#and The World Is Rotting At Our Fingertips We Are Not Safe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gothgalpumpkin · 22 days ago

Text

HalloweenTown

A 5 year connection

Happy spooky season Ghouls and Ghosties! I have another long theory for you involving two of my favorite brain rots; The Nightmare before Christmas (1993) and HalloweenTown (1998). In this theory, which is very much Crack, I'll explain why to me both these Halloween themed towns are the same place with a 5 year window between them changing the course of how the town and the townsfolk are represented.

Let's begin with our differing Mayors.

The Mayor

There is a five year difference between the movies, and if they use the same American standard Executive branch with a four year Mayoral run, that could potentially mean that the Two-faced Mayor of TNBC may have been in office as an “elective official” from 1993 to 1997. This would appear as if the Mayor was only recently elected as of the events of the movie, and I believe if that's the very case, that's why he continues to look to Jack for decisions. Could this indecisive, anxiety riddled political figure just be new into his role or has he been in office much longer? At the Very least we can assume Mayor Two-Face has been in office for at least one term, from at best 1993 to 1997. However we also have to look at the possibility that this could be his second term. If so that would mean he's been in the Mayor seat for about 8 years and we can estimate from 1989-1993 before getting reelected. In my theory Mayor Two-Face decided to not run for a third time (assuming he's even allowed) and instead endorsed another up and coming politician and HalloweenTown friendly face, Kalabar.

Whether Kalabar was endorsed or won the vote fair and square (but let's be honest, he probably didn't) is up for debate. Regardless, we can assume that Kalabar became the Mayor in 1997 at the age of possibly 29-30 before being defeated by the Cromwells a year later. Now, why would I mention his age? Let's put a pin in this and come back later. As of now let's look at how these Mayors affected the overall layout of the towns.

The Town

When the town is run by Two-Face, or better yet, influenced by Jack's authority, we see how more gothic, monochrome things look, more… grim and scary with sharp edges. It fits who Jack is and what he represented as the face of Halloween. And the residents reflect this, they're downright scary, popping out of staircases and beneath beds — This is Halloween — or importantly, this is *Jack's* Halloween. I think out of respect for who is in charge and keeping them safe from the mortal world the residents will reflect the aesthetic of the one in charge to maintain a happy environment.

This changes when Kalabar comes into office.

With Kalabar in office the town is more Spooky, not as scary with a more welcoming, small town in Autumn vibes with a more …human touch. For a town made of Monsters and Magic, there's an unmistakable humanness with the designs of the buildings, the stores, even the townsquare feels different. But why? Why change the town so much? I think it has to do with two of Kalabar’s ultimate obsessions; Power and Gwen Cromwell.

Gwen Cromwell

So we don't know who the Mayor was before Two-Face Which means we don't know who made the laws before he was elected. You may ask “Why is this relevant?” Well, let's shift over to HalloweenTown (‘98) and let's look at the Cromwell family, specifically Gwen Cromwell. Gwen, a young powerful Witch with a pool of magic at her fingertips, decided to rebel against her mother and went to a Halloween party in the mortal realm. It's here she met her soon to be husband — things we know— but we can assume that with Gwen being 30 years old in the ‘98 film and Marnie about to turn 13… that puts Gwen at 17 (in 1985) when she gave birth to Marnie, possibly 16 when she met her husband, William Piper (who we are going to assume was around the same age)…

Flash forward to 1998, five years after the events of TNBC, Gwen is 30, Marnie is 13.

All that to mean that while Gwen was a teenager the Mayor in charge was definitely not Two-Face. Why is this important? It makes us wonder who was the one making the strict laws about what is Halloween and what is not. It makes us wonder who has a strong disapproval or distaste for the mortal world that very few people are allowed to cross over. Now, we are definitely going into super crack-crack theory, but please stay with me. I believe the person who was Mayor before Two-Face, before Kalabar was… Oogie Boogie himself.

I'll even take it a step further and say that Oogie Boogie is Kalabar’s Father.

Kalabar and Oogie

I'm grasping at air with this one, but you've made it this far with me! We don't know much about Kalabar's family besides his son (which I have another theory on…) so who's to say that Oogie isn't his father? I think back to when Kalabar was trying to hide his identity and his scarecrow-cloth mask reminded me of the Oogie's burlap sack suit. Could this possibly be homage to his father? I believe so. But why? Well, let's go back to my thought that Oogie may have been the Mayor before Two-Face, slowly corrupted by Greed and power to overthrow the Royal family for their status and influence, things that Oogie may have felt belonged to him, he is the shadow on the moon at night, filling your dreams to the brim with fright — he's the Oogie Boogie man! The ultimate scare, The bump in the night, why isn't he in charge? For all we know Oogie could have been like the other Townsfolk, happy and having a good time but over time soured with the pressure of running a town that still looked to the Royal family for everything. What if his distaste, maybe even fear, of the mortal world is what made him ban all residents from entering the mortal world — for their protection, naturally. However, this ban wouldn't affect the strongest family in HalloweenTown meaning that the Cromwells and by extension the Skellingtons (we'll come back to this) are allowed to pass through the barriers into the mortal realm. I don't think Oogie knew about the other Holiday world and no one until Jack had walked further enough into the woods to stumble upon the doors.

Oogie was probably kicked out of Office and with the end of his political career, focused on being the gambling spook we know him as while he Plots revenge. So, where does Kalabar come in? Well, there's a possibility that Oogie was romantically involved with a Witch or Warlock in town and they had Kalabar that way, or, and what I believe is more plausible, Kalabar is a clone of Oogie. We have to ask ourselves is Oogie just millions of bugs under a cloth suit or was he turned into that through years of festering hatred and greed, stitched together in shadows and deceit? We don't know, but what we do know is that this Father-son duo have a few things in common such as their charming personalities, the ability to use magic and their lust for power. Could Kalabar have strived to become the Mayor to avenge his father and seek his own control over Halloween? Well, yes. But I want to take it a bit further. While Oogie's story is one of greed and hate, I think Kalabar’s story is one of love and hate. He loved Gwen as a teenager but when she fell in love with a human and left for the Mortal realm his already taught distaste for humans only intensified. I also think this is why under Kalabar the town was more “human” so he could prepare them for his takeover, so Gwen, who had chosen humans, could feel more willing to stay if her home reflected the world she chose.

So far I've linked the town's appearance through Mayoral influence and established the possible connection between the two baddies being father and son. Now let's venture on to what makes this theory of mind even more Crack.

The Cromwells and Skellingtons are related by blood.

The Royal family

I'll be the first to admit that HalloweenTown 4 is my least favorite of the movies and feels the least like a HT movie but there are a few elements from that movie that I'll use for this theory to work (in my opinion it's not even Canon without Kimberly Brown so….). We know that Angie's father was Marvin Cromwell, brother to Merlin, but we don't know about her Mother's side of the family and what their name was… perhaps it was Skellington? Perhaps a fleshier, younger Jack Skellington with no magical abilities grew up in the human world admiring his cousin and how strong she was, helped get the other monsters into their new world. I think after some years of ruling over HalloweenTown, establishing their safety, Aggie became weary of the responsibilities and pressures of being a princess, Aggie could have given her title to Jack making him the Pumpkin King.

The Nightmare Before Christmas and HalloweenTown have always been my favorite comfort movies ever since I was a child and the thought that they could be the same place was something that I've thought about for a while. Of course there's plenty of plot holes and more questions than answers but that's the fun — I want to keep working on this and piecing these worlds together because it's fun! I hope you enjoy my long crackhead ramble and hopefully it makes somewhat sense, I'm far from done with this — I haven't even mentioned all the prequel stuff or the tie-in books that could either expand ideas or crumble this whole thing altogether!

Hope you beautiful Bats have the Spookiest Halloween!!

#halloweentown #the nightmare before christmas #halloweeniscool #spooky szn #crack theory #idk lmao #pumpkin does things #halloween #autumn

1 note · View note

universallychaoticpan · 2 years ago

Note

HI! First of all how are u? I hope ur days okay because mine is shit BUT ANYWAY I MASSIVE brain rot I feel like I should share this with u.

So what if Chuuya and Dazai's s/o are one a mission and they meet and they have to kill each other because ITS A MISSION AND THEY HAVE TO FINISH IT. The women look hot and cool and bloody but no one's stopping bc the KILL intent is super strong but then after all of that is finish. Their s/o's become RIVALS and FRIENDS at the same time😭 like when they are on the job they are KILLING each other but when their not working they become besties❤✌🏻❤✌🏻❤ kinda like ranpo and poe's dynamic.

Ugh sorry I Talk tooo much and sorry bc its super specified u can just add whatever u want idc!!! I just feel really comfortable talking with you! Bc i feel our connection with our love for a badass reader! I probably have a kink for strong and cool women💃🤦‍♀️ OKAY BYEEE

You're always so sweet so I get so happy when I see your requests!! And yes, strong hot women are the ultimate- yes. They're amazing and I love them and writing them is such a treat. Also the request itself is chefs kiss and there were so many ways I could have written this so I tried my best - please, let me know if I missed somethings, I can always go back and add/revise. Reader can be read as Dazai or Chuuya's S/O so take your pick. Anyway I hope you enjoy, and please reach out to me anytime! <3333

You loved nights when your job could let you be this way; when good and evil didn't matter;

when the world was subject only to the rules of knife, bullet, and blood.

You heels found the pavement time and time again, rhythmic and cold on the streets while your eyes watched the woman behind you. She'd been tailing you since your departure from the bar. You knew her face, and she knew yours. But you didn't care to know more than that; not when your sole purpose for being out so late, for being alone safe for one another, for leading and following another woman into shadows was for the kill.

She fired first. You heard the bullet before you felt the blood trickle down the soft skin of your outer ear, sliding down the side of your neck as you turned to face your now enemy.

"Good evening," she sang sweetly. Her accent was delicately foreign; you could hear it on her voice just as sure as you knew she would be able to hear yours. "Lovely night, is it not?"

"Indeed," you responded. Despite your hands twitching on the triggers of your guns, your voices were dulcet and calm as two women enjoying a cup of afternoon tea. "I feared we would jump to all the nasty business right away and what fun would that be. Although, far be it a fair play for one to fire when their opponent's back is turned."

"Quite right," she sighed. "And I do apologize. Still, is it so hard to be pleasant before all that nonsense?"

You laughed, "I suppose you mean our respective lovers then? You aren't wrong; the wounds I've had to patch up are...well let's say it's impressive the two of them have survived to go at each other's throats for so long."

"Then let's hope," she murmured, "that they might learn a thing from the both of us."

"Truly."

Had an observer blinked at that moment, they would have lost you. They would have been blinded by the pop of bullets flying round the dark street, pinging off metal pipes and shattering glass windows. As soon as your guns were empty though, no one could expect either of you to waste any time in going for the kill. You simply threw them away, now useless as your abilities roared to life at your fingertips. It had been less than five minutes; and still, you were no longer the idle picture of pristine drama you had been before. Your clothes were now torn from the seconds where bullets had just barely missed your skin, your skin was raw and scraped from diving to the rough ground and both pairs of eyes gleamed hot as the slight scent of blood hit your nose.

"You're a wonderful fighter," she called.

You bowed your head, the movement almost indistinguishable from the distance at which you stood. "A fighter is only as good as her opposite."

"Then we understand that the toying with one another ends here?"

You dual smiles were nothing short of wicked; perfectly dangerous, inviting as only the thrill of a life on the line can be.

"Oh my dear, who on earth said I was playing?"

The raised tone of your voice, the slight cock of your head, was a challenge. She took the bait. In fact, she snapped at it, ready and willing to sink her teeth into you.

The world could have ended around you from there; you could have ended it and neither one of you would have ripped your eyes from the other. One second her shoulders were under your hands and your body was pinning hers to the ground, the next your body was the one flying against the wall with a dull thud and the sharp crack of bones. You felt your hand connect with the fawn-soft skin of her throat, leaving a thin line of gorgeous crimson in it's wake and immediately after felt her hand close around your own and squeeze until you managed to throw her from your shoulders. Your victory didn't last long, however; only seconds later you felt your body meet the ground right at her side. Your heads were next to each other, blood painting the walls, the ground, your hands and the rest of your exhausted bodies as your eyes fluttered shut to the sight of the night sky.

///

You didn't know how you made it to the safety of your apartment that night; only the man you loved and the most deadly of all his rivals knew that. Only they knew how they had stumbled upon your unconscious bodies after you had failed to return home that night and dared not waste a second fighting each other when it was clear you had both met your match in one another. You took new notice of her whenever you saw her; mutual enemies of yours had luck that was parallel to that of Dazai's enemies if not worse. Whenever your lovers would notice your small smiles, your gentle war, whenever they would ask what in hell had happened in that alley, your answer was dual and matched as every other aspect of you both:

"That alley stays secret. It lives and dies with us."

And your twin smiles kept that secret locked in the cage of your teeth, shrouded in the curtains of lips so sweet one who didn't know better could never guess all the the things the two of you could be hiding.

#dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs

24 notes · View notes

agent-barnes40 · 2 years ago

Text

“They say she went to far this time” Part 1

SPOILERS

The Scarlet Witch & Self-Insert

Warnings: Obsession, attempted Murder

Characters: America Chavez, Wanda Maximoff, The Scarlet Witch, Tommy Maximoff, Billy Maximoff, Stephen Strange, Self-Insert

This is written with the view of 616-Wanda/The Scarlet Witch.

The Scarlet Witch stepped through the multiverse portal and launched Wanda into the wall, turning to the person covering Tommy and Billy. “Step away from my children.” She growled out, only for them to lift a curled hand putting the two boys in a bubble. The Witch tilted her head, looking toward Wanda who was on the ground next to the table. “Names Helena Harkness, Dear. I believe you have your children mistaken, Wanda.” Helena said, a shaky hand reaching up and a bubble went around the other Wanda near the table. “You thought she was The Scarlet Witch of this Universe huh?” Helena asked, disappearing before appearing behind The Scarlet Witch grabbing her orange hair and pulling her head back. “Its me.”

Wanda fought against the grip on her hair as she fought against the control in her mind. “Oh, Wanda. You got it all mistaken, you got my wife hurt, scared my children, and killed my bosses and the only people keeping me away from the world.” Helena whispered, tightening their grip on Wanda’s hair.

Wanda started to reach back, clawing at Helena’s face. “THEY ARE MY CHILDREN!” The Scarlet Witch yelled, causing the other witch to drop their normal clothing for a suit to pull The Scarlet Witch out of the house and back into her universe, barley missing America on the floor. “Sorry dear, close it back up, please. My family needs to be safe.”

Wanda Maximoff of Earth-838 scrambled for Tommy and Billy, pulling them into a protective mother bear hug, watching as America closed the portal. Tommy and Billy curled into their mother as Helena released the grip on The Scarlet Witch’s hair.

“Now, Wanda, we can speak witch to witch or we can fight this out, but this will end with you like my mother in this universe.” Helena stated as they shook out their arms, looking at the rotting corpse on the floor. “Stephen? Is that you?”

Stephen nodded and waved a hand. “Not your Stephen-” He was cut off by Wanda pressing a boot onto his face, starting to crush his rotting jaw. “Now, Witch, you can explain to me why I never saw you when I dreamed.” Wanda demanded and Helena laughed creating a couch to sit on.

“When you killed Charles, Mordo released me. The only other person that wasn't allowed into The Illuminati seeing as I was the reason my Stephen used the Darkhold. I knew Thanos was coming, I was the one holding him off on Titan, I didn't get our signature look from not using our grimoire.” Helena stood up, looking around at Wundagore’s castle. “Did you really call this place a throne? Its a castle, Wanda, and its not ours.”

Wanda grabbed Helena’s throat squeezing it. “You didn't explain, Helena.”

“Easy, I wasnt there.” Helena spat out, fazing out of Wanda’s grip. “The real reason is because I killed my mother, Agatha to protect you. After I stole The Darkhold from her, and gave it to my Stephen, thats when she learnt that my Wanda wasnt our universes Scarlet Witch, it was me.” Helena raised a hand and showed the same blackened fingertips. “The speech she gave sickened me, the one about taking the power from the undeserving. It always gave me a bad feeling.”

Wanda growled and lauched a ball of magic at Helena, who expertly evaded it. “Can’t we just talk?” Helena asked, floating in the air evading all of Wanda’s attacks. Wanda quickly looked at America, flooding the young girl’s mind to open another portal to Earth-838.

#Wanda Maximoff fanfic #Wanda maximoff & self insert #Self insert #mom spoilers #america chavez #doctor strange spoilers

7 notes · View notes

justxright · 4 years ago

Text

Zeke Yeager x Reader - “Traitor”

Chapter 3 - “A Flash of Thunder”

Summary : It’s been weeks since you willingly left with The Beast Titan in order to survive in exchange for information on the Scouts and whatever strategy they had. Over time you had grown close to the Beast Titan, also known as Zeke Yeager, whom told you the truth about everything in the world. Now as battle grows closer to you and Zeke, you have to make a decision whether or not you’ll leave with him or go back in the arms of your older brother, Levi.

