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n3kk1tty · 4 months

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This Fanfic is 18 and up only. It contains mature themes not suited for younger readers.

Sinclair Daughter x Thomas Hewitt

~~~~Sweet Heat~~~~~

Word Count: 7,560

Your father's loved you so dearly. They loved you to a level of extreme that was only amplified after the ambrose accident that led you to this new life. Now that you had a partner this love was a difficult thing to navigate around with your secret desires and Hobbies. To say your father's wanted you to stay pure till the last bell chimes on your wedding night was an understatement. Bo was always glaring down Tommy or telling you to split from each other if he caught you kissing Tommy or hugging too long. While Lester damn near kept you busy to keep you from having any alone time to get into trouble and Vincent tore your bedroom door down when you had shown Tommy your bedroom one day.

You were a grown woman and this habit pissed you off as a teen but now as an adult more capable than your parents at times all it did was make you annoyed. While the boys could have porn mags, flirt with victims, drink and do whatever you had to be miss Mother Teresa. You remember how Bo used to and still does stop you from helping with kills even though you're effective at it. You snap the neck of your designated meat rabbit placing its body in the pile next to you as you fume in your shed. I mean even the Hewitts at this rate we're joining in your father's over bearing nature. Luda Mae always tells Tommy to behave and to wait for your wedding night while Hoyt was a pervert who teased you constantly making you madder than hell. Your perfect mask was falling off your face day by day as your urges grew.

You start butchering your pile utilizing every last piece of your little friends as you could trying to calm yourself. You loved Thomas Hewitt more than anything in the world and you had been dating for six months now. What you could not stand was the purity culture swarming you everyday at home. How could you keep yourself off of that sweet muscular man. He was so easy to rile up to but everyone kept getting in your goddamn way. You hid porn mags and such in Tommy's room to give him ideas and a basic sex ED, you hid condoms everywhere in case something happened. You even went so far as to corner Tommy alone as much as you could but it never worked. Either your father's or the Hewitts got in the way of your needs and you couldn't take it anymore.

That night you had to get away to your hiding place. You had a burning need in yourself and if you didn't have your urges satisfied soon you were gonna strip your boyfriend bare in the Texas open dirt roads and jump his fucking bones there. That or you were going to tie your father's upside down by there toes. Sliding open your window you make work to climb out onto the roof carefully before sliding down the support beams of the house before running off into the dark. You couldn't use your flashlight or make much noise till you made it to where you stashed your dirt bike. It was something you picked up with extra money you made at the farmers market. You knew your dad's would kill you if they found out you had one or what you liked to do in your free time so what was the point in showing them.

You couldn't show Tommy neither even though you loved him mostly because the boy treated you like you were glass but nothing was faster through the county fields then your dirt bike and oh boy was it fun to ride. Your father's may have wanted you to be mother Mary incarnate but really what girl raised by murderers isn't gonna be wild. Back in Louisiana you lived a whole double life. Sneaking out, switching out of dresses made from your Dad Vincent into rock t-shirts and short shorts. Hell sometimes just to beat the heat running around in your shorts and a bikini top. You had a dirt bike back home you stole from a victim and it was so fun to ride when you moved to Texas you just had to get one to ride the dirt trails.

You couldn't let your dad's catching you like this though. If Bo knew you got a tattoo behind his back he'd tan your hide into next week I mean you've been hiding it since you were a teen but he still would. You smile as you ride away to your hiding spot remembering your teenage years fondly as you jump dirt hills hollering in joy. Sneaking off on weekends when victims stopped by to go hangout with your friends a town over. Drinking, smoking weed, listening to rock music and the occasional hook up while horror movies played in the background. You were a real switch up and I mean you still were hiding your wild side from everyone in hopes to keep up with the sweet southern girl aesthetic so you could stay with Tommy. You pull up to the run down house parking your bike before looking over the little river and old farm house in the moonlight. You hoped when you and Tommy got married you two could take over this little home.

You had been working on this house you found for your future with him but you knew you couldn't tell anyone. Especially not with all the shit you were hiding that you either stole from victims or bought with your own cash. The little room with a window AC, TV, and all your precious contraband. Slipping on your band shirt you look over your porn movies trying to see what one you should pop in tonight. Hell you probably just gonna pop in a horror movie instead and just sit back with rock music blaring you were so pissed off. Pulling out your stash of weed from the recent victim Ludae Mae had butchered which had just happened to disappear. You smile, flicking your lighter to your blunt as you feel your worries float away.

Maybe Tommy would still love you even knowing you weren't the perfect girl everyone thought you were. You knew your dads would kill you though. Mostly for the smoking, drinking, and tattoo because they didn't want their little girl ruined. Bo hated the idea of you having sex and you knew it as he refused to give you the sex ED talk yelling at you constantly no boys and to stay pure. Poor Vincent had to hand you sexual education books and repeatedly told you not till marriage. Lester told the twins when he caught a boy flirting with you when he went to pick you up from school. Had to have a big fight about letting you stay in highschool after that one. You let out a puff watching the screen on your bean bag chair as you thought. You always presented yourself as the perfect daughter / future wife. Cooking, cleaning, being polite and helpful.

You even praised God and dressed the way you knew your dad's would be approve. Guess you had plans originally to go out in the big world on your own like a real rockstar and now here you were a boyfriend and pretending to be someone you weren't. You grab a throwing knife next to you, throwing them at the poster on the wall. Everyone else got to go killing doing what they wanted but you were stuck in the kitchen with Ludae Mae. You loved the woman but how would she react to how you were right now. Slumped down in a chair smoking away as you tossed knives with terrifying accuracy while heavy metal blasted in the background. You just didn't want to hurt Tommy. Didn't want him to stop loving you but you couldn't bare this lie anymore.

You hadn't even realized you passed out on the bed by accident till the afternoon sun finally woke you up. All those early mornings to pack Lester's lunch and cook him breakfast caught up to you. What would you do? Tommy usually stopped by in the morning to see you and you were nowhere to be found by anyone. You couldn't show up in last night's dress, you'd be found out as you never wore the same dress two days in a row. You panicked rushing out the room like the devil was on your heels. Throwing on your climbing boots before forgetting you had contraband on you. It would take a hell of a day to explain but maybe you could sneak back in before getting caught. Hell maybe your dad's just thought you were sick or already left. Fuck! It wasn't farmers market day and your truck was still there.

You sped on your dirt bike over the rough Texas terrain hoping you'd be able to explain yourself somehow. Didn't take long to get back but sneaking in was sure gonna be tricky. You hid your beloved bike in its usual spot before army crawling through the long grass. Infiltration was gonna be tough especially if you had everyone searching for you. Being spotted in your outfit now and realizing you still had a hunting knife and blunt on you, it felt like you were fucking Rambo sneaking on to your own property. You made it to the shed not having to fight any snakes in the way. You could hear your father Bo on the porch cussing up a storm to where you could be sending Thomas to find you.

Damnit the Hewitts excuse was compromised and so was the sneaking back into your room. Bo didn't like busting into your room but he would if he thought he needed to. You manage to shift a panel and squeeze into your shed without anyone noticing you entering into the small wooden building. You begin stripping down to your underwear rummaging through the little building for your emergency clothes. You didn't even notice the door opening or closing as a tall silent figure stood in shock at the sight. Thomas stood absolutely still looking at the sight in front of him. He had been in a panic all morning searching for you with Bo and Vincent as they couldn't find you in your room.

You hadn't come down and made breakfast so they thought you were sick as you always wrote notes if you were leaving to town. When Vincent looked though the front window your truck was still there. Maybe you had gone to the Hewitts by foot with Tommy, you had been doing that recently even if they didn't like it. Nope, Tommy showed up with flowers for you like every morning but no you in site. You weren't spotted or heard of from for hours and as a last ditch effort Tommy went up to check the shed you processed and raised your rabbits and chickens in. What did he see when he opened the door. His beloved girlfriend standing in nothing but her undergarments searching through boxes frustrated mumbling with strange outfit next to her.

The boy didn't know what to do but silently stood there breathing as he took in every curve of you. Your soft skin glowing as excitement replaced worry in his body each time you bent over a plump ass practically being shoved in his face. Thomas couldn't stop himself as his curious lustful eyes bathed over your form, taking special notice of the artwork on the side of your ribcage. Tommy didn't know you had a tattoo but something about it aroused him. You never even mentioned it then again he never saw you this undressed. He lumbered over to you gently grabbing your sides to help you reach the top shelf as he pressed his body against yours. This kind gesture was met with a yelp and almost a knife in his face from his beloved.

“ Jesus Christ Tommy I almost took your eye out. You have to knock first before surprising a girl. “ Your heart raced in your chest as you hopped back on the bench trying to push your hunting knife away not realizing how exposed you are. Thomas of course signed to you his complaints. “ We couldn't find you. Where have you been? Why are you so bare? “ Your face warms as a slight embarrassment overwhelms you before a devilish idea crosses your mind. You didn't want to lie to Tommy anymore and if you wanted to take it to the next level you could right now but first was to try covering your ass before your dads found out. “ Well I could tell you the truth but it may ruin my surprise for you. “ You trace your fingers along Tommy's chest as you hook your legs around his waist pulling him in. You could immediately feel his length growing against you straining in his pants as you pulled his face in dangerously close.

Oh you were playing with fire but this was the exact moment you were waiting for. “ Truth? Surprise?” Thomas sloppily signed as you kissed at his face rubbing your hands along his chest making it hard for him to think or question what he's discovered apon. “ Do you love me Thomas Hewitt? “ The giant man shook his head pushing his body further against you on the desk trying to gain more friction. “ Will you love me no matter what my secrets maybe?” Your hands somewhat shake as you lace your hands in his hair whispering into his ear. The man makes an agreeing noise back grabbing your body in close, whining at you to push things further. You desperately want to but you can hear Bo shouting outside getting louder.

You pull Tommy in quick whispering into his ear, exciting him. “ Tell them I was hunting that fox that keeps getting in the coup and I got some blood on my clothes if they question you. Then later me and you can continue this my love. Can you go fetch me new clothes now Tommy? “ You place a big kiss to his face, mumbling you love him before shooing him out the shed before popping your head out to scream at your father. “ Will you stop screaming dad your gonna wake the dead! “ Bo and Vincent run towards the shed as Tommy runs off to fetch you a new outfit. You keep just your head out and refuse to open the door. “ And where have you been young lady! You've been missing since before the sun's been up. “ Bo trys pushing on the door but you fuss at him. “ Unless you wanna see your grown daughter bare as the day I was born you better not open this door. I was out chasing damn foxes in the coups again. “

The pair stop getting flustered before questioning you. “ And why would you not make breakfast and why are you naked in there? You and Thomas better have not been fooling around before marriage. I'm not above putting holes in him. “ Bo practically growls as you stand your ground. “ We were worried. “ Vincent signs. “ I chased that thing pretty far out. I was gonna make breakfast but saw something in the coup again. Then while chasing it I got blood and dirt all over my dress. By the time I came home I fell asleep at my bench and didn't realize I forgot to put my spares back in the shed. “ Vincent seems worried at the falling asleep portion of the story but Bo is standing his ground at the fact he just saw Thomas run outta the shed like his ass was on fire.

“ And what about that boy running out of this shed like the devil was on his tail. He didn't see you naked did he? You two weren't fooling around were you. “ You whistle to yourself as Bo gets angry before you push on the door again stopping him from entering. “ Not like I wanted to get seen in the nude before my wedding night. Someone was screaming at him to find me and we'll he busted in while I was trying to find my spares so for your information dad my dear boyfriend did see me in my bra and panties but I don't think gods gonna smite us for an accident. “ Bo is seeing red as his face heats up as Vincent as well he is getting flustered and angry.

Before the two run off to skewer poor Tommy your lovely boyfriend shows up flustered as can be trying to pass a sundress to you. The two fathers glare him down, yanking it from him before they hand it to you as you shimmy into it before opening the door confidently. You smack Bo and Vincent in their sides as you walk off into the house. “ Would you two stop trying to murder my boyfriend? There's only one way Luda Mae is getting grandchildren and it ain't gonna be no stork. I've cleaned enough of your porn mags up to know you two aren't saints dads. “ The two look away embarrassed to be so confidently called out in their perverted nature by their precious daughter.

“ We can't help, we want to keep you as our little girl forever. “ Vincent signs following you into the kitchen as you prepare lunch. “ I'm 25 dad. I'm a healthy woman with working reproductive systems. Y'all may not wanna hear it but when a man and a woman love eachother very mu-” Vincent throws his hands up covering your mouth as you continue on your rant while Bo plugs his ears and Thomas looks away in embarrassment. “ You know what, me and Tommy are going on a much needed date alone tonight and I'm not hearing protest from no one. I can't marry him if I never get alone time with him and I deserve personal space without my father's being in it. “ Bo gets up to demand to be able to spy on you to but you wave a kitchen knife in his face.

“ I said I'm going on my date! I am your daughter, I got your temper and you know it. Now unless you wanna be cooking your own meals and cleaning for a month.” Bo freezes in his place, he knew damn well you would do it. He and his brothers have been pampered since their little girl took up cooking and even doing the daily chores without complaint. It could be worse because Bo remembers when you were a teenager and you two got into a nasty fight and he was still eating stuff in the fridge you cooked for Lester and Vincent after saying you weren't cooking for him. You had set a decoy out for him and put laxatives in the pie you made and he spent the whole day praying to the porcelain throne. Bo stiffens up before huffing out a fine and taking his plate of food from you. “ You didn't put any laxatives in this to prove a point. “

Bo says as he stands in the door of the kitchen thinking of a way to spy on you. “ Don't give me any reason to. “ The man stiffens before sauntering off to go scheme while Vincent nervously eats his plate with Thomas and you at the table. After you finish cleaning the dishes from lunch and getting dinner ready for the oven you pull Thomas in close knowing damn well Vincent and Bo weren't gonna let you off the hook that easily. “ Tommy honey I need you to go outside to the shed and get my things, take them to the truck and get inside. I'll be out shortly. “ Thomas signs to you where Vincent couldn't possibly see. ‘ What will you do? ‘ You kiss the man on the face before sending him off on his task just answering him back with a smile.

You knew Bo called Hoyt earlier to talk about your date and that even if you tried to get privacy they would still follow you. There was only one place in Travis county where neither family could interfere easily and you knew it. May be hard to get Tommy and you out there at this rate but if you played it smart you could buy you some time. You were able to snag Bo’s keys while cleaning and I mean kicking his keys under the couch wasn't so hard since you usually kept them up on the key rack since your father's except for Lester couldn't be bothered to keep track. Speaking of which you called Lester earlier to see when he'd be home so you had a small window to get the hell out of Dodge. As you were doing your finishing touches Bo stopped you as you stood by the towel closet.

“ Did you really chase an animal out the coup again this morning? I went out to check and all your creatures look fine to me. ‘cept some digging at the bottom “ You freeze knowing that this could be the moment you get caught with your scheming and double life but you think for a moment before answering your beloved father. “ I'd have no other reason to be running out in the crack of dawn in the dark unless you're saying I'm chasing shadows. Maybe if we got a guard dog like I wanted I wouldn't be passing out in the shed exhausted from chasing pests. “ Bo sighs, patting your head before straightening out his back. “ We got Jonesy, she's a guard dog. “ You laugh at your father's mentioning of Lester's beloved pooch. “ Dad, pretty sure Jonesey counts more as a sausage link then a livestock dog. “

The rough man lets out a genuine chuckle as he shakes his head in agreement. “ Yeah probably should tell Vincent and Lester to stop feeding her table scraps. “ You give a raised eyebrow as he sighs. “ We all should stop giving her table scraps. “ You smile as you laugh with your father before trying to sneak away. “ Hey. Don't go making me grandfather just yet. I was barely ready to be your father.” You smile to Bo before telling him you weren't and that you were going to finish a chore before heading out. Your plan was in motion as you ran off the porch practically jumping through the trucks window to start it before your fathers could follow or protest. Speeding out the drive way as you catch Vincent running to the porch to spot your truck hauling ass off to who knows where.

The twins knew you were going on a date and they figured it would be at the house but now that your car was hauling away in your truck the pair got immediately upset. That Hewitt boy alone with their daughter without the families around only spelt something mischievous going on for the boys. Immediately Bo was yelling for Vincent's to get the keys only to find they weren't on the key rack. None of the pair's keys were Vincent pieces together exactly what their sneaky daughter had been doing earlier when she went to clean up before leaving. Bo runs to his room to grab his gun. He was pissed but what did he find when he opened his gun case. No fucking gun that was sure. Your sneaky ass had hid all the guns in the house and the keys. “ That little shit swindled all our shit from under our noses. I'm fucking calling Hoyt to stop em. “

You laughed loudly as you headed down the dirt road towards your destination. “ Tommy I know this may be hard to believe but I haven't always been the beacon of innocence y'all may think I am and if we're gonna take our relationship further I think at least you get to see the real me. “ The man tilts his head. ‘ I love you. Just you. ‘ You smile to him as you make note of the beat up cop car chasing behind you. “ Hey Tommy Hun you don't happen to like rock music do you? “ Thomas shakes his head in confusion. ‘ Haven't listened before. Mama doesn't like. ‘ This causes you to chuckle. “ Well there's two secrets of mine you can know. Hold on darlin I gotta get Hoyt off our tail. “ Tommy panics at this as his anxiety creeps in with the rock music now blaring on the stereo.

You look for an opening in the fencing along the road before you spot one and take off into the dried out landscape around you. The house you hung out at the road was overgrown anyway so taking a little short cut won't hurt. Thomas grabs onto the door handle for dear life as the car starts rattling on the rough terrain rock music blaring in the background as you outrun Hoyts dinky cop car before it inevitably gets stuck on the rough terrain. “ Well that should buy us the night. Wonder how long it will take them to find their car keys under the couch..” Thomas looks at you bewildered, mumbling out noises in protest but you look at him smiling and he can't bring himself to continue. It doesn't take you long to finally make it to your hideout.

Taking measures to hide the truck in the old garage just in case they find their keys early or Lester gets back. ‘ We're in trouble. ‘ Tommy signs as you open up his side of the truck for him as he frowns at you. “ Probably but sometimes you have to stir up trouble to get what you want. “ You try to saunter off but your masked boyfriend picks you up, trapping you. ‘ go back now. ‘ You frown at this statement from him there was no way you were going home now. You didn't care how much trouble you were in. You had been good for far too long doing what everyone said it was time for you to be selfish. “ I'm not going back Tommy. I came here to get alone time with you. “ The man freezes contemplating what he should do before you start rubbing on his shoulders like earlier in the shed.

Soft doe like eyes pleading with him to stay as he tries to remain firm on his stance of going back but the minute your warm hand touches his cheek fiddling with his hair it was all over. He let's out a sigh as he gives in to your demands and you explode with glee peppering him with kisses and telling him how much you loved him. Thomas couldn't say no to his future wife. He wasn't used to being so openly loved and cared for and you were never afraid to tell him how you felt or to give him such affection. You were his angel on earth and if his angel was leading him into trouble he'd gladly follow. The Texas heat was still very much in the air as the evening sun still hung in the sky. You showed Tommy around the property you had been working on excitedly telling him about the coup and the rooms how you were excited for your future with him.

The boy felt like he was walking on air as he could imagine a life with you while you ran around the building showing him everything. Thomas may not have looked it but he to was getting fed up with the family's needs to butt in. Those strange magazines in his room gave him many wicked ideas and it was getting harder for him to keep his hands off you every time you peppered kisses to his face or hands lingered a little to long on his chest. You finally got out to the little lake running down the porch steps to show him excitedly. The man smiled as he looked at you showing him it before you got the most wicked idea. Before the man could figure out what you were doing you were throwing your shoes off and tossing your sundress to the side. Running down the old boat dock telling Tommy to catch you before you jumped in just in your underwear and bra.

The man stood there whining and fussing at the edge of the dock as he tried to grab you but you just splashed him in retaliation. “ Come on honey the water is nice and cold. If you can't swim the water over here isn't too deep. “ The man takes another try to grab you but you duck under the water swimming away before floating on your back to tease him with your scantily clad form. It takes awhile of coaxing and praise but Thomas finally strips down to his boxers and wades his way in the water so you can take off his mask for him. He's very hesitant about you doing that for him but it wasn't the first time you've taken his mask off. Usually you do it to wipe his face and get him embarrassed but right now all you wanted to do was sit in the cold water with your lover telling him how handsome he was.

Mask off and nothing but the thinnest layer of clothes separating you two as Tommy refuses to let go of your wet form. Gentle kisses and praise flow from your mouth as you just can't stop grabbing at him, whining and noises of content come from your strong lover as it's just you two loving on each other under the Texas sky in the cold body of water. You swear you haven't had a moment alone with each other since the day he asked you to be his girlfriend but now that you finally did get alone time you both would gladly get into trouble again to have it. You tried to teach Tommy how to swim a bit but all you could accomplish tonight was teaching him how to float on his back, you couldn't stop laughing at his red face each time he'd float up with his body exposed trying to cover himself.

By the time the sun started to set you were sneezing up a storm from your little adventure in the water. Thomas sprinted out of the water dragging you along with him in his arms, completely forgetting your clothes behind in the grass as your sneezes concerned him. You were small compared to him. He was scared you were sick from the cold water so he was trying to strip you of your wet clothes and warm you up with a towel in the abandoned house. By the time his worry washed away and the realization hit him what he was doing you were under Tommy in just a towel with his body hovering over you in his boxers. He trys to shoot backwards but you hook your legs and arms around him pulling him in so he can't escape. “ I never told you to stop Tommy. I'm okay with it. Why don't we continue if you want to darlin. “ His breathe hitches before he's nervously crawling further on top of you so scared of what to do next but definitely wanting to continue forward as he presses his face into yours eyes begging for you.

You gently laugh grabbing his face into a gentle kiss which Tommy greedily pushes further into excitement and eagerness growing. You were always so gentle and loving with him your kisses were like honey and he was desperately trying to to taste more. Your hands lace into his damp hair trying to push back to catch a breath but he just kept pushing forward eagerly. You have to completely turn your head to the side to get away to catch your breath leaving a excited Tommy leaning against you whining his member straining in his soaked boxers. “ Honey it's not fair if I'm the only one naked here. “ He instantly gets the message and anxiously goes to pull off his soaked boxers sitting on the bed his hard member exposed to the air precum already dribbling at his red tip.

