers. An abandoned desk sat at the back of the room, the large window behind it being the only source of light. Tukka's head drooped down from the red couch in the center of the room, his messy fur stuck out in all directions as the result of a good dream. Probably one filled with bacon.

Cade sat on the couch next to his beloved dog with his eyes closed. His medicine drained the little energy he had, and Cade found himself taking naps every chance he got. Arthur, on the other hand, restlessly paced around the small office. It had been a couple hours since they left the fairy and the sun was beginning to settle down. Arthur had been itching to go and try to talk to their strange house guest again, but Cade insisted they gave her space so she could rest peacefully.

Arthur did one more lap around the room before flopping face first onto the red couch across from his brother, letting out a loud groan.

"You good?" Cade mumbled as he forced his eyes open, but he felt he already knew the answer.

Arthur slowly sat up on the couch but kept his eyes on the wooden floor. Strands of brown hair fell out of his man bun and covered his face,"I just want to apologize to her. I was trying to keep her from falling off the edge of the sweatshirt. I didn't think she would get that scared." He covered the shame on his face with his hands,"I must have looked like a monster to her."

Cade knew this feeling all too well. Ever since tinies were granted full rights a few years ago, he has run into more and more tinies during his shifts now that people actually called their injuries in. He and his partner always tried to assure their tiny patients they were safe, but that never stopped them from scurrying away from their hands in a panic. One borrower even tried jumping out the ambulance and screamed bloody murder when Cade caught him before he became a bloody puddle on the ground.

He knew their fear of humans were valid after decades of abuse, but it still pained him to see the terror on their faces. Unfortunately, Cade has grown used to being a monster in their eyes, but Arthur was not prepared for the same treatment.

The last thing he wanted was Arthur beating himself up for something out of his control,

"Tinies are scared of humans no matter our intentions, it's what kept them alive for so long. You did the right thing keeping her from falling."

Cade watched as Arthur slowly lifted his head out of his hands,"but you saw what happened. I hurt her-"

The older man quickly interrupted the damning thoughts, trying to pull Arthur out of the downhill spiral called guilt, "She was already hurt when I found her, you had nothing to do with it," Cade rubbed his eyes in a failed attempt to get the sleep out of them. He continued," The little thing was going to aggravate her injuries sooner or later. Now she knows to take it easy."

Guilt still plagued his younger brother's face, but Arthur kept his thoughts to himself. Cade used the silence as an opportunity to clear his head. He leaned back against the soft cushions and closed his eyes, hoping to finally catch up on some sleep. However, a small noise cut through the silence. It was a quiet sound that the humans would have missed if their ears weren't tuned to pick up any small noises from down the hall.

Cade looked at Arthur who held a shocked expression on his face, confirming he heard it as well. In an instant, both men were racing down the hallway towards the small cry.

They arrived in the kitchen and found no trace of the fairy on the sweatshirt or hiding under the washcloth. The blueberries and bottle cap of water remained untouched. Millions of different scenarios raced through Cade's mind, none of which had any positive endings.

"Watch your step," he ordered Arthur before cautiously walking to the round table. Cade watched the ground intently as if the fairy would appear right under his shoes, making the short trek even slower.

At the table, he went down on his hands and knees and looked behind the various table legs. He just started checking behind the chair legs when he saw a tiny figure lying on the seat cushion.

The small fairy was sprawled out on her back. She didn't even move when Cade leaned in to get a closer look, causing a pang of worry to shoot through him. He moved even closer until his eyes were just a few inches away from her body, and intently watched her chest until he noticed the subtle rise and fall of her breathing.

Letting out his own small breath of relief, he asked,"Ms.? Can you hear me?" Of course he didn't expect any sort of response from her.

So, when the woman rolled her head over to meet his eyes, Cade was shocked. She didn't even flinch away from the close proximity like in their first meeting, but that didn't make Cade feel any better. She could easily be concussed and he had no idea how to run the proper tests on someone so small.

He slowly started moving his hands towards her, "I'm gonna pick you up and bring you to the table to check your injuries. Okay?" Even though she showed no signs of understanding English, it felt wrong not to tell her what was going on.

Cade watched the fairy's reaction as he brought his hands closer. He heard Arthur shuffling over behind him, but his entire focus remained on his tiny patient. Fortunately, all the woman did was look away from the hands and closed her eyes, making it easier for Cade to move without startling her.

As gently as he could possibly manage, he scooped the fairy into his hands while being mindful of her injuries and slowly lifted her up. No matter how often he picked up a tiny, Cade still couldn't get over the surreality of it. He was holding a whole person in his palms yet hardly felt any weight.

As he cupped the woman closer to his chest for stability, Cade noticed how his fingers dwarfed the fairy. He could close his fingers and completely engulf her, and no one would even know she was there. Those thoughts reminded him how much responsibility he had on his shoulders and he quickly, but carefully, deposited the fairy on top of the table.

Arthur leaned over his shoulder, "is she okay?" He asked, his voice hiding none of his concern.

Cade looked over his tiny patient once more. Strands of brown hair fell out of her braid and covered part of her face. The gauze wrapped around her leg was starting to become undone, although it had to be changed anyways. His brown eyes fell over to her wings. Without his magnifying glass the numerous cracks in the wings were too small for him to notice, preventing him from seeing any new tears.

He reached under the table where he left his first-aid kit earlier that day, "she'll survive." Cade stated simply,"although, we need to call the T.A.P.A to pick her up as soon as we can."

"You're still thinking about calling them?" Arthur asked, failing to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Cade started taking out the needed supplies from the kit and placed them on the table. The fairy still hadn't moved since he held her and he was getting increasingly worried about the injuries he can't see. Cade sighed,"we've already talked about this. It's for the best."

The younger man leaned over Cade's shoulder, and was disappointed to find the fairy still unresponsive. He knew not to keep arguing with Cade about the whole TAPA situation, especially when he was working. So, he decided to test out something instead, "Can I try something?"

Cade slowly looked over at him with tired eyes, his face full of suspicion,"what are you going to do?" He asked, somewhat fearing the answer.

Arthur pulled out his phone,"I just wanna see if she understands different languages." He shrugged with a grin,"it might get her to wake up." He reasoned.

"I don't think that would-"

"Hola? Bonjour? Ciao? Ahlan?" Arthur stammered through the list of greetings, obviously having no idea how to pronounce anything. Yet he continued strong,"guten tag? Halo? Konnichiwa?" He paused and his brows furrowed at the screen,"z-zdra-vst-vuyte?"

Cade ran a hand over his face,"did it ever cross your mind that she might speak a fae language?"

Arthur looked up from the screen and his cheeks reddened,"no...."

The older brother sighed and grabbed the smallest pair of tweezers he owned and slowly reached out towards the damaged wings, failing to notice the fairy tense up.

#g/t community #g/t writing #g/t #giant/tiny #fairy #hurt/comfort #injured #tiny

3 notes · View notes