Warnings : Spoilers for season 3-4, gore, mentions of SMUT, and a bit of Stockholm syndrome.

The tent you slept in grew cold as the wind lingered on your backside side while the wind crept in through the tent’s entrance. Drowsy and half naked you turned over to notice the empty spot next to you. Where’d Zeke go?... Usually the man was always asleep next to you keeping you warm, but suddenly it seemed he had vanished.

The cold wind froze your bare skin and you quickly reached somewhere in the tent to search for your sweater. Well, his sweater. You hastily threw the sweater on and crawled towards the entrance of the tent. Peaking your head out, you could see the fire was lit and the smell of black tea seemed to be brewing, or at least that’s what you thought it was. Zeke never really told you what is was.

There he was. The man you had been staying with for nearly a month now was there sitting on one of the boxes. However, he was not alone. Your eyes widened as you saw them. Reiner and Bertholdt. They were back so soon? Reiner noticed you peaking your head out and slowly waved. “Good morning Y/n. Sorry, Zeke didn’t want to wake you.”

You shook your head and coughed awkwardly. “Oh no, it’s no worries. It’s still a little dark out so I figured it was still nighttime.”

It was so weird seeing Reiner and Bertholdt like this. All this time, and you wouldn’t have guessed it. The Colossal and the Armored Titan were them this entire time. You had only found out when Zeke told you everything the second day you had been with him. It made you reconsider everything about going home. Eren was the ‘Coordinate’ or the ‘Founding Titan’. Something they do desperately needed in order to return home to Marley.

It only broke your heart even further the day Reiner and Bertholdt came back to Zeke with Ymir. The minute she had seen you though, she talked about how Levi had so desperately wanted to find you. “Why are you here Y/n?! Don’t tell me you’re a Titan shifter too!”

Visible confusion spread across your face that day. She was a Titan shifter like them? No it can’t be. Reiner had her keep her mouth shut while he continued to escort her away. “Shut up, she's no titan shifter but let’s just say she’s traded it up.”

Ymir scrunched her eyebrows in confusion and shock. “W-Wait! Hold on now-! Y/n?” Suddenly being pulled away, Pieck had held your hand and managed to get to to walk away. “Ah, don’t worry now Y/n. I promise that things will be okay. You’re making the right decision here...”

“Y-Yeah...” Ymir’s yelling and bickering echoed as you walked away from her. Levi was mentioned and you knew that might drive Zeke nuts. It certainly drove you nuts. Hearing that he was so desperately looking for you while you willingly stayed because you thought this was the best decision for humanity. Let’s face it, the people living within the walls really did have no future if Titans were to roam the Island forever. Or perhaps maybe if Eren handed over the coordinate, Marley would negotiate and leave this island to rot powerless. Either way, you also didn’t want to leave Zeke.

Suddenly snapping back into reality, you left your thoughts alone. What’s done is done. You loved Levi, but he didn’t seem to care too much for humanity and you did. Now you only hope that he’d understand your reasoning if you guys were to cross paths again. Turning slowly from his seat, Zeke turned his head and smirked. Seeing the bruises around your neck made him want to go back into that tent and finish what he had started. He knew you’d grow to like him, and he definitely grew to like you after you got pass the skittish, timid phase with him. “Good morning darling, care to join us?”

Butterflies seemed to flutter around in your stomach as he looked back at you. Nodding your head, you got up from the tent and walked out to sit by Zeke, who immediately threw his arm about you. Visible hickeys were littered around your neck and you felt Bertholdt”s eyes stare them down. Yes, it was slightly embarrassing but you knew it was exactly what Zeke wanted. He wanted everyone to know that you were his in all ways possible. Pieck even teased you the other day that Zeke won’t ever neck your neck clear up again.

The smell of tea and honey filled the air while the sound of pouring liquid accompanied it. “Here you go darling.” Zeke handed you a cup of tea, the warmth of it in your hands made the rest of your body heat up. You took slow sips, but little by little since the tea turned out to be broiling hotter than it usually is. As time went by, you listened to the three men talk about Annie and the reveal of her identity. Honestly, the reality of it al seemed so surreal and it was almost impossible for you to wrap your head around. Titans eat humans in desperate hopes of regaining their humanity. Just like Ymir ate Marcel... and gained his humanity and powers.

“War Cheif Zeke.” A distorted voice came from below the wall that made you jump in your seat. The rapid sounds of footsteps echoed as the three men, including yourself, ran to the edge of the wall. There she was, or at least the titan form of her. Pieck had grown to be one of your good friends. The kindest being you had ever met and despite being a “devil” from the Island, there was never a moment where she wasn’t kind to you. Zeke especially trusted her with you. The relationship between him and Pieck was solid. They just had that brother-sister bond that made you feel relaxed. Something you and Levi had, only he was much more blunt and rough about your feelings. “Enemy troops are approaching. They’ve reached the foot.”

Slowly, your throat went dry when you heard her words. They’ve reached the foot...enemies. All your friends are enemies. Right, you weren’t on their side anymore, and they don’t even know it. Levi doesn’t know it. Had he given you up for dead yet? No, that was very unlike him. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin don’t even know what’s coming for them. All your friends would no longer be your friends after this battle. But you figured if you finally got your hands on Eren, then maybe this could all end. After all, you finally saw light in Marley’s point of view after Zeke had repeatedly told you over and over again what their plans were.

There was a slight pause before Zeke nodded at Pieck and took you, Reiner and Bertholdt back to the fire pit. He poured you all a fresh batch of tea in each cup before clanking the cups together as if it were a celebration. “My brave warriors.” He spoke triumphly. “It’s time to settle this here and finish our mission once and for all.” Reiner and Bertholdt both seemed relaxed and prepared, but deep down you knew they were both terrified and you know that Zeke didn’t want you involved. You would be staying on Pieck’s gear with the rest of the boxes so that you’d be safe. In case of emergencies too, Zeke allowed you to fix the ODM gear he had taken from Miche while he was with you. That way, in case something happened to Pieck or himself, you could escape.

Everyone slowly took a sip from their teas, sipping slowly from the yummy sweet boiling hot tea, until Zeke had startled all of you. “Ah-! Hot!” He covered his mouth and looked at you slowly. “Ah, sorry. Perhaps I boiled the tea too harshly. Careful dear.”

Reiner raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Oi, what about us chief?” He chuckled and nudged Bertholdt.

Zeke rolled his eyes and turned to give him his famous bored look. “Oh please, I couldn’t care less about you being hurt. You’ll end up regenerating anyways.” Standing behind you, he suddenly put his hand on your shoulders and began to lightly massage them. “My dear Y/n is not able to regenerate. Which is why she’ll be staying with Pieck. I will not risk her getting hurt.”

“Oh please. I’ve seen her fight with my own eyes.” Reiner crossed his arms and spun the liquid around in his cup, probably a learning habit from Zeke. “She’s a killing machine.”

Blushing, you giggled lightly and shook your head. “Oh stop, you’re exaggerating Reiner...” Your voice was like silk to Zeke, but he didn’t like the way you softly spoke at Reiner. Nor did he like that he was praising your skill, making you want to go back into the field and risking your life. Absolutely not. Zeke will not allow it. “Hey Reiner... shut it. Y/n will not risk her life for our plan. How many more people have to die for your mistakes?”

Your heart completely stopped, and you saw the life from Reiner’s eyes drain while Bertholdt just stood there completely lost for words. Those words definitely hit Reiner hard, but you knew not to interfere with those stories. “Come now, Y/n. We must prepare.” He brought you away from them slowly and back towards the tent. Once you were fully in, he took you by your chin and kissed you softly. “I’m sorry if that was intense back there. I just can’t risk you getting hurt.”

The usual familiar feeling of your face being caressed by his fingertips made you bite your lip. “Oh no... I understand.” You took your hand then rested on his cheek. “But I also don’t want to lose you either... So be safe?”

Zeke’s heart raced as your fingertips touched his face and your gentle look stared at him. It was a feeling that no one ever gave him, and in his mind he promised he’d be safe. He would end this all so that he could finally bring you back home with him and end this Paradis Island nightmare. Sure it’s been nearly a month or more, but he was certain about you and he’d do anything to make you his. No woman at home ever suited him. So ignorant and void of the world. They either cared about his title as a war chief or his Eldian blood that he carries. Most Marley women did not want him because of that.

He remembered the horror and heartache of his former friend Tom, who had a wife, child and stable family. However, it fall apart because his wife had found out he was an Eldian, and because their son carried his blood, she had killed herself and the innocent child. Zeke feared that if he had a child with a woman from Marley, she might have second thoughts about caring for a child with Eldian blood and might eventually kill them. Afterall, acts like that were not uncommon.

“Oh Y/n, my dear...” His voice grew softer with you as the days went by. “I know I was rough on you that first week, but I’d do anything for you. Honestly, you’ve stolen away a part of me that you’ll always have.” A wave of electricity zapped through him as he finally had full control over you. Never did you ever think twice about the things he said, and you never thought twice about giving all your trust to him. “I will be safe. Don’t you worry.”

Zeke moved in both his hands into your hair and began to caress it, while you gave him a smile of relief. Of course you knew he’d be okay, he is the war chief. Nobody could ever outsmart him. “Now then, go get ready and meet with Pieck at the bottom of the wall. She’ll be waiting.” He leaned in to kiss the top of your head and embraced you in one last hug. “Stay safe, and stay put understand? Then this will finally be over.”

The smell of cigarettes and black honey tea hit you in the face while he embraced you. You prayed and prayed as he held you in his arms. Please be safe... you’d miss the smell of him and you’ll never be able to get it back from if he didn’t survive. “I will be safe, don’t worry.” Your voice echoed in his mind as you mumbled your last words to him. Softly speaking as you always do.

And with that final embrace, Zeke let you go. It was time to end this battle on Paradis Island.

•

The wind grew silent and the earth was too still. Even though you were sitting in a rather comfy box and being transported, you knew the sky and earth would collide and rumble. Zeke’s plan was just all too perfect, and you were about to witness the death of everyone you once held dear in your heart. Pieck stayed out of sight, preparing to roll the boulders to Zeke while you sat in the luggage on her.

Both you and Pieck waited for the signal. Then you heard it. The transformation of Reiner. They found him...

Then it grew quite once more and then you counted.

3...2...1...

Suddenly the ground shook and the scene around you grew brighter than it did before. You looked up from where you were and the sky was blinding yellow. Lighting stuck the Earth, and dozens of Titans appeared with it, surrounding the Scout’s only exit. The center piece of all those titan of course, was the the Beast. It was just as terrifying as you remembered it. The grin spread across its face didn’t help the situation either.

The long arms of the Beast reached out and grabbed the boulder. The position and the pitch itself was all too perfect as Zeke threw the boulder miles towards the wall, and perfectly blocked their only exit. Back and fourth, back and fourth. It felt like hours while you sat in Pieck’s luggage, watching and seeing her collect boulders for Zeke. Until you heard that familiar roar of his titan. The roar you heard when he took you with him to the outskirts of Wall Rose and made you watch him turn Connie’s village into Titans.

Suddenly, all of the 2-5cm titans that surrounded the walls began to run full speed at the wall’s entrance in attempt to kill the scouts that were stuck. This is power... Everything was at the mercy of Zeke and nobody else could interfere with it. Oh but it didn’t end there. Zeke picked up the barrel next to you that carried Bertholdt inside, and threw it further into the walls. Good luck...

Zeke just threw in the Cossal Titan and you knew what would happen from there. It was a god of destruction and a part of you prayed that Levi would make it out alive. The other part prayed that he wouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place and stayed to clean the stables back at home.

The last part of you prayed that you wouldn’t have to reunite with him on the battlefield.

Note : I can’t thank you all enough for the positive messages and love that you guys been sending to this story. It baffles me that this story has been sitting in my mind for weeks, and when I finally wrote it out, it got this much love. Seriously thank you guys, I can’t thank you all enough. <3

Tags : @mother-ting-ting

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #zeke yeager #levi ackerman #armin alert #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman #attack on titan zeke #reiner braun #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan zeke x reader #zeke x reader #zeke x you

245 notes · View notes

tom-riddle-haunts-me · 4 years ago

Text

Not a new chapter but a mini fic I felt like writing. I'm a little stuck with the "main story", so I hope you'll enjoy this little drabble. I'm warning you, this shit gets sad and ugly.

Abigail 🐍✨

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

Tw: angst, gore, blood

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

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

It Hurts

"Who are you?"

"What do you mean, Y/n? It's me, I'm... I'm Tom"

"I... I don't know you"

Tom stepped back. Locking eyes with you had never felt so terrifyingly unreal to him.

"Y/n..."

Why you? Anyone. Fate could've taken anyone away from him, but you?

"Oh, Mr Riddle!"

Dumbledore. He would've helped him.

"Professor! Y/n is actin-"

"-our biggest disappointment."

Another step back.

"Who is this, Professor?"

Your voice echoed heavily in his ears, crawling up to his brain and piercing through it like a long blade. A thin, cold metal string slowly lacerating his cerebral matter, a wicked torture that left behind nothing but an even colder nothingness and blood, too much blood. Tom could feel the thick crimson fluid run down his neck, anxiety taking hold of the sticky substance and guiding its goopy drips around his own throat, suffocating the tired wizard.

"Y/n, it's me, IT'S ME."

"Who are you?"

The sound that somehow managed to reach Tom was muffled and eerily calm, almost lifeless. It wasn't your voice. The figure standing in front of him, that was you, he knew it, but he was hearing something else rather than your voice. It was painful listening to such an abomination.

Grotesque. Putrid. Writhing. Cruel words pooling around him.

Far, far away.

"Who are you? Are you okay? You look pale"

As your hand reached his face, Tom couldn't bring himself to melt into your touch as he habitually would. Couldn't you see the blood?

"He's about to die, Y/n."

"Oh... Alone? Like this? I'm sorry"

"Y/n I'm... I'm not dying"

As the teacher withdrew your hand from his face, panic tightened the pressure around his neck. Oxygen was struggling to flow through his lungs, his organs protesting as they were starting to feel the lack of air.

It hurt.

"Can we save him?"

"Yes, but we won't"

"Okay"

Words were failing the usually composed wizard, hopelessly stuck in his guts. His eyes were fixated on his dearest friend, the only person in the entire world who could make him feel something else rather than just anger and bitterness. His loneliness felt a little warmer with her, his thirst for power a little less cruel, his fears a little more bearable. Sitting under their dead tree by the Black Lake was something that brought comfort to him in times of distress, still, it was hard to believe the ones staring at him were those same eyes, the e/c gems that he got used to see smile every time they were to meet with his. In the mean time, your hugs were crumbling into mere memories in the back of his mind and Tom felt powerless for the first time since forever. Now the orphanage would be cold and desolate again, silence would come back to fill his empty room and days.

He needed to stop. Stop thinking, feeling. He hated that. He hated you. He was embarrassed with himself for he shouldn't have perceived such stupid things.

His pale hand traveled to his petrified face.

Tears.

Rotten fury exploded in his stomach like an erupting volcano, resulting in an aberrant sickness disturbing his already devastated self. Now nothing had to matter, not anymore. Not your giggles, not you nervously playing with your hair. What would happen to your smile, the one you had promised was only his, had to be none of his business. Letting it go should've been easy, he knew far too well how to block out anything useless to his goal. His exhausted mind slipped to your now blank eyes, your toneless voice.

You body, barely covered by the white dress you were wearing, looked consumed by a melancholy he couldn't define, deep buried in your eyes, flat and washed-up as much as the pale fabric flowing around you.

His chest stung.

"Tom"

Dumbledore's skinny hand found its way to your shoulder, like a caring parent, yet it had an ugly something in it.

Tom thought about your tone, your real one. He thought about the times it had reassured him, soothed his nerves down. That one time it had slightly raised with boldness to defend him from Dumbledore himself. Your promises. They flowed back like a swollen river. The darkness in your eyes when you declared that you were to come for whoever ever dared to wrong him, now gone. How, how he would've liked to tell you about your beauty. Harmless to sight, dangerous to the reckless. Just like a rose.

His rose.

Twisted sparkles in your eyes, shadows that still felt warm and pure. Innocence.

Horror.

Terror drowned his heart, need overwhelming his confused mind.

Where were you?

Uncertainty danced under his skin.

Not enough. Was he? Evil could never bloom into a rose. Its fruits would rot and fall into darkness, dragging down every little drop of light they'd ever reach.

The hand that was touching you, he hated that. And now, now it was rotting, the meat melting right onto your oblivious self.

Bones.

"Yes, Y/n?"

His tears kept on running dow his face, the skin under the salty guilty stinging while stretching into the smallest, surrendered smile.

You had no idea who he was, didn't you?