You gently place your hands on his chest getting your lover to lie back for you as your hand finds its way to his cock. Tommy jumps a bit when he feels your hand wrap around his girth anxiety and excitement mixing. His cock wasn't the lengthiest you've ever seen but my god was it as thick as the rest of him and ready to destroy you if you weren't careful so even if you were excited to get to the main course a warm up was in store. “ Why don't we get warmed up sweetheart. I know you're excited for your first time but if I'm not prepped you may hurt me. “ You flip around to straddle yourself above Tommy's mouth his glazed over eyes staring at your soaking cunt as you feel his breathe eagerly fan over your folds. “ Why don't you use your tongue Tommy and get me ready for you while I take care of you Hun. “

Thomas paused for a minute taking in the sight of your sex before his hands found either side of your ass gripping you tight as he dived right in like a man starved. You yelp at the base of his cock as Tommy leaned himself against the wall dragging you with him as he crudely propped you up so he had better access. His cock throbbed against the side of your cheek as your face was buried in his wild mess of hair around his member by the sudden movement. Your nose filled with his musky and electricity tingled your core as Tommy went at you like a beast, you couldn't help letting out a moan. Propping yourself up the best you could, you kissed along his length mapping his cock with your lips before dragging your tongue from the base to his tip.

As soon as your tongue lapped across his tip Tommy was growling into your cunt hands gripping harder pushing his tongue deeper into exploring your core. Getting your mouth completely around his member was a challenge as you had to fight against Tommy wildly bucking his hips up into your mouth while trying to adjust your throat to his thickness, almost gagging in the process. Eventually you find a rhythm of keeping yourself breathing and not gagging as Thomas practically face fucked you while devouring your cunt until you came on his face repeatedly. You couldn't fight back as you saw stars as Tommy relentlessly licked and sucked at your folds hunting for every last drop of your fluids he could get before he shot thick ropes of cum into your throat like you were nothing but a doll.

Pulling away for air you sucked in as much as you could get pulling yourself from a pussy drunk Tommy. “ Aw you released it all down my throat. Guess we will have to wait for round two Hun. “ Thomas grabs your legs pulling you roughly under him again placing wet sloppy kisses to your face as a low growl comes from his throat and you watch his cock harden again quickly. A laugh escapes your lips as you place a kiss to your lover instantly softening the man's demeanor from intimidating man to whining mess. “ Don't worry Tommy we can go round two. So eager.” You put a long kiss on his cheek. “ So cute. “ You pull out a pack of condoms from under the bed thankful you were smart enough to stash a bunch anywhere you thought sexual activities may occur.

‘ what's that?’ Tommy signs laying beside you playing with your tits as you figure out which condom size would be most comfortable for your lover before deciding a large may just be able to handle his girth. “ It's called a condom Tommy prevents babies before marriage. “ You let Tommy look at the box and open one of them looking at it fiddling with it before his body jolts when you slide one on him. Giving him a few strokes and pouring a hefty amount of lube on you straddle above Tommy preparing to slide yourself on his cock praying that you can walk after this. You sink down slowly feeling yourself stretch around his length as Tommy whines into your shoulder wanting to jerk upwards into you but you growl into his ear.

“ Be a good boy and be patient. I only reward obedient boys. “ Hips colliding with Tommy's you feel his cock fill you completely stretching you to the most you've ever had you kiss at your lovers face telling him how good he feels and how good he is for you. You start bouncing on his cock slowly amping up the speed but you feel Tommys cock thumping inside you as he grunts holding your thighs down as he cums. Thank goodness you had him service you before getting to the main event or you'd be a heavily disappointed woman. You let out a sigh preparing to pull yourself off for the night and just work with your boyfriend later about cumming to quickly but Thomas grabs your hips forcing you down.

He grunts into your ear bucking up into your core making you let out a moan. Tommy takes this as a sign of encouragement and starts ruthlessly bouncing you on his cock lifting your hips up and slamming you back down like you weighed nothing as he grunted and groaned into your shoulder loosing himself in the pleasure. All you could do was moan and desperately cling into his shoulders as he stretches you with out mercy moans and grunts filling the room as erotic squelching noises can be heard from your sexes meeting. Your pussy slickening his cock with your juices as you eventually come undo on his cock before Thomas is pushing you down on the mattress with his full weight pressing his cock in deep into your core. He falls over onto you sweaty bodies clinging together after a such a carnal release.

You look outside to see the sky is dark and the stars are up. “ If we don't get home soon we will really be in trouble.” You try prying Tommy off of you but he grunts in response refusing to let you go. ‘ No ‘ You sigh as you grab his hand, closing it into a fist and forcing him to sign yes which he grunts to. “ Yes. Tommy I know neither of us wanna go to bed alone tonight but my dad's gonna dish a punishment out on me either way and Luda Mae may kill me. “ He lifts his head, staring at you for a second before signing no again and rolling over with you tucked into his chest. A content hum came from him as he placed a soft kiss on your head rubbing your shoulders with his rough calloused hands. You stay like this for a while deciding that if you were to get in trouble that Tommy would keep you safe no matter what if need be.

Eventually you convince the man that it was best to head back just to not cause panic for the old woman who always rooted for your relationship as you had called her earlier in the day to vent your problems of never getting alone time with Tommy. You were able to convince her that it would be good for your young relationship to be able to have alone time together she was the one who sent Hoyt out in his car to go get stuck. With reluctance and a lot of kisses and promises of future perverted endeavors you headed back to home. Though you can't really walk that well with a bow legged stance and limp. Still walking on cloud nine you decide it will be best to have Tommy finally figure out how to drive.

“ That will be our story, we will stick with it. Now that we're on the main road it will be easier.” You kick back in the passenger seat motioning for Thomas to start the car which he anxiously starts up. It took a while to get back but when you finally pulled into the driveway with Thomas anxiously stepping out the car Luda Mae sat on the porch with Vincent as Hoyt and Bo sat besides the pair playing cards. “ There's our eloping love birds. Did you two assholes know it's sundown?” Bo said standing firm as Thomas helped you out the car motioning to the starry sky Hoyt following behind him. “ It took us till Lester got home to get my cop car out the damn ditch what were y'all thinking. “ The pair come to circle around you but Thomas blocks you with his body being extra protective. “ We went house hunting, did some swimming, and I taught Tommy how to drive so that's what took us the most time. “

“ House hunting? “ Luda Mae says standing up from the porch swing were her and Vincent were crocheting. “ Well yes. We wanted to find a house between the two families for when we start our own family. Extra big so all the grandbabies. Sadly the one house was off the roads so we had to off road to get to it. Didn't know we were being followed. “ The men turn to each other trying to make a come back while Luda Mae eyes them down. “ Well you hid our keys and guns young lady don't think you can talk yourself out of that one. “ You raised your eyebrow to the man smiling at your father as you were good at lieing your way outta things. “ Hide your keys? You mean I didn't pick your keys up didn't have time to I was prepping dinner for you. And your gun I did hide because you threatened to put a hole in Tommy for accidentally seeing me in my underwear earlier. I was scared you'd actually do it. “

Luda Mae smacks both the mens arms as Bo glares at you not knowing if you were lying or not. “ If you didn't hide them then were are they! And where is my gun? “ You walk past your father smiling up to him knowing he couldn't do much punishing with no proof. “ Guns in the towel closet up stairs and your keys last saw them on the table so Jonesey may have knocked them under the couch with her tail again. “ Bo turns around following you inside as you motion towards the couch. Vincent signing to you while Bo and Hoyt have Tommy help them move the couch. ‘ I’m upset with you still. I know you hid the keys and planned the car getting stuck. Why?’ You turn to your father both of your hands signing fast as you to have a conversation between you. You and Vincent were always close while you and Bo butt heads Vincent could keep secrets Lester couldn't.

“I’m an adult. I feel like you three are smothering me sometimes. Like if I try spreading my wings or change I'll hurt you. “ Vincent shakes his head signing back as the three men fish the things out from under the couch. ‘ I know about the rock music and biking. What is it I don't know. This isn't fair we share secrets. You are an adult but you're still my child.’ You huff, shaking your head as you pull Vincent around so Bo can't see what you're saying. “ I love you, but I love Thomas too. I love him so much I want to be with him. I can't be his wife if I can't be alone with him. I deserve to be happy and be loved to.“ Vincent sighs, shaking his head in agreement reluctantly before pulling you in for a hug patting your back. He didn't like having to give his little girl away but Thomas wasn't a bad man to give you to. Bo lifts his keys up laughing with Hoyt as they turn to you and Vincent.

“ Tch. Fine I guess we can finally give her what we sent Lester to get earlier. “ Bo comes over patting your head as you surprise him, pulling him into the hug to which he let's out a grunt. Bo pulls you in ruffling your hair and placing a kiss to your head as he holds you real close. “ Next time don't be a little shit when we're tryna be nice. I know your our kid but you ain't gotta act so much like me. “ With this Lester finally comes into the room with Jonesy holding a small pup in his arms. “ We know you kept asking for one for your critters. Got this little girl for you don't know how good she'll be but here yah go baby girl. “ The rest of the night was spent playing with you and Thomas's new pup as you tried to figure a name out while dodging prodding questions and perverted jabs from Hoyt and Luda Mae. The puppy may not have been a child but you to were sure you weren't gonna have trouble in the future making some.

If you enjoy and want more Sinclair Daughter fics let me know. Requests are also open for fanfic ideas I write for slashers and horror villains.

#house of wax #texas chainsaw massacre #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #sinclair daughter #Bo sinclair #Vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #x reader

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wholoveseggs · 6 months

Text

Crimson Frost {Part Two}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Two

After the raid on your village you are separated from your little sister and your betrothed Niklaus, not knowing if they are alive or dead. Holed up in a hut with Elijah during a raging snowstorm, you train and prepare to hunt down the Blackthornes. Meanwhile, Niklaus, Kol and Rebekah have found safe haven in a nearby village, the leader Ansel provides all he can.

♡♡ Sorry for the wait on this one! ♡♡

5.5k words - Warnings: Viking AU where the Mikaelsons are completely human (no magic, werewolves, vampires... etc) lots of death and violence, sprinkle of norse mythology... a little bit of smut in this part but I won't spoil who.

{Part One} {Part Three} {Part Four} {Part Five}

You woke to the sound of wind howling and the creaking of the roof beams, it was still dark and the fire had burned low, the chill was already creeping in.

You got up and went over to the window, looking out onto the white landscape, the snow was coming down fast, and you could barely see the tree line.

"Elijah," you nudged him awake, "the storm, it's bad."

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching, "We won't be able to travel today." He said, moving to stoke the fire, "I'll go out and get more wood. We'll need it if we want to make it through the day."

He got dressed and grabbed his ax, "Stay here, I won't be long."

"I can help, we need food as well," you offered, grabbing your coat and boots.

"No, it's too dangerous, you could get lost, or worse," Elijah said.

"I'll be fine, I can handle myself," you argued, the memory of Einar's attack still fresh in your mind.

"It's not just about the danger, there's also the wolves, they'll be out hunting," Elijah explained, his tone serious.

"I am not a child anymore Elijah, you cannot boss me around, I can hunt and fight as well as any man," you huffed, crossing your arms.

"I know, I saw the way you fought off those raiders. You are a true warrior, worthy of the gods," Elijah smiled, his eyes shining with admiration.

"I'm also good at hunting rabbits," you said with a smile, picking up a old bow that was leaning against the wall.

Elijah sighed, you were stubborn like Niklaus, and he knew there was no point in arguing.

"Alright, but stay close, and keep an eye out for wolves, they're more cunning than you think," he warned.

"I can handle wolves," you smirked.

You bundled up and followed Elijah outside, the cold air nipping at your skin. You didn't go far before you found deer prints in the snow, they were fresh, and the tracks were deep.

"We're in luck, there's a herd nearby," Elijah whispered, "keep your bow ready, we'll try and take one down."

You nodded, following Elijah's lead. You stalked through the forest, your footsteps silent.

You saw a large stag ahead, his antlers standing tall and proud. He was beautiful and a part of you wished to leave it be, but you knew you had to feed the both of you.

Elijah made the signal and you let your arrow fly, it hit the stag in the neck, and he went down, the herd scattering.

The two of you spent the better part of the day tracking down and killing a couple of does and a few rabbits. It was hard work, but the thrill of the hunt and the success of a good kill made it worth it.

The snow was still falling, and you could see the storm was only getting worse. The game you hunted would last you a good while and you set to work preparing it, hanging the meat and skinning the hides.

Elijah worked beside you, helping you cut and dry the meat, his hands steady and sure. You were both silent, lost in your thoughts. You always wondered about Niklaus' mysterious older brother, the rest of the Mikaelson siblings you had grown up with, with the exception of Finn, who had always kept to himself. But Elijah was the enigma of the family. He was quiet and reserved, but there was a strength and determination in him, you could see it in his eyes.

You wondered why he had never married, why he was still alone. He was handsome and strong, any woman would be lucky to have him.

"Why haven't you taken a wife?" You blurted out, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

Elijah looked up, a small smile on his face, "Is that a question you ask everyone, or is it just me?"

You felt your face heat up, and you ducked your head, embarrassed, "Forgive me, I did not mean to offend."

"It's quite alright," Elijah chuckled, "I never found the right person, I suppose."

"You are a good man, any woman would be lucky to have you," you smiled, turning back to the venison you were cutting.

"Thank you, but I fear I am too boring for most women," Elijah laughed, his tone light and playful.

"Oh, I don't know about that, you seem quite interesting to me," you teased, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

"I am honored to have such a high opinion from you," Elijah smirked, his eyes shining with mischief.

You both finished the venison, and you hung the hides to dry, the sun was setting and the temperature was dropping.

"We should go inside, the storm is getting worse," Elijah said, his brow furrowed in concern. "I worry our lovely horse may be a bit difficult to dig out in the morning."

You laughed and shook your head, "I'm sure she'll be just fine. She's a tough one."

The two of you walked back to the cabin, the wind whipping around you, the snow stinging your skin, you were freezing.

You hurried inside and started the fire, the warmth slowly returning to the small space. The wind was really howling outside, the trees swaying wildly, the sound of almost deafening.

"Do you think the others made it? Where would they have gone," you asked, unable to stop your mind from wandering.

"They'll be alright, they're smart and strong," Elijah reassured you, "they've probably made it to the neighboring village, the leader there knows my mother," he added, his voice quiet.

You could hear the worry in his voice, the unspoken fears, his siblings, your sister, were they safe, were they alive?

The two of you settled in for the night, the storm showing no signs of slowing. You huddled close to the fire, the blankets wrapped tightly around you, trying to keep warm. The cold had seeped into your bones, and Elijah noticed the way you trembled.

"Come here," he said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close, his body pressed against yours.

You were stiff and hesitant, but the warmth of his body and the comfort of his embrace made you relax, the tension slowly melting away.

"It's not proper, us being this close," you whispered, your cheeks flushing.

"I'm not the one who has to worry about being proper," he joked, his breath tickling your ear, "besides, we're not doing anything wrong, just sharing our body heat,"

You giggled, his words easing your nerves, "I suppose you're right,"

The two of you sat like that for a while, the fire crackling and the wind howling, the sounds of the storm filling the room.

"When this storm breaks we should make for the coast," Elijah said, breaking the silence, his hand causally rubbing your arm, the heat of his touch causing strange sensations within you.

"Why not the village? Where the rest could be?" You asked, looking up at him, his face illuminated by the fire.

"The Blackthornes will take their thralls to the coast, to ship them off and sell them. They're brutal, but smart, they'll want to get rid of them as quickly as possible, before word gets out," Elijah explained, his voice grim.

"Gerda.. She's just a child," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes, the thought of your baby sister being sold like cattle making you sick.

"Henrik will protect her the best he can, he has a warriors heart," Elijah said, his voice cracking a bit at the thought of his baby brother. He was only ten summers and had barely learned to fight.

You nodded, the tears flowing freely now, "I- I can't lose them. I can't lose her,"

Elijah pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, his hands stroking your hair, "We'll find them, we'll save them. I swear it on the gods."

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other's embrace, the warmth of the fire and the closeness of his body providing a small measure of comfort. You feared that maybe you were the only two left alive, that everyone else had perished in the raid.

"What if we don't find them, what if we're too late," you whispered, your voice shaking, the weight of the situation weighing heavily on you.

"Then we will avenge them," Elijah said, his tone solemn, "we will make those bastards pay for what they've done."

You nodded, staring into the flames, the drums of war beating in your mind. You would fight until the last drop of blood, for your people, for your family.

In the following weeks Elijah took it upon himself to train you to fight.

The two of you trained every day, honing your skills and pushing each other to the limits.

Elijah was a relentless and patient teacher, never letting up, always demanding more. And you were a willing student, eager to learn, and determined to become stronger, faster, better.

You spent countless hours sparring, practicing defense, you had an affinity for wielding two axes, the blades swift and deadly in your hands.

The two of you were well suited as a fighting duo, your strengths complimenting each other, your weaknesses covering for the other.

"Keep your arms up, higher, good," Elijah encouraged as the two of you went through a series of drills, "now, again,"

The two of you circled each other, your axes ready. You lunged, swinging the axe, the blade narrowly missing Elijah's chest. He smiled and brought his shield up, blocking the blow, the sound of metal on wood echoing through the clearing.

"Better," he said, "you're quick, and you have the element of surprise on your side, but you must remember, no matter how good you are, there will always be someone better."

"Like you?" you smirked.

"Maybe a little," Elijah chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

He stepped forward and swung his axe, the blade singing through the air, you ducked and rolled, coming up behind him to strike him. But he was faster, he flipped you on your back, the blade of his axe pressed against your throat, "Never underestimate your opponent,"

You looked up at him, his eyes locked on yours, his face flushed from the exercise, his breath hot against your skin, "I understand," you whispered, your pulse racing.

You thought about what his lips would feel like against yours, his body pressing you into the soft ground. You had to admit you had become more than attracted to him, he was strong, brave, and smart, he had a way of drawing you in, you had never quite experienced it before, not even with Niklaus.

You wondered if he felt the same, if he ever thought of you, of what it would be like to kiss you, to touch you.

"Do you?," he asked, his voice low and husky.

You swallowed hard, the blade still pressed against your neck, "Yes, I do,"

"Good," he said, his voice a whisper, his eyes full of desire.

He stood and held out his hand, helping you to your feet. You both stood there for a moment, your bodies dangerously close, the tension between you growing thick.

You wanted him, and you could tell he wanted you too. But it was wrong, you were supposed to be his sister-in-law, it was forbidden, taboo.

You were still a maiden, promised to Niklaus. But you knew deep down you did not love him, not like Elijah. You didn't know why the gods cursed you with such feelings, with such a longing for the brother of the man you were promised to.

"Elijah, I-" You started, your voice shaky, the words dying on your tongue.

"Let's go inside, the air is too cold," Elijah said, his voice gentle.

"Y-yes," you nodded, following him inside.

Your heart was racing, your mind a mess, you couldn't believe the things you were feeling, the desires you had. It went against everything you had been taught, it was sinful, it was wrong.

And yet, you could not deny it. You were drawn to him, you longed for his touch, his kiss, his body pressed against yours. You wanted to do things with him that husband and wife do, forbidden things.

But the gods were watching, and they did not take kindly to those who disobeyed their laws. You could not give in to your desires, you had to remain strong, pure, chaste.

Still, you wondered if the gods had a plan for the two of you, if maybe they had destined you to be together. Maybe the gods wanted you to be happy, to have true love in your life.

You watched Elijah stoke the fire, cooking a rabbit over the flames, the scent of it making your stomach growl. You sat on the floor, your knees pulled to your chest, the blanket wrapped tightly around you, a barrier between the two of you.

"How did you know about this place?" You asked, referring to the cabin.

"My brothers and I built it years ago," he said, "We came here to get away, to have some time to ourselves. We would camp and hunt, it was our escape from... the pressures of being a son of a jarl," he added, a wistful smile on his face.

"I heard that Mikael could be a difficult man," you said, knowing that was an understatement.

Elijah didn't say anything, just handed you a piece of the cooked rabbit, his hand brushing against yours. You ate in silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound.

"He could be... cruel," Elijah said, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes distant, like he was lost in a memory, "there are secrets in my family, things that no one speaks of,"

"Secrets?" You asked, your curiosity piqued.

"Things I cannot talk about," he said, his jaw set, his gaze dark.

You didn't want to press the matter, whatever the secrets were, they were clearly painful for him, you didn't want to force him to relive them.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, reaching out and placing your hand on his.

He looked at you, his expression softening, a sad smile playing on his lips, "It's okay, it's in the past now. What matters is the future, what we do to honor the ones we lost, to protect those who are still with us."

You nodded, his words resonating deep within you, "You're right, we must not dwell on the past, we must focus on the future, on those we love,"

Elijah smiled, his hand squeezing yours, "Yes, the future is all that matters,"

The two of you finished your meal, the silence no longer tense, but comfortable. You helped him clean up and prepare the space for the night, the storm finally letting up.

You got ready for bed, washing yourself in the basin and slipping into a simple linen tunic.

Elijah did the same, and you could not help but admire his body, his lean muscles, his skin smooth and tanned from the sun. You usually looked away, to give him privacy like he did for you, but you were drawn to him, your eyes taking in every inch of him.

He caught you looking and you quickly turned away, your face burning. He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that made your heart flutter.

"Sorry, I was just-" you mumbled, embarrassed.

"Goodnight, y/n. Come dawn we will start tracking the Blackthornes," he said, the playfulness in his voice gone, replaced by the hardened resolve of a warrior.

"Goodnight, Elijah," you replied, curling up on the pallet, the warmth of the fire lulling you to sleep.

The smell of herbs and spices filled the air as Tatia mixed some in a bowl, the healer humming quietly to herself. The young woman was a skilled healer and well-respected in her village.

"There, this should help ease your pain," Tatia smiled at Rebekah, handing her the bowl, the liquid inside warm and soothing.

"Thank you," Rebekah smiled weakly, bringing the bowl to her lips. She winced as she drank, the scar on her face throbbing with pain.

"Careful now," Tatia said softly, "that elixir is strong. You'll want to go slow and make sure you're keeping it down,"

Rebekah nodded and drank slower, the warmth of the brew filling her body and dulling the pain.

Niklaus sat beside Kol, who was sleeping on a cot in the healer's hut, his body bruised and battered from the fight with the Blackthorne raiders. Tatia's eyes met Niklaus', he couldn't help but feel a tingle of warmth spread across his body as he watched the healer's eyes linger on his, there was something about the way she looked at him that made him feel seen, appreciated, as if she could see his pain and anger.