Time slowed down in the most excruciating way right before Dumbledore's skin began to shed off of him like a used robe. Dirty, now useless, distressed.

Large wings spread through the thick air of the Dark Forest, Lady Death herself raising up behind Y/n, her delicate face was now painted with a content smile and peaceful tears, mimicking his own.

"It hurts"

Before Tom's mind could gave birth to any sort of though, the Hooded Dame slid back, his beloved rose obnoxiously secured to Her chest in a possessive way. And at the same time they backed away, the ground faded unhurried into nothingness. An abyss was now opening its jaws under Y/n's beaten body, and it started to swallow her whole in slow-motion.

Tom stood frozen, the cruelty of his condition giving him all the time in the universe to process Y/n's flesh breaking into bloody, gruesome chunks, her organs easily finding their way out of her abdomen, down, into the merciless void with a dreadful, wet moan.

Tom threw himself in the emptiness of your end, reaching for the parts of what his delirious mind hoped could be sewed up together again. Was is it losing you that drove him crazy?

Or did the seed of madness just finally bloom in his now blood covered hands?

When did they got stained with crimson?

"Why didn't you save me, Tom?"

"Tom?"

"Tom"

"Tom!"

<TOM!>

The Slytherin's dark eyes shot open only to find e/c ones stare right back at them, red and swollen by tears still freshly oozing down s/c skin.

You felt so broken to his ears. So stressed to his eyes. As your finally sweet tone caressed his hearing again, Tom still found it difficult to move. Reality was just starting to settle in, his brain still processing the gruesome images that'll be now forever carved in his mind. You were screaming at him, but he couldn't hear you.

He looked to the left.

His diary.

Tom was in his dorm room, again, his soulmate straddling him in the most innocent way.

Crying, shaking.

Were you angry at him?

Tom did not have sufficient energies to keep his cold act up. Time was not wasted, and his arms laced around you as fast as possible, bringing you as close to his chest as they could. He'd probably crush your bones at a certain point, still he knew none of you cared, not when you were squeezing him the same way.

<Don't you dare do it again, Riddle. You scared the life out of me.>

He was not aware of his muscles being that tense until that very moment. The second your skin collapsed into his, everything was swept away, like smoke in thin air. The room was empty, the clock on its wall claiming the dead of the night to be the time your scene was playing.

You didn't really need to say more. Your body just slipped on the mattress, right beside Tom, letting enough space for his worn out frame to curl up to it. Your fingers began to play with his locks, actually unusually sweaty and almost dry, nothing like his usually silky ones. You'd swear you could feel his shattered mind under your fingertips, if only it was possible you'd seek for its scars and heal them one by one.

If only it was possible.

<Y/n?>

Tom's breath slowed down gradually, just like his heart rate, lulled by the quiet tone you were humming.

<Yes, Tom?>

The clock was almost too loud, you were afraid its ticketing would disturb him. Was keep staring at it enough to silence the noise?

Drowsy murmurs left the young wizard's lips, falling in your lap like dead petals but failing to reach up to your ears.

You bent over, just a little, at least enough to trace out his confused mutters. It reminded you of your days at the orphanage, when you both were too young and scared. It brought your mind back when Tom used to tell you his secrets, when you were his one and only. When he was still just Tom.

<What... What does it feel to jump into the void?>

H/c hair gently fell over your shoulders as your head found rest on the wall.

Air was cold against your now wet cheeks.

"Can we save him?"

"Yes, but we won't"

The steady rhythm of Tom's chest raising up and down told you he was finally long gone into a gentle slumber, safe from himself.

#harry potter #hogwarts #hogwarts x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #voldemort #fanfic #reader insert #harry potter angst #hogwarts imagine #harry potter imagine

216 notes · View notes

elizabeth-mitchells · 3 years ago

Link

Andy and Quynh One Shots - #101

Chapters: 101/101 Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020), The Old Guard (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Andy | Andromache the Scythian/Quynh | Noriko Characters: Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Quynh | Noriko, Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Additional Tags: Immortal Wives Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Immortality, One Shot Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Tumblr Prompt, Originally Posted on Tumblr, just... A LOT of Andy and Quynh, it's what they deserve, it's what we deserve Words: 63518

"Just you and me." "Until the end."

Three thousand years of love, and more. All the little moments of joy, pain, adoration, and yearning. Andy and Quynh, all through history, all over the world, always in love.

Chapter 101: I'm here, at the beginning of the end, the end of infinity with you (teasing Andy for being old)

At first, Andy didn’t even think twice about it. She could be in the middle of a training session with Quynh and after landing a particularly good punch, Quynh smirked and said, “You’re getting too old, my heart” or “Age has made you slow, Andromache.” It was fine. In fact, it was good, and meant to be affectionate. She had been saying things like that in every language known to man for almost as long as the two of them had known each other. Which, really, was an eternity in itself. It was a little detail that Andy was glad to experience again after such a long separation. Their love was something capable of always growing and never changing at its core. However, little changes were unavoidable. And now that their family was bigger, it was just a matter of time before some harmless, affectionate teasing would get out of hand.

The three of them were sitting on the couch watching a movie and almost as soon as it ended Andy was out of her seat and stretching.

“Where are you going?” Quynh wondered with a slight pout.

Nile added, “We can still watch another!”

Andy scoffed, “I’m exhausted, I’m going to bed.” Without waiting for further approval she started walking toward the room she shared with Quynh.

Quynh, who wasn’t exactly happy to lose the shoulder she was comfortably leaning against during the movies. “I get it, you’re too old for this,” she called after her lover’s retreating figure. Andy shook her head fondly, and smiled because the others couldn’t see her. But there was just something about how loudly Nile laughed at that joke that just sparked a hint of worry in the older woman’s mind. She tried to ignore it, as long as she could.

A few days later, after a couple of minutes of lying awake in bed, Andy turned to her side and happily devoted herself to trailing feather-light kisses on Quynh’s bare shoulders to get her to wake up. Her fingertips were starting to dance in secret patterns on the soft skin of the other woman’s back, when Andy’s ministrations were interrupted by Quynh, who quickly moved so she could capture Andy’s lips with her own and give her a real good morning kiss. Though, after pulling back, she went back to lying on her stomach and said, “I know you’re old, my heart, but do you have to wake up this early?”

“Excuse me?” Andy laughed, not at the joke, precisely. But there was just something too sweet about the sight of Quynh, unable to hold back a smile, even if trying to hide her face in the pillow, but stubbornly keeping her eyes closed.

“Let me sleep!” Quynh mumbled against her pillow, and she had to bravely accept a kiss on the cheek, but she was finally granted extra time to sleep.

Still wearing a content smile on her face, Andy walked to the kitchen. She was half-way through her first cup of coffee, which she almost dropped, when Nile walked into the kitchen and without even looking Andy in the eyes said, “My grandma used to wake up before everyone else too.”

Soon enough, their teasing became a constant in their lives.

“I don’t get it,” Nile complained, dropping her head in a book written in Russian and groaning loudly.

“It’s not that difficult!” Andy insisted, in perfect Russian.

Nile, assuming what she’d just said, protested, “You only say that because you’re older than the entire language.”

“That’s complicated,” Andy grumbled, still in Russian.

“No, she’s right, darling, you’re that old,” Quynh blurted out in matching Russian, with a few struggles, from her place reading a different book a few feet away on the couch.

After Nile burst out laughing, Andy looked at her with a frown, “Oh so that you understand?!”

Even during moments that could have been emotionally difficult, Andy was caught off guard by the ruthlessness of the women around her.

“We can’t do it, it’s too risky,” Andy insisted, about a new sketchy mission offered to them that the youngest member of the family was determined to take, “Listen, Nile…”

“What? I’ll get it when I’m older… than civilization?” Nile crossed her arms defensively, as if that could hide the hint of a smile showing in her lips.

Quynh absolutely failed to stifle a laugh. And when she received a pointed look from her wife, she returned the expression in kind and said, “Was that not the point of whatever you were about to say?”

“We are not taking this job,” Andy stated through clenched teeth, right before learning a valuable piece of information about the mission that they would, in the end, take and successfully complete.

“Nile!” Andy yelled, kicking open the door of their latest safe house and storming into the living room. “Nile!”

“What did she do now, and why didn’t she include me?” Quynh walked out of the kitchen with a proud grin already in place.

“Our fake identities just arrived,” Andy grumbled. “Take a look.”

Quynh hummed as she took in her hands the handful of passports Andy passed her. She glanced at them, but found nothing out of the ordinary. “What's the problem, my love? You look frighteninly pretty, as always.”

Although she was still frowning profusely, during a second, a smile broke out on Andy’s face. But then, “She did it on purpose! Look at my age!”

This time, Quynh bit her lip to hold back her smile. After taking a closer look at the passport, she looked up with a small smirk and a playfully raised eyebrow, “Fifty?”

“Fifty!” Andy exclaimed, outraged. “I’ve never been fifty! Fucking fifty! How does she dare-”

“Andromache!” Quynh was openly laughing then. “You are thousands of years old!” When her lover attempted to turn away from her in a rage, Quynh dropped the passports and quickly wrapped her arms around Andy’s waist and hugged her close. “Come on, it’s not a big deal! You don’t look a day over forty eight.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Andy scoffed, but when she turned around to kiss Quynh, there was a small smile on her face.

“Quynh! Please tell this crazy old woman to give me back my phone!” Nile stormed into the safe house.

She was quickly followed by Andy saying “We have rules about social media, Nile! To keep us safe.”

Quynh strolled into the living room with a smile on her face that everyone else might have assumed was patient or gentle, but Andy knew it was the kind of smile that brought trouble for her specifically. “Nile, you have to understand,” Quynh said slowly, “She’s too old for this kind of thing.”

As she finished talking, Quynh reached out to take Nile’s phone, Andy quickly blocked her attempt and laughed, “Are you serious?” It started an impressive duel where they fought for the cellphone, with Quynh coming out as the winner for being just slightly quicker, something she would probably remind Andy of for years.

“It’s just a different generation,” Quynh continued to laugh, tossing the phone over to the younger woman a second before Andy threw her arms around her.

“You’re literally older than everyone else in our family combined!” Andy protested as the two of them playfully wrestled in the middle of the living room.

“And you are twice as old as me!” Quynh replied, followed by a yelp of surprise as the love of her life lifted her up from the floor.

The two of them only stopped fighting when they noticed a flash coming from the camera of Nile’s phone. “Hm, you’re both right,” Nile smirked, quickly sending the hilarious picture to their family’s groupchat, “The two of you are ancient.”

Nile walked away from them, leaving behind two women wearing shocked expressions, though Andy was delighted, and Quynh appeared deeply betrayed. “Hey!” Quynh tried to protest, but she was happily interrupted by a kiss from Andy, who a moment later started tickling her, just to start their loving battle all over again.

#✨THE END✨#probably not the end but let me pretend lmao #technically officially done with the old guard prompts! a year later! it was way too much fun!! i love the immortal wives so so much!!!#HAPPY TOG ANNIVERSARY!!!!!#i still can't believe you guys requested a hundred of these 🥺❤ i love you all so much #the old guard #andromaquynh #andy x quynh #immortal wives #andromache the scythian #quynh #andy and quynh #my fic #prompts

22 notes · View notes

mydrug-is-dragonage · 4 years ago

Text

Veda Adaar, A Letter from Home

The balcony off my room had great light in the morning. The sun shining through the clouds, the crisp mountain air, spring properly arrived and ready to melt into summer. My belly swelled, slowly but surely. No kicks or stirring, a growing bump where they said a child would be. I hid myself in long, flowing robes and oversized tunics. I spent most my days here, staring out the window, feeling the sun on my skin. I wondered if this was the feeling my parents missed, living in this cold land so far from their home. I sighed and looked out at the mountains, so calm with the wars ceased. The sky still bore the thin green scar.

The week after the healer confirmed the child, Lace came into my room with tea. “Hey, V.” I nodded and waved her in. She handed me the cup and we settled onto the sofa. The fire crackled, I pulled my robe closer around me and placed both hands on the warm cup. “I haven’t written the Divine yet,” she said.

“You haven’t written or you haven’t sent it?” I asked.

“Sent. I’ve written a draft,” she said.

“Do we have to send it now?”

“No,” she paused. Her eyes stared at the burning logs. “We will have to tell her soon, though.”

“I suppose we can get it over with. Not like it’ll get any easier,” I sighed. I took a sip of my tea. My hands stayed on the cup, the warmth passing through my palms.

“She’ll make it easier to keep this quiet, if that’s still what you want to do,” she said.

I swallowed and stared out, the sun setting, the chill of the mountains taking over. “I want to keep it quiet. I’ll tell a few friends, in time, but for now it needs to stay with only those we trust the most.”

She nodded. “Have you written your mother yet? We got another two letters from her this week.” I shook my head. “The Divine considers her trustworthy. She hasn’t betrayed any Inquisition secrets thus far.”

“I know,” I said, “I just don’t know how to tell her.” Lace tapped her feet. “Go on, you’ve got a mind full of something.”

“Veda, she loves you. She loved Bull. She’ll be thrilled.” I took another sip of my tea.

“She does love me. She did love Bull. She also loves my father and will certainly tell him,” I said. Lace started to speak, but I interrupted. “Pa never trusted him. He had his reasons, of course.”

“I think he’ll support you more than he hates Bull,” she said.

“You’ve met my father. Do you really believe that?”

“He’s a hardass, but he’s always been bolder in affection than hatred.” I nodded, took another sip of my tea.

“Lace, can you bring me a fresh candle and ink?” She nodded and went to fetch them. I settled into my desk.

Tama,

I’m sorry I haven’t written. Lace tells me she’d get you informed about the immediate developments. I’ll also admit I haven’t read your letters. I’m going to, I keep them in a safe place. I simply haven’t found the time or the gumption. For being so brave, I’m so afraid. I don’t know why. I’ve face dragons and magisters and time travel. I suppose the risk there is death. Dying never seemed as scary.

I remember the stories you told me of when you were a girl. A young apprentice baker, elbows deep in flour. You wanted to be a Tamassaran, raising the children, guiding their growth, comforting their hurts. I suppose it’s the closest thing to motherhood in Par Vollen. They didn’t let you into the priesthood, though. They didn’t let you raise the babies and cuddle them, tend to their wounds. They sent you to a small bakery near the sea. I remember the gull songs you’d sing to me as we wandered along the coastline of the Waking Sea.

Pa never told me the same stories you did. I pieced them together from stories you’d told me. Pa, part of the antaam, stopping by your bakery for bread in the morning. Pa, the good soldier, making jokes as you packed his rations You, the naughty the baker, sneaking him sweetened bread, baked with too much sugar. His hands lingering on yours too long in front of the baker. You two sitting on beach, the sea lapping the shore, your hands finding their way to each other’s again. When I got older and understood the Qun, I always wondered how you weren’t quaking with fear. To love, while not forbidden, was certainly not allowed like this.

When you fled, were you afraid? Crossing through Seheron and Tevinter, Pa joining mercenary companies to gain passage, did you regret it? Did you miss the calm of the bakery, the friends you left behind? Was he worth it? Was I worth it? Were you afraid?

I remember when you sent me off with my first company, an apprentice myself, unsure of the power in my fingertips. I remember Pa standing, arm around you. You held back your tears, but I saw your eyes well up, so afraid for your only child, your only daughter. You wanted more for me than mercenary companies, killing for my dinner. You sang from the Chant of Light, you warned me of magic, yet it came to me anyway, taking me away from you. The first letter I got from you started and ended with, “May the Maker guide you.”

He guided me through mountains and valleys, along the seas. I’d seen the Free Marches, Nevarra, Orlais, the South Western corner of the Anderfels, all while learning to protect myself from demons, manipulate the fade to bend to my very will. The best, of course, was when I’d come home, a year older, a head taller, hardly the child you’d sent away, still so far from real womanhood. You fussed over me so, made goat pies, asked about the places I’d been and the joy I’d found. When you went to bed, Pa and I sat outside, looking towards the sky, the moon so full and hungry. He took a sip of the wine you’d opened, offered me my first glass. He put his arm around me and pointed out constellations. He said something softly, the sounds still ringing in my ears, “We wanted better for you. We wanted safer for you.”

The first time you visited Skyhold, we’d stopped the demon army, but we hadn’t yet gone to Halamshiral to save the empress. You wore a simple cotton dress, you hair braided down your back. Pa put on his nice shirt, his horn caps. You looked so nervous around the nobility. They didn’t know what to make of you. The deafening whispers, everyone so curious about the new Qunari amongst the Inquisition. I heard you sing from some Canticle as you walked towards the throne, up towards my room.

I was scared then, too, my mission unfinished, the Magister still on the loose. When we got to my room you gave me the biggest hug. “My little girl has gone on to be something so much bigger!” You beamed, your own daughter the Herald of Andraste. Pa hugged me too. While I was pressed against him he whispered, “I’m happy you’re safe, for now.” Pa pulled away and glanced at my neck.

The dragon’s tooth was heavy. It rested against my skin, cool and smooth. He didn’t say anything, eyes stuck on the tooth. Your eyes were stuck on me, until Pa’s hand reached your back. Your gaze went where his rested. I can hear your voice now, the surpise and curiosity, “Veda, is that….” your voice trailed off, so Pa, forever your rock, finished for you, “A necklace of the Kadan.” He didn’t share your curiosity.

I said yes. No use in lying to you. I felt my heartbeat in my ears. Your eyes widened when you asked me, “Do you have a Kadan?” I nodded, so unsure and afraid. Not of my love. I knew I loved Bull. I hoped he loved me, but the two of you, seeing me in love with a man closer to your age than mine, a Ben Hassrath agent no less. You two joined me in Herald’s Rest, we found a small table in the corner upstairs. Pa drank a full ale before Bull came to join us. It was awkward, so painfully awkward. When Pa excused himself, I wanted to be sick when Bull said he’d take a walk with him. The men gone, us alone at the table. “He’s,” you thought so carefully about your words, “a lot of man.” I laughed and agreed. You asked if he made me happy.

He did. He made me so happy. He made me happy for years. He made me happy dancing at Halamshiral, he made me happy fighting dragons, he made happy in taverns and campsites, in castles and caves. He held my hand in carriages, he held me in cold storms. He took blows meant for me, he killed foes sent to strike me down. I saw the whole future, I saw the danger you and Pa had lived through. I knew we’d have troubles. I knew he’d be called away from me, but he was mine and he made me so happy, Tama. I couldn’t have loved him more.

I assume you know now what he did. Pa was right. Pa, despite walking with Bull, pulled me into a great big hug before he left. Again, he whispered in my ear, “He’ll never love you more than the Qun.” I shrugged him off. What did Pa know? He didn’t know Bull. He didn’t know me or our circumstances. I thought myself so grown then, barely nineteen, but the most powerful woman in the world. I loved Bull. Bull loved me. I was so sure Bull loved me.

I don’t know if love persists once we return to the Maker’s side. I don’t know if he even gets to return to the Maker. I don’t know what the Qun says happens we die. He obeyed the Qun. He did what the Qun demanded. If there is satisfaction to be had there, he’s earned it. At the cost of himself, at the cost of our love, at the cost of my dignity.

It’s been scarcely two months, his body left to rot near that dragon’s prison. I saw my love struck down before me. Cassandra delivered the killing blow, saving me the anguish of having to kill him myself. He’s dead, Tama. He’s gone. He’s gone forever and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to accept that he loved me and still did this. I don’t know how to accept that he never loved me and felt no guilt. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.

It’s been two months, I’m in Skyhold with Lace and the few others who stayed behind to serve what was the Inquisition. I’m no longer the Inquisitor, I’m no longer a fearsome fighter. I’m no longer someone’s Kadan. I’m just Veda. I’m just Veda and that’s all I’ll ever be. I’ll try to help stop Solas, but I won’t lead the charge. I can’t, not anymore. I’m going to be a glorified advisor, one-armed and tired. All that is so hard to write. Forgive the smudges. I’ve finally cried without violence and I don’t know how to accept any of this, but I do have something I have to tell you.

I’m no longer the Inquisitor, a Valo-Kas mercenary, a Knight Enchanter. But I’m still your daughter, and I’m going to be a mother.

Love,

Veda

Lace sent the raven to my mother, I sat down and finally read her letters, her usual, motherly concern filling each page. Father was doing well, a goat had twin kids. When she’d found out about Bull, the letter was longer. Words about love and loss, the way pain settles in our chest, proving our love mattered at all. Beautiful words, frustrating as they were comforting. I heard her and Thom ringing in my ears. I lounged on the sofa, my hands resting at my side, sometimes settling on the top of it. My stomach was warm and tight. Sometimes my fingers would wander towards my stomach, but I’d pull them away. The child would have to be acknowledged eventually. I would have to care for the child, provide for its needs. But I didn’t have to love it, caress its home. Not yet, not now.

Two weeks passed, visitors came and went, spring got brighter, the documents and plans seemed more convoluted. A sunny afternoon, Lace came to my room with two letters. “I thought you’d want this as soon as possible,” she said. I opened the first, smelled the pages. The light scent of lavender and smoke, the oils mother loved and the constant cooking.

Sweetling,

Asit tal-eb. It is to be. Maraas Kata. Nothing is ended.

Love,

Tama

I held the letter to my chest, weeping. So few words, yet they struck right into my heart. Asit tal-eb, what mother would say whenever we suffered and lost. One summer, before I’d come into my magic, Pa came home furious. He cursed and threw down his sword. They spoke in quick Qunlat, too fast for me to understand. Pa sat down and put his elbows on his knees, his head in his hand. Tama put her arms around his head, rested her head on his. She whispered, “Asit tal-eb,” over and over, stroking his hair. I put my doll aside, walked up beside them. Pa took an arm off Tama’s waist and pulled me into their embrace. She leaned up, dried her eyes, and squatted down to my height. “We’ve got to go, sweetling,” she said. Her voice calm despite it all.

“But I like it here! They’re not even mean at the Chantry!” I said, full of childlike fury.

“They won’t sell us the land,” Pa said. “So we can’t grow food for ourselves. We can’t raise animals of our own.” He sniffed and stared at the wall. His gaze moved down to me, little girl with little horns still budding. “We will try again. Find a new place we can stay. Asit tal-eb.”

I caught my breath and opened the next letter. Instead of my mother’s gentle writing, a harsher, sturdier hand had written it.

Imekari,

Your mother says you are having a child. This means we will be grandparents. I have never known a grandparent. Like parenthood, it is a concept we’ve stolen from the Bas. Regardless, I will inquire with the man who sells wheat what this entails. I presume we will love this child, just as we love you. The stories I’ve heard, being a grandparent is easier. That brings some joy.

I read the letter you sent your mother. I read it a few times. I lost count after seven. You’re not so wrong with your telling of me. I was in the antaam. I tried to make your mother laugh often. We did hold hands when we shouldn’t have. Due to your existence, you know we fled together, children ourselves. We chose love over duty. We abandoned the Qun.

I never told you of the walk Hissrad and I took the day we met. You were right. It was awkward. I hoped for a moment to compose myself. Perhaps find a man to hit me with a stick. Of course, Hissrad chose to join me. We walked along the battlements for some time. He was quiet, as I was quiet. We reached a corner and overlooked the endless mountains. I asked him about the necklace. Your mother and I had never told you of this. Kadans and necklaces of Kadans were a memory we left behind. It had to be his idea. He kept a blank face. I presume he was a very good Hissrad. After some contemplation, he said (translated for your sake), “I mentioned it off hand. We killed a dragon less than a week later. I thought we were just having fun, but she surprised me. She constantly surprises me.” I asked if he loved you. He said yes. I asked if he loved you as the Qunari he was or the Tal-Vashoth he pretended to be. He said (again, translated for your sake. You need to learn more Qunlat. The child should know Qunlat), “Both. I love her as the friend and companion I’d get to have in Par Vollen. I love her as a Tal-Vashoth would love whomever they chose.” When I asked about the Qun and when he’d be pulled back to Par Vollen, he gave meaningless answers. He’d spent too much time around bas, he’d forgotten how to talk to men like men.

Imekari, I was wrong. He’s dead. He died obeying orders. But, presuming this new imekari—Imekari II? Small imekari? Ari-imekari? I’ll discuss with Tama—was not of your planning, he broke the Qun. He knew how to control his seed. We all grow up knowing, waiting to be called for breeding. He made a choice. He violated the Qun.

He died Tal-Vashoth. I wish he had lived to fulfill that betrayal of the Qun. The child will come. Tama and I will come too, to discuss and guide. For now, I’ve enclosed something that gave me great comfort during our great suffering.

You’re still a Kadan. You’ve always been our Kadan.

Your Father,

Beres

Behind his letter there was another piece of paper. I opened it slowly, the creases deep and discolored. Inside was a drawing, crude, of a little house. Two Qunari stood, both smiling. The drawing was labeled, “This will be our house. This is where the goats will sleep. This is where the goats will chase the chickens. This is where Veda will play. This is where Tama will sing to Veda. This is where Pa will squeeze Veda on days the Maker didn’t bring kindness to school.” A smaller Qunari reached both hands up, a parent grabbing each hand. At the bottom, it said, “Home.”

I read and re-read the letter. When my hand drifted to my belly, I let it rest.

22 notes · View notes

kkysolo · 4 years ago

Text

Stuck On You / Chpt. 2

Prologue / Chapter One

Pairing: Ben Solo|Kylo Ren/Reader (female) Setting: Modern AU - Cyberpunk, dystopia, gangs, best friends to lovers. Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, language, emotional reactions, classism, poverty, war, co-dependent relationships (eventual fluff, smut, romance).

A/N: Yeah, I know I said I wasn’t gonna post this story on tumblr anymore because of the anxiety posting on here causes me, but here we are in our clown shoes posting anyway. There is a major language warning for this chapter. Listen, I grew up in a pretty small town in Ireland where many of us were from poorer households and swearing as punctuation just seemed to be how we all spoke growing up. So that’s been a huge inspiration for how our characters in this story speak, though their circumstances are far more dire. Also, a very dialogue heavy chapter. Also, I tend to write in second-person omniscient, which is why you’ll see a lot of head-hopping.

Fic Summary:

The year is 2084.

Despite its advances, society has collapsed on itself. The world is crooked, damaged, dying. Rezoned into new territories, separating the elite from the unworthy. Civilization is crumbling at your very feet, and in the midst of it all, your best friend, Ben Solo, has been missing for three years. You desperately cling to what’s left of him, hoping that he’ll come home, praying that things will fall back into place.

And then he does. And they don’t. Because life is different when you’re a scoundrel in the midst of a class war.

Available under the cut, and here on AO3

You wake with a start, inhaling sharply as your eyes adjust to the morning light. It cracks through a crooked break in the rotting window shutters, the black paint has long since flaked away to expose it’s decaying wood. You yawn, nuzzling into your pillow. You relish in the quiet of mornings like these - a brief sliver of serenity, of tranquility, amidst a raging war. There’s no patrols this morning, no roar of ion engines, no gunshots, no screaming. No sound, no peep at all from the hell you’ve come to live in. Just the quiet rumble of resistance vehicles, the soothing hum of conversing pedestrians. You stretch, elongating your limbs as you turn away from the window, groggily humming as you do.

And then, you see him. And then, you scream.

The pitch of your glass-shattering screech startles him awake, and he jumps out of his sleeping position - his head resting heavily against his fist, his elbow supporting his upper body weight on the arm of one of the only two chairs you own. You scuttle backward frantically, your back hitting the wall - you couldn’t afford a headboard even if you saved. Your bed doesn’t even have a frame.

“Woah,” he grunts. “You scared the shit out of me.”

You blink. You can feel it, the panic. You know it’s coming, and you try in vain to calm your heart as it begins to race, pounding against your flesh. You can hear it in your ears, can hear the blood draining from your face. Your breathing starts to catch in your throat as your chest tightens, and you think, for a moment, that you might vomit all over your knees.

“You look like you’re going to puke,” he comments, rising from his seat. He steps closer to you, but you flinch, and your breathing only accelerates. “It’s alright, it’s just me, it’s Ben,” his tone drops to a soothing murmur as he continues his approach. “It’s just me, sunshine.”

It’s the nickname that does it, that throws you over the edge. Sobs erupt from your chest with a force, causing you to cough and choke as tears start to spurt, cascading down your cheeks and streaming past your lips. The bed dips as he appears beside you, pulling you to him, right into his chest - and the feeling, how it feels to finally have you like this again, right in front of him, your skin beneath his fingertips, your hair tickling the plains of his cheeks. The moment, this indulgent little fragment of repose, it doesn’t last. You thrash against him, shoving him away with every ounce of strength you can muster first thing in the morning.

“What the fuck, Ben?” You wail, kicking him away and scooting to the opposite side of the bed. “W-what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to wake up,” he says - and calmly, too. Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You look at him incredulously, frantically wiping the tears from your face. Your shock is replaced by a glower.

“Where have you been,” you grit out, enunciating each word with as much venom as you can. “For the past three fucking years?”

Ben pauses, eyes falling to the floor.

“Smuggling,” he mumbles, almost too low for you to hear.

“Smuggling,” you repeat the word indignantly. “You left us. You left the Resistance, your family, me, to go and fucking smuggle?”

“It’s not that simpl-”

You cut him off. You don’t care if it’s not that simple. Everything is that simple.

“Well what the fuck are you smuggling?” “Just weapons at first, but now with the whole alcohol thing-” “Jesus, Ben, how the fuck did you end up in this mess?” “The Knights of Ren-” “The Kni- the fucking bounty hunters? The fucking gang? Are you fucking for real?” “They fucking found me on the outer rim on that mission with a top tier warrant on my head!” “And?”

“Wh-” Ben looks at you incredulously, mouth half hanging open. “What the fuck do you mean ‘and’? They cut me a deal, I work for them, they don’t hand me over to the Empire.”

“Work for them? What, you’re hunting bounties, now? Picking us off?”

Ben shifts backward in surprise, a hand running through his raven hair. It’s longer now, than it used to be.

“No, Jesus. The deal was that I bring in their credits. I smuggle whatever they want me to, I do whatever they want me to - they keep me away from the Empire, and they leave the Resistance alone.” “Sounds like a sweet fucking deal, bet you’re living the life of luxury,” you fold your arms across your chest, sniffling quietly.

“Well, I made them enough fucking credits,” he makes a gesture of exasperation with his hands. “But I don’t get a cut. Them leaving you alone is payment enough, as far as they’re concerned. They lose a lot of fucking money not picking up your bounties,” he pauses for a moment, his eyes that had settled on the ground now snap up to meet yours. “Do you know you’ve got a second tier warrant on you?”

You ignore him. Of course you know.

“I can’t believe that’s what you were doing, that that’s where you were.” “I was staying alive,” “We needed you.” “And what fucking use would I have been to anyone dead?” He roars, and you jump only slightly. “What fucking use am I to you if I’m dead?” “You were as good as, you dick.” “I always knew I was coming back,” he tries to settle his temper. “I couldn’t have left you forever.” “You left for long enough, didn’t you, though? Because we didn’t know you were coming back.” “I couldn’t-” “You could have fucking called!” You shriek. “I texted your stupid fucking phone every fucking time I thought of you, which was all the damn time.” “I know,” he murmurs. “I got them. Your voicemail, too.”

You can’t help the whimper that escapes you. It feels somewhat like your whole life has just shattered around you.

“I fucking hate you,” you sob. “I absolutely fucking hate you.”

“No,” Ben murmurs, and he reaches for you again. You swat at him. “You don’t, sunshine. You know you don’t.”

“I do,” you cry. But Ben shakes his head again, and you don’t even see, don’t even notice that he’s crying, that he’s been crying.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” he whispers. “Please,” and he tries again - arms winding around your waist as he pulls you to him, sliding you onto his lap. You don’t resist this time. Your head lolls against his chest as you cry, and cry and cry and cry until it feels like your throat is coated in splinters. And he holds you like that, while your hands clutch at his shirt, bunching it in your fists, and he rocks you gently. Humming softly as his own tears drip down onto your scalp. Humming a song - that song. Your song.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

_______________________________________________________________________

“She can’t see me,” Ben toys with his coffee cup. He sits, hunched over at your kitchen table - if you can call a decaying wooden crate with two chairs as much. “She can’t know.”

“You’re not gonna tell your own mother that you’re alive?” You’re standing at the counter, watching him from a safe distance. Your anger, your fury has simmered, but hasn’t dissipated. “What the fuck has happened to you?”

“I’m not supposed to be here,” he grits, grinding his teeth. You’ve always hated when he does that. The noise of it would wake you during the night when you’d both shared a closet-sized bedroom some years ago. You’d shared a damp mattress, too. Mold ridden and lumpy and cold.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“Then why did you?”

Ben rolls his eyes.

“What fucking good is it explaining anything to you? You don’t listen.” “I’ve been listening.”

“Well, you’re not fucking hearing me, then,” he mumbles, focusing his attention on your feet instead of your face. He’s irritated, irate with himself for thinking this would be easy - that you’d leap into his arms without a second thought. Because really, you’ve always been this way. Stubborn, unyielding. The two things he’s always so deeply admired about you are now serving only to undermine his feeble plan.

“Even if you did want to tell her, she’s leaving on a mission today.” “And dad?” “Going with her,” you sip at your own coffee. It tastes of used filters. “You know Han doesn’t let her go alone.”

Ben nods solemnly, twirling his cup in his hands.

“I came for you,” he murmurs. “That’s why I’m here.” “For me?”

“I needed to see you,” his voice drops an octave, and it trembles only slightly as he speaks. “And I can keep you safe.”