Tatia smiled gently and reached out to touch Niklaus' hand, the simple gesture making his breath catch in his throat, "you have the strength of Odin," she whispered, her voice like a song, "you saved them both from those brutes,"

Niklaus looked up at the woman, her face beautiful, her eyes kind and understanding.

"I-" Niklaus stammered, "I had to, they are my family." He had never felt so at a loss for words before, and he struggled to find the words to describe the pain he was feeling.

"Let me take a look at you," Tatia said gently, "you look like you could use a healing touch yourself,"

Niklaus hesitated, still overwhelmed by the woman's closeness and the connection he felt. Tatia sensed his unease and took his hand, her skin warm against his. "You must be at your full strength for the war to come." She smiled at him and he found himself smiling back, despite the ache in his body.

Tatia motioned for Niklaus to lay down, she pulled up his tunic, taking a look at the wound on his side, the flesh raw and bruised, "It's not too bad," she said softly, her hands gentle as they cleaned and bandaged the wound, "it will become just another scar for you to boast to your wife about," she teased. Niklaus couldn't help but chuckle at her words, a feeling of warmth spreading through him at her touch.

He felt a wave of guilt at the thought of you, his future wife. He wondered how you were doing, if you were safe, if he would ever see you again. Tatia must have sensed his worry, she looked up at him, her eyes soft. "She is strong and fierce, and I am certain she will come back to you,"

Niklaus swallowed hard, his throat thick with emotion. He prayed that Elijah had saved you, that the two of you were somewhere safe, weathering the storm together.

He sighed and nodded, "I know, but it doesn't stop the worry and pain from eating away at me."

"I understand," Tatia said, her fingers tracing along Niklaus' jaw, her touch sending a jolt of warmth through his body, "the bond of family is strong and often the most painful."

Tatia continued her work, cleaning and tending to Niklaus' wounds, the gentle touch of her hands making him feel safe and protected.

"You should speak to our leader, Ansel, when you're feeling better," Tatia said after she finished, "I know he will be interested in meeting you. He will want to hear your story and your plans."

Niklaus nodded, he couldn't help but notice how the young healer's eyes lingered on him as she spoke. "I will, thank you Tatia, you have been more than kind," he said.

"Of course," Tatia said, giving Niklaus one last smile, "you're a special guest here. I knew your mother quite well,"

Tatia's words took Niklaus by surprise, "You did?"

"Aye," Tatia nodded, suddenly avoiding Niklaus gaze, she stood and went to check on Rebekah who had fallen asleep in a chair, the pain of the healing draught helping her rest.

Niklaus stared at her for a moment, wanting to ask more, but deciding to let it go. The young healer was right, he was here on important business, he couldn't afford to let his emotions get in the way. He had to be focused and clear-headed if he was to get his revenge on the Blackthornes. He would need the support of Ansel and his men if he were to succeed.

Kol began to stir, he slowly opened his eyes, groaning with pain as he tried to sit up.

"Careful, Kol," Tatia said softly, placing her hand gently on Kol's arm, "you need to rest,"

"What happened?" Kol said, his voice raspy, he looked around the room, his gaze falling on Rebekah, who was asleep on the chair near the fire, "where Niklaus?"

"I'm here, little brother," Niklaus said, coming to sit by the edge of the bed, "how do you feel?"

"I've been better," Kol chuckled weakly, "I feel like a herd of wild boars trampled over me," he shifted in the bed and winced, Tatia moved quickly to help him get comfortable, the young man gritting his teeth through the pain.

"Try not to move too much, Kol," Tatia said softly, her gaze lingering on him, "your wounds are still fresh."

"Aye," Kol breathed out, the young man's face pale and covered in a sheen of sweat, his brow furrowed in pain, "how long have I been out?"

"Two days," Niklaus said, his voice low, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he thought of you, his future bride. He wondered where you were, if you were safe, if Elijah had found you.

"Where is y/n? Elijah?" Kol asked, his voice strained, his eyes filled with worry.

"I don't know," Niklaus said, his voice hoarse, his throat thick with emotion. He swallowed hard and rubbed his temples, the pain of his injuries and his worry for you, his brother, and sister, weighing heavy on him.

Tatia placed a cool cloth on Kol's head, her touch gentle, soothing, "have faith," she whispered, "the gods have not forsaken them."

"Aye," Niklaus said, his gaze fixed on the flames of the hearth, "I must go speak with Ansel,"

Tatia nodded and Niklaus stood, his body aching, his heart heavy. He walked out into the village, the storm having passed, the skies clear and blue.

The villagers were busy repairing their homes, patching roofs and fixing doors, the sounds of axes chopping wood and the shouts of men filling the air. He headed towards the longhouse, his heart racing, he felt a knot in his stomach as he thought of what he was about to do.

He took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy wooden door, the familiar smells of the hall greeting him, ale, meat, and smoke. But it wasn't the same, there was a heaviness to the air, a sadness that he couldn't shake.

Ansel sat at the table, he was sharpening his sword, his expression hard, the man's eyes dark with anger and grief. He looked up as Niklaus approached, his gaze fixed on him, a hint of surprise in his face, "Niklaus Mikaelson, the gods have truly blessed me today," he stood and gripped Niklaus' arm in a warrior's greeting, "I'm sorry for the loss of your loved ones, I knew your mother well. May she rest with the gods in Valhalla,"

"Thank you, Jarl Ansel, it is an honor to meet you," Niklaus said, returning the grip, the man's strength taking him by surprise, "and the gods are merciful. They brought me here, to your village."

Ansel smiled and gestured for him to sit, the older man poured two cups of ale and handed one to Niklaus, "To the gods," he said, raising his cup.

"To the gods," Niklaus repeated, his gaze fixed on the man before him.

"My scouts have informed me that the Blackthornes have been raiding across the land," Ansel said, his voice low, "rounding up our young to sell into slavery."

Niklaus gripped his cup tighter, his knuckles white, "Aye," he nodded, "they took my little brother Henrik and my near sister-in-law Gerda,"

"They are foul creatures," Ansel spat, "they have no honor, no respect for the old ways."

"That's why I've come to you," Niklaus said, his voice firm, "I've come to seek your help in finding them, in saving the people they have taken."

Ansel gave him a sympathetic look, "You have my sympathies, but I cannot take on the Blackthornes," he shook his head, his jaw set, "I need my men here to protect my people,"

Niklaus swallowed hard, he had expected this answer, he felt rage bubbling within him, "I will not stand idly by while those bastards take more people from their families,"

Ansel's expression hardened, "it is the will of the gods, we must accept it,"

"No," Niklaus shook his head, his anger rising, "I will not accept that." He stood, his fists clenched, his heart racing, "I will not accept the gods abandoning us. I will not accept that they have given up on us,"

"Niklaus," Ansel warned, "I am your elder, and the Jarl of this village. You will show me the respect I deserve,"

"Respect?" Niklaus spat, his face twisted with anger, "you're nothing but a coward. You're content to sit here, in your hall, surrounded by your men. But you won't go out and fight."

"It's more complicated than that son," Ansel said, his voice steady, his eyes cold.

"Don't call me son," Niklaus growled, "you're not my father, you're nothing to me."

Ansel chuckled and shook his head, "You remind me so much of your mother. She was just as stubborn and foolish,"

Niklaus took a deep breath, calming himself, he wanted to strike at Ansel. But he thought of Rebekah and Kol, they needed him, he couldn't afford to lose control, not now, not when he was so close to getting the help he needed.

"If you will not help me," Niklaus said, his voice low and dangerous, "then I will find the Blackthornes myself,"

Ansel sighed and rubbed his temples, his jaw set, his expression grim, "I will give you any supplies you may need, and you and your family are welcome to stay here, as long as you need."

Niklaus clenched his fists, he was torn between wanting to accept the man's offer and wanting to strike him down, to make him feel the pain of losing someone.

"I appreciate the offer," Niklaus said, his voice strained, "I wish you could do more for me, but I will take what I can get."

"The gods are not always clear in their will, Niklaus," Ansel said, his voice low and steady, "but I have my people to look out for. Perhaps you will be a Jarl one day, and then you will understand,"

"Perhaps," Niklaus said, the man's words ringing in his head, he turned and left the hall, the anger inside him simmering.

He needed to find you, to find Elijah, to save Henrik and Gerda. Every god there ever was could stand against him for all be cared, he would drag his broken body through the gates of the underworld to save those he loved.

Tatia insisted that Niklaus heal before setting out to find the Blackthornes. She cared for him and his family, ensuring that they had everything they needed.

She took a keen interest in him, her eyes following him, her gaze lingering on him, her touch sending jolts of warmth through his body.

The night before he set off, he sat in her hut, nursing a cup of ale, lost in his thoughts. Tatia hummed softly has she shaved the sides of his head, the young woman's hands deft and sure, the only sounds were the blade and the crackle of the fire.

"Where will you go in search for them?" Tatia asked, her voice low, as she ran the blade along his scalp.

"The coast, I've heard rumors that the Blackthornes are selling slaves in the fishing market there,"

Tatia nodded, "it's a dangerous place, and not a good fate for any young child,"

"I have to try," Niklaus said, his voice heavy with emotion, his throat tight, his chest aching, the pain of losing his parents and brother still raw, the grief weighing on him.

"Of course," Tatia whispered, her voice like a song, her hands gentle as she ran them over his head, checking for any missed patches of hair. She braided the long strip of hair that remained on top, her touch gentle, comforting, "the gods will guide you, Niklaus."

Niklaus nodded, her words echoing in his head. He had always been a devout man, believing in the will of the gods, but lately, he felt lost, adrift, as if the gods had abandoned him, his family, his village.

"Why did the gods allow the Blackthornes to destroy my village?" He whispered, his voice hoarse, the pain and rage within him threatening to overwhelm him, "why did they let my parents die?"

"The gods work in mysterious ways, Niklaus," Tatia said, her voice soft, understanding, "they are not always clear in their will, we must trust them, and have faith that they have a plan."

She finished braiding, her hands sliding over his shoulders, the touch making his heart race. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, his mind swirling, his emotions churning. The young healer had a calming effect on him, the tension leaving his body, the rage and pain subsiding, at least for a moment.

She kissed the side of his head, her lips soft, warm, her scent intoxicating, a mixture of herbs and spices. She sat beside him, her hand on his arm, her eyes filled with concern, "You should rest," she said softly, "you have a long journey ahead of you."

Niklaus looked into her dark eyes, she was a singular beauty, one that he could easily lose himself in. He had felt a connection with her since the first moment he saw her, his soul calling out to her, begging him to surrender, to lose himself in her. But he knew he couldn't, he had made a promise, he had a duty to fulfill, he was to marry you.

But you could be dead, his mind whispered. And even if you weren't, there were no guarantees that he would find you, or that you would survive the journey.

And he could die, tomorrow or the next day, on the road, at the hands of the Blackthornes. The world was a dangerous place, and death was always around the corner.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, his heart hammering in his chest. He pressed his lips against hers, his hands cupping her face, the kiss deepening, the two of them melting into each other.

Niklaus felt a surge of lust, his body aching for her, the desire coursing through him, his mind spinning. He knew this was wrong, that he was betraying you, his future wife, but in this moment, he didn't care. All he wanted was her.

He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, his eyes burning into hers. His hands went to her waist, lifting her onto his lap, his cock hardening, pressing against her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him, her lips warm and soft.

She rocked her hips against his, the friction sending waves of pleasure through him. He groaned, his fingers digging into her flesh, his need for her overwhelming him.

"Lay with me, before I ride off to Valhalla," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

She nodded, her cheeks flushed, her dark eyes filled with desire. Her hand trailing down his chest, his body tensing at her touch, his blood burning for her.

He picked her up and carried her to her bed, the two of them falling onto the soft furs. Their bodies entwined, the passion and heat between them consuming them.

The guilt and shame Niklaus had felt earlier disappeared as Tatia moaned beneath him, her skin slick with sweat, her body quivering as he brought her to climax.

He kissed her, his tongue dancing with hers, the taste of her, the feeling of her body, soft and yielding, thoughts of you long forgotten.

{Part One} {Part Three} {Part Four} {Part Five}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy

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kookygranger · 8 months

Text

Is This Desire?

Firefighter!Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader

A confession, a premonition, and a reality check for your inexperienced heart.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, fire injury, Steve gets hurt, witchcraft, reader is a town outcast, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au

Word count: 2.1k

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter Four: Rub 'Til It Bleeds

I… Lie Steady Rest your head on me I’ll smooth it nicely Rub it better, ‘til it bleeds

The steady patter of rain on the roof fills your front room. Steve sits patiently on your velvet forest green couch, arms resting along the back, knees spread and eyes following your pacing form.

The petrichor that wafts through the open window along with the scent of your Palo Santo incense burning in the corner seeps through his muscles in a relaxing wave. Despite the solemn look on your face when you’d gotten up off the couch, leaving his fingers hovering for a moment instead of rubbing your temples, he wasn’t fazed. His heart rate didn’t spike when you’d blurted out that you had something to tell him. Because you were here standing in front of him, and you were safe. Right here in your space.

“I am a witch.”

Steve’s confused by the look you give him. Like you’re expecting him to react.

“And?”

Your shoulders fall from their heightened state, and he wants to rub the tension right out of them. “What do you mean and?”

“You said you had something to tell me.”

“That was it.”

“Oh, well I know that.” He shrugs.

“Excuse me?!”

“Baby,” he laughs, leaning forward, “You’ve got spell books and weird dried flowers all over the place. Doors close by themselves around you. The flowers in the front yard bloom better than any in this town, no matter the weather. No one can step a foot past the front porch unless you invite them in. I’m slow but not that slow.”

You tsk, “You’re not slow. But you realise I’m not just talking about practicing witchcraft? I have real powers Steve.” You place your hands palms up in front of you as if to demonstrate an invisible force.

He nods.

Your shoulders fall even further and now he knows he has to get in there with his hands. “Why haven’t you ever said anything about it?”

Steve shrugs, “What’s there to say.”

“It doesn’t freak you out?”

“Why would it freak me out? If anything, it’s pretty cool.”

You stare at him, mouth parted slightly in disbelief. “You’re kind of a freak yourself Steve Harrington.”

He beams. “Really? I always thought I was boring.”

You shake your head, sinking into the couch beside him and Steve grabs your leg to pull you in closer immediately. You rub over the white cotton covering his side, tracing circles as he leans his forehead against yours. “I would never use that word to describe something that constantly takes my breath away.”

His brows raise, as he laughs softly through his nose, “Cheesy.”

You nod, “That’s a better word for you.” You feel his smile against your lips as your eyes close.

***

It’s the feeling of heaviness that wakes you.

An invisible force sitting on your chest that slowly brings you around from a disturbing dream. Of what, you have no recollection, but you know it was something bad. It had to be.

Because the softness of the freshly washed pillowcase under your cheek and the strong arm holding you in place against a warm chest breathing steady did nothing to dissolve it. The feeling that something bad was going to happen.

When Steve finds you in the kitchen a few hours later, you hold onto him a little tighter than usual as he wraps his half-naked form around you.

The sun creeps through the stained-glass window over the sink, orange patterns painting the tiled floor and his bare skin. Your mug of tea sits on the counter, abandoned in search of him, hands finding heat-flushed skin instead of cooling ceramic. You breathe in his scent, face tucked into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

“Don’t go.”

He almost doesn’t hear your whispered plea over the quiet hum of morning rituals.

His arms tighten around you, lips placing a placating kiss into your hair. “What do you mean? I’m not going anywhere.”

He notices the lines under your eyes as you emerge from his embrace.

“Your shift later. Don’t go to work. Stay here today.”

He smiles, all sleep-mussed hair and pink cheeks, but your pulling away as he leans in for a kiss makes him frown.

“Steve, I’m serious. Please don’t go to work.”

He shakes his head, arms still wrapped around your back as you cling to his bare shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“I–I don’t know. I just have this bad feeling, I don’t want you going anywhere I can’t get to you. Where I can’t protect you.”

The smile returns to his face. “Baby, I’m okay. Nothing’s gonna happen to me. You probably just had a bad dream or somethin’. I trust those guys with my life, we’ve got each other’s backs.”

You shake your head, willing him to understand as you grip him tighter.

“I’ve been doin’ this job for years. I know it can be kinda scary but nothing’s ever happened to me.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

He doesn’t listen, shushing you with kisses instead. The creased lines of frustration on your face and worry over his well-being only stirred up the feeling he’d woken up with this morning. The cold empty bed that met his half-asleep wandering hand, was what prompted his journey downstairs in the first place.

You know that he’s not listening. That there are limits to the belief he has in your abilities because of his basic knowledge. He doesn’t understand that to you a feeling can truly be premonition.

So, you lean into the distraction and try and give him a reason to stay.

You let his hands find their way under your oversized shirt. Rough fingertips tickling your stomach, causing a rolling heat under your skin as they slide past the waistband of your sleep shorts, cotton pooling on the floor and protecting his knees as he gets down in front of you. Your lower back presses into the kitchen benchtop, quiet pops of bone as you arch at the feeling of his lips pressing soft touches.

He takes his time getting you worked up, leaving teasing trails of heat as your leg wraps around his shoulder and his hands dig into your hips – painting fresh blots of lilac over the fading petals previously left by him.

A high-pitched keen of his name, and he makes his way slowly up your trembling body, nose grazing along your soft curves and healed scars, trailing wet kisses in his wake. You feel him kick up at the moan you gift him with when you taste yourself on his tongue, his black boxer briefs quickly joining the growing pile on the floor after a soft graze of your hand sends his head spinning.

When you feel him begin to lose control, his hips stuttering and breath hot on the side of your neck, you distract him further. Pulling the hem of your shirt up around your neck and leading his hands to explore his second favourite feature on your body.

You lead with this trick when you find your way back to bed later, hoping he’ll lose time mapping your skin with his teeth.

When that doesn’t work, and his sweaty body disappears into the shower only slightly later than he'd intended, you tuck a handkerchief filled with dried Angelica root and blessed thistle in the pocket of his pants. Kissing him deeply at the door, mumbling Latin into his mouth while he, oblivious, promises you he’ll come straight back over after his shift.

***

There’s nothing you can do to distract yourself from the worry. The heaviness in your chest grows by the hour as you fruitlessly try reading, going on a walk and even baking cinnamon rolls – Steve’s favourite.

They’re perfectly fluffy. Spiced just right with the icing set in a sticky translucent layer. But the sweetness tastes bitter on your tongue, and you can’t manage more than one bite.

When night finally falls, you’re a mess.

Cup of tea now cold in your hands as you watch the minutes tick by on the old mahogany framed clock on the wall. When the big hand lines up in opposition with the little, creeping over the four, a sharp pain strikes you across the left side of your chest and you cry out in surprise, hand clutching over your heart. You knew it.

Your feet find the first pair of worn boots abandoned by the door, the cardigan over your night dress sufficient enough coverage on this still summer’s night as you race out of the door. Intuition leads you into the centre of town, following a trail of sirens and ignoring the burn in your lungs as you run.

The blaze is noticeable from two streets away, golden embers floating up high in signal. You’re not the only underdressed panic-stricken person on the street by the time you make it to the apartment complex, easily lost in the crowd of evacuees and curious neighbours. The top floor, three stories up is ablaze with a ferocious fire. Yellow flames licking up the side of the windows despite the steady stream of water blasting from the parked fire engine.

The sheriff pulls up with two patrol cars in tow, ready for crowd management but your attention is focused solely on the men in fire-resistant navy uniforms. Desperately searching faces for a familiar smile but all you see are foreign frowns on sweat-drenched brows.

Something’s not right. It isn’t under control.

You hear yells from inside the building, men rushing in to help clear a path for a limp body being carried under the arms and by the legs. Everything stops, the noise muffled like you’re underwater when you see a helmetless mop of golden brown hair.

“STEVE!”

Your body is stopped by the arms of a stranger, keeping you from him as he’s placed on the front lawn and paramedics rush to his side. Eventually, you thrash and wriggle enough to slip free, crumpling into a heap next to him as he splutters awake, taking ragged breaths through the oxygen mask strapped to his face. Somebody tries to tell you, you don’t belong here but as soon as Steve notices your presence he’s clutching your arm with a soot-stained hand.

He never lets go, even as he’s transferred onto a gurney and you follow alongside him while he’s wheeled to the ambulance, cheeks soaked with tears and breaths leaving you in hiccups, you hold on to his hand.

Another person tries to stop you from getting into the back of the bus, but Steve groans. Eyes shut tightly in pain his free hand pulls the mask away from him.

“She’s mine.”

Maybe normally you’d scoff. Maybe even give the boy a lecture about male possession and women's autonomy. But right now all you do is nod, letting his grip on you extend to your heart that feels his squeeze.

Once the back doors shut you lean over him, pushing his hair away from his sweaty forehead to place a soft kiss there. His eyes flutter open, the fluorescent light above you casting a glow around your form that he swears is there every day.

“I should’ve listened baby, I’m sorry.” He coughs harshly and a fresh wave of tears falls onto your puffy face. He clutches you tighter still when you bury your face in his neck, never wanting to be the cause of your heartache ever again.

“Please don’t leave me Steve.”

***

A fractured rib and smoke inhalation.

That’s what the older man in a white coat told Steve as you stood by his hospital bed. Rest, a night on the oxygen tank and constant monitoring. It could’ve been worse he said. Much worse if his unconscious body spent any longer laying on those stairs with the smoke curling around him.

Steve couldn’t remember what happened. Said his own oxygen tank might’ve caught on something or been pushed off his body in a rush to move through the burning building when the blaze worsened quicker than they were anticipating. All he remembers is smoke, not being able to catch his breath then you, weeping above him, embers floating around your head.

Nurses come by often during the night. A pitying smile on their faces when you refuse to leave his side, chair dragged over to his bed so he could hold your hand and you could watch his chest rise and fall steadily as he sleeps.

The pain in your own hasn’t left.

All you can think when you see his peaceful face twitch in his sleep is that you should've known. Good things never last around you.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #firefighter!steve harrington #witch!reader #she writes

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galahadwilder · 2 years

Text

The Time I Got Reincarnated as an Evil Version of Myself

Chapter 1: Honey Sweet

My AO3 is linked in my bio.