You scoff. The concept of safety has been long lost on you. For years now, you’ve endured, survived - but you’ve lost sleep, jumping awake at the sound of an ion engine. You’ve lost blood, lost hair, lost half your sanity simply trying to stay alive.

“There’s no safety, not here, not anywhere.”

“I can keep you safe,” he springs up from his seat, knocking his empty cup over as he does. “But you need to trust me.”

“What about your parents? Your friends?”

He’s inches from you now, biting at his lip in that way that he does, the way that makes them red raw and swollen. He’s determined, adamant that this will work - that you’ll hear him, that you’ll come with him. He needs to know that the past three years haven’t been in vain, that they haven’t been for nothing, that his work, his fucking slavery meant something.

“My parents don’t need my help, you know that as well as I do,” he murmurs, his voice dropping deeper. “They’re untouchable. You aren’t.”

“None of us are.”

“You’re my priority,” he insists, and the power he holds with his stance, his figure that looms over you alone almost convinces you of it - that you are.

“Didn’t feel like that when you fucking disappeared,” you grumble, not stepping back when he moves closer. “And I don’t see how you’re going to be able to protect me. Ben Solo the smuggler, what hold do you have on the Empire?”

He cocks an eyebrow, his honey eyes twinkling as a soft smirk forms on his lips - and all you can think of is trouble, because that smirk, those eyes - they’ve never led to anything good.

“Ben Solo? Nothing,” he shrugs. “Kylo Ren, though? Everything.”

#gonna go run off and drown myself in gin now #god i hate posting dslkjf #i hope you like this so far guys #eek #my writing #stuck on you #kylo ren #ben solo #kylo ren x reader #ben solo x reader #kylo ren x you #ben solo x you #cw: language #cw: emotional reactions

53 notes · View notes

catflorist · 4 years ago

Text

The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

pt 3: marked

Sakura was right. He did not see the ocean the next time he slipped. The world was ending.

The ground beneath him shook. A boom sounded in the distance, followed by screaming. Sasuke activated his Sharingan. Through the thick smoke, he glimpsed five faces carved into a mountainside. A voice, hoarse from shouting, was calling Naruto’s name. He weaved his way through the wreckage towards Sakura, desperate to glean when he was. Sakura whirled. No diamond marked her forehead. She did not look much older than him. Sasuke’s breath caught. Konoha would be destroyed within the year. “Sasuke?” she cried. “Go!” “What’s happening?” he demanded. Her eyes widened. An ear-shattering rumble drowned out her words. The watchtower next to them was collapsing. Sasuke dodged the deadliest debris, but something heavy and sharp caught his temple. He fell to his knees, blinking stars from his vision.

A cool shadow fell over Sasuke’s face. He looked up in time to see the tower tipping over above him. In half a breath it would crush his bones. Sakura’s fist collided with the structure, splintering it apart.

Sasuke lifted an arm to protect his face as chunks of wood, stone, and tile rained down upon them. Sakura straightened, her shoulders heaving. She stood tall and firm against the reddened sky. “It’s not a good time, Sasuke,” she said over her shoulder. Sasuke would have made it away, but Sakura had taken no chances.

Pins and needles pricked his fingers. Sasuke’s lungs no longer burned with smoke. Sunlight poured into the living room of a small apartment. In the distance, birds chirped.

Sakura swept into the room, wearing a pink dress and a diamond mark. “You’re bleeding,” she exclaimed. Sasuke touched the slick trail of blood flowing down his face. His head felt fuzzy.

“Can I heal you?” An unexplained wound would trigger Orochimaru’s suspicions. “Fine,” he resigned. “Sit down,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” Sasuke sank into the cushions of Sakura’s couch. He could not make out the titles on her bookshelf. Sakura returned with a bowl of water and a cloth slung over her shoulder. “Is this all right?” Her fingers hovered near the side of his face. She waited for him to nod.

Her hands lit with green chakra. She touched her fingertips to his temple. Sasuke did not know where to look, so he stared at his hands. The warmth of her chakra soothed his aching skull, clearing the dizziness from his head. Sakura wet the cloth and dabbed at the blood on his face. As she moved, the aroma of lavender floated from her skin and hair. Sasuke frowned. In the past, he had appeared before Sakura halfway through her breakfast. He had woken her up in the middle of the night and just finished distracting her in the midst of battle. But only now, smelling her carefully applied perfume, did he feel as if he were interrupting. Not that it mattered.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I slipped…” Sasuke paused, but Sakura did not look confused. Apparently, she knew his terminology. What else would he tell her? He continued, with a glare, “Konoha was under attack. You were there.” Sakura lowered her hand. “I remember now. That was a year ago.” “What happened to the village?” “Do you want to look for yourself?” Sakura gestured to the open window.

Sasuke could not understand why she was so calm. He crossed the room and looked out.

Minutes before the village was in ruins. Now there were no signs of destruction. Konoha was cheerful in the afternoon sun. It was the same village Sasuke remembered and yet it was not. Colorful rooftops shone with fresh paint. Streets followed a loose grid, when before they wound and tangled together. The street sign design had changed, but the shape of the streetlamps had not. It was a Konoha constructed from memories, from dreams. From behind, Sakura said simply, “We rebuilt.” Sasuke turned. “The Uchiha compound…”

“It’s safe,” she said. “Untouched.”

“Why did you show this to me?” “I thought this was important for you to know.” She shrugged. “Besides, I don’t have curtains.”

Sasuke’s ears rang with the sound of Sakura screaming Naruto’s name. “How’s the dobe?” The question lacked subtlety, but he needed to know. Too late, he arranged his features in a scowl.

A smile played on Sakura’s lips. She smoothed the skirt of her dress. “I’m going to see him right now.” As Sasuke exhaled a quiet breath, Sakura grimaced. “Actually, I’m late.” Sasuke bristled. Every time he encountered Sakura, he left with more questions. Meanwhile, nothing he did ever fazed her. He had materialized in her apartment and bled on her couch and she did not bat an eye. And now she would continue on with her plans for the day—plans that involved Naruto, perfume, a pink dress. “Don’t let me keep you,” he jested. “You look nice.” He was not lying. For once Sakura was speechless. Sasuke did not think he imagined the flush rising to her cheeks.

His stomach twisted in satisfaction. He felt the urge to crack her cool composure again. “I know things about you that you don’t know yet,” he taunted.

You’ll go to the sea. You’ll be waiting for something. You’ll have a child. He almost wanted to tell her right then, to see how she would react. When Sakura smiled, Sasuke realized his blunder. “I know things about you, too,” she said, gentle and steady, like a promise. Sasuke wished he could stay, to unravel what her expression meant. But he jerked back to his time. His chamber was not empty. A pale face gleamed in the dark. “You’ve been lying to me, Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru cooed. He smiled mournfully. “Where do you go all these nights, when your chakra signature disappears?” He edged closer. He smelled sickly sweet, like rotting flowers. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” A cold bead of sweat trickled down the back of Sasuke’s neck. It was now or never. “I don’t belong to you,” Sasuke said. “I won’t be your vessel.” Orochimaru’s eyes iced over. “It is not up to you,” he hissed. He rolled a lock of Sasuke’s hair between his fingertips. Growling, Sasuke swatted his hand away. Rage, determination, and strength erupted in his chest. He lunged towards Orochimaru. Halfway between his first and second step, Sasuke knew he would win the fight. Orochimaru’s essence decomposed and bled into his own. Sasuke left and did not look back. . . By the time Sasuke assembled his team he was well past seventeen.

“We are now Hebi,” he informed Karin, Suigetsu, and Jugo. “Our purpose is to locate my brother Itachi. After we find him, I will kill him.” They stopped by the abandoned city of Sora-ku to visit Nekoba and gather supplies. Near the outskirts of the city they set up camp and prepared to cook their first hot meal in weeks. “Oh, Suigetsu?” Karin called. Suigetsu was wrestling with his knife, half-sunken and stuck within a head of cabbage. “Yes?” “Are you good with the sword?” Karin tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear, gesturing to the Executioner’s Blade propped up against Suigetsu’s belongings. “I’d say so,” he said, smiling under Karin’s attention. Grasping the knife handle, he hit the cabbage against the cutting board and managed to hack it in half on the third strike. Karin scowled. “Then why can’t you handle chopping a vegetable?” “What’s wrong with my chopping?” he complained. After years spent at the Kusagakure hideout, Sasuke had grown accustomed to stale air, torchlight, and long stretches of solitude. Now he was surrounded by bodies eating, bickering, and snoring near him. It was an adjustment. “I don’t know where to begin,” Karin said. Sasuke opened his mouth to plead for their silence, then stopped short. He held out his hand for the knife. “I’ll do it.” Suigetsu conceded, and Sasuke took his place. He peeled away the wilted outer leaves of the cabbage and sliced through its bulk with fluid movements. “That’s some fancy knifework,” Suigetsu said, as Sasuke made quick work of an onion and flew on to the garlic. “I didn’t know you could cook.” Sasuke scowled. “Of course I know.” Every shinobi knew how to feed themselves. He yawned into his shoulder without slowing the movement of his knife. “But not like that,” Suigetsu said. Sasuke put down the knife. A mound of delicately sliced vegetables trembled on the cutting board. “Aa,” he acknowledged. “How did you learn?” Karin asked. Sasuke didn’t answer. He had learned from time spent in a neglected, dim scullery at the Kusagakure hideout. From fending for himself in his Konoha apartment as an Academy student. From watching his mother. They continued on with preparing their meal. Jugo tended to the rice and Karin added oil and garlic to the pan heating over the fire. Sasuke sounded a tsk. “It will burn if you add it now.” Karin, normally timid around Sasuke, scowled and tightened her grip on the handle. “No, it won’t.” The garlic burned. Sasuke wisely did not say a word. As they ate, Karin said, “I blame Suigetsu,” ignoring his cry of protest. Jugo offered Suigetsu a sympathetic look. “You’ll do better next time,” he reassured him.

Sasuke held back a smirk. It was all an adjustment. . . Sasuke found himself pinned against a wall of rock. Itachi trudged towards him, but Sasuke could not move, could not go on for any longer. Itachi smiled, the same smile he reserved only for his brother, and brushed his fingertips against Sasuke’s brow. His hand fell away, then his body fell without making a sound. Sasuke’s vision tunneled. He slumped to the rocky ground. His mind was merciful, and granted him unconsciousness. When Sasuke stirred, he was lying on tatami. Without opening his eyes, he rasped, “He’s dead.” Sakura said, “I know.” With ginger movements, he shifted to sit up. But there was no pain. His wounds were already healed. Sasuke’s body shook. It was over, and all he felt was a gnawing absence. He did not see the face of the murderous killer that haunted his nightmares. He only saw the way his older brother’s solemn eyes used to crinkle as he tapped Sasuke’s forehead and promised, Maybe next time. The normal passage of time never applied to Sasuke. Now it slowed to a halt as he sank into grief, unable to name what he was mourning. After an eternity, Sasuke became aware of a strange noise ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes.

Though he did not recall moving, he was clenching Sakura’s hand with all his strength, so hard it must have hurt.

Sakura’s head was turned to the hall. The tiny wail did not stop. It was a sound he had not heard since he was a child, surrounded by dozens of aunts, uncles, cousins, and their children. A baby was crying.

“Forgive me,” Sakura whispered. She gently untangled their fingers, and Sasuke nearly whimpered from the loss of her touch. She returned with a dark-haired baby and sat next to him. “Yours?” The question rose unbidden to his lips. Sakura didn't respond. Then again, Sasuke wasn’t sure if he had spoken aloud.

The baby blinked serious eyes. In his delirium, Sasuke saw Itachi. His dead brother looked at him again through the new life in Sakura’s arms.

Sasuke shook his head, but the baby still wore his Itachi’s eyes. His own eyes. “Yes,” Sakura said. “She’s mine.” Sasuke’s head spun with vertigo, and he knew his time with her was almost done. He fought to cling to consciousness, but it was too much.

As his vision darkened, something caught him. The floor rose slowly to kiss his cheek. On the edges of his awareness he heard a voice. “It’s going to get harder.” A cool hand smoothed the hair from his brow. “You’ll need to be strong.”

Sasuke woke up again in a cavernous, dark room. The warm, grassy aroma of tatami was gone, replaced with the funk of mold and stale water. “Sakura?” he whispered. His hope was short-lived. When he sat up, metal clinked. Chains grew out of cuffs on his wrists, restraining him to the wall. A mask floated in the air, as orange as lava, spiraling like a seashell into a singular opening above the right eye. “Who is Sakura?” the mask hummed. Sasuke flinched. The mask drew closer, until torchlight revealed the cloaked body to which it belonged. It was Tobi, the cowardly Akatsuki member, but it was not. “Who are you?” Sasuke said. The light in the room flickered. The figure said, “I am Uchiha Madara.” Sasuke learned the truth about Itachi and the Uchiha massacre. Sakura had not lied. Everything became harder. Madara did not give him a moment to think, to process, to mourn, before he said, “There is something else.”

Sasuke could not bear anything else.

“You bear the mark of a powerful doujutsu. The Rinnegan,” he breathed. “After I found you, your body disappeared. When you reappeared, your wounds were healed.” Madara’s eye flashed. “You went somewhere else. To a time that is not your own.” Blood pounded in Sasuke’s ears. “The wielder of the Rinnegan may cross barriers in time and space. Already, time ripples differently around you. You are marked. One day you will possess its power.” “How do you know this?” Sasuke asked. The shadows in the room bent towards Madara. “Because I am also marked.” Sasuke finally knew something about his future, the cause of the time-slipping he had experienced his whole life. But there was no pleasure that came with the clarity. He was a container filled to the brim with water. He couldn’t hold anymore. “When you disappear, where do you go?” Madara asked, a curious lilt to his voice. “The ocean,” Sasuke replied, fixing Madara with his darkest stare. “Where do you go?” The eye beneath the mask narrowed. “The Rinnegan’s mark reveals, across all time and distance, that to which you are tied.” Sasuke was tired. “Where are my teammates?” They were clustered by a cliff overlooking the ocean, robes flapping in the breeze. Leaving Madara behind, Sasuke made his way to them. He sat with his legs dangling off the edge of the earth. Without a word, Karin, Jugo, and Suigetsu shifted their bodies to shield him from Madara’s probing gaze. Surrounded by their protection, Sasuke’s face twisted up. His body shuddered with silent sobs.

Nothing in this world looked the same now that he knew the truth—from the lines of his own hands, to the dying sun shimmering upon the water. This time, diving into the ocean would not end his nightmare. Once he could speak, he said, “We are now Taka. Our mission is to destroy Konoha.” Sasuke had witnessed Konoha’s destruction with his own eyes. It must have been him. The expressions of his teammates faltered. “What did he tell you?” Karin wondered, as Suigetsu stammered, “Are you sure?” Sasuke’s fists clenched. “Don't question me,” he snapped. When Madara extended an offer to join the Akatsuki, Sasuke accepted. . . . .

Up next: Sasuke has some more choices to make. He grows closer to seeing Sakura in real time.

Notes: Look up the story of Ninigi and Sakuya if you'd like to see some of my inspiration for this story, and specifically why everyone is thinking about the ocean (besides the fact that I wanted to write Sakura chilling by some tide pools).

Heads up that all interactions are consensual and age appropriate in this fic. I also envision Sasuke to be 18 in the next chapter. (Fun fact: I wrote an angsty smut scene that didn't make it into this story, but maybe that scene will appear elsewhere on its own or in another work, lol.)

Thank you for reading!! The response to this fic so far has blown me away. My favorite comments are all the people saying they want to live by the ocean now (same), or that they are reading this fic even though it's rated T and they love smut too much. You're all amazing!

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #ss fic #ss #my ss #my fic #the time being

40 notes · View notes

troublesometrollhunters · 4 years ago

Note

Thank you for your Morando content, there really isn’t enough of it out there. Since requests are open, could you do a yandere Morando with a reader who was a former lover. They refused to join him when he went into exile and now live with a new partner. When he comes back for them and finds out, he’s furious, killing them in front of the reader, I hope this made sense and isn’t too much, thank you!

The relationship had grown toxic.

Early on it was romantic and light hearted. He dreamed of commanding fleet ships while you dreamed of noble work and bettering Airkirdion. You both had your aspirations and you both made sacrifices to help each other achieve your goals.

When peace reigned and the war stopped you were relieved. You could spend more time with Morando. You could be happy knowing your people and it's children were safe. That your furture child would be safe. But Mornado didn't care for the safety of your world nor did he approve of the King and Queens rule.

Slowly you saw Morando cared only for his plans. He no longer thought of you or your needs. Your thoughts on the matter were worthless and he refused to listen to reason as he talked about overthrowing them and becoming the strongest planet again. So when the time came and it was safe you turned him in for treason. The King and Queen were close allies and friends to you if Morando thought you'd turn on them he truly knew nothing of you. His sick desires had blinded him and because of them he'd lost everything. Including you.

"... You seem troubled." Jolting out of your thoughts you stare as the King joins you on the castles balcony. Bowing embarrassed Fialkov simply laughs. His hand gently touches your shoulder and you feel your face grow warm despite the cool air.

"(Y/N) your a friend not a subject. Please don't feel the need to bow." He says simply. Coranda nods and you feel yourself relax once more. Morando wasn't here. You were safe and the King and Queen were your friends. Nodding you smile and they smile back making your core glow.

"... I know you didn't want to come." Coranda says softly a hand reaching out and holding yours. "... but I'm glad you did. You shouldn't miss tonight just because of something your unbonded did." She assures.

Humming you tak a sip of your drink and turn staring out at the stars. Morando was out there somewhere in a prison rotting. It had been months but still without him a small part of you felt empty. Touching your core you curse him silently.

Here you were at a party celebrating the King and Queens anniversary of peace and you couldn't stop yourself from thinking of that war monger. Kleb him!

The lights flash from the party casting shadows through the curtains. Looking into your drink purple and blue light illuminating your face you sigh.

"I feel guilty being here." You admit quietly. Your fingers tap against the glass your holding and the King and Queen look concerned. You frown thinking of Morando as music from the party fills the tense silence. Taking a deep breath you look up at your closest friends. "... It took so long to confess to his crimes. To confess he wasn't the brave fire pilot and kind warrior I once knew..." Tears well in your eyes as you stare into your drink. Closing your eyes body weak you lean against the castles balcony wishing for balance. "If anything happened to you two... Krel and Aja are so young... And the balance of this world..." You mumble. If you hadn't admitted the truth and asked for help when you did your friends may not be with you here now. Krel and Aja may not be here now. Shaking you feel a hand gently take your drink as another massages your stiff shoulders.

"(Y/N) this is a party! A celebration. Don't think of such things. You are safe. You are with friends and family! Come join! And be happy. Dance. Drink. Please. We hate seeing you like this." Fialkov says genuinely as he pulls at your hand.

"We have someone we'd like you too meet." Coranda adds with a mischievous smile. Staring at her suspiciously she winks and you gawk as they force you back inside. Unable to fight your King and Queen you follow them not liking what you think their planning.

"(Y/N). Meet the new fighter pilot of Airkirdion. Ryder this is our good friend (Y/N)." Staring at the pilot cheeks tinting blue they smile and take your hand. They're exceedingly pleasant to look at and you feel your core beginning to glow.

Bright green eyes meet your (e/c) ones as they smile at you and your face bursts into blue.