After Catalyst, Chloé’s life only got better. Now a full-time superhero, she managed to finally make new friends, forging bonds with the other members of her team. She’d repaired her relationships with her father and Sabrina, fallen in love, and welcomed a surprise sister with open arms.

Then she wakes up in a world where none of that happened. Where, after Catalyst, she only got worse, and lonelier, and more and more bitter.

The canon timeline, in fact. Or something close to it.

Chloé is the only one who remembers the other world. Her friends hate her, her relationships are destroyed, even her girlfriend has barely ever spoken to her. But that’s okay. Whether good or evil, Chloé Bourgeois has never—and WILL never—let anything stop her.

Honeybee claws her way back to consciousness with a splitting headache.

"Urgh," she groans, feeling her throat seize mid-noise as she tries to fight down a vomit. Might be a concussion. "Anyone..." She winces as the word sends pain spiking through her skull. "Anyone get the license on that Akuma?"

Wow. She really has been spending a lot of time with Adrien lately.

She tries to roll onto her hands, to stand up, when she realizes that something's wrong. The ground—the ground is soft. If she got hit hard enough to get knocked down, she should be either on roof or on the street. Neither of which are soft.

Actually, it feels like she's on a bed.

She shoots upright, then immediately regrets it as her brain hammers on the inside of her eyeballs. "Augh!" she yelps, clutching at her forehead.

Then she realizes that what she's feeling is flesh on flesh. There's no spandex. She's ungloved.

She's not transformed.

Her eyes shoot open, and she once again immediately regrets it as beams of light stab between her fingers straight into her optic nerves. She shrieks, covering her head with her forearms.

Yes, that is definitely a concussion.

She carefully cracks her eyes, trying to regulate the stabbing light as slowly as she can. Still hurts, but less, so she's taking the time to adjust. "Pollen?" she croaks.

There's no response.

Immediately, Chloé throws her eyes open, heedless of the pain. Pollen's not with her? Was she—did—did Hawkmoth get her?

It takes her a moment to adjust, before she realizes that she's in her room. Which, okay, that's not great, because she doesn't remember getting her so she must've blacked out, or maybe died, during the Akuma fight, but on the other hand Zoé probably has Pollen right now so at least the Kwami is safe.

Chloé rolls herself out of bed, groaning again at the throbbing in her head. If the Cure went off, why does she still hurt? It usually knits her back together by now.

She stumbles toward her closet, opens the door, and pulls out her favorite fluffy terrycloth robe. She hopes Zoé is back. She wants to check and make sure her sister—and the Kwami they share—are okay.

She makes her way toward the door to her suite, walking as much with her hands on the wall as with her feet on the floor. Her balance is really gone right now. She should probably get back to bed, rest, but she has to check on Zoé. She's not sure why, but she's starting to get the sinking feeling that something is very, very wrong.

Creeping into hallway is easy enough, at least. Her balance is coming back, the vertigo is retreating. She crosses, light-footed, to her sister's door and knocks. Gently, because ow. Sounds are ow.

For a moment, there's no response, and Chloé feels her heart leap into her throat. Then, finally, she hears Zoé's voice: "Who is it?"

"Chloé," Chloé calls back, her throat rasping.

"...Oh," Zoé says. "What do you want?"

"Just checking on you," Chloé says. "Is—" She swallows. "Is Pollen with you? She wasn't in my room when I woke up."

She hears absolute silence from the room, then the sound of her sister's feet padding across the floor. Zoé throws the door open, wearing her favorite yellow-trimmed black silk pajamas—but the glare on her face is significantly less familiar.

"That's not funny, Chlo," Zoé snaps.

Chloé blinks. "I... wasn't... trying to be?" she says.

"Well, good, 'cause you failed," Zoé says. "I can't even tell what you were trying to do." She crosses her arms and leans against the doorway, scowling. "Why in God's name would I have—like, were you accusing me of working with Monarch? Because I have tried to be a good sister, but there's some things—"

"What?" Chloé says. "I just—" She blinks, swallows. "I just wanted to know if you two were okay."

Zoé straightens, stares at her, confusion written in her wide eyes. "I—what?"

Chloé starts to feel her neck heat. "Did... did I say something wrong?" she says.

"You never ask if I'm okay," Zoé says. She reaches out her palm, placing it on Chloé's forehead. "Are you feeling sick or something?"

Chloé leans into her hand, her eyes fluttering closed. "I think I have a concussion," she mutters.

"...How?" Zoe asks, pulling her hand back (causing Chloé to whine at the loss of contact). "Did you fall off the bed or something?"

Chloé shakes her head. "Took an Akuma to the face," she says. "I just wanted to make sure you picked up Pollen after I detransformed."

Zoé's face grows clouded with concern. "Chloé," she says, "you... haven't been Queen Bee for, like, a year."

"I mean, duh?" Chloé says. "I told you, I had to change my hero name to protect my identity." She's starting to wonder if Zoé is okay, now. Does she not remember?

Zoé's face twists back into a scowl. "Oh, now you're telling me that you were Vesperia?" she snaps. "Real funny, Chloé. I'll see you at school." Then she slams the door.

Chloé blinks. Of... of course she wasn't saying that, Zoé is Vesperia. What has her sister so angry?

Getting ready for the day is been unexpectedly difficult. All of her favorite outfits are missing—in the wash, probably—so she’s stuck with a bunch she doesn’t remember buying. Probably from Daddy. The only lip gloss she’s able to find is that white one she’d stopped wearing months ago when she realized how much it made her look like she was about to demand to speak to someone’s manager—i.e., her mother. (She’d had a full-blown dissociative episode over that one. No way in hell is she touching that particular lip gloss anymore.) She decides that it’s probably a hair down kind of day, though her yellow hoodie seems to be missing so she can’t go full comfy, which is slightly grating.

Zoé doesn't wait for her to walk to school together the way she usually does. Something's really wrong—Chloé must have pissed her off really badly. The worst part is, she has no idea what she even said. She keeps replaying the conversation they had in her mind, trying to figure out what happened, what had triggered Zoé this badly, but she can't. She's stuck on one thing.

Zoé had mentioned someone—or something—called Monarch. She’d talked about them like they were some kind of new villain, almost with a sense of… paranoia? It’s unsettling, a little bit. Chloé can’t help wondering how much, exactly, happened while she was unconscious. Or dead, or whatever.

It’s been a year and she’s still not quite used to thinking that.

She wanders into class holding a tray full of coffees, each of which she’s marked with the animal symbol of one of her friends as a bit of an inside joke—and also to keep them straight, because god forbid she accidentally give Marinette “black coffee or death” Dupain-Cheng some of Adrien’s cream-and-sugar monstrosity.

”Morning, guys,” she says, removing the cardboard cups from her tray and placing them in front of Adrien and Nino. “Coffee’s up.”

The entire classroom falls silent at once, and suddenly everyone’s eyes are on her, pressing on her with the weight of confusion and judgment. Nino and Alya, in particular, seem more baffled than anything else—but Adrien… Adrien seems angry.

”Was… it not my turn?” Chloé says, weakly. Did she do something? Why is everyone so pissed at her today?

“Your turn for what?” Alya says, confused, before she turns her cup and sees what Chloé drew on it. Her face draws tight. “Oh. Thanks. Very funny, Chloé.”

”What?” Nino says. “What did she…?”

Alya points at his cup. “Turtle shell.”

“Oh.” Nino turns a glare on Chloé. “Asshole.”

Chloé’s heart leaps up into her throat, and she swears she can’t breathe. “I—what?” she gasps. “I wasn’t—I didn’t—” What is happening?

Adrien’s face is white as a sheet, now. He’s staring at his cup like he’s been struck dead. She’s not even sure he’s breathing.

”I—I—” Chloé’s starting to feel overwhelmed. Hopeless. Everything’s going wrong today and she has no idea why and oh no, she’s gonna get Akumatized, she has to get out of here before she hurts somebody.

”Scuse me!” she yelps, body-slamming back out the classroom door and dashing toward the second-floor bathrooms.

The charm Marinette gave her is the wrong color.

It’s such a weird thing to fixate on, what with everything happening right now, but focusing on that is helping Chloé keep calm. She hasn’t heard the flap of butterfly wings yet, so it seems to be working?

Either way. The Anti-Akuma charm is the wrong color. It’s… yellow. The same yellow as her uniform. Which would’ve made sense for any number of her Akuma forms, except that the one that Marinette specifically gave her the charm for, she had been dressed in a way that was patterned on Ryuuko’s costume, not any of Chloé’s—red, with black and gold accents. This is not her charm.

She hears the door to the bathroom open, and immediately she’s on alert. There are any number of people she doesn’t want to see right now, and if any of them—

“Chloé? Are you… sitting on the floor?”

Oh thank Kwami. That’s Marinette’s voice.

”Sorry,” Chloé mumbles, barely keeping the tears out of her voice. “Trying not to get Akumatized.” She barely looks up as her friend’s pink capris enter her field of vision, though she does hold up the Anti-Akuma charm. “Charm seems to be working okay.”

”That’s goo—wait.” Marinette seems to dither, stuck between going to Chloé and entering the bathroom stall. “I thought that was a gift from your mom?”

“What? No, you gave me this,” Chloé says, then coughs out a single laugh. “Only thing Audrey ever gave me was mommy issues.”

”I… don’t know what you’re talking about?” Marinette says, unconvincingly.

That makes Chloé look up, meeting her friend’s eyes in confusion. ”Nobody else is here, Mari,” she says. “It’s just us.”

Marinette takes a step back.

Chloé blinks. “What is with everyone today?” she says.

”I don’t… know?” Marinette says.

Chloé sighs, staring back down at the tiled floor. “Did Pollen stay the night at your place? I couldn’t find her this morning and Zoé wouldn’t talk to me.”

Marinette is silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. “Who’s…” she croaks. “Who’s Pollen?”

”Oh, come on!” Chloé snaps, slamming a fist into the tiled floor. “Don’t tell me you forgot. Kwami of Subjugation? Looks like a tiny humanoid bee?”

"You—!" Marinette says, and Chloé is surprised to hear the wetness in her voice. She looks up to see Marinette's reddened face, eyes shining with tears that she's clearly trying to hold back. "Why—why would I—know where—where—where—where—where—"

Oh, no. Chloé knows this look. Something just triggered Marinette, badly, and though she has no idea what, Chloé can't just let her best friend spiral. She reaches behind her and pulls herself up on the sink, staggering into Marinette and sweeping her into a hug. "Hey," she says, pressing her palms against Marinette's back, pulling her in close. "We'll find her, okay? She's—"

The she feels the sink crack against the base of her spine before she even registers that Marinette has shoved her. She slips, pinwheeling, back to the ground, plastic dust raining down onto her head, barely even aware of her own body—the impact drove all the breath, and all the thoughts, clean out of her.

"Don't—don't touch me," Marinette whispers from the floor across from her, shaking, eyes wide. She's thrown herself across the bathroom, too, tripped backward onto her butt. "Don't touch—don't... you..."

Chloé, stunned, looks at her own hands, the dust on them, the deep red scrapes where rough plastic friction burned her skin. She can't feel them yet, but she's going to in less than a minute, and they look... they look painful. Part of her, the ragged, nasty part, the part of her that is her mother, wants to leap up, scream, throw Marinette against a wall, storm into the principal's office and demand she be expelled. She wants to take out the pain of the last few hours on everyone else, because it's always been easier to vent it than feel it.

But more than that, more than anything, she just wants her goddamn teddy bear.

It takes her a moment to realize that she's crying, because it takes her a moment to remember to breathe, but when the breath comes it comes hard and ragged. "I'm—I'm—s-s-sorry," she sobs. "J-j-just want—want—wanted to... to... help."

Marinette looks at her like she's grown a second head.

Chloé, heedless of the scrapes and the dust, buries her face in her hands and finally feels whatever inside of her was still holding together collapse.

Then she hears a very familiar voice in her head. The one she still has nightmares about.

Hello, Princess Solitaire, Hawkmoth says.

@emma-d-klutz @generalluxun @naresar @ninepostsstuff @grotesquewombat @erisluna35 @oblivionhold @all-peristeronic @chaos-has-theories @into-september @claws-and-bee-stings @279ital @drawing2cope

#miraculous ladybug #chloe bourgeois #reborn as a villainess #chloe redemption #zoe lee #marinette dupain cheng #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #original content #my fic #ml fic #isekai #otome isekai #angst #the time i got reincarnated as an evil version of myself #that time i got reincarnated as an evil version of myself

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ffxivaltaholic · 16 days

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Prompt #10: Stable

#FFxivWrite2024

"Aaaaand Done!" A delighted bristling of the Miqo'te's fluffy tail would accompany her pleased grin. "Now you look perfect for your date!" Taking a small mirror and bringing it to the Raen woman, N'akani beamed with pride at her handiwork. While the Seeker was a bit of a lazy freeloader, she had a talent with makeup and henna. Taking the Mirror and shifting to look at her face, the Raen woman offered a dazzling smile in response. "You are truly gifted." Ame examined her eyes, in awe of the color blending and flawless finish she'd been given. Standing with hands parked at her hips, N'akani gave the Aura a once over, checking her for any loose whisps of hair, and the makeup for anything out of place, down to a single lash. "You're going to look so pretty that he's going to be weak the moment you grace his presence!" She chirped and circled the regal blonde Raen for one final look, fixing a strand of hair. "Will you be back tonight?" Trying to hide her envy as she cleaned up her brushes and makeup. Sitting as if a lady in a painting, Ame folded her hands on her lap. "No, but we'll be back in the morning." The Seeker's ears immediately drooped, and it was obvious that her disappointment loomed over her. The Raen did her best to hide a little, knowing, smirk. "You should dress up as well, go out for the night." Not that N'akani needed to much encouragement to glam up, but she wanted to go out with them. Even though they both got their individual time with him, she wanted both of their attentions equally. "Yeah I suppose..." The energy had depleted and as Ame rose to start dressing, the Miqo'te sat in her place, applying her own makeup. Few words were exchanged and it was becoming increasingly difficult for Ame to stay quiet about the evening, but she had to pretend until the right moment. An hour passed before both were dressed and ready, looking as if they were going to a high-end restaurant or a fancy show. As expect, waiting out front the tall Raen man tried to be patient. He had learned that anything involving N'akani was never, ever, on time. "Kaze!" Ame waved to him, pulling N'akani along gently behind her. It was finally time and she could barely contain her excitement, coming to a halt in front of him. A small, knowing, nod was exchanged between the Aura and they both shifted their gaze to N'akani, the gloom hovering over her like a little storm cloud.

"N'akani." His voice smooth and gentle as he tried to coax her to look at him. It took a moment before those fluffy black ears would perk up and her attention shifted to Kaze's face. "You look lovely." Even though she was upset, the Seeker couldn't help but take the compliment with unbridled joy, her tail swishing back and forth. "I hope you two have fun tonight..." Trying her very best to be sincere and supportive, N'akani forced a small smile at her partners. In truth, this was the first time in her life she had truly been stable, with a consistent roof over her head, food on the table and trusted people... Safe people. A bit of guilt hit as she realized her mood was going to negatively impact the evening, after all they had done for her to ensure her happiness. It was only one night. Individual dates were not even unusual and he had taken her on one the previous week, but she wanted to spend time with them together. Finally Ame could not take waiting any longer and she nudged her partner, getting a slight look of 'what the fuck' from him, until it clicked a moment later and he muttered. "Right.. yes." Before shifting to grab a small container from a pocket. "Uh N'akani." He watched the Seeker perk up again, her face a mix of confusion and joy, thinking perhaps they would come back this evening instead of staying in Kugane. "You're coming too..." The truth of their little plan was revealed, the suggestion to go out on her own, a ruse by Ame to get her dressed up so they could take her out with them. There was a moment where silence reigned between the three as it seemed to process like slowly turning cogs for the Miqo'te. Then it clicked. "A-ah... Really?" Both ears perked right up, though her attention shifted from their faces to the small box Kaze held, confused but piqued. As he turned to look at Ame, she opened the container, with a small promise ring inside, bearing three colored stones in it, one black, one pink and the last a vibrant yellow. Stunned at the thoughtful gift, N'akani looked between them before her eyes welled up and a few tears fell. "Of course. We should get going though, we are on a timeline." Kaze chuckled and took hold of her hand, sliding the little gold ring on while Ame dabbed under her eyes to catch the tears and spare the makeup from smudging. Those gestures nearly brought more tears to the Seeker's eyes, but she managed to compose herself, for the sake of the makeup.

But by the twelve... It felt so wonderful to be loved.

#ame kusakari #n'akani azren #ffxivwrite2024 #They're a cute polycule #N'akani spent much of her teen years on the streets of Ul'Dah

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automaticsoulharmony · 1 year

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To Mourn a Loss That Isn’t Yours

Two of the most significant losses in Tim’s childhood, happenned not to him, but his heroes. When those heroes become his family, it gets harder to feel he has any right to mourn.

It was late when Dick and Tim finally stopped training. Training with Nightwing was never simple, more of an adventure. They started out by train jumping. This had become a semi-common exercise ever since he had taught Tim how. Then it was the crevices of Gotham. Batman was good at disappearing into the shadows, but sometimes a robin, in their bright colors, needs to take a different approach. So occasionally Dick will do an exercise with Tim about where some nooks and crannies are, and how to hide in them.

“Hey, I have a surprise!” Dick said excitedly. Tim almost jumped, which would’ve been bad since they were sitting on the edge of the tallest building in Gotham. Dick smiled bright at him, beaming at Tim like he was the one looking upon his childhood hero.

Tim often wished that Nightwing would come down from Bludhaven more. It always gave Gotham this sort of light for Tim. Maybe it was because Dick was the first Robin, or maybe it was the suffocating hugs, or the easy talks, or just having fun together.

He knows why the man doesn’t though, It’s obvious. It’s what causes every problem in the house. The name no one would ever say, even mutter. The reason Bruce wouldn’t let him stay in the house, and why Nightwing avoided looking at him sometimes. It was all because of Jason.

It had been a year since Jason got a letter from his real mother. A year since he slashed all the tires in the batcave. A year since he stole the Bat-jet. A year since he went to Ethiopia.

On the last day of this month it would be a year since the publication of his death. A year since Tim cried in his room, no one else in the house, a newspaper clutched to his chest. A year since he had no one who understood why he cared so much about someone he had never even talked to. Of course, no one knew that.

It wasn’t his loss to mourn.

Dick swept Tim into the air, breaking him out of his thoughts. He gripped Dicks arm as he flew through the air. They dropped to the ground in front of something that Tim had seen a million times on patrol. He had seen it more often before he was Robin, when he was birdwatching from the rooftops. Batman often brought Tim’s predecessors here after patrol. He stared at it in wonder, it’s neon lights shining on his face, practically blinding him.

“I’m sure B has taken you here a ton but,” Tim, still staring at the building, not focusing on his motions, shook his head. “Really? B used to take me and.. Um, Jason all the time.”

“I mean,” Tim had to backtrack, quickly. “I mean, he always takes me to Benny’s.” Dick nodded.

“Well then, this can be our place.”

At the end of the month, Tim sat in his empty manor, and stared at a faded newspaper and mourned a loss he was not supposed to.

They were falling, the bright colors were falling through the blinding light. There was echoes of cries around him, salt water flooded into his mouth and he was almost choking on it.

Dick Grayson fell off the platform his parents were just standing on. Tim barely picked up on the quadruple somersault on the way down, then he hit the ground. It Wasn't Dick anymore. He gleamed in the bright Robin colors as Bruce put a hand on his shoulder.

Then the scene shifts. Tim could feel the pavement beneath him and knew he was in his city. He looked up to see a boy running, breathing heavily. His shoes hit the pavement hard, trying not to stumble. The hood was up, but you could see a small red curl popping out.

Then he was swept up into someone’s arms. Batman stood there hugging the child, but it wasn’t the small boy, it was Robin, Tim’s Robin, Jason.

Suddenly Tim was on a roof, he was running, faster and faster, he could feel the camera bouncing on his chest as he landed on the next roof. Then he slipped.

He was falling to the ground, it was getting closer and closer. He waited, he waited for Bruce, he waited for his own Robin colors to appear. But they never did, he kept falling, darkness surrounded him on all sides. It felt like he was falling forever. Then he wasn’t.

He was back in a seat with the smell of peanuts all around him. He could hear the music and the loud ring master. Before everything dimmed, and he was staring up at a woman and a man on opposite platforms. They swung towards each other, and Tim’s gut filled with dread. He wanted to tell them to stop. He wanted to warn everyone around but the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

Then the cacophony of gasps and screams started. Though the one heard above everything else, was a little boy's scream. And the salt water fell into Tim’s throat, and he couldn’t breath, the whole world blurred.

Tim sat straight up in his bed. His chest was heaving and he was now choking on nothing, sweat covering his face. He could still taste salt water in his mouth, but that probably had to do with the tear tracks on his face.

He knew what day it was. If he hadn’t looked at the calendar yesterday, if he hadn’t been tracking Dicks mood all week, if he hadn’t caught Bruce trying to call Dick two times to no avail, he would know by the nightmare.

He had one every year, on the same night. It wasn’t the same, and it had never been like this before. But it was always about the same thing, and it always ended in that same way. Two people fell, and a boy screamed. Sometimes all he could hear was the snap of the wires, the bodies hitting the ground, and the torrential scream of a little boy.

Nonetheless, he got up. A hollow feeling filling the whole house. He went over to his bathroom, splashing his face and scrubbing it with a washcloth. He took a deep breath, hands still shaking.

He was okay, he had to be. If not for Bruce, for Dick, and if not for Dick, then himself. It wasn’t his loss to mourn anyway.

Forcing himself up to function at least a little this morning. He walked down to the kitchen and grabbed some yogurt, and a grape soda for later. He wanted to be able to do more, but almost on instinct his body headed back to his room. He would have to function enough tonight, putting on a show of being fine, he didn’t need to waste that energy now.

Instead he pulled a folder out from his desk and sat down on his bed. The folder contained his most precious possessions.

Three pieces of paper sat inside. The first picture was of Jason and Bruce, sitting a top a building, it was the first clear shot Tim had gotten of the two. Jason was nestled in Bruce’s cape due to the cold weather.

He gingerly placed that one to the side and pulled out the next piece of paper. It was a newspaper clipping of the night Robin did a quadruple somersault.

Then as he moved that to the side, he saw what he was really looking for. There was a picture of Tim at four years old, eight years ago from today. He was sitting on Dicks knee, and the two older Graysons stood behind them. He let the picture lay in his lap and let his mind wander for a moment.

He sat thinking and wondering about what they were like. What would’ve happened if the wires never snapped? He pondered questions and thoughts, and mourned a loss he wasn’t supposed to.

Everything was gone.

Everyone was dead and gone, for the first time Tim had a million losses he was supposed to mourn. He did, he mourned every single person that died that year. The ones who were dead. So he didn’t mourn Bruce.

Tim was living in a small apartment downtown. He was tired. Tired of being alone, in an empty bedroom, no one to talk to. Again.

He thought everything was okay for a minute there. He thought he would get to have ice cream with Bruce, maybe even celebrate his birthday. But that was all gone too. He was kicked on the curb where he probably should have been a long time ago. He had no family, then he had a job and co-workers, and now he was alone.

He could still see the look on that kid’s face as Robin was taken right out of Tim’s palms. He wasn’t allowed to mourn that loss though, it had helped Damian.

But the worst part about all of it, he knew something. He knew something and nobody believed him. He knew Batman was out there, he knew Bruce was alive. Why didn’t anyone listen? He just wanted to save their father.

The whole room was filled with red string. Pictures from different centuries all over the world were scattered on the floor. Tim had barely eaten in a week and only fell asleep in front of his laptop. He just wanted to find Bruce, then this could all be over. Everything could go back to normal, right?

He had to find him, If not for Gotham, then for his family, and if not for his family.. Maybe for himself.

Tim left Gotham soon after. He made a new costume and disappeared without leaving a note.

And for once in his life, the tables had turned. He refused to mourn a loss he was supposed to.

#tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #red robin #nightwing #batman #robin dc #batfamily #batfam #angst #tim drake fanfic

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mewintheflesh-2 · 3 months

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(All of this was written over half a year ago, I just never got around to posting it, so the writing is likely to be a little outdated or strange. Once again im just posting from my drafts before i leave.)

NEW GIRL ALERT! Connie “Vira” Keristan

Leader and main member of Team Venom, whose goal is to take out any and every Evil Team at any costs necessary. She may or may not be able to travel realities.

Is an Assasin, she only works together with a select few people, and will kill to get people off her trail. Does not take clients.

Has quite the haul of impressive tech and gadgets, including but not limited to: Invisibility tech (including cloaking large areas), lazer beams, teleportation tech, and a WHOLE bunch of medical torture devices she should NOT have access to.

Main base is in the Pokémon world equivalent of Antarctica. Any other places she stays bare the possibility of being destroyed to pieces, so she sparsely takes residence in anywhere else but her main base.

Loves to torture people for info, and especially loves to torture Evil Team Leaders until they eventually give up their position or their lives.

If Fuse and her ever met I think they’d want to study each other like a bug under a microscope. Got forbid they actually get their hands on each other cause only one of them is coming out alive and I can’t tell you who. (Actually I can, it’s Fuse.)

And wrote a little something under the cut. :)

(The stuff under the cut is what all the whump and warning tags are for

Hanging from a grappling hook on the outer walls of Team Nightsky’s base, a woman peered through the window of Nightsky’s office.

Covered in a long, dark, hooded cloak held shut together by a belt beneath her chest, underneath was a dark purple uniform with the ensigna of thorny vines forming a point, dark purple shorts held up by a black and silver belt, baring a gun holster on each side of her body. Just beneath her shorts, a holster for a knife on her thigh, and beneath that, thick, black, heavy duty boots up to her knees. Her hair tied out of the way of her face in a bun, her face covered with a porcelain masquerade and a black cloth face mask.

She stared through her mask. Her prey, right in her sights. The only issue was how to get inside without being noticed… Or she could just go in guns blazing. Grabbing the rope dangling from her grappling hook, she hoisted herself upwards and began to speed up towards the roof. Pushing herself off the corner or the rooftop, she used the grappling hook to pull herself on top of the roof. Unhooking it from its place, she swung it in circles beside her as she walked.

It wouldn’t be easy to get to her destination without consequences, but she was prepared, and it was making everything so much more trivial than it should be. Who’s to blame for that other than *him* though? Not her fault he didn’t plan for people with invisibility tech and laser beams. Or if he did he sure as hell didn’t do a good job. Not a single guard even felt any motion from her walking right through their security.

Grabbing a gun from her right holster, she loaded a bullet sized vile of red crackling energy into the gun and pointed it at the floor beneath her, pulling the trigger.

The ricochet of the white hot energy bursting from the gun nearly knocked her down, but she quickly adjusted to the force and guided the lazer, cutting a hole in the floor beneath her.

The circle of the roof that’d been cut by the lazer fell inside the room beneath it with a bang, dropping in along with it, Vira.

Standing up tall on her “stage”, she stretched, “You know, if you’ve heard of me you’d know I’m not a fan of big fancy entrances like this, so let’s make this quick and easy.” She spat, though it quickly came to a halt when she realized her prey was no longer in the room she thought he was in. “Hm.”

“Hello, Vira.” A voice came from behind her, prompting her to snatch her knife from her leg holster and slice at the speaker.

A hand grabbed her arm before it could reach the persons neck. Vira took this opportunity to get a look at who she was fighting. Her eyes widened as she yanked her arm from their grasp and flipped away from them.

The leader of Nightsky himself.

She exhaled sharply, putting the knife back in its holster. “Of course a target like you wouldn’t be so easy to snatch. Just gotta make things difficult huh.” She grinned. “Let’s make this fun, shall we?”

“If you could even get close to harming me, sure, let’s.” The man of the Dark huffed, frustrated.

Slowly, they began to circle each other just around the broken piece of ceiling.

“So, you *have* heard of me. Flattering!” Vira said, hovering a hand over her left gun holster.

“How could I have not. Do you think I live under a rock? A World renown assassin only known for going after “evil team leaders”. You think nobody’s tried to warn me?”

The man slowly began reaching to his side, moving his long coat, revealing a gun holster of his own. Of course. Should’ve known someone like him always had a weapon on hand.

“Listen, I’m just a little flattered you know? Mister I’m The Only Person In The World That Matters, thinking about me! How sweet.” Vira smiled and chuckled sinisterly and she used her other hand to reach into another pocket.

He huffed again. “Don’t make it weird.”

Vira reached for a syringe and a vile in her right pocket, and landed her left hand on the gun in her left holster.

The Man of the Dark quickly drew his own gun and pointed it right at her head, still continuing to circle eachother. And before she could take another step, he pulled the trigger and shot.

But… she wasn’t… there?

The man, unnerved, held his position and scanned the room. Suddenly he felt something tapping his shoulder, he immediately pointed his gun towards whatever it was and shot. But there was nothing there.

“Where…” Nightsky mumbled frustratedly, glancing around the room frantically,

Vira erupted into laughter. “Oh how fun! It’s like playing whack-a-diglett isn’t it?” Vira’s voice rang from everywhere in the room at once. “Except, not really, like at all! Not sure why I said that!” She chuckled as she slipped the vile she had in her hand into her syringe.

“Why don’t you just show yourself already.” The man growled.

“Gimmie a sec will you?” Vira flipped the syringe in her hand and got in a ready position, just to the left of him, not too close, not too far away.

“Ready?” She whispered sinisterly, excitement evident in her voice.

Unveiling her location, she made a mad dash towards her prey, syringe in hand and ready to stab. The man’s eyes widened as he heard her footsteps, turning sharply toward her and grabbing her wrist right before she could reach him.

Before Vira could do anything to counter this, the man kicked her hard in the stomach across the room, her back slamming into the windowsill on the wall sending shape pains into her spine, the kick causing her to go into a coughing fit which intensified the sharp burns in her back.

“Using my missing eye to your advantage huh. How cruel are you really?” He tilted his head at her.

“Oh, please-” She choked up something that tasted of metals. “Couldn’t be cruler than you. And besides, we all know your eye isn’t really missing-“ interrupted by her own coughing, she began to shake a little. “You don’t have to lie.” She lifted her head to look at him, grinning underneath her mask.

The man could feel a rage begin to burn inside him. “Really now?” He grinned furiously as he began to walk towards her. “Then why don’t you tell me what really happened since you seem to know.” He bent down to firmly grab her by her neck and hoist her into the air. Vira choked on from her blood and his hand as she dangled from her neck. She reached her left arm up to his wrist, firmly squeezing it. Her right arm was still free, holding the syringe.. “I suggest you choose your words wisely.” He hissed.

“No-“ she squeaked out, smiling “No thanks.” Her right arm moved suddenly and sharply towards him.

Nightsky suddenly felt a cold, sharp stabbing sensation in his side, causing him to hiss. His grip on Vira loosened. “All this chatting has made me tired. But you’re about to be dead asleep.” Vira chuckled, injecting the syringes fluids into his body.

“…What…” He said, in an almost hushed tone. He suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion and burning pain wash over him, causing him to groan in agony. He ripped Vira’s arm away from him along with the syringe. Nightsky threw her to the ground as his breathing began to heavy, black beginning to spot around his vision, stumbling and struggled to stand.

Vira looked up at him and grinned underneath her mask, oh how beautiful the sight was. He stumbled forward and sideways, clutching his side. “What…. Did- didj you… DO-“ He hissed between gritted teeth, struggling to keep his eyes open, overwhelmed by the burning coursing through his veins.

“Nothing you need to worry about for now-“ She spoke quickly, interrupted by her choking. “Sleep tight,- Nightsky. You’ll be lucky if you ever- wake up again.” She erupted into a simultaneous laughing and coughing fit.

The man suddenly lost all feeling in his body, causing him to fall over onto his side. He struggled to keep his eyes open even barely, and as he did, he saw Vira as she struggled to stand and walk towards him. Right as she reached him, he passed out completely.

———

Nightsky’s mind began to stir awake after what felt like days, but what had really only been hours. There was something very cold beneath him. He shivered fiercely, opening his eyes to a blindingly bright light overhead. He tried to move his arm to block it from his eyes, but he found himself restrained. He tried getting up, but again something was holding him down. Something leathery. Rubbing directly against his wrists, ankles, neck, forehead, and chest. What happened to his coat, his shirt?

“Good to see you awake, mister.” A voice spoke as she moved the light away from him. As his mind began to clear slightly, he recognised the voice.

The man blinked, his eyes opening wider. “…Vira?”

“Mhm! Though I prefer Connie when I’m not out and about trying to, yknow, steal people.” Connie smiled, waving her hand around with vague gestures.

Memories of before he passed out came flooding to his brain, sending a rush of adrenaline through his system.

“What did you do to me? Where am I?!” He yelled, trying to make eye contact with Connie, but failing as she left his vision.

“Hey, hey! No need to yell! You’re just in my operating room.” She paused for a second “…I’d day you’re in good hands but knowing my track record with these things you absolutely aren’t.”

“Say, why don’t we play a game?” She spoke quickly after finishing her last sentence, as if trying to pretend she didn’t say anything. “I put you through hell until you give up being Ruler of Everything, and we see how close to death you get before you do!” Her smile was evident in her voice. “Or you can just give up right now, but where’s the fun in that?” She chuckled lightly

“Oh yeah! Be glad I didn’t remove your eyepatch. Well, I did for a second. Put it back cause it’s like… really gross under there, you know that?”

“You… What-?” Shame and rage washed over him, for a split second it felt like he wanted to curl into himself in some attempt to somehow hide himself. Instinctively, he tried and failed to cover his eyepatch with one of his hands.

Yes, he knew it was disgusting, he *lived* with it. The way she tried to tell it to him like he didn’t know made him want to rip hear skin off.

She smiled wickedly. “What did you not hear me or something?”

Just as Nightsky was about to speak, she interrupted. “Whatever. So what’s it gonna be, mister?” She asked as she opened various cabinets and drawers around the room for “medical tools.”

Despite his more sensible side telling him to just give up right then, and kill her when he’s out, his ego decided to play the long game. “Neither. You won’t be able to get much done before somebody comes searching for me.” He put on a fake, albeit convincing smile despite wanting to rip Connie’s own left eye out.

“Aww is that true? What about- Oh! You remember that one time you got so sick you nearly died and nobody knew for an entire week because everyone just thought you were having another episode?” She spoke from far beyond anywhere he could see.

His eyes widened, taking a second to respond “How did you-“

“Was all over the news! I’m surprised you didn’t know.” She interrupted. “I know so much more about you than you’ll ever be able to guess, sweetie.”

“Don’t call me that.” He hissed

“You’re not in any position to be making demands of me,” She interrupted, furrowing her brow as she pushed a cart next to the operating table the man was strapped down to. She picked a hair tie from her pocket and held it in her mouth as she grabbed a bunch of her hair, “Sho, rdy to get shtarted?” She pulled the hair tie from her mouth and tied her hair into a bun.

The man began to feel slightly nauseous. Nothing had even happened yet, why was he already feeling like this, he was stronger than this. He felt like an idiot.

“Gonna take that as a yes!” She smiled, picking up a small scalpel from the large cart in front of her.

Dramatically she raised the scalpel high above the man’s right bicep and slowly brought it down to touch his skin.

The contact from the blade made him shiver.

“We haven’t even gotten started yet and you’re already shivering, that’s just adorable!” She laughed at him.

“Shut. Up-“

He was cut off by Connie slicing the blade into his skin, causing him to tense up and inhale sharply through his teeth.

“Yknow,” She spoke, pushing the scalpel deeper into his muscle, taking his sweet strained groans of pain. “for someone like you I expected more of a challenge. To snatch you, I mean. You didn’t even have anyone there with you! How sad is that.”

She release the blade from his skin for a second before stabbing it directly down into his arm, causing blood to splatter all over her hand. He moaned loudly in pain, tears springing to his eyes, his breathing began to quicken.

“Oh that sweet, sweet noise~” She smiled wickedly, watching his open wound bleed around the scalpel and drip down his arm. Letting go of the scalpel, she grabbed a small glass bottle of sea salt from the tray next to the table. Taking the cork from the bottle, she hovered it over the wound, looking directly into Nightsky’s eyes, still smiling.

Nightsky looked at her through the involuntary tears in his eyes and froze a bit.

“No-“

“Hmmmm sorry what was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.” She taunted, dangling the bottle of salt just over his bleeding wound.

Much to Connie’s dismay, he didn’t speak up. She frowned. “Cmon, you’re no fun.” she paused for a second.

“No, actually, thats a lie-“ she interrupted herself by pouring a decent portion of the salt into the gaping wound.

Nightsky yelled loudly in pain, all of his muscles tensing up as the salt absorbed the moisture inside his wound. “-this is a great time so far!”

Little “fireflies” began to circle his vision as he blinked away tears that trickled down into his ears.

“Stop- get- get the salt out-“ He hissed through clenched teeth. The tears in his ears muffling any sounds but his own voice

“What, you want me to dig it out with my bare hands? Ooh maybe I should.” She spoke, unaware all the man could hear was nothing but garbage noise.

Nightsky didn’t say a word, clenching his teeth and hands, trying not to feel the pain of the salt as intensely in any way he could.

“Now, I know we literally only just got started, but I’m giving you a chance to give up right now cause it’s only gonna get worse from here for you. I’m gonna be real upset if you agree because I’ve been waiting to do this for months, but I don’t want you to say no either. My own selfish desires or the sake of the world! So hard to choose, haha!” She said, still smiling gleefully.

The man didn’t respond, only trying to regulate his breath. Fear and embarrassment taking over his mind

“Aw, what? Run out of quips already? Looks like this is gonna be a standup comedy then.” Connie sighed disappointedly, ripping the knife out of his arm. The man let out a strained groan of pain once again and slowly began to speak. “If… if you think.. that’s going to get me to back down… you’re wrong.” He took a deep breath, composing himself and bracing for anything that could come next. He wouldn’t let her get him vulnerable again. Not as long as he was trying his hardest.

“Ooohhh, so you didn’t run out! Looks like this’ll still be fun!” She chuckled, lightly dragging the scalpel down his arm to his wrist.

“Damn. Tied your wrists down the wrong way. Uhhhhh, alright I’m gonna unrestrain your wrist for a sec. Don’t move okay?” She paused for a second. “Who am I kidding you’re gonna move anyways.”

She unfastened the leather straps holding his wrist and forearm down and quickly backed away from him, which was the right call for her because as soon as he was free, he reached for whatever he could grab on the large tray cart next to him. He grabbed whatever he could reach and held it out towards Connie, not even registering what it was until a few seconds later. A butcher knife. The man stared in horror at what he held in his hand.

“Come on, that was supposed to be a surprise, y’know?” She smiled dissapointedlu, not threatened by the knife in her face at all.

“You. What kind of sick shit are you into.” He glared at her, furious.

“Nothing that sick, just justice! And torturing people, obviously, but like what does that matter.” She paused. “Oh, that matters a lot to you right now doesn’t it?” She laughed. “Whatever! I gotta take care of that loose arm of yours and I know just the solution. E-let-tri-ci-ty!” She spoke, saying the last word in a sing-song tone.

Before the man could react, she ran over to a lever behind his head and yanked it down, sending high voltage electricity into the metal operating table. What felt like burning lightning coursed all through Nightsky’s body, causing him to scream in agony, all his muscles tensing as much at physically possible. The tears from his eyes conducting the horrible sensation directly into his ears.

Connie, however, was struggling to get the lever back up again to shut off the electricity.

“Fuck- Just give me a second I’m trying to turn it off!” She yelled out over his screaming. “Please don’t let this be the way he dies that would be so annoying, please.” She whispered to herself and she struggled to push the lever back up.

The man felt himself on the verge of passing out, spots of white lining his vision even as his eyes were shut tight. He could feel his hearing begin to disappear.

Unfortunately for him, just as he was about to get some sense of freedom via passing out or worse, Connie flipped the switch back up with a loud yell of exertion.

The man’s ears rang loudly as he felt his body twitch and writhe. It was the only thing he could hear. He felt numb. He couldn’t move, other than through the various muscle spasms all throughout his body.

Connie sighed loudly. “JESUS. Note to self, don’t use that unless I want to instantly kill you.” She spoke as she walked back to the side of the metal operating table the man lied upon, plucking the knife from his clutched hand.

“Try not to move right now okay? You’ll only make things worse for yourself, and I’ll have to electrocute you again.” She flipped the butcher knife around in her hand. “Or I could cut your arm off.” She spoke, looking into his glazed eyes, hoping to get a reaction out of the man. He didn’t respond. His body continued to twitch violently.

“Riiight.” She put down the knife on the tray and re-fastened the leather straps around his arm, this time making sure his arm was facing the right way up.

“Think I’m gonna have to call in Bliss on this one and call it a day. Can’t torture you if you’re not even fully conscious.” She sighed “I mean, I don’t think you are? You sure as hell aren’t responding to anything right now.” She waved a hand in front of his eye.

No response.

She sighed again and walked away from the metal table towards a counter behind her. She opened a drawer with a tray of poke balls inside and picked up one labeled “Bliss”. Closing the drawer, she threw the pokeball in the air with her other hand, and out emerged a Blissey.

The Pokémon blinked its eyes open, smiling when it saw Connie and running up to her for head pats.

“Hi Bliss!” She said in a high pitched voice, patting the Pokémon on its head with her non-bloodied hand. “Sorry, but you’ve got work to do again.” She smiled softly at the Pokémon, who frowned chirped sadly in response.

“I know I know, you’re supposed to be on break, but you’re the strongest Blissey I have, and this case is special! We’re gonna be at it for awhile, alright? I promise I’ll take out out for a vacation when this is all done okay?”

The Blissey took a second, but chirped happily at Connie. “Great! Now, I need you to use heal pulse on this man okay? I accidentally electrocuted him a bit too hard.” She drew out the last few words.

The Blissey waddled over to the table, but it was too high for it. The blissed chirped at Connie for help.

Connie looked down at the blissed and then at the table. “Uh, right, hold on.” Walking behind the table again, next to the electrocution lever, she looked at a large panel of controls, one of which being a slider to raise and lower the table. She lowered the toggle almost all the way down, causing the operating table to lower with it, allowing Bliss to preform its heal pulse. Green light emanated from its paws, connecting to the man’s body, and began healing him and his wounds.

Connie frowned seeing the wound on his bicep heal, but if it had to be done it had to be done, she’d just have to… not electrocute him in the future, atleast until she got the lever oiled up and fixed.

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year

Text

Little Darlin'

Media Godless

Character Whitey Winn

Couple Whitey X Reader

Rating Sweet + Cute

Concept The Fall

I finished tying my boots and headed off my little wooden porch into the dust and dirt of Labelle with the other ladies as I walked I heard a cocky tone

"Mornin' ladies." I glanced over seeing whitey Winn the deputy boy sat in his small wooden chair on the office porch clearly having been woken from a recent nap in the chair. His boots close to the end of the porch covered in a years worth of dust and dirt, his pants tight to his thin frame, his gun Belts sat crossed over his hips, his shirts so dirty I'm almost convinced you spilled a glass of water on them and left them in the sun a day or so they'd start growing shoots from within the fabric, his skin caked with dirt in various layers his hat sat on his head keeping the sun from his eyes he saw me looking and his lip curled up he moved a hand to the rim of his hat tipping it to me as he spoke "Hiya little darlin"

I rolled my eyes and continued walking, whitey knew I didn't perticularly like him Be honestly I don't think he perticularly liked me either being a dirty, sharp shooting cowboy and myself a pacifist and gardener with a cleaning compulstion. Natural the two of us wouldn't exactly see eye to eye over things didn't help we were the only two of a similar age, everyone else in town, old enough to be our parents or young enough to be our children.

I continued in until I reached the frame of the church hitching up my skirt and starting to work on the roof.

I did my work hammer in hand making sure the church was as good as it could be humming my little song as I worked, I set my hammer down a moment getting another nail from my box but as I went to grab the hammer it slipped and fell to the earth breaking the wooden handle and taking off the metal hammer as it hit the ground "ohh fiddlesticks" I sighed I turned trying to get back to the ladder to climb back down and get a new hammer but somehow my dress even though I had pinned it up considerably got caught on something not sure what, so as I tried to carefully walk away down the small wooden beam my dress tugged me back causing me to slip my dress to rip as I tumbled down from the top beam of the church following after my hammer. I screamed trying to grab for the beam but it was too late I knew I'd impact the ground soon and very likely crack my head open but i landed and immediately felt like nothing hurt

"Whoa whoa there. You alright little darlin?"