"Hello (Y/N). Would you care for a dance?" Staring at their features taking in their kind attitude and soft demeanor you nod, not missing the King and Queens smirk as your whisked away into the dancing crowd.

~~~

Years later and you've rebonded to the pilot the Queen and King had introduced you too.

Happy in your new home with your new life you stand on the balcony high above the city and remember that ball night fondly. It was the eve of your wedding and you were celebrating with some much needed time off with your beloved.

Swaying as you stare at the stars your new partner sneaks behind you wrapping their arms around your waist as they kiss up and down your neck. Giggling at their antics they smile nuzzling you.

"Love we have another week before we return to work, what do you want to do?" They question humming softly as they stare at the sky with you. You feel at peace as you lean against them.

"I don't know I..." You hear a small zap noise. Something sticky is on the back of your neck and there's a sound like malfunctioning tech. You smell fried metal and the feeling of arms around you fades before altogether it disappears. "... Love?" You question. You receive no answer. "Ryder?"

Confused you turn before letting out a loud scream.

Morando stood there with a sadistic smile on his face. He held a ray gun loosely from his fingertips as he look at you. The gun glowed with excess energy from just being fired and you realized the sticky stuff on the back of your neck was your deceased partners blood. Shaking you feel tears form in your eyes as you take a step back. Morando tilts his head pouting as he steps forward arms wide as if wanting a hug.

Your eyes widen as his boot crunches your beloveds core. Tears streaking down your face you charge at him!

"NO YOU MONSTER!" Pounding at his chest he laughs and blocks your pitiful attacks. You were a politician not a warrior, he fell for your brain not your brawn. You knew this but you wanted some sort of vengeance for your partner. You wanted to claw Morandos core out but you were too weak.

Sobbing your eyes out he hums taking off his cape and putting it around you in a comforting gesture, something he used to do for you whenever you were sad. Punching at his chest he tsks and strokes your face uncaring of your feelings or weak attacks.

"You once called me love. Have you truly moved on so quickly?" He murmurs into your ear. Struggling against him he smirks pulling you closer. One hand wraps around your waist while the other ruffles through your hair. "I missed you..." He murmurs forcing his lips against yours. Struggling he finally pulls away with a deranged smile. Humming softly he pushes hair out of your face and kisses your forehead. "And now that we're together again nothing can tear us apart."

61 notes · View notes

snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years ago

Text

summer sizzle | blackout - trent beretta [m]

[prompts used]

As suggested by my lovely Lemon.. Lean into the awkwardness. Ahhh.. I fucking hope this is exactly what you pictured bc I legit couldn’t have made this idea FINALLY work without your input.

** the rest of these prompts come from various lists I squirreled away on the internets. One day, I need to sit down and link to every single list I’ve used. Until then, credit to the prompt creators, I own literally nothing but the scenario and the original character **

Don’t look away + catching someone undressing + “I thought you didn’t peek!” “I don’t have to peek to know you’re hot.” ( belongs to Lemon, btw) + Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force. + “You’re so beautiful.” - Trent Beretta | Roommates/mutual pining au

[pairing]

Trent Beretta x OFC

[warnings]

18+ only. All kids, exit stage left fucking yesterday pls and thanks? uhhh.. this is so fluffy it’ll rot ya teeth. because i didn’t see Trent being any other way. Body fluids. Oral (male giving), masturbation, heaavy sexual tension. OH YEAHH... unprotected sex.

[tag squad]

@kyleoreillysknee

@rampagewriting

@writertoo18

@thatnerdwriter

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@waywardwrestlewritingwaif

@sassymox

@wardl0w

@missjenniferb

@wrestlingthot

@unabashedwrestlefics

[ tag list - masterlist - about page ]

TRENT BERETTA in BLACKOUT,

Just as I shut the door to the apartment, the storm raging outside reached a fever pitch, a clap of thunder loudly rattling the window and momentarily sending the lights to flicker. I tugged off my soaked jacket and scarf, letting them settle on the floor next to Trent’s gym bag and I sat my messenger bag and keys down on the table before bending down to pull off the boots I was wearing. My feet were killing me, it’d been a really long day and all I wanted right now was a hot shower.

Literally nothing else mattered but getting out of my wet clothing and getting warm again.

“Trent! I’m home!” I called out to my roommate. I paused for a minute or two and waited. When he didn’t say anything, I figured that he might be asleep because he’d gotten a late flight in the night before. So I made my way down the hall quietly and stepped into the bathroom, wasting no time in peeling off my clothes. The lights flickered again and then I actually heard the shower running.

I froze in place, biting my lip.

Trent was obviously not asleep like I’d thought upon entering. No, he was showering and for the third time in a week, we’d managed to burst in on each other awkwardly. I was just about to back out of the bathroom and make a hasty retreat to my own room right beside it to wait it out, but then I heard him groaning.

When I heard him groaning my name, though, that’s when my knees turned to jelly. I was about to turn around and reach for the knob but the lights flickered and then went out completely.

“SHIT!” I shrieked before I even realized that I’d been trying to make a quiet exit. To keep things from getting any more awkward between the two of us. The shower cut off and Trent stepped out before my flight mode kicked in and for some stupid reason, rather than take a step back and hurry to leave the bathroom like I’d been intending, I took a step forward instead, slipping on my wet jeans. Trent reached out quickly, catching me just as I fell into him. I took a shaky breath and tried to brace myself to look up at him as my eyes adjusted to the lack of light. If I thought my knees were like jello before, it was so much worse now because the way hard muscles pressed against my softer body was both somehow sheer heaven and complete torture.

For a few seconds that felt like they dragged on for hours, the two of us stood there staring. I licked my lips and swallowed hard, stepping away reluctantly. Trent bit his lip and I watched helplessly as his throat bobbed when he swallowed hard.

The lights came on again and Trent realized that I’d come in and stripped down and he turned away quickly, a lingering “Fuck” mumbled under his breath after he called out to me, “I’m not looking!” once he was totally turned away. I grabbed for the nearest thing I could find to slip on and cover myself. Slipping his shirt over my head. Once I’d done it, I tapped Trent’s shoulder so he’d know it was safe to turn around.He turned around a little faster than I was expecting and we found ourselves body to body all over again. One of his hands raised, going to wet hair as he took a deep breath and then proceeded to burst into laughter.

I pouted, but then the humor in the whole thing hit me too and I nearly doubled over myself, a hand lightly resting against his bicep to keep myself upright. “Oh god, this is classic. I even managed to put on the wrong shirt.” I barely managed to get the words out through my laughter and Trent’s body brushed against mine. The laughter died on my lips as I remembered exactly what he’d been doing and whose name he’d moaned a time or two when I’d burst in on him a few minutes before and I could feel my skin heating up all over because naturally, my eyes darted down and I swallowed hard almost the second I realized that he was strained against the towel. I tore my eyes away quickly and walked my fingers up and down his chest, managing a quieter laugh. “I’m sorry, I..”

“It’s fine. I’m honestly not complaining. I had a good view.” Trent’s eyes locked on me and he gave this teasing little smirk as he shrugged.

It surprised me when he said it and I clenched my thighs tight as my eyes met his and I immediately felt myself getting lost in the depths. He gave me this almost teasing little grin and I took a breath. “I thought you didn’t peek!” I pouted up at him slightly as I tilted my head. My fingers caught in the curly ends of my hair and I twisted a curl around, tapping my foot at him, giving an amused soft giggle when his mouth opened and then closed and then opened again.

“I don’t have to peek to know you’re hot.” he muttered, a husky tone to his voice as he spoke.

My thighs went from slippery to flooded and I blinked as the words sank in. He stepped closer and our bodies rubbing together had a shiver passing through my body as he gazed down at me with a tender look in his eyes and his tongue trailed over the outline of his lips only making me want to raise to tiptoe, pull myself against him and pull his mouth down to cover mine. Just the thought of it had me squirming under his tender gaze.

“Back at you.” the words came tumbling out as I closed the distance between us just a little more. Trent’s arm shot out, wrapping around me to pull me even closer and my breath caught in my throat at the suddenness of it. “Back at me, huh?” he was leaning in a little, his nose bumping against mine. I gave in to the fit of giggles that kept threatening to take over and his fingertips dug into my lower back lightly. It was unintentional, but I rubbed against him and he groaned quietly. “Glad this is amusing to you.” he pretended to pout as he tilted my chin so that I had to look him in the eye instead of just staring at his chest, totally distracted. Turned on. Fully aware of the tension thickening in the air around us and not sure what to do about it.

“It’s not amusing. I mean it was funny, but..” I trailed off, blowing at hair as it flopped right down into my eyes.

“But?” Trent insisted, reaching out with his free hand to tuck the annoying fallen strand of wet hair behind my ear. The closer his face got to mine, the harder it was for me to think. To form words. If I could even come up with anything to say to begin with. I typically can’t around him, the man is a breathing distraction. Walking temptation.

“But I’m only laughing because it takes my mind off of other stuff.” I admitted it quietly, going awkward and about to look down when he tilted my chin again. I swallowed down the lump in my throat as I saw the way his eyes just kind of fixed on my lips as his tongue trailed slowly across his own.

“What other stuff?” his voice dropped lower, his mouth almost dangerously close to mine by this point. “Because if it’s anything like what I have in mind…” he trailed off in a groan because his mouth brushed clumsily against the corner of my lips. My fingertips dug into his pecs and I leaned against him just a little because if I didn’t I was almost certain I’d puddle to the floor of our bathroom.

I just thought things were intense between us lately. I honestly didn’t have a clue, come to find out.

“That depends on what you have in mind.” I muttered quietly, making myself lock eyes with him as our bodies rubbed against each other just a little more. Trent took one more step closer and my back met the edge of the counter behind me. The hand on my hip dug in, holding me against him and now he was staring at my lips like he had every intention in the world of kissing me.

And I wanted him to do it so badly that I could taste it. I was a breath away from raising to tiptoe and tangling my fingers in his hair just to pull his mouth against mine.

“What if.” Trent rubbed against me a little as he towered over me, his hands all over me. “Yeah?” my mouth grazed against the corner of his as I said it and he groaned quietly, the rest of his question coming in short and heavy pants, “What if I want to kiss you?”

“What if I want you to do more than that?” it slipped out in the heat of the moment before I could even be bothered to censor myself. I bit my lip and went to raise my hand to cover my mouth because honestly, I was shocked I’d said it out loud. Trent’s hand circled my wrist, lowering my hand from my mouth. He released my wrist and both hands wandered down, gripping my ass as he lifted me up and sat me on the edge of the counter, stepping closer all over again. I wrapped my legs around his waist and scooted myself closer to him, biting my lip as his lips inched closer to mine all over again. Agonizingly slow.

“What if I want to do more than that?” Trent muttered just as his mouth met mine, his lips latching on to my top lip, tugging at it slightly. I pressed myself against him heavily, my arms wrapping around his neck and my fingers tangling in his hair, giving a gentle tug. My legs squeezed at either side of his hips and it caused me to rub against him even more. His tongue slipped past my lips and my fingertips dug into broad shoulders and tugged at wet dark hair as I rubbed against him with more urgence. My tongue clashed with his and he moaned into my mouth, slipping me off the counter and wrapping me around his body as he carried me out of the bathroom and down the hall, into his bedroom without breaking the kiss. My body hit the mattress softly and Trent followed me down, settled over me, propped up with a forearm beside either side of my head as he deepened the kiss even more.

“Just so we’re clear.. You don’t want me to stop.” his words disappeared in the kiss and I breathed out against his lips raggedly the answer, “No.” as I opened my legs, a leg resting on either side of his body as he settled between them. My arms were back around his neck and my fingers caught in his hair all over again, tangling up in thick strands. His head bent, his lips dancing right over my pulse. My heart fluttered lazily as that ever-present sense of calm I felt whenever he was here with me took over.

“Trent.” my soft moan was smothered by his mouth as it dove back against mine. “Mhm?” the soft murmur against my lips to linger in the air for a split second before being swallowed up by a deepening of the gentle nipping kiss. My back arched away from his mattress and I rubbed against him, a ragged sigh escaping my throat.The kiss broke again and his forehead rested against mine. My fingers hooked in the chain around his neck, tugging his mouth back down against mine all over again, making him chuckle into the kiss, hands roaming and incapable of being still in one area of my body for too long.

And god did those hands feel like heaven against my skin. Each gentle touch had me squirming, struggling to rub against him just a little more. His hand drifted down, fingers splayed over my thigh as he squeezed and his teeth dug into my lower lip. He rocked himself against me, the two of us laughing quietly when our foreheads bumped together and he nearly fell on top of me completely.

“Trent, it’s okay. I’m not made of glass?” I teased gently, making him laugh as my fingertips trailed down the center of his chest, toying with the towel wrapped around his waist as his hand started to move up the hem of the t-shirt I was wearing to cover myself in. “I know.” he locked eyes with me, biting his bottom lip as he tugged the shirt up, tossing it onto the floor of his bedroom with a quiet groan lingering in the air as his eyes roamed slowly over my body. I pouted, squirming against him in a desperate bid for more friction, the sheer need to feel him pressing me into the mattress, his skin against mine. It was driving me crazy and it felt like the more I tried, the more he resisted, determined to draw it out.

“Trent.” I whined again, a shiver racing through me when he rocked himself against me all over again and his lips settled against my forehead. “What’s your hurry, doll?” the question was muttered against my skin in the softest teasing tone and all I could do was squeeze his hips with my legs and try to rock myself up and into him, my breath catching in my throat when as soon as I did that, I could really feel him straining harder against the thick towel.

“ Please?” I questioned, giving my best pleading pout as I gazed up at him. He chuckled, leaning down and into me, nuzzling his nose up against mine, damp hair tickling my forehead. As his body rubbed against me a little harder and his fingertips dug in, I rubbed back against him, my breath catching only to come out shaky. I trailed my fingertips just beneath the plush towel, giving a little tug at it, trying desperately not to seem needy but realizing that there was no way to control it.

With a tug, the towel came unwrapped and Trent tossed it into his bedroom floor, his lips meeting mine in a soft and noisy smack as he drawled lazily against my mouth, “Better, doll?”

“Much.” I gave a soft gasp at the feel of skin on skin. Hard muscles on a soft body. Trent’s mouth broke from mine and started to trail lightly down my throat, his teeth catching here and there, totally at random. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re kind of handsome too.” I teased, our lips bumping together clumsily. Trent’s teeth caught on my bottom lip, tugging. The soft wet smacks of our kisses seemed to linger in the air between us. My leg bumped against his side and his hand wandered down, squeezing my thigh, holding it there, staring down into my eyes. “Kind of handsome, huh? I could be hurt by that, doll.” he pretended to pout, giving a quiet laugh as his eyes roamed over me, lingering long enough to make me squirm and try rubbing against him all over again. He rubbed right back against me, making me moan softly when I felt his cock slip between my folds.

“Oh come off it, Trenty. You know exactly how sexy you are.” I mumbled as I softly planted my lips against the top of his chest, the feel of a strong and steady heartbeat against my lips comforting. They say that when you really love someone, you feel this sense of calm fill you and I was realizing just how true that was.

He grinned into the kiss, deepening it, his fingertips digging into my body as he rocked me against him all over again. “To be fair, so do you, you little flirt.” he muttered lazily against my mouth as his hands drifted up, one catching hold of both mine, holding them above my head. I pouted a little because he’d stopped kissing me and he wasn’t rubbing me against him anymore either and that ache that had been building only intensified. I needed him touching me, I needed to feel his body against mine, pressing me down into the mattress. I wanted him buried so deep inside that I couldn’t tell where one of us ended and the other began. The realization prompted me to let my legs circle his waist, trying to pull him flat against me, but he nipped at my throat, shaking his head no at me as he licked his lips.

“Trent.” another needy whine ripped from my mouth, swallowed up by his own when he worked his way back up my throat and crashed it against mine. His hand gripped my ass, squeezing as he rocked himself into me and muttered quietly, “If you had any clue how long I’ve wanted this…” his voice trailed away as his nose bumped against mine, our soft laughter lingering in the air for a few seconds. He pulled his mouth away from mine, rough lips venturing slowly down the front of my throat all over again.

A shiver wracked my body when I felt them dance across my collarbone and Trent moved himself lower down my body, positioning himself over me all over again. I reached up, fingers carding through thick wet hair and he gave a low growl before dipping his mouth down, little kitten licks against my breasts as his hands journeyed up my body and squeezed them together. “Trent!” I arched up towards him, his name catching in the air as his teeth scraped against my nipples and tugged.

His mouth crept even lower and I could feel my body tightening up, my pussy practically dripping and throbbing with need. My toes caught in the plaid comforter on his bed and my fingertips dug into his shoulders lightly and I could feel them moving beneath as a shiver passed through. His eyes met mine again as he sank lower, teeth grazing right against the soft surface of my skin as he gave quiet groans. The hand in his hair gave a light tug and it only seemed to encourage him to keep going… But so much slower.

Each slow roll of his tongue over my skin had me squirming beneath him, whimpering and all but begging for it. He chuckled soft against my tummy, his beard leaving a tickling burn against my skin as his mouth worked lower. When I giggled, he stopped and looked up at me, licking his lips and winking. “Keep forgetting how ticklish you are.”

I rose up slightly, extending a hand and catching hold of his jaw to pull his mouth against mine greedily as I mumbled against his lips, “This has nothing to do with me being ticklish.” a teasing wink as the kiss broke and we pulled away from each other. His mouth dove down to my stomach again, his arms hooking beneath my legs as he spread them wider and settled between them. I clutched at the top of his head as his tongue ghosted my navel, rocking myself against him a little. The more I squirmed and moaned, the slower he moved.

Torturing me. Naturally.

When he pressed a kiss against my pelvic mound I bit my lip, tensing in anticipation. Everything happening right now was literally straight out of one of my more wild dreams about the man and yet.. So much more.

By the time his tongue was circling at my clit, my fingers were digging into his shoulders and his hair and all I could do was whimper and rock my hips upward as that ache built even more, sending a slippery wet rush down my inner thighs.

A slippery wet rush that Trent stopped to lick clean, teeth scraping at skin just a little. Beard burning up the insides of my thighs as his mouth moved higher and higher and two fingers worked me open carefully, a quiet growl escaping his mouth when he realized just how wet I was. “Fuck.” his breath was warm against sensitive skin and I felt goosebumps all over as his tongue rolled lazily right up my center and back around my clit. When his lips locked on the circular bundle of nerves, I sucked in a sharp breath only to have it catch in my throat as his fingers delved deeper inside, stretching me out a little. The soft wet sounds hung heavily in the air and I tried literally everything I could think of just to keep from actually crying in frustration at how slow and tender and focused Trent was on what he was doing.

My toes curled against the comforter as his tongue joined his fingers, soft wet slurps filling the air and competing with my whimpers and whining in volume. “Trent, ahh.. Oh..”

When I rocked my hips upward to meet his tongue and fingers, he chuckled quietly against my pussy, muttering a softly spoken “Sweet.” as his fingertips dug into my body just to keep me still. I pouted, propping a little to stare down at him, panting for my next breath and shaking just a little more.

I felt his tongue form the shape of a T and I moaned, managing to fight the grip of his fingers to rock my hips against his mouth. By the time he got to E, I was squirming even more, begging because my orgasm was so close to shattering through me. I felt him smirk against my cunt and when his teeth grazed against my tender and throbbing clit, I moaned out loud, the sound echoing off the walls of his bedroom. By the time he’d finished spelling his name against my skin, I was begging, breathless and dripping. Trent’s tongue delved back into my pussy, my head fell back against the bed and I rocked my hips against it, my orgasm getting closer and closer.

“Fuck. Doll.” Trent groaned against my cunt as he ground himself against the mattress a little, “You ready for me?”

“Please.” I begged, breathless and gripping at his hair as my other hand raised, resting against my forehead, fingers tangling in my own hair, tugging lightly. “Now, Trent.. Need you now.”

“Okay, baby. You got me.” Trent answered in a lazy drawl, raising up to his knees, his hand lowering, circling his thick length and dragging it along my folds, making me suck in a sharp breath and shiver just a little. He settled against me, carefully, making me giggle as I pressed a soft kiss against his mouth. His hands settled on my hips and he slowly slipped it in, sending a shiver racing through me as he did.

I dragged my hand through his hair, pulling his mouth deeper, his tongue parting my lips as my legs wrapped around his waist and he groaned into the kiss, our soft smacks the only sound for a few seconds as he sank his cock even deeper inside, growling and snapping his hips against me slowly as soon as he was buried to the hilt. His hand left my hip, settling on the side of my face, his thumb trailing lazily over my skin as he stared down at me intently, catching his breath before his lips settled deep against mine all over again.

“Trent.” I breathed out, rocking against his slow and steady drives, stretched and filled, the pleasure almost blinding at this point. “C’mon baby. Faster.. Please?” I caught hold of his jaw, making him look at me, my tongue rolling over the outline of his lips. He sped up just a little, muttering in awe against my mouth when he pulled it against his all over again for another deep kiss, “Not gonna be able to stop doing this.” and I answered breathlessly, “I don’t want you to.”

His cock struck against my spot and I whimpered, clinging to him. “Feels so good.” he mumbled quietly against my mouth, conquering it with another deep and slow kiss as he started to fuck into me slower, almost pulling totally out only to drive back into my cunt deep over and over again. “Doll…” he groaned aloud as my nails dug into his shoulders and my legs clenched his waist tighter, my heels digging into his ass in an attempt to drive him even deeper inside.

His hips pressed down into mine harder, his thrusts nearly driving me into the mattress, the soft smack of our bodies meeting over and over filling the room. “Whoa.” he groaned as his hips stammered against me and he paused, pressing little kisses across the bridge of my nose and my cheeks, chuckling quietly, “Was starting to feel way too good.” he muttered lazily against my mouth when I reached out and pulled it against mine greedily, answering into the soft deep kiss, “I know.. Didn’t want you to stop, honestly.”

“Oh really now?” he asked, biting his lip as we pulled away from the kiss, staring at one another. He started to fuck into me again, hips flat against mine and pressing me down. I lowered my legs and he took a shaky breath, bottoming out inside of me. “You didn’t want me to stop, hm?”

“No. I didn’t. Ugh, fuck.. Trent. C’mon. Please baby.” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulder and back all over again as he gripped my hips, holding me still, pumping his cock in and out faster, harder. As deep as he could possibly go until I wanted to see stars and I could feel my body starting to tense and spasm a little with each thrust. “So tight. It’s drivin me crazy.” he growled against my skin as his teeth sank into a patch of skin just above my collarbone, his lips latching on as he continued to fuck into me.

“Trent, fuck. Oh god I’m-...” I trailed off as my head tilted back and I tried to catch my breath, my orgasm about to take over. I literally couldn’t stop it. Trent muttered against my throat, “C’mon, doll. Let go for me.”

I didn’t need the coaxing he gently gave. My orgasm racked me, leaving me clingy and limp, my hips desperately trying to meet his as I moaned his name over and over and actually nipped at a patch of skin above his collarbone just to keep from screaming bloody murder. It flooded me with such a blinding intensity I almost couldn’t catch my breath, my pussy clinging to his cock, making him slow down a little to let me pull myself together, soft kisses all over my face and neck as he did so. “Doll… that felt..” he started and I breathed out against his mouth, “Amazing, baby.” as he started to pump into me all over again, his fingertips digging lightly into my hips, pumping me up and down on his cock, quiet groans and growls. I could feel him tense and he leaned down and mumbled next to shell of my ear, “Don’t wanna stop, fuck.” as he pulled out, his hand fisting his cock, staring down at me from above, biting his lip as he bucked his hips against his hands and his cock throbbed, erupting, his warm seed splashing against my skin and settling. Just watching him had me squirming and moaning, my hands wandering slowly over my body to give him something to focus on as he came hard.