I opened my eyes and saw I wasn't actually on the ground, whitey Winn had caught me in his arms holding me close to him as a husband hold a new bride his arm under my knees holding my legs and the other around my waist keeping me in his arms my hands gripped onto his shirt tightly in my panic it was strange as much as whitey did annoy me and frustrate me it was a different feeling utterly to be held in his arms so sweetly my heart a flutter at the dirty cow boy as I saw him in a way I never had before sweet, careing, protective. He made eye contact with his face, reading genuine concern for me. And suddenly it all came together with what girls like about law men. The way he held me, looked at me, spoke to me the way his hat protected the sun from my eyes and his facial hair made him seem so much more manly and strong I felt butterflies in my stomach for the first time ever since knowing whitey Winn.

"Uhhhh yes. Yes I'm fine" I nodded trying hard not to blush "thank you whitey"

"No trouble little darlin, couldn't let you fall now could I?" He says "you ready to go down?" He chuckled

"Yes please" I smiled

So he gently lower my legs letting me stand being gentle and careful the whole time barely letting me hold my full weight making sure I was alright "there we go. You sure you're alright?"

"I'm sure." I nodded

"Okay then, you be careful up there I can't always be around to save ya" he joked "I'll leave ya to your work" he says tipping the brim of his hat to me before he wandered off into town, I straightened myself up and grabbed a new hammer heading back up the ladder.

I felt so nervous, so embarrassed about doing this but I don't know I couldn't help myself I knocked on the office door a few times holding my basket in my hand

"It's open!" Whitey called from inside so i pushed ooe rhe door snd headed inside seeing him sat at his desk reading the paper he glanced up at me and smiled as he usually did "AHH Hiya little darlin. Something I can help you with?" He asks setting the paper down on his desk and leaning in his elbows his chin in his hands

"I uhh I just wanted to pop by, I have something for you"

"For me?" He asks

I nodded pulling back the gingham cover to reveal the silver pan and small jars and I'd never seen him smile so widely his face utterly lot up

"Pie!"

"Blackberry and spiced apple pie" I smiled

Immediately he took it eagerly from the basket grabbing a fork from within his desk draw and immediately having some looking utterly smitten

"Ummm your pies are the stuff of legend little darlin" he says "ohh and some little preserves" he smiled spotting the jars getting them out to read the little labels "all this is for me?"

"Of course, as a little thank you for catching me the other day. When I fell from the church" I smiled

"Oohh. Aww that's sweet of ya" he smiled "Well thank you very much little darlin, I shall have to keep my eye out I'll catch ya again if these are my rewards" he smiled

"I'm sure you'd get lots more rewards if you did" I smiled "have a nice day whitey"

"You too y/n"

I quickly hurried out shutting the door behind me immediately being revolted by myself as I stood on the porch hand sweaty, stomach full of butterflies and heat in my cheeks uhhhhh god! It's whitey Winn! For goodness sake get a grip.

I smiled as I worked humming my little song as I collected eggs up from my many hens adding each fresh eggs to my basket with wipe on my apron in-between.

"Hello little darlin" I heard from the door making me immediately jump and blush as I turned seeing whitey in the doorway

"Ohhh hello whitey" I blushed

"You had a little escapist" he says holding one of my chickens "she's lucky I brought her back I was gonna make soup," he says

"Ohh thank you whitey" I smiled taking my chicken "silly Harriet go on now" I told her setting her back with the others "thank you for bringing her back"

"It's alright least I could do. I know you not found of me hurting them"

"Not perticularly no. I like my chickens." I smiled continuing my work as to distract myself and he even came around to help me reaching in the back of the box and under straw where I couldn't see

"I also like your chickens for very different reasons however" he says "oww!" He complained as hetti pecked his leg

"Understandable, they are delicious"

"I thought you wouldn't kill them?"

"I won't but sometimes one must when they get too old or too sick or if someone gets them" I glared

"I didn't mean to shoot the chicken, I was aiming for the wall" he says

"Still, she made good roast though"

"I can imagine so. In that note if you do have any eggs?"

"Course" I smiled sorting through the eggs into those I'd put back for future baby chickens and those I could sell to people in town as they had no baby chickens. I made him up a little box of those and handed them over

"AHH thank you, that'll keep me going a while" he says "here you go" he says grabbing the coins from his pocket which he handed over I counted up the coins and found he neede change and I didn't have any

"Ohh fiddle sticks. I don't have any change"

"Oh? Don't worry about it take it off next time"

"No no I'll forget" I sighed and suddenly I hatched a small plan "I can get you your change if you close your eyes" I smiled nervously

"Uuuuuuuhhh…okay?" He says clearly confused but doing as I asked anyway once his eyes where shut I blushed hard a moment for a second too nervous to even try but I stood in my tip toes and pressed a little kiss to his cheek I quickly moved away and focused on the chickens but I couldn't help looking out the corner of my eye as his eyes opened and he gave me a strange look the sort of look you'd give to a child you completely don't believe when there telling a lie "right" he nods with a smile "I'll see ya in town little darlin" he says taking his eggs and heading out shutting the coops door behind him

Immediately I turned bring red and giggly.

I stood humming my little tune brushing my horse Rosie as she stood in the labelle stables I wanted a stable of my own but given the chickens I didn't have the space so she had to stay in the stable with the fee other horses in town.

"Hiya little darlin" whitey smiled as he arrived to take care of his own horse ted who was up the other end of the stables from me

"Hi whitey" I blushed

"How's she doing?"

"Good, how's he?"

"Fine. You just keep that little lady of yours away from my stallion" he told me as he worked "I can't hold him"

"I will, then again it would give you opportunity to save me again"

"It would. If I was to save ya would I get one of your delicious pies?"

"Of course"

"Cut it out" he chuckled

"What?"

"Cut it out"

"Cut what out?"

"Quit being so damn nice to me"

"....uuhhh"

"You're not going to admit you've been a hell of alot nicer to me lately"

"No I've been as nice to you as I always have"

"You little liar. You hate me. And I don't know what kinda cruel game your playing but cut it out" he says

"I don't hate you whitey" I said coming over to peek into Ted's stable "I've never hated you"

"Really? You called me a gun toating moron"

"... you did shoot my chicken"

"You said I smelt like a prisoners unemptied chamber pot"

"... It was a very hot day and you hadn't had a bath in a week"

"I know why your being nice to me"

"You do?"

"Yes. And cut it out. It's a crush you'll get over it"

"Excuse me"

"You'll get over it. Your only being nice to me because you got a wave of adrenaline and fear when you fell off the church roof. It's a crush you don't actually like me you probably still hate me. It's a crush you'll get over it" he says

"Screw you whitey!"

"There's the harsh insulting I'm used to"

"How dare you tell me what's going on in my mind! Like you know! My opinions and emotions are my own and if I decide to fall madly in love with the gun toating rarely bathing deputy then god damn it that's my business!"

He was stunned for a moment utterly unable to speak. "M-madly in love?"

"Yes, you idiot!"

"You - you actually like me?"

"Yes!" I yelled grabbing his face and pulling his lips to my own initially he was in an utter panic for a moment but soon relaxed and wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me back softly till we pulled back

"You actually really like me? I really liked you, but I thought you hated me. and you being nice was some kinda horrible rug pull" He explained

"Of course not, I admit I never much liked you but after the church I saw you in a different light. I always thought you where a cocky asshole but you've been so sweet ever since. I really do like you whitey" I smiled nuzzling with his chest

"I like you too, did you maybe wanna pack up the horses and go on a little picnic by the river?"

"I'd like that whitey"

"Okay, come on little darlin' we get down there now we'll be able to watch the sunset" He smiled before giving me a little kiss

#tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #godless whitey win smut #whitey winn imagines #whitey winn smut #whitey #whitey winn imagine #whitey winn #whiteywinn

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megarywrites · 1 year

Note

Dino ask! :3 Deinonychus and I have to send my favorite dino: Ankylosaurus

thank you!!! under the cut because as usual, it got long lol

Deinonychus | share a scene with banter

She shifted, sitting now instead of squatting beside me, her arm braced somewhere behind me, our shoulders barely touching. I picked a few more othima. “I wish we had gotten to look around some more. It seems like a really charming place.” Smiling, I arranged the blossoms between my fingers, pinching the stems to hold them in place. “What were you and Ma laughing about? When I was outside?” “Oh, that.” She chuckled, and I looked up, slightly startled to find her face so close to mine. But she wasn’t looking at me. “She mentioned something about how you were never that eager to clean before, and I said that that hasn’t changed since you came to Katania.” “Hey, I keep my side of our room clean.” “If you want to call it that, sure.” The corner of her lips twitched up, her dimple appearing for a split second before her gaze flicked up to meet mine. We were already close. So close. Yet I wanted to be closer still. To let myself get lost in the depths of her eyes. Her attention lowered for a second, the very tip of her tongue poking out to wet her lips. My heart stuttered as her eyes captured mine again. What were we talking about? She looked away with a small smile, making to stand. “We should hurry if we want to make it back before supper.” I leaned toward her, missing the close proximity already. “Here,” I said, holding out the measly bundle of flowers to her. Solera brushed the seat of her kapta off before she collected the othima from me, her fingers brushing against mine. “Thank you, Thala.” Warmth washed over me that had nothing to do with the heat of the day.

Ankylosaurus | share some of your favorite descriptive text

The gap between the rock faces started to widen, an ever-brightening blue light welcoming us as we swam out into the open. My eyes widened and my mouth fell slightly open. A courtyard of a spiraling mosaic of green, yellow, and gray splayed out before us, clumps of bright green algae clinging to the faded stones like moss. Gardens of swaying red and yellow-green sea flora stretched out around the sprawling, airy palace up ahead. Deteriorating statues of once-noble dragons flanked the curved staircase leading up into the palace, the one on the left holding my attention until Mitha called out a greeting and waved to a cluster of mermaids within the garden. She didn’t stop to talk, however. Instead, she led me up into the dilapidated palace itself. The walls, where they still remained, possessed some of the grandeur of the former hall. Faded murals depicting an age long past adorned them. The pointed, arched ceiling was so vast that I had to squint to make out even the slender beams stretching between the patchy roof. Time and water had eroded the faces, wings, and tails of the stately columns that had been carved to appear like the dragons of legend. Broad arched windows sat between each of these, looking out over another courtyard, where deep reds and blues joined in the dizzyingly swirled mosaic. Another garden spilled out onto the courtyard, which was populated with many more mermaids, most of which were fawning over Kama. Her head was resting on the jagged edge of the courtyard, which dropped off abruptly into the deep sea. Her long dark body swayed lazily in the current until she rolled over on her side to let some of the mermaids pick off the barnacles stuck to her underbelly. “Thala.” I started at the sound of my mother’s voice, so taken with the bewildering, wonderful sight before me that I had forgotten about Mitha sharing her face and voice. I tore my attention away from the spectacle, looking over at her. “Come. I’ll show you where we rest.” She had to keep reminding me to follow her, as I constantly got distracted by the surrounding murals. Faded as they were, it was hard to make out the depictions. But, from what I could tell, it told the story of the dragons and their friendship with the humans—a story that barely persisted with the passage of time in Grea. I knew of it from tales Pa had brought back from other lands, but even then, my memory was fleeting. I was about to ask Mitha about it when I turned to find that we had reached the doorway that dwarfed both Mitha and I, and she chuckled as I looked up at it in awe. “It had to be this large so the dragons would walk beside their humans.” The courtyard filled with other mermaids and Kama laid to the right of us, and to the left, the garden. And beyond the garden, the thick strips of the algae forest danced in the current.

send me dinosaur asks?

#ask #wip: seafoam #excerpt: seafoam #mc: thala galanis #sc: solera aurado #idk if that counts as banter but it's very soft banter + an absolute unit of a simp: Thala alsdkjfa #sc: Mitha #sc: Kama #hopefully you don't mind a bit of dialogue with the description #i chose this passage specifically because of the history behind this particular location #i can't wait to reach in in my series (but i have to wait for several books until the time loop starts over again lol)

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therewasatale · 2 years

Text

confession

On Ao3.

Summary: "A monster who wants something that he can never get…"

Dense, dull thumping filled the silence of the barn. Thousands and thousands of raindrops kept the roof of the wooden building under siege. The sky roared and screamed, but despite its combined effort with the icy wind, neither of them were able to overcome the building that got in their way.

It had been able to stand for several decades. Its walls and beams must have been built by expert hands who wanted to make sure that the animals and feed would be safe from such thunderstorms.

At least that was Alucard's best guess. Although he would have never admitted it, he was grateful for the shelter. There was a battery powered lamp near his feet but the dim light only illuminated about a meter around him.

Not that the vampire needed it. With his eyes, he could perfectly make out every nook and cranny of the barn. The old walls were now dotted with blood stains and bullet holes.

Two vampires wormed themselves into the village where they were sent. He glanced for a moment at the collapsed and mutilated bodies.

The small village was soon transformed into their own little zombie homestead.

The vampire's face grimaced. Vampires, nowadays all sorts of creatures with long canines off call themselves that only to hunt for those weaker than themselves.

His hand tightened into a fist. Most of them just massacred everything and didn’t care about anything.

He let his fingers relaxes a bit. As If I was any better. The bitter thought ran through his mind.

He closed his eyes for a few moments and sighed. He heard the rain picking up even harder than before.

They'll be here for more than a few hours.

He was sitting on a wider straw bale in the company of Anderson. The priest hadn't said a word for a long time. He suffered dozens of gunshot wounds to his side and shoulders, and one of the vampire had tried to bite him.

Alucard glanced at the bayonets protruding from the wall. The skewered body of that particular vampire was barely visible from the blades. Then he looked at the man sitting in silence and felt really proud.

The priest with his back against the wall, breathed gently. Either the fight or the regeneration must have exhausted him, but at least he was alive, breathing, and sleeping.

"Look at that." Alucard chuckled softly as he leaned carefully next to Anderson. He could feel the dull thumping sound from the other side of the wood, but the center of his attention was fully occupied by the priest now.

He looked like a man, and an ordinary man at that. For a priest he might have been too tall, but regardless, no one could tell right now that he is the member of the Vatican's execution section.

With each breath, his eyelashes and sometimes his body trembled. Maybe he was dreaming.

"How many have seen you this way since you were alive?" Alucard watched the man with a soft smile. He seemed to be in a very deep sleep.

He knew very little about Anderson, much of his past was a mystery, and not even the detectives hired by Hellsing could find anything. And that, for some reason, bothered the vampire immensely. Not that he ever dared to delve too deep into that thought. He didn't see the point of it.

He glanced around the barn and sighed softly.

"Of course, I have to have feelings for an Iscariot."

He looked at Anderson again, but the man was still just slowly huffing in his sleep, and didn't hear the sudden confession.

"Integra was right." Alucard slipped his hands out of his gloves. "Maybe, I'm really an idiot…sometimes." He buried his long fingers into the priest's blond hair and just caressed his head for long minutes. He could fel the mark of a deep cut behind Anderson's left ear that went all the way back to the nape of his neck. With his fingers carefully circled the scar and leaned closer to the priest.

Anderson shuddered, opening his eyes, slowly.

And Alucard, for the first time in centuries, remembered what it was like when blood froze in his veins.

Their eyes met.

Outside, the rain was falling almost horizontally, the raindrops looking for new ways to get into every nook and cranny.

Alucard swallowed slowly as he gazed into the priest's blue eyes.

"I-" but he didn't have a chance to finish his sentence.

Anderson's eyes closed again he slowly leaned against him and began to take slow deep breaths again. The blonde locks of hair tickled the vampire's face with each breath.

"Ch." Alucard's red eyes could not compare with the crimson that spread through on his face, but it tried.

"Alright, sleep then." He muttered softly. "But when you wake up, don't you dare get uppity with me about it."

He swallowed, then pressed a small kiss to the priest's head.

"Mh, holy heavens." He giggled and rubbed his face into his hands. "I'm an idiot, aren't I? A monster who wants something that he can never get…" The grin, which didn't have much happiness to begin with, slowly disappeared from his face. "But, maybe, even monsters like me deserves some peace…" He lowered his hand and gently leaned his head against the priest's.

He listened quietly to the man's slow breathing after closing his eyes. He was sure the priest was going to make a fuss out of it and he might even have to fight him.

Alucard sighed softly and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

#hellsing #hellsing fanfiction #andercard #alucard #alucard x anderson #alucard fanfiction #alucard hellsing #alexander anderson #father anderson #copper

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waotzi · 2 years

Text

Imaginary House

Many unexpected things happened, I was just going with my heart. Not having clear directions, just a vague ideas of what I could do. I didn't plan for this to happen, but of course I had wished for an encounter with another. Over the years I have managed to somehow deal with my loneliness, even if it would come back ever so often. Creating a desire inside me to connect with another in a deeper way I had ever done before.

With no clear direction I simply let things happen as they are, and to my surprise I had met somebody. I had no expectations, surely no one would ever fall in love with me. To my surprise it felt like we had a genuine connection. I felt like she cared for me and showed me interest. After the first time we met, she had to go quite quickly and so I was left for a longing for her to return, writing her everyday. Waiting patiently.

She finally came and I felt like the Lord had finally blessed me. For some reason things were going well. I had never expected a relationship to come this suddenly and so lovingly. I had never met someone like you.

On top of the hill we started building our relationship. One beam at a time, bricks for the walls. It stood still and calmly, but rain was about to hit and we still had no roof. We got drenched, we had some differences between us, it felt difficult at first, we had to overcome our past that we were carrying with us. A baggage pulling us down. It was nothing severe, although having just met this person it felt like a tornado had hit me.

After the rain there was moments of sun again. A time to build and have fun. We had a lot of fun. We played outside, drove around. It started feeling less akward and we started becoming more comfortable with each other.

We returned home, this time closer than ever. A new place to build, but with every happy moment came another disaster, a trigger that made the sky dark and turned us into demons. Fighting through the night until there was no more energy to expend. Exhausted we lied there, cuddling. It was comforting that even though we had the tough times we would reconsile in our arms and forgive each other. It made me love her even more that we didn't just seperate when there was a conflict.

I settled down into a new place, closer to her. We started building it up. Making it comfortable for both of us. We could finally see each other more frequently. I started to feel like I had finally found someone, that my endless solo journey has come to an end and now there will be two of us. The two of us to venture out and make new experiences.

We went on a few trips, but one day when we returned the door was broken and the neighbours came in. It was a surprise to us and there was a lot of confusion about the place, wondering if we should go somewhere else. It did not take long for a wise woman to appear and calm our nerves. It was alright for now. We can continue here. We will see how it goes.

There were more challenges to come, but we kept going. Before I knew it the biggest challenge came upon us. There was another man. A shadow of the past following us. Taunting us in our new settlement. It was the biggest storm yet to come. The biggest challenge to face. A tornado hit us, and we got blown into the sky. With rage, fear, anger, sadness, angst, a confusion never felt before. We tried our best to land, avoiding the obstacles. Many things of the past that I didn't know came out. Twisted truths. Things I thought were not true. I was lied to and shocked at first.

We finally crawled back, the house barely standing. Bruises in and outside us, but we kept going and made the best out of the evening. Temporarily fixing the windows with whatever resources we had.

Sadly this was just the beginning of the end. She had to go. And I was left with a half broken house barley standing. I wasn't sure how to make it, luckily everday a pigeon would come. Leaving behind words of encouragment, until one day. I finally woke up.

There was never a house to begin with. The entire house was build on lies. The bricks were filled with sand. The beams filled with ashes. The whole house collapsed in an instant. Leaving nothing but the dust.

The whole time I was being lied to. I believed every word. I was so gullible to think we had a future. I was left with nothing but the most basic foundation with cracks going deep inside it. Breaking ever so slowly, becoming weaker each day.

I tried to understand. I wanted to forgive. I wanted to disbelieve. I wanted a lot, but I didn't want to let go. It was too painful for me. The night was the darkest I had lived through for a long time. I woke up still with nothing but a broken place. I kept trying to fix something, while she is gone, but no matter what I tried the cracks kept getting bigger.

It did not take long before the ground started to shake, breaking apart the last bits of stability. I wanted her to understand that I am in ruins, hoping that she would care. Begging for words of encouragment. But instead I was greeted with even more harsh words. There was only a single straw left, that eventually broke with her words of ignorance.

The ground is ruined, I am sitting on a rock. Left with nothing, but myself. No idea what awaits me. Anything could happen. For now I will stay still. Waiting for my next omen to appear.

It's been quite the journey, and many more to come...

#romance #drama

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nothingofvaluewaslost · 2 years

Text

STORY: The Doll Mistress

Dark fantasy. Celestine sees the rest of her hunting party captured when they dare themselves into the abandoned city in search for food. She has no choice but to follow and attempt to save them, even though it means stepping into the nightmare-shrouded Witch’s House.

If you enjoyed it, feel free to visit my Patreon.

The Doll Mistress, by Christina Nordlander

Normally, Celestine would never have gone so close to the witch’s house, but winter had made it hard to find anything to eat and they’d already exhausted the usual hunting grounds. She wasn’t alone, either, they were four in the hunting party. Among the others there was security.

The houses were taller and narrower in this part of the city, with pointy roofs against a sky of grey smoke. It couldn’t be long until dusk. Darkness hindered them no more than the cold, but if they hadn’t found any prey in the daylight, it was unlikely that they would after nightfall.

They sheltered in a portico with a door of heavy dark wood. Someone, probably another hunter, had made a few deep scores in the wood without breaking through. Celestine stood posted to keep watch against the street.

“What do you say to us having a go in here?” Doriak said to Lunula behind her.

Lunula sniffed.

“I don’t think there’s anything in there either, but we can try breaking a window.”

Snow had started falling in small hard flakes. Except for it, nothing moved. The windows around them were shiny and black like insect carapaces: windows with brittle mullions, windows with flaking white paint on the frames, several that were already broken. Once, all windows in this town had been lit at night. Had one of the older ones told her? They had beamed warm and yellow like the fires when you approached the camp.

Celestine’s gaze went to the pointy gable of the house across the street. There wasn’t much to distinguish it from the surrounding ones: it was a bit taller and all windows were whole. Nothing was lit inside, but that needn’t mean that they were safe. When people had warned her, they had said that all windows in the witch’s house had several layers of curtains that the witch pulled aside when watching for someone to lure. A little window on the end wall was facing them. You couldn’t make out any curtains in the blackness.

“We’ll give the window a try,” Doriak said at last. ”What have we got to lose?”

They’d found cans of food in houses before, sometimes with meat stew or fish-balls. They headed out in the street. If anyone was standing in the witch’s window she would see them, but nothing moved in there. Amyntas, the largest of them, wrapped the shiny cloth of his jacket around his hand and tried to break a pane, but his fist bounced back. He swore and brushed his dusk-blue hair out of the way when it blew in his eyes.

“Celestine, you want to go find something heavy?” he said.

She hurried left, away from the house, and into a side street. There were shops here, none that had sold food. Their display windows had been bashed in: perhaps by them, perhaps by the humans before they had fled. One cobblestone seemed to be lying loose between the others. She easily got her fingers into the cracks, but she could barely budge it. If she’d got it out, she still wouldn’t have been able to carry it back.

Something dark was lying further off on the pavement. She hurried to see whether it was a possible tool.

Doriak screeched.

She turned around. The wind whipped her hair in her eyes and mouth. It wasn’t just his voice any more. Some of the cries were deeper and had to be coming from humans. Something smacked into flesh.

The street was in front of her. She shrunk against a brick wall and crept closer. No-one would hear her above the noise. One of the human voices rose in a sharp falsetto, pain rather than anger. The voices died away, but now she could hear footsteps. They were heading towards her.

She could move. To the right of her was a shop window, just a black gap in the façade. She flung herself through it and stretched out flat on the ground in the shadows.

The footsteps were as distinct as if they were in the same room. The floor underneath her was linoleum tiles that were meant to look like stone. The shards she was lying on would tinkle if she moved.

Had the footsteps started to fade? After a few seconds there was no doubt.

It took long before she was able to get up. A shard had left a long gash in her palm, and perhaps she had more in her face where she couldn’t see them. She would be fine until she got back to the camp and could ask Papelarde to stitch them.

She got out through the window in one stiff-legged stride. Another shard had slashed her skirt; a long strip of skin-white fabric and lace fluttered when she got out in the wind. No noise was coming from the street.

She walked closer to the main street. The sound of her soles was loud against the cobbles.

There was nobody there. She even walked up to the doorway, as if they would have hidden there to rattle her, but of course it was empty. She stayed in the shade for a moment anyway, because in there she was out of sight of the window.

Something glinted on the pavement cobbles, colourless as glass. She got out in a few quick bounds and picked it up. It was a fingernail, maybe six centimetres long, slim and sharp like one of Lunula’s lock picks, spikily snapped in one end. It was impossible to tell whose it was.

She couldn’t throw it away. She put it in one of the pockets in her jacket, even though it poked out and might fall if she had to run.

The side street they’d come from was almost opposite her. Darkness fell quicker where the houses stood closer. Something drifted across the cobbles in the wind. At first she thought it was snow, but it was wisps of Lunula’s white hair. She was hungry. So far it hadn’t started slowing her body, but it made it hard to focus on anything else.

She squatted on the step, as if that would let her stay a little longer.

They weren’t dead. If the humans had killed them, they wouldn’t have taken their bodies; humans didn’t eat dolls. That meant that they were alive and in captivity. She straightened herself a little. Where would they have taken them? So much time had passed, and she didn’t even know which direction they’d gone.

It could only be the witch’s house. Many stories had gathered around it, of the same flavour: there was a being in there, perhaps a human, perhaps female, who lured dolls into her house.

She pressed herself closer to the door. From here she couldn’t see the window, so no-one would see her from there, but if the humans came back she would be trapped. Should she go back to the camp and get help? The question was whether anyone would be prepared to storm the witch’s house, even to save them. There had to be several humans in there. It took two or three dolls to bring down a single grown human; they had layers of brawn in their thick bodies. She listened, but there was no sound other than the wind.

Maybe she should go there on her own. The thought made her huddle up tighter, but she didn’t take her eyes off the gable. At any rate she wouldn’t have to return to the camp like this. If she wasn’t able to save them, she might be able to find where they were held, perhaps how many guards there were. She might be able to give them the message that help was on its way.

She would wait until it couldn’t get any darker. Humans saw badly in the night. The others must have some measure of safety for the time being: if the humans had wanted to kill them, they could have done so right away. She kept the thoughts off by watching for movement, but night fell and no-one came. The hunger had sunk to a stomach-ache that she could bear.

She slipped out of the doorway. She wasn’t going to walk up to the house underneath that window, no matter how dark it got. Instead she walked around the whole block and cast a quick side glance when she passed the street with the shop-fronts. There were no footsteps other than hers. When she was younger, the lampposts along the streets had lit up at night, with an orange light that gave no warmth, or was that something from a story that had mixed in with her memories?

The block was larger than she’d thought. When she emerged on the main street, she’d been worried that she wouldn’t find the house, but a couple of windows on the top floor were lit, an unclean yellow light. It was unlikely that anyone had seen her from this angle. She kept outside the light.

The houses out here were in rows, three storeys tall with pointy tiled roofs, with only the many front doors showing that they had been separate homes. She walked a bit down the road and stopped at the end of the row. Here, all windows were black. There was a drainpipe that would hold her weight. Climbing up and going across the roof was the best plan she had: if she tried to open a door or a street-level window, they would certainly take her as well. The witch’s window was on the top floor; perhaps it was possible to climb in. If she took that way in, she would at least not have to be in that house any longer than necessary.

The pipe held under her, but it was hard to get a grip on it. Her palms were so smooth they slipped on its surface. After a few tries she spat in her hands and tried again, and that gave a bit of grip. If she fell from this height she wouldn’t survive, but after a few more hauls she was able to pull herself onto the roof. The sky above her had cracks of deep blue between the clouds. Chips of white paint had stuck on her fingers. She picked them off.

Up here, the incline was no worse than that she could walk upright. Her shoes cushioned the sound of her footsteps so that they just tinkled against the tiles. She looked every way as she walked along the roof, but nothing moved except the clouds. There were chimneys, old and narrow, too narrow for a human to climb up inside them or for her to climb down. She didn’t have to think about what was in the darkness beneath the tiles.

A garret showed against the sky.

She crouched and snuck closer. No light fell out on the roof, but that didn’t mean there was no-one behind it. Even a human would be able to see her outlined against the sky. She supported herself with one hand on the side of the garret and looked in. There was someone in there.

She could barely hold the scream back. She was on the roof, she would only have to be strong enough to push a human over the side. Unless there were more? She looked again, but the figure hadn’t moved. It was just a cloth dummy, with a pedestal instead of legs and without features, pushed into a corner. The rest of the room slid into a pattern: the things in the pigeon-holes covering the walls were bolts of cloth, and more bolts were leaning against the corners. You couldn’t tell their colours in the dusk. There were piles of crates, probably of textiles or tools. The humans must have had a tailor’s shop here.

She had been in a fabric store once. The memory was distinct from everything else. The houses had been lit back then. She’d found a transparent plastic tube full of teal buttons, and mum had had to tell her to put it back. Had it been mum? The air had been thick with the smell of cloth, but she couldn’t remember what it had smelt like.

She shook her head until the memory didn’t bother her any more. The hunger had returned.

The window didn’t move when she pulled or pushed. It was possible that she could get a tile free and break the glass with it, but that would alert the humans even if she got away. If she found the room where they were held she would risk it, not until then.

Up ahead was another garret. She moved closer. This room was larger, with a cleared space around a worktable. There were no dressmaker’s dummies here, but several large objects hung on the opposite wall. She put her face close to the glass. Large sacks hung on the wall, turning it into an unnatural cluster. It was impossible to see how they were attached, perhaps they were nailed up. They seemed to be made of fabric of the same colour. Most of them hung slack, like cocoons after the butterfly had crawled out, but a few swelled with some contents.

“Cocoons,” she had thought. One of the full sacks twitched. The movement was so small she might have imagined it, but she had only waited a few seconds when it twitched again. The room was unlit and deserted. Perhaps she would make it.

It was a moment’s work to jiggle a roof-tile loose. When she got back to the window, it was still dark inside, lifeless except for the things that moved in the sacks. If she was going to free them she would have to have an idea how many sacks contained something alive, but she couldn’t stand to look at them. Better to do this before the fear reached her throat.

She slammed the tile against the glass. It whitened with cracks and shattered. There was a painful crash, but it died off and she couldn’t hear anything more. The broken pane was big enough that she would be able to crawl through. She looked down. The floor was bare planks. It wasn’t too high to jump, but high enough to make it difficult to get back up. That didn’t matter. She could push the table back.

Time passed while she was sitting like this. She put her legs through and let herself down into the dusk.

It smelled like fabric in here. It smelled like dust, if dust had collected in drifts for several decades. She crept across the floorboards as fast as she could without making noise. The closest sack was full. The opening was tied with just a nylon rope, but when she reached for it, the bag moved. An arm or a leg pushed against the cloth. It thudded against the wall.

If they heard her voice, they might make more noise. She grabbed the rope, but the sack rocked more violently and almost made her fall.

“It’s me, Celestine!” she whispered.

Could they hear through the cloth?

The knot was hard under her fingers. She couldn’t slip the loop off, she was going to have to untie it. Would it be quicker to cut? There had been some metal objects on a shelf.

The floor behind her creaked once. A sharp light fell on the sack in front of her. It blinded. She couldn’t bring herself to turn around, she crouched. Something crashed into the back of her head. For a moment all she could see was flickering light.

It might have been a long time before she realised that she was awake, because there was nothing to see. Discomfort brought her back to consciousness. She was dizzy. She couldn’t tell what was up or down. Was it from the blow? Now there was a pale light in front of her. It was a landmark. She tried to crawl, but something was in the way.

She lay caught in something thick. It pressed her knees against her chest. She was in a sack, and perhaps she wasn’t hanging straight. A wall was hard behind her back. She could breathe. At first it felt like something was blocking her air intake, but it was the itch of fibres in the air.

Her head was aching, a little core of ache that didn’t fade, but she was hardly seriously injured. If she got out of here, she would recover. Her hands were tied to an intertwined lump and wrapped in cloth. She couldn’t cut it with her fingernails. She tensed her shoulders and pulled until something clicked and slipped in her shoulder, but the ropes were hard as metal. The sack had to be tied above her. She could raise her arms and feel it through the cloth.

Someone’s footsteps creaked on the floor. It must have been in the room. She kept still and breathed as shallowly as she could manage. If they didn’t see her move, perhaps they would leave her alone.

Now there were voices. There was nothing else to do but listen. Humans spoke the same language as they, but with deeper and less distinct voices, as if large animals had learnt to growl in words. The cloth didn’t mute them.

“… with them if it fails?”

“Not to brag, Niklas, but the last few months I’ve been able to return all the ones we’ve been getting. I can’t imagine these will be any different.”

The second voice was slightly higher-pitched. Perhaps the first was a male and the second a female. The creaking had stopped.

“Do you want to watch?”

It was the female human’s voice.

“As long as it doesn’t bother you, yes. I want to see how it’s done. That way, maybe I can help out at some point in the future.”

The voice got hoarser, as if some fluid was collecting in his throat until he had to swallow.

“How long do you need?” he went on.

“That depends. A couple of hours at least. You stay as long as you want.”

Something blocked out the light. A few moments later it slipped to the side.

Something thudded violently, perhaps against the wall. A rope rasped brightly as it slid up, but her sack was still closed. Someone was trying to get free. She couldn’t hear any words, only growls as he fought, but it was Amyntas’ voice.

The noises got fainter. He kept screaming for a moment, then he fell silent.

She lay there for a long time. Time didn’t matter when you couldn’t move or see. Perhaps she had slept. Amyntas didn’t scream again. There were noises, the squeak of scissors, sometimes a creak that could have been a knife against hard wood, long periods of silence. Sometimes voices came through, but she struggled not to hear the words. She’d heard blows and thuds at the other end of the room, so perhaps Amyntas had been alive at that point. She tried to force the sack open again, but she couldn’t even see what she was doing with her hands over her head. Nothing gave. The humans didn’t react no matter how much she struggled.

The sack wasn’t uncomfortable around her. She had stopped feeling the pain in her head. The hunger grew and subsided again. She was still conscious, but the things she perceived made no difference.

Was there a new sound? She had the impression that someone had gasped or screamed.

“But he’s cured now, is he?”

“We’ll need to keep an eye on him for a while, but yes, he does seem to be. He’ll always look like what he was, but his mind is restored.”

It was the witch’s voice.

“How can that have cured him?”

“I don’t know myself how it works.” Her voice fell silent and returned. “I wish we had a biologist here. I don’t know what happens inside them, I just modify them… when you’ve modified them enough, the breakthrough comes. Each specimen needs a unique treatment… they don’t even need the same amount of time each time. No, I don’t think it’s anything supernatural, I don’t think they’re vampires or elves. But I don’t know how they work, I don’t know how the treatment cures them. Maybe one day we’ll know.”

New noises came, a clatter.

“Tell you what, I think I’ll have time for another one tonight. Please help me with the new one.”

The footsteps approached.

They undid the opening. The air became cold with new oxygen. When they pulled her out she twisted free and fell on the floor. She couldn’t crawl away before they grabbed her. The man –perhaps young, with the shaggy fur of a human male on his face- lifted her and pushed her down on the table.

The witch was there. She was a human, strangely, her body thick and clumsy like all humans. She was aged, with tightly wrinkled skin and a frizz of iron-grey hair. The only thing that made her into something alien were two oval sheets of glass, fastened in front of her eyes on thin metal rods. Her upper body was clad in a loose brown cardigan. The smell of dust and old textiles got stronger as she approached.

Her hand moved out of Celestine’s field of sight and came back with a rag. When the witch tried to force her jaws open, Celestine snapped after her hand and felt the salt prickle of blood, but then they stuck the rag in her mouth. She pushed at it with her tongue, but couldn’t get it out. The man held her down on the table and the witch moved around her, fastening straps over her arms and legs and tightening them.

“Celestine? Can you hear me? Don’t resist them. It gets better afterwards.”

It was neither of their voices. The witch had gripped her head, perhaps to strap it down as well, but she could still see a bit of the room: the sacks, a window where the room was a yellow reflection. Amyntas stood with his back against the window as if he’d backed as far as he could. The humans didn’t react to his presence. Many small things had changed about him: his dusk-blue hair had strands of silver tinsel, a row of stitches stretched across his forehead, his nails were removed or broken. His expression had changed.

“You needn’t worry,” the witch said over her. “Soon, she too will be cured.”

A strap tightened around her forehead. The witch stretched along the table and a pair of scissors glinted.

It didn’t hurt for more than a moment, but she was still conscious when the witch cut and sewed her skin and plaited new colours in her hair and carved the hard substance of her skull. When she took her eyes from the witch, Amyntas was standing next to her. His face was as white and hard as before, but more like that of a human.

THE END

#fiction #Dark_Fantasy #horror #dolls #post apocalyptic

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tahliafox · 2 years

Text

Focus on only me.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Your mommys always there to make you feel better.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Older!Natasha, parents best friend!Natasha, kissing, fluff, comfort, mommy!Natasha, innocent!reader, heavy praise, fingering, soft!smut

Words: 1107

Pearly, white snowflakes danced through the frosty air of a picture perfect winter in New York City. The orange glow that was being emitted from the slowly dying-out fireplace glowed across Natasha's face. Your stomach fluttered at the sight and a soft blush caressed your cheeks.

It was almost midnight when you gave up trying to sleep and opted to explore Natashas new apartment instead. She had promised your mom she would take care of you whilst they were away.

After around 10 minutes of looking around, you found her library. Dark, spruce bookshelves climbed the way up the emerald-painted walls. Each shelf was lined with a matching coloured velvet, then filled to the brim with books and decorations. A ladder was set on each set of bookcases’ so the books on the top shelves did not get neglected. Vintage lamps were dotted around the room strategically, each one glowing a golden-brown light. The roof was lined with old, derelict, wooden beams that blankets hung from.

Your eyes lit up, this was your in-person heaven.

You ran on the wooden floor to a little laminated piece of paper (on your tiptoes so the noise was minimal) which explained which genre of books were where. Knowing exactly what you were looking for, you ran over to the far bookcase, tucked into the left corner. Your finger caressed the spines of each book until you snatched one.

‘The secret history. Donna Tartt.’

You were unsure of how long you sat there alone, reading that book. However, when you got to page 139- smooth, pale, bare legs caught the corner of your eye.

Standing there with her arms crossed, lent against a bookcase and one leg slightly crossing the other was the older woman that you craved to be with. She had a sly smirk resting on her face and one eyebrow was slightly raised. How long had she been standing there?

“Enjoying your book, sweetheart?”

Your face immediately went bright pink, even the tips of your ears. You hid your face in your hands (your strangely large sweater really) slightly as a reflex. “I- uhm. I struggle sleeping in new places.”

Natasha stared at you blankly for a second before coming and sitting down next to you, her shoulder bumping against yours. “Why didn’t you tell me this before we went to bed?” she looked concerned and you squirmed under the attention.

“Didn’t want to be a nuisance.” You said quietly, the words being muffled by your sleeve. Natasha frowned and took the side of your face in her hand, forcing you to look at her. Completely melting into her touch, your mouth dropped on slightly and her thumb came to rest just underneath your bottom lip.

“You could never be a nuisance, honey. Please, please let me know when something is wrong. I always want to make you feel comfortable and good.” her voice was cracked and husky from sleep. Honestly, it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard. “C’mere.” she turned her body and pulled you to straddle her lap.

You wrapped your arms around her neck and put your face in the crook of her neck. She smelt like vanilla. Her big hands encompassed your waist and her lips came to your hair. For some reason, this made you start to cry. Your body shook with silent sobs and Natasha held you tighter.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Let it all out. It's ok, I'm right here.” She kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear whilst you sobbed. After you started to calm down, Natasha pulled you face out her shoulder and held it in her hands and wiped your tears with her thumbs. “What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?”

“Feel like my parents don’t want me. Don’t know why they left me for the whole of the holidays.” You whimpered. Natasha kissed your nose then nuzzled hers against yours. She didn’t move her face away and rested her forehead against yours.

“You don’t need them, baby.” she smiled. “Not when you have your mommy right here.” it was the first time she had called herself that outloud and your mind went empty and numb. Nervous to see your reaction, she pressed her lips against your slightly damp ones and started peking them.

You parted your lips again to let her start kissing you properly and dug your fingernails into the firm muscles on her shoulders. The kisses started to get hotter, until she got impatient and sucked your bottom lip into her mouth. Your tongue unconsciously darted out between her parted lips.

Whilst you were making out, her hands moved down from your face to underneath your sweater. Her stiletto acrylics scratched against your sensitive skin, causing red marks to appear in the path up to your boobs. She gently groped you and moaned at the feeling of your whole chest fitting into the palm of her hand.

Her other hand kept on the side of your face, nails slightly sinking into your skin. Half moon shapes temporarily marked your skin.

She pulled back and swallowed, looking into your eyes. “Can you focus on your mommy for me? Keep focusing on how I make you feel, baby. All this hurt is going to go away. Mommy can always make her sweet, little girl happy, can't she?” her sickenly sweet words echoed in your brain and you nodded. Always.

Her hand that was one groping your tits moved to palm you inside your loose shorts. “That's it, princess. Keep looking at mommy.” your eyes didn't leave hers as your mouth parted and faint gasps of air were pulled through them. She kept on rolling her middle finger directly over your clit.

Moans started to fill the library as she rubbed her fingers over your underwear. “Mommy loves it when you're all sweet for her. Always so eager to please. You’re doing so well, baby. Making mommy very proud of you. Such a good girl. Are you getting close for me?

You nodded and fluttered your eyes shut. She took this as an opportunity to start kissing your lips again but you struggled to kiss back, moans slipping out of your lips every time she touched you. The knot in your stomach got tighter and tighter and she kept using your mouth. Breath’s were getting pulled in quicker and your hips started to twitch against her hand, until finally the knot released. You squealed and Natasha smiled against you, feeling the sweet, wetness seep through your underwear.

“That’s it, my good girl. You’ve doing so well cumming for me. I'm so proud of you baby.”

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #older!nat #mommy!nat #mommy natasha #mommy k!nk #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #older natasha romanoff #older!natasha romanoff #mommy natasha romanoff #tahliesfics

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katethewriter · 2 years

Text

Wish We Could Be Like That

Part Two

Pairing: WandaNat x fem!Reader

Words: 5k~

Summary: Your relationship with Natasha and Wanda is a secret, but does it have to be?

Based on the song “Secret Love Song” by Little Mix

Warnings: curse words, sexual themes, implied cheating, everybody’s mean to Reader, rushed writing

A/N: hi friends, sorry this is later than I wanted to drop it. I was doing my last read through and decided to completely scrap and rework and entire scene. Not sure why I’m so much more nervous posting this part than I was with part one. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

********Font Cheat Sheet:********

~Song Lyrics~

*thoughts*

Dream Sequence

**********************************

Part One Part Two Part Three

~When you call her name...

...like you do when you’re with me~

It’s a lazy afternoon.

Most everyone is out of the compound, on missions or running errands. So no one noticed the three of you hide away in Wanda and Nat’s shared bedroom all day. It started with watching a movie, but roaming hands and stray kisses quickly distracted the three of you.

As it got later, Wanda volunteered to get dressed long enough to go grab something from the kitchen, allowing you and Nat to lay around the room.

“Say it again,” you lie face down on the bed with Wanda’s pillow beneath your head.

Behind you, Nat delicately runs her fingers along your bare back, every now and again her fingers circle a purple mark left by one of them.

“Say what?” her touch ghosts over a particularly dark mark.

“My name.”

She smiles, “Y/n.”

“No, say it like you did earlier…” …*like you say Wanda’s* you think to yourself.

Her movements halt. Silence hangs in the air. Her brain calculates, trying to decipher what it is you’re asking for. You worry you’ll have to explain what you mean, and you know you won’t be able to voice it. Luckily, it clicks in her mind, and she resumes tracing patterns onto your skin.

“Y/n”

Her Russian inflection rolls off her tongue and wraps around the name. You hum happily.