He leaned down, gripping my chin lightly and pulled my mouth against his as he slid off the bed and pulled me up, letting me wrap around his body. “C’mon. We’re gonna shower together and save water.”

“Mmm. Sounds nice.” I drawled lazily as I rested my face against the space between his neck and shoulders.

#trent beretta #trent beretta fanfiction #trent beretta oneshot #trent beretta smut #trent beretta fanfic #trent beretta imagine #//18+ only #//smut #// fluffy smut #// so this happened.

69 notes · View notes

astra-inclined · 3 years ago

Text

Light the Way Forward (with domestic bliss)

@anbu-legacy @nezumiko @saunterleftside @ninjaeyecandy

"A thousand other ways to damage Kakashi, even if the corrupting energy of the Naizou Tokasu didn’t seep through. Scars in his chakra channels. Death. Disability. He might not wake up. He might wake up ruined. " - - Kakashi always going Big and never just going Home huh???

"Ryouma touched his fingertips to Kakashi’s shoulder, and began to sieve." - - Literally my heart is SO FULL. Remember baby Ryouma chapters ago being like "me??? a HEALER??? these killing, rotting hands?!" and now baby is performing his first intense and high pressured medical procedure on his loved one :')

“That’s why it took so long. Don’t tell Kakashi.” - - don't be a dummy, OPEN and HONEST communication!!!

"Ryouma’s post-healing fatigue outstripped his enthusiasm for Chakra Principles in Bone and Tendon Remodeling after just an hour and a half of study." - - I finished school May 2020, but I'll probably go back for my MSN with a friend but like..how...the mere thought of studying makes me sleepy. SNOOZE.

" Domestic, kind of comforting. It only missed Kurenai offering her incisive opinion, pulling the larger picture into focus. "- - CUTE CUTE CUTE!!!!! Do you think about the angst of Fallen leaves ever while writing?! Cause I do. I'm so happy you guys revamped everything lol Loved the old stuff, but I'm SO happy to see everyone happy <3

"then presenting an IV-impaled inner elbow for Ryouma’s inspection. “They show you how to take these out yet?”" - - Kakashi, Please.

"“What about ordinary burn out?” he asked. Naito’s expression turned very dry. “No competent medic would ever advise that burning your chakra reserves to near zero is a safe or reasonable practice." - - Omg.....I love this question. I work in a hospital as a nurse and love when patients ask me things that. It's like, Sir, as a MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL what do you THINK my answer is going to be?! (or when they ask if they’re allowed to silence their own IV pumps...In what world am I going to say yes???)

"Oh. Well, if Ryouma was going to be sweet about it." - - my HEART

"Ryouma came to attention in a way that was both gratifying and endearing, as if he expected Kakashi to send him on a mission to the dangerous wilds. " - - He's too much. I'm gonna die of sweetness. They're ridiculous together. Precious. Soft.

Wow. What another great chapter. I can't believe we got TWO domestic scenes with our usually Sad and Hurting men. Love thisss. So excited to see more about Ryouma's freaky chakra, how Kakashi is gonna have to -gasp- actually consider his chakra pathways and NOT go absolutely ham as his last resort per usual, love to see Raidou & Genma being cute af. Genma telling Raidou No to training...Thank you, King. get some SLEEP. <3

#Anbu Legacy #Kakashi #Tousaki Ryouma #Shiranui Genma #Namiashi Raidou #Naruto #if anyone is seeing this for the first time and likes naruto and fic...pleaaaaaaaaaaaaase read this series it's so good

4 notes · View notes

langdxn · 5 years ago

Note

Ooo!! Do one where they’re in the outpost and ms. V hurts y/n because she wasn’t following the “rules” and outpost!michael is there to protect her

Wow I took this one a little too far... 1.7k words too far to be exact, sorry anon! (sorry I’ve lost the gif maker’s URL so please let me know if you know whose amazing work this is)

Showing pain was a sign of weakness to Ms Venable. Weaknesses shown in her domain at Outpost 3 were hers to exploit. To terrorise. To torture.

Silently sucking your teeth as the whip snapped against your spine, your eyes bulged as you tried in vain to appear resilient to her efforts.

“Pathetic,” Ms Venable seethed an inch from your face as Ms Mead cracked the whip again. “You can’t even hide your pain, let alone your guilt.”

“Guilt over what?” You spat, unsuccessfully masking a shivering flinch at the next searing impact, tugging at the manacles suspended from the ceiling.

“Cooperating with the Cooperative,” the redhead hissed, surveying your every response with a pedantic glare. “I saw the way you looked at Langdon this evening, quite the show you put on for us all.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Venable?” You contorted your face in abject confusion, helplessly expressing yourself using flailing hands against your rattling shackles. “I was listening to him explaining our fate, for fuck’s sake.”

“Tell that to your lovesick, puppy dog eyes batting at him the whole time. Anybody would think he was narrating a Hollywood romance, not instructing the Outpost on the survival of mankind as we know it.”

Inexplicably trying to reach out and slap her, your hand waved weakly in your cuffs and earned you a sharp whip. And another. Tears brimmed furiously in your eyes as realisation hit you — she had no tenable excuse for torturing you, it was simply her method of passing the time and whittling down her charges in the Outpost, one by one with no trial necessary.

“Look, Venable, the world is in nuclear winter a few feet above us and your priority is beating the living daylights out of me for looking at an attractive blonde? The first new man any of us have seen since we got sent down this fucking rabbit hole eighteen months ago?”

Venable’s lips parted softly, quirking an eyebrow and leaning in closer to your face, a radiating heat of anger hitting you in the face.

“So you admit it?”

“I’m not admitting shit, Venable, that would imply I’ve done something wrong.”

Hearing a gentle swoosh of the whip behind you as Ms Mead prepared the next hit, Venable raised a halting hand and leaned back on her cane, eyes narrowing as she chased a new avenue of questioning.

“What is it you see in him?”

“I don’t know, he just seems like a nice person. I feel like I know him.”

“So you’re in league with him?” Venable’s bitter tone returned to the surface. “This is quite the development. First Gallant yesterday, now this little cockroach too. Try her again, Ms Mead, let’s see what else comes tumbling out.”

The stout woman drew her hand back to lash the whip again, reaching behind her head before the deafening clacks of expensive heels against the chamber gratings broke the silence.

“I understand torture is the only interrogation method available to those lacking the evidence to support their outrageous claims.“

Langdon.

The familiar honeyed tone laced with spite boomed through the metallic chamber, stopping Ms Mead mid-swing as Venable rolled her eyes. Realising the Cooperative member was walking right in on you, chained to the spot, wearing nothing but unflattering white underwear, you clenched your thighs together in the vain hope your existence wouldn’t be noticed.

Langdon paced agonisingly slowly to Venable’s side, hands clasped studiously behind his back, stopping as his boots bumped her heels.

“What a shame you don’t have the physical strength to extract the information for yourself,” he snarled menacingly. “That is, if there were any information to extract.”

“May I remind you whose Outpost this is, Langdon,” Venable jeered, drawing a clack of her cane to assert her authority. “Just because the Cooperative didn’t delegate you to lead one, that certainly doesn’t authorise you to attempt to usurp mine.”

“Usurping? That’s all you think I’m here to do?” Langdon chuckled under his breath, a devious grin curling his lips. “Perhaps you’d do well to take off those rose-tinted glasses and see what’s going on around you.”

Langdon began circling around you with glacial, contemplative steps. Venable’s brows furrowed with every pace, pursing her lips with every click of his heels.

“As it would appear you’re struggling to understand, I’ll speak your language. With every crack of this whip, you slip further down the greasy ladder that permits you entrance to the Sanctuary.”

Venable huffed in surprise.

“You think this is about salvation?”

“Let’s be honest here, everything you do leads back to saving your own ass,” Langdon barked, his predatory motion coming to a halt in front of you. “So you either leave this poor girl alone or I leave you here to rot, see how long it takes the feral cannibals to tear through your mauve wardrobe.“

“I can’t believe you—“

“Did I not make myself abundantly clear, Ms Venable? Lay another finger on her and I will personally disembowel you myself, leader or no leader.”

Venable swallowed harshly, eyes darting to her feet before heading for the door, a dismissive hand waving Ms Mead obediently back to her quarters.

“You haven’t heard the last of this, Langdon,” Venable called back as she swung the chamber door open. “And neither has she.”

With the click of the door confirming her departure, Langdon snapped his neck to look at you. As his eyes met yours, his gaze bled from cocky authoritarian into terrified concern with a blink. The back of his hand ventured to your cheek, lightly pressing his baby soft skin against yours, his rings cooling the rising heat as you watched his demeanour change instantly.

“Did she hurt you?” He cooed softly, gentle breaths fanning your hair from your face. “Are you okay?”

“Sure, I’m... okay?” You replied tentatively, perplexed by his blatant worry as he ghosted his fingertips over the vicious welts peppering your shoulders and issued a sharp hiss through your teeth. “Nothing a bit of whiskey can’t solve.”

“She won’t get away with this, I promise you,” he muttered, anger boiling under the surface as he surveyed every injury, silently cataloguing the crimes of Venable’s authority blooming red and purple across your skin.

“Langdon, do—do I know you? I feel like I’ve seen you someplace before—“

His face dropped.

“You, you don’t recognise me? I—I thought you realised yesterday when I was talking to everyone, you were staring at me.”

“Yeah, that’s what Venable said,” you sighed, eyes darting to the floor. “I was just trying to figure out who you are, that’s all.”

“Well at least the identity spell worked,” Langdon muttered to himself.

“Hold up, did you just say identity spell?”

“Fuck, I knew this would be harder than it was with Ms Mead,” he wiped his face in his hands in exasperation. “At least with Ms Mead, I just had Kineros reprogram her.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Langdon?”

“Look, just hang in there and I’ll explain, the plan’s not ready yet.”

“Fucking hilarious, sir,” you snarked, jangling your chains above your head. “What do you mean, what plan? You’re scaring me.”

“Oh no, no, please don’t be scared,” he cooed, leaning in to cradle your face in both hands. “Everything’s going to be okay, I just need more time to sort this place out and we can go home.”

You shook your head frantically, slapping away his hands as he stepped back nervously.

“Home? You better start making sense, Langdon, you’re driving me insane.”

He noticed the fear in your eyes, the way you stared through him, expecting the crack of a whip at any moment. Everything he said, everything he did, drove you further and further into your shell.

“Listen,” Langdon placed demonstrative palms in the space between you. “I’ll sort out the spell, but I need you to promise me you can carry on as if nothing’s changed.”

“What fucking spell? Please—“

You were cut off by his lips crashing into yours, his hands pulling you into him by the waist. Somehow, you melted into him, his soft kiss set off a blinding light in your closed eyes, followed by a searing pain in your head as everything span around you. As his lips left you, your eyes opened to see Langdon in a totally different light.

“Michael?” You whimpered, your eyes bursting out of their sockets as you finally recognised the man before you. He beamed from ear to ear, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you in for a tight, protective embrace.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry,” Michael hummed into the nape of your neck. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“Well how about getting me out of these fucking chains?” You shook your arms in demonstration as a pained expression washed over Michael.

“I can’t baby, they could come back in at any minute. Like I said, you need to act as if nothing’s happened. Just keep your head down, don’t mess with Ms Venable’s rules and we’ll own this place by the end of the week.”

“Have you found any of the witches yet?”

“Not yet, I think they’re under identity spells too, that’s why I sent you here. They planted a mole, I had to plant my own. I promise you, my love, everything will come together.”

“Okay, Michael, I trust you.” You smiled warmly back at him, safe in the knowledge Michael knew what he was doing. He kissed you again, a haunting, lingering kiss that spoke all the words he’d wanted to say since he arrived and painstakingly pretended not to know you.

Suddenly, three pairs of heavy footfalls approached the chamber, startling Michael into action.

“That’ll be Venable with her backup. Baby, I have to go now but please, remember what we said. Keep your head down, forget we had this conversation and we’ll be back in the Sanctuary in no time.”

“Then good luck out there, baby. Look after yourself,” you sighed, arms falling against your restraints and accepting your punishment at the hands of Ms Venable was far from over. “I love you so much, Boy Wonder.”

As Michael reluctantly turned for the exit, he sighed.

“I love you, more than you will ever know.”

#Outpost!Michael #outpost!michael x reader #Michael Langdon fanfiction #Michael Langdon imagines #Michael Langdon #michael langdon x reader

255 notes · View notes

trillian-anders · 4 years ago

Text

suspect - iv

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: descriptive violence, graphic descriptions of crime scenes, angst, slow burn

word count: 3k

description: au detective!bucky barnes x investigative journalist!reader;

still wet behind his ears, detective barnes is given his very first homicide case, a woman no one seems to care about had been murdered. it’s only when investigative journalist reader brings the small details to his attention that he realizes there’s a bigger problem. a serial killer no one was paying attention to.

When the police questioned you after your Mother’s death you just couldn’t remember. You were their only witness. And you couldn’t remember.

You’d been in your pajamas, eating cereal and watching cartoons. It was the middle of the day when your Mom answered the door. A man followed her in the house. You could hear them in the hallway. And then loud noises. You remember hearing your Mom scream. And then nothing. It was quiet.

And you were found days later with your Mom’s rotting corpse in the next room.

You shake it from your head.

“It’s not uncommon for you to blackout parts of your memory that are harmful,” Bucky sighs, “Especially as a child.” You traced the words in your notebook. It made you feel useless. Like you could have put the guy away maybe. The right guy. Because you know it’s not Fury. You know it entirely.

“I’ve been in therapy for years.” You explain, “Trying to uncover the memory, trying to work through it… it’s just gone.” He nods across from you, the plates empty, and check placed down between you. The exhaustion finally hits. And you’re tired.

“I should be getting the autopsy reports back in tomorrow.” He scrubs his face, “And then I’m sure I’ll have to report to Steve and get the go ahead to come to the group meeting.” With Rumlow, which gave you pause.

“You need to make sure he knows that these are all friends and family of murder victims.” Blunt and clear, Bucky looks at you from over his fingertips. “Rumlow… he can’t come into this group meeting and be an asshole to everyone.” A nod from him.

“I’ll have to talk to Steve about his behavior tonight too.” Crossing his arms and sitting back, “It was just unacceptable.” A nod as you both drift into silence. “Did you drive here?” You shake your head,

“I don’t live far.” As you both slip from the booth to walk outside.

“Let me drive you home.” He offers, tapping his fob, the headlights of his car flashing in front of you.

“It’s honestly like, two blocks.” You point with your hand in your pocket. He shrugs, tapping the fob again locking the car.

“We can walk then.” He was insistent and you honestly couldn’t blame him. You just didn’t want to make him feel inconvenienced about it. You knew this neighborhood, it was on the cusp of being in those bad parts of town, your apartment straddling the line. You could tell he was tired. Just in the way he walked beside you.

“You really didn’t have to.” You say, reaching the steps of your apartment building. You key in the code at the door and buzz in. He follows you inside.

“I do have to.” His voice raspy with fatigue, “It’s not safe out here, why do you even live here?” The cracked linoleum, the yellow fluorescent lights. You shrug, honestly you felt like maybe a nicer place wouldn’t feel right. You’d lived in places like this your entire life. Kicking your foot against the linoleum you look at him in the harsh light. The bags under his eyes.

“Convenient I guess.” He shrugs.

“Text me when you’re in your apartment,” Gesturing toward the elevator. “Let me know when you’re safe.” It warmed your heart a little bit, the concern. He smiles at you as the elevator doors shut, and keys tossed onto the kitchen counter, shoes kicked aside you collapse into your bed.

Thank you. You draft, I’ll see you tomorrow. Send.

See you then.

Bucky sighs, stepping from the apartment building and looking up the side, the various lit windows before trekking back to his car. Today was rough, but he had the feeling that tomorrow would be even worse.

The next day the precinct was buzzing with activity. A group at the front talking to a beat cop, arms crossed and somber. He met the eyes of one. A young man, eyes red and weepy, looking just as tired as Bucky felt. Walking back into the bullpen the normal workload seeming even heavier, everyone seemed to have three things to do and three more on the backburner. Rumlow in the back room was setting up a pin board with victim one and two. And a woman with short brown hair, arms crossed, sitting back on the conference table, watching him do it.

As he approached further, he could see the FBI badge on her hip. This must be her. The agent they’ve sent because they had to.

“Barnes.” Rumlow nods at him as he enters the room. “This is Agent Hill.” The woman stood from the desk, holding her hand out for him to shake.

“From the FBI.” She looks serious, like she has to be to survive in a world mostly ruled by men. Her handshake is firm. Bucky feels sorry that she had to put up with Rumlow without him as a buffer.

“Nice to meet you.” She gestures to the board Rumlow was still working on.

“Would you say this is accurate?” The two bodies photographed right below the pictures of both girls. Always that high school graduation picture, Cheryl’s one with her kids probably done at the mall. Bucky’s hand clenched around his coffee cup a little harder. Sighing, thinking briefly about how your Mom was once up on one of these boards.

It gave him a strange feeling he couldn’t quite cope with, so he tears his eyes away.

“Yeah,” A sip from his coffee cup, “That’s about right.” A long sigh. She nods,

“Have you talked to any of the girls on the street?” It pained Bucky to tell her yes,

“But they didn’t really want to talk to us.” Rumlow said as he pinned another picture up.

“They didn’t want to talk to you.” Bucky accused. Rumlow shot him a glare. Kind of like, how are you going to embarrass me like this? Something he’d for sure bring up later.

“Do we have any leads?” Agent Hill asked, exasperated, like she just walked into a giant mess. Bucky reasoned, she did. But then he remembered you, the diner last night.

“Yes.” He ignores the look from Rumlow. “An old police cruiser, one of the girls said she saw Cheryl get into a stripped old model police cruiser.” Agent Hill nods,

“Okay, so we will see which ones have gone to auction.” A shrug, “Go from there.”

Steve’s door was closed when Bucky approached it, a knock to enter. The ‘come in’ from behind the thick oak. Steve smiles at him sheepishly as Bucky opens the door, brushing the bagel crumbs off his shirt. Bucky notices how tired Steve looks, but not a hair out of place, the bags under his eyes show the fatigue.

“You doin’ alright?” Bucky asks, shutting the door and sinking down in the chair across from his friend. Steve sighs, running his hand through his hair. A bad habit he tried to keep himself from. Bucky watched him as he silently scolded himself for it and shook more sleep from his eyes.

“Yeah,” Gruff and unlike him usually, “Had a bit of an argument with Peg last night. She made me sleep on the couch.” Bucky barked a laugh, met with Steve’s glare.

“What did you do?” Steve rolled his eyes, “C’mon pal, I know you did something, Peg is a saint.” Steve gives him a tight smile,

“What do you want Buck?” A sigh, sinking further into the chair, Bucky looks around Steve’s office.

“Remember back in 2015 when you bought your Dad’s old cruiser?” Steve’s brow pulled together in confusion,

“Yeah, why?”

“Apparently our guy was driving one of them when he picked up Cheryl Hansen a few nights ago.” Steve sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat, thinking for a moment.

“An old police cruiser…” Shaking his head, “You’ll have to look through the old auction files,” A pause, “There were quite a few cars sent to auction.” On his fingers he counted, “I was gifted my Dad’s… I know Pierce took his old beat car, but so did a bunch of other higher ups.” A shrug, “A couple of the guys out there bought one for novelty, but I think about twenty went out for public auction.”

Bucky nods, “Okay, okay.” A tug on his lip, “We’re gonna pull the old files and see if we can start going around…” He looked across at his friend, “Is there any way you could get Rumlow assigned somewhere else?”

Steve laughed at that, “Already?” Sitting back in his chair, “I thought you would have at least stuck it out for the rest of the week.” Bucky rolled his eyes,

“The guy is a menace; I would get a girl to talk and here he would come and make some bullshit comment or stand too close.” A huff, “He’s holding me back.”

“He’s got more experience than you, Buck.” A half smirk, “And Pierce would have my head if I took him off, so I’m gonna have to say no. Anything else you want to ask?”

Bucky thought about you, a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, “That reporter that was in here a couple days ago… no listen.” He holds his hand out as Steve sets his jaw. “I think she could really help.”

“Buck—”

“She runs this relief fund for families of the victims, and they meet up once a month,” Resting his hand on the desk, “One is happening today, just give me the okay to go out there and question some of the families.” Steve seemed to debate it for a moment before lacing his hands over his belly.

“Pierce said no reporters.” Firm.

“But it’s not to give her information, it’s to interview people familiar to the old case.” Steve debated it a moment more before shaking his head with a sigh.

“Fine, but no statements better show up in the paper tomorrow.” Bucky grinned at his friend, Steve rolled his eyes, “I’m serious Buck.”

“I know you are.” That grin of satisfaction not leaving his face. Steve laughed,

“Now get out of my office.”

…

Wanda seemed in brighter spirits today as she lay out the food. Pietro carrying in boxes with the foil dishes while you set up the chairs and tables. Softly music played in the background. Just something to fill the silence as Wanda unwrapped dishes of cookies and lit sterno under dishes served hot. She jokes with you and Pietro about some show she was watching last night. Something you couldn’t ever be bothered to watch yourself, but you humored her as she talked about the drama that had unfolded between two couples.

People start arriving staggered. The early ones help you finish setting up, the ones coming in later met with raucous greeting from old friends. A lot of them with kids of their own. A table set up with crafts to keep them busy while their parents mingle and chat. Spouses here to support. Friends and people struck by the cause.

While it was your favorite day of the month, it was also the most tiring. A non-stop stream of greetings and hugs, marveling at how some kids have grown, wondering aloud about activities for them for next month and seeing what they would like.

But the questions you received the most, the reason for your high anxiety about this whole day, was…

“Is he back?”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“What should we do?”

And you just didn’t have an answer. Not yet. Not today. Not so soon. Sophie didn’t show, but then again you didn’t expect her to. It was far too soon. And Christine’s family didn’t have much to do with her anyway.

You looked for him, Bucky. You found your head turning towards the door every time you heard someone come in or out. The disappointment clear in it being someone coming back in from a smoke break was alarming and you weren’t quite sure why you were feeling this way. A paper cup with your name written on in sharpie with lemonade in it held in hand you continued to make your rounds, unaware that he’d even arrived until he sought you out.

“Hey.” Breathy and it sent a pleasant chill down your spine. Rumlow standing in the doorway with a woman you didn’t recognize. Your eyes meet Bucky’s and you couldn’t help the smile.

“Hey.”

He was in plainclothes. Not the normal button down and tie he was usually wearing. But something soft. Something you could imagine sticking your nose into. Something you had to shake from your head almost immediately. Hands in his pockets he looks around.

“Good turn out.” You agree, trying to get over him in jeans and a t-shirt.

“We stay pretty consistent.” You smile, “Today has been a good day considering… So, what did the autopsy reports say?” You see Rumlow and the other woman break off into the crowd, no doubt to try to get any information. He sighs,

“Sexual assault…” Shaking his head, “But no DNA left… and the fingers are being taken while they’re still alive, both of them anyway.” A heavy sigh. “They found no ketamine in Christine’s system, but I’m thinking that maybe because it was his first kill he wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Yeah,” You take a sip of lemonade, “That’s probably it… what about the cars?”

“I’ve got the go ahead, we are having auction records pulled… we just need someone to talk now.” He looks around the room, “Someone has to know something.”

“You think maybe there’s another witness?” He shrugs,

“I mean it’s possible,” He licks his lips, “Do you think that girl you talked to would talk again?”

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, “She wasn’t really comfortable even talking to me.” You watch him nod, “Do you want something to drink?” You lift your cup, he gives you a soft smile,

“Whaddya got?”

Wanda was over by the snack table, organizing and reorganizing. Getting rid of trays as they empty. You wished she would interact more, socialize and talk to people without the buffer of the table in between but this is what made her comfortable.

“Wanda.” She smiles softly and looks at the man beside you. “This is Detective Barnes.” The cracks there, as her smile slowly shifts into a frown and then back.

“Nice to meet you,” Holding out his hand for her to shake, which she doesn’t take. He nervously wipes it on his jeans.

“You’re going to stop him.” She says, voice shaking, “Right?” You set your cup down and step onto the other side of the table, gently placing your arms on hers.

“Wanda,” Her eyes focused on him, “Come on honey,” You look at Bucky whose face has pulled into sorrow. “I