Both of your girlfriends have lost their accents completely. Wanda’s Sokovian dialect comes out occasionally when she’s upset or sleepy. Natasha’s never slips, except for one place. You’ve only ever heard it twice before today. Both times three of you were in bed. Both times she was saying Wanda’s name.

Earlier today, she called your name in that way for the first time.

Natasha leans down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Y/n,” she says it again in, before pressing her lips to your skin again, “Y/n.” She continues this way across your back and up to you neck.

You wonder if Natasha noticed that today was the first time. Did she know that one word stopped your heart and gave it a reason to beat at the exact same time?

“What are you thinking about?” she whispers against your ear.

You turn over to find her looking down at you. The evening light reflects off her red hair. She looks like an angel. You reach up to play with her hair delicately, “you.”

One corner of her mouth curls into a half smile, “good things, I hope.”

You nod, smile beaming, “all good things.”

~does it feel the same?~

The elevator rises several floors before coming to a halt. The doors open, and the rush of cool night air indicates you are on the roof. Your girlfriends blindfolded you in the hallway outside your room. When you asked where they were taking you, they would only say it’s a surprise. Wanda and Natasha gently lead you out of the elevator, one holding on to each hand. “Are we there yet?” you ask, taking very hesitant steps forward.

“Almost malyshka,” Natasha chuckles.

Exactly 22 steps later, (and yes, you counted), they bring you to a stop. “Ready?” Wanda asks. The excitement in her voice brings a giddy smile to your face. You nod quickly, and she removes the blindfold.

You have to blink against the lights for a moment until your eyes adjust. Once they do, your breath hitches in your throat as you take in your surroundings. You stand in the middle of the compound roof top garden. It is decorated in candles, flowers and fairy lights.

The way it had been the night Natasha proposed to Wanda.

You weren’t there that night, but you’ve seen the pictures. You memorized everything about that night, from the decorations to the dresses they both wore. Secretly, you’ve always wished you could have been there, been a part of it somehow.

If only you had met them sooner…

Off to your right side, you see all of your friends and family. The whole team is there looking at you with happy smiles and eyes full of excitement. A few of them are holding out their phones, pointing them in your directions. Whether they’re taking photos or videos, you have no idea.

“What’s going on?” you turn back to your girlfriends to find them both kneeling on the ground in front of you. Natasha takes your hands into hers. Your eyes fall on the small velvet box that Wanda presents to you.

All words leave you. You can only stare in shock as they both smile up at you.

In an instant, the image is gone. Everything goes black and you jolt awake. It takes you a moment to orient yourself. You relax as you remember where you are: lying in your girlfriends’ bed.

The picturesque scene on the rooftop was merely a dream.

~Would you leave if I was ready to settle down?~

You don’t remember when you fell asleep, but you wake half on top of Natasha with your head resting on her chest. Wanda lies beside Nat, facing you. Her head rests on Nat’s shoulder, and her arm is draped across you. You can feel her quiet breaths across your face. You lie there.

An ache quickly builds in your chest as you think of the dream you just woke from.

They were proposing …in front of everyone you know. Their faces filled with pride, unafraid to love you and let it be known. It was perfect.

...well it would have been.

But it was just a dream, and it shakes you to your core.

You’ve been together over six months now, and you had yet to tell anyone. You had to sneak into their room to even be here right now.

You glance to the clock on the bedside table to check the time. 3:54 am. Your heart drops. In six minutes, the alarm will go off, signaling it’s time for you to leave. At 4:30, Steve will come knocking gently on the door for his and Nat’s usual morning run. You have to be gone by then.

A lump forms in your throat as your emotions overwhelm you. Keeping your relationship a secret from everyone you know has become exhausting.

You love the two women lying beside you.

You love them with everything in you. Even though you haven’t said those three words to each other yet, you know that you are in love with them. You’re not sure how much longer you can keep that a secret.

Your emotions get the upper hand. Exhaustion gathers in your eyes, and despite your best efforts, the tears fall.

You do everything you can to keep your breathing even, so you don’t wake your girlfriends. You do well for a while, but your lungs ache for a real breath. You lose your resolve, and a shaky inhale claws its way down your chest alerting the assassin beneath you. She’s pulled from her sleep, but doesn’t open her eyes, expecting to slip back into unconsciousness quickly.

It takes Natasha a just a moment to realize you’re awake. You’re breathing gives you away. When she feels liquid pool on her chest and roll down her skin, she realizes not only are you awake… you’re crying. She abandons sleep immediately.

“Dorogoy, what’s wrong?” Nat looks down at you, running her fingers through your hair to offer any comfort she can. When you don’t respond, she racks her brain for an answer, “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

You shake your head slightly. “No, just a dream,” you fight the lump in your throat, and more tears slip down your cheeks.

Wanda hums, awoken by your voices. When she peaks through half opened eyes, the first thing she sees are your red puffy eyes.

“It was a really good dream,” you whisper.

Now fully alert, Wanda reaches to wipe away your tears, “then why are you crying?”

You look up. The concern on both of their faces is almost enough to make you crack. To tell them everything, but you don’t.

You don’t answer her… because what if they’re not ready for that? What if they’re not ready to tell everyone that you’re together? What if they’re not ready to love you the way they love each other?

There’s only one way you’re getting out of this conversation, and you know it.

You smile toothlessly. Locking eyes with Wanda, you lean in to capture her in a kiss. You start off slow. Her movements are hesitant. Clearly, she is still concerned, but cautiously follows your lead. When you swipe your tongue across her bottom lip, she opens for you. Once you deepen the kiss, she threads her fingers into your hair. You shift to lean closer to her. In your movements, you slip one leg between your other girlfriend’s thighs. As you pull Wanda’s lip between your teeth in the way you know will make her melt, you press your knee to the Natasha’s center at the same time. They both moan.

If they realize what you’re doing, they don’t stop you.

You smirk in satisfaction. Breaking the kiss with your Sokovian girlfriend, you turn to the Russian beneath you. Wanda instantly starts kissing her way from your shoulder to your neck throwing her arm over your waist. You kiss Nat’s lips for only a moment, before trailing kisses down her jaw to her neck. Her hands tug on your hips, pulling you to grind down on her-

The ringing of the alarm clock on the bedside table halts all three of your movements. Time for you to go.

You pull away from Natasha’s neck to rest your forehead on hers. She sighs and Wanda’s weight sags against your side. With a kiss to the Russian’s lips and the Sokovian’s forehead, you begin to roll out of the bed.

“I gotta go,” you whisper sadly.

Wanda’s hand on your wrist stops you from standing from the bed, “Detka stay.”

“I’ll see you at breakfast.” You kiss her hand, and she lets go reluctantly. With one last smile to your girlfriends, you slip out of their shared bedroom.

The walk back to your room is quiet. It always is at this time in the morning, and you’re grateful. It means you don’t have to hide the tears.

~I can’t stop the silent tears from rolling down~

You spend the next hour crying, and the hour after that trying to hide the signs that you’ve been crying. You take a shower, wash your face, put on some make up trying to cover your red and puffy skin. Once you’re presentable, you decide to join the rest of team for breakfast.

Walking down the hallway to the kitchen, you hear footsteps behind you. Yelena walks past, purposefully brushing your shoulder with hers as she continues down the hallway.

Wanting answers, you follow the younger widow.

“Ok, you’ve barely spoken to me in months, Yelena. What is wrong?” you ask, but she keeps walking away from you. “Do you have a problem with me? Did I do something?”

“Yeah, my sister.”

She turns and gives you the same icy glare she has for a while now.

“What?”

Yelena straightens her back and squares her shoulders, “you asked if you did something… yes, you did… my sister.”

You stand shellshocked. Your mouth hangs open, as you try to figure out what to say.

The blonde doesn’t give you a chance, “I’ve seen the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. You two sneak around like no one’s watching. You’ve been hooking up, haven’t you?”

She raises an eyebrow, daring you to tell her she’s wrong.

You can’t lie. She’s a highly trained assassin and has been since she was six years old. She’d see right through you instantly.

You can’t tell the truth either. You haven’t discussed that with Nat and Wanda. Even if you could tell the truth, you doubt Yelena would believe you anyway.

When you don’t say anything, she scoffs, “Natasha is an adult. She can make her own decisions. I love my sister more than anything, and I will stand by her forever. If she wants to cheat on Wanda, that’s on her. But I want nothing to do with the homewrecker that ruined the first good relationship she’s ever had.”

The term hits you like a slap to the face. Is that what you are? A homewrecker?

“So yes, something is wrong. Yes, I have a problem with you,” the blonde takes another step until the two of you are face to face. “…and since you can’t seem to stay away from Natasha, stay the hell away from me.”

She storms off down the hallway before you have a chance to say anything… but honestly, what would you even say?

The last thing you want to do is follow Yelena into the kitchen, but you promised your girlfriends they would see you there. So you follow anyway.

~You and I both have to hide on the outside~

When you enter the kitchen, you find most of the seats are already taken. At the largest table, Natasha and Wanda sit with a few others. The table’s only remaining seat available is beside Nat. You lock eyes with the red head, and you know she has saved it for you. Despite your horrible morning, your lips curl into a genuine smile. You choose to focus on the warmth in your chest instead of the cold thoughts in your mind.

In the time it takes you to grab your breakfast and turn around, your seat is no longer available. Bruce has claimed the seat for himself. Natasha is turned the opposite direction talking to Wanda, so she doesn’t notice until its too late to stop him.

Internally, you deflate instantly. The heavy feeling returns, and you accept the fact that you won’t get to eat with your girlfriends. You begin walking towards a different table, but barely make it half way.

“Y/n,” Natasha calls out to you. You turn to see her dragging a chair from another table. “Bruce, scoot over so y/n can squeeze in.”

Bruce looks up confused, “Why can’t she just sit at another table-“ Nat kicks the leg of his chair, and he is quickly pushing his chair away, “ok, ok, I’ll scoot over.”

The assassin sets the extra chair down beside hers and waits for you to sit down. She pushes your chair in for you. You can feel the heat in your cheeks at her gesture.

The feeling lasts for less than a second.

You look up and see Yelena sitting directly across from you. Her face remains neutral. She’s concealing her hatred of you from the others. Though she lifts an eyebrow, signaling to you her disapproval.

Suddenly, you feel small and hyper aware of every interaction. Anxiety twists your stomach to the point that you are no longer hungry. You force yourself to take a bite every now and again. Mostly, you just push the food around on your plate mindlessly.

At some point, Natasha must have sensed your unease because she places her hand on your knee underneath the table. Instantly, you freeze. You didn’t realize that you had been bouncing your leg, until it stopped.

Normally, you yearn for her and Wanda’s touch constantly. It brings you comfort, but now it just heightens your anxiety. With Yelena sitting in front of you, it feels like you’re doing something wrong.

“Earth to y/n.”

You look up.

You hadn’t even realized Nat had been calling your name, trying to get your attention. She looks amused, but you recognize the hidden concern in her eyes, “you ok? You’ve barely eaten anything.”

She retracts her hand from your knee. Although no one can directly see it below the table, others are focusing in on your conversation, and she doesn’t want to chance it. You miss the contact instantly despite your anxieties.

You glance past Nat and find Wanda looking at you with similar concern, though hers is not really hidden. A glance around the table shows that almost everyone is now waiting for you to answer.

You smile and shrug casually, “yeah, I’m fine. I guess I’m just not that hungry today.”

For the most part, everyone seems satisfied with your answer. Conversation picks back up, and the attention is off of you. Both of your girlfriends remain focused on you a moment longer than everyone else.

To avoid their gaze, you look back at your plate, but know you can’t stomach any of it at the moment. Quietly you stand, and go to put away your dishes.

*Detka?* you hear Wanda’s voice in your head. You look across the room, and she is looking down as she eats from her plate, acting as though your exit hasn’t affected her as it has, like she isn’t speaking to you in your mind right now.

You continue putting your plate away, *I’m gonna go on a walk.*

*Are you ok?*

When you look up this time, she is looking at you. You breathe a sigh of relief,. So you do matter...

You give her your best smile, *yeah, I’m fine… just wanna get some fresh air.*

You don’t give her a chance to reply as you walk out of the kitchen.

~where I can’t be yours...~

Wanda bounds into the living room, making her way directly to you. She settles on the couch next to you with a bowl of popcorn in her lap.

It’s movie night, and since Natasha won’t be returning from her mission until tomorrow, Wanda is left without her usual cuddle buddy. Luckily, that means you get to fill in. Your girlfriend is a naturally cuddly person. She has been since long before you joined the team, so no one bats an eye when she throws a blanket across the two of you.

Its Sam’s turn to pick, and of course, he chooses a horror movie. This is great for you because you love horror movies, and Wanda hates them.

Five minutes into the movie, she grips your arm tightly. As the movie progresses, she inches closer and closer until she is pressed flush against your side. Several times, a jump scare will get the better of her. All you can do is laugh as she buries her head into your shoulder. By the end, she is so scared that she demands the next movie be a romcom, so she won’t have nightmares tonight.

You don’t notice exactly when it happened, but you’re suddenly aware of Wanda’s head resting on your shoulder. You look over and find her fast asleep. Your smile is involuntary. All you can focus on is the love you feel for her swarming your heart. Without thinking, you lean down and kiss the top of her head before you realize what you are doing.

You quickly look up to scan the room, hoping no one saw your slip, but no one is looking. The dark room seems to have given you enough of a cover to evade anyone’s attention. You relax at the thought. Cloaked in the darkness, you rest your head on Wanda’s.

When the movie ends, everyone decides to call it a night. Bucky offers to carry Wanda back to the room she shares with Nat. You want to tell him no. That you’ll just stay out here with her until/if she wakes up, but you know that would look suspicious. You hold still as he gently lifts your girlfriend and carries her out of the room.

Getting up, you decide to pick up the living room before heading to your room. You’re trying to kill time, making sure everyone is settled in their rooms for the night, so you can safely slip in to join Wanda, so she isn’t alone.

Wanda hates sleeping alone. You do too, but you have to, so you’re used to it. She always has Nat, except for nights like tonight. Once the coast is clear, you head for their door.

The hall is dark as you make the same late night walk as always.

Suddenly, a painful grip surrounds your bicep. You’re pulled harshly to the side until your back hits the wall. All you feel is pain.

“Fuck,” you grimace. You look up to see who has stopped you, “what the hell Clint?”

The archer’s entire body is tense with anger. His stare is icy enough to make your skin crawl. “You know, I could ask the same thing,” his tone is low. “What the hell do you think you’re trying to pull with Wanda? Nat’s gone on a mission, and you think that you can shoot your shot?”

“I-I’m not trying to pull anything with Wanda,” you stutter despite yourself.

“Don’t give me whatever ridiculous excuse you’ve come up with.” He lets go of your arm, but you don’t dare move. “I know what you’re doing. Wanda’s too sweet to say anything, so I will. Back off. She is engaged if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” He towers over you, “because it certainly doesn’t seem like it. I see the way you look at her. I saw you kiss her in there after she fell asleep and you thought no one was looking.”

You hide the shock as well as you can. With faux confidence, you square your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking abou-“

Clint interrupts you, shaking his head, “Cut the bull shit, y/n. Nat is my best friend. I trust Wanda not to hurt her, but I don’t trust you.”

That cuts straight to your soul. Your girlfriend’s best friend doesn’t trust you… maybe he’s right not to…

“You’re still new here,” he continues.

That’s not necessarily true. You’ve been an Avenger for well over a year and a half. Peter had joined the team well after you, and he is no longer considered ‘the new kid'. However, you know that now is the absolute worst time to correct him.

“You have no idea how long its taken for her to forgive herself for the wrong she’s done. How hard it was to convince her she deserved something good in her life. She is finally happy. They’re both finally happy. Who do you think you are trying to break that up?”

You know it’s a rhetorical question. Still, you want to respond, to defend yourself. You want to tell him you’re not trying to break them up. You want to tell him that you love them both from the bottom of your heart and would never do anything to hurt them or ruin your their relationship. You don’t want to take their happiness. You just want to share in it, add to it.

But you can’t say that.

“If you wreck the best thing to ever happen to her, so help me…” He leans in to whisper in your ear, “one day, one of my arrows just might miss.”

Chills run down your spine because you know its not just a threat. It’s a promise.

He leans away from you, and his eyes bore into yours, “Wanda is off limits. Got it?”

You don’t respond, mainly because you don’t know what to say. So, you just clench your jaw and try to walk past him.

Clint grabs your bicep the same as before and pushes you against the wall again. Only this time, the impact was much harder. If you didn’t have a bruise already, you definitely have one now.

He glares down at you, “am I making myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you mutter through clenched teeth.

Clint releases your arm and walks down the hallway. All you can do is watch his back as he goes.

You’ve never felt so alone.

~...and you can’t be mine.~

Half an hour. That’s how long you have been sitting in the study trying to write up your latest mission report. Half an hour, and all you have done is stare at a blank word document. You had hoped that coming in here would help you to focus, but the pain in your shoulder blade keeps you distracted.

The conversation (if you can call it that) you had with Clint last night plays on an endless loop in your head, and you have no way to stop it.

You’ve seen him get angry before, mostly on missions or during interrogations. But that anger was always directed elsewhere, at your enemies or occasionally at himself. This was the first time his wrath had been set towards you. The venom in his words cut deep, and you can’t help but question if there is maybe some truth to them.

Wanda and Natasha were perfectly happy for years before you came into their lives. You’ve seen the pictures. You’ve watched the video of Natasha getting down on one knee holding out a tiny velvet box. The smile and tears of joy on Wanda’s face when she said yes. You know that Wanda had already bought a ring of her own for Natasha. You’ve seen it on the assassin’s finger. Even though they tried to hide it, you’ve seen the folder where they had begun to plan their wedding. Their future had been set…

…and you weren’t in it.

Now you’re trying to insert yourself into that bond, cracking the foundation of their relationship. What right do you have to do that? You were lucky to have them as your friends. Why couldn’t you just be happy loving them in whatever capacity you could have them? Did you really need to threaten the bond they have with each other?

Friday interrupts the downward spiral of your thoughts. “Agent Y/L/N, Miss Maximoff has asked me to inform you that Agent Romonoff’s jet will be arriving in the landing bay in five minutes.”

Despite the dark thoughts in your head, the news cuts through it all and makes you smile. Natasha is home.

Immediately, you close your laptop and run to drop it off in your bedroom. You make it to the landing bay doors with a minute and a half to spare, but you never cross the threshold. Your feet are planted on the ground when you see the small group gathered.

Pepper waits to greet Tony, quietly conversing with Wanda. Yelena is the only one who can see you. The other two have their backs to the door. Your eyes lock with the blonde widow, and if looks could kill, you’re a goner.

Any joy you felt at your girlfriend’s return is washed away. You can’t welcome her with a kiss. You can’t hug her as tight as possible. With the look in Yelena’s eyes, even simply talking to Natasha feels like a bad idea.

You can’t go out there, and your lip quivers at the thought. Quickly, you turn on your heels and walk back into the compound.

You pray Natasha will forgive you.

~But I know this, we got a love that is hopeless~

As you make your way through the compound, you text Natasha telling her where to find you.

You decide to go sit on the roof. It’s quiet up there. It’s also the place where Wanda and Natasha asked you to be their girlfriend, so its special. Sometimes when your thoughts get a little too loud, you come up here. The memories ground you and rebuild your confidence in the relationship and your love.

You are lost in thought when you feel arms wrap around you from behind. You have no idea how long you’ve been up here, but it must have been a while. She’s had time to shower and change out of her uniform. Nat’s familiar voice echoes against your ear, “I missed you on the landing bay.”

Leaning back, you seek comfort in her embrace. “I’m sorry, I got distracted with mission reports,” you lie.

You don’t want to tell her the real reason you weren’t there to greet her. You’re afraid that if she knows about the tension between you and her sister, she’ll leave you for sure. And if Nat leaves, you’re certain Wanda would too.

“It’s ok,” she kisses the side of your head.

You release a shaky breath, which she picks up on instantly. She gently turns you to face her, “hey, everything ok?”

You smile sweetly at her, “I just missed you.”

A soft smile stretches across her face. “I missed you too,” she runs her hands up the sides of your arms accidentally brushing the spot where Clint grabbed you.

Involuntarily, you pull your arm from her touch.

No one knows about your little late night chat with Clint. You didn’t tell Wanda. Despite the perfect weather, you wore a sweater over your tank top to hide the fresh bruises that are still forming.

“Detka, what’s wrong?” the assassin retracts her hands.

Kicking yourself for making her worry, you quickly reach out for her, “its nothing.” You shrug playfully, “just a little sore.”

Green eyes stare into your own, and you get lost in their depth. She knows there is something you’re not telling her. She can feel it in her soul. “Talk to me, please,” Natasha’s voice is soft, and her touch is softer. She gently runs her thumb across your cheek.

You want to. You want to with everything in you. You know that you will have to talk about it eventually, but you can’t. Not yet.

“Do we have to talk right now?”

The redhead sighs slightly, “no.” She wants desperately to help with whatever is going on, but she doesn’t want to push you to share before you’re ready to. “Just promise me that you will?” she asks, “...when you’re ready?”

“I promise,” and you mean it. You owe her that much.

“Ok,” she whispers with a smile, “what do you need from me right now?”

A bashful smile takes over your face. Your eyes dart down to her lips, before you reconnect your eyes.

Shaking her head, she chuckles softly. She leans down, pressing her lips to yours. The kiss is brief, but its everything you need in that moment. When the kiss is broken, she smiles at you feeling a little better, “anything else?”

“Hold me?”

Immediately, her arms surround you, and you fall into her comfort.

Just then Wanda walks onto the roof top. She has been looking for you since you didn’t come to the landing bay. Stopping mid-step, she assesses the situation, eyes meeting with Natasha’s. The two share a silent conversation that you don’t hear. The assassin filling her in on what she’s missed.

You’re suddenly aware of someone leaning into your back. Wanda presses a kiss to your head. She wraps her arms around both you and Natasha. Any tension left in your body melts away, quickly replaced by the love you feel for the two of them.

While being up on the roof does help calm your anxieties, nothing is quite as effective as being in their arms. The cracks in your heart mend just a little bit faster with their touch.

It feels like everything will be ok, as long as you can stay here in their embrace.

Part Three

Series Master List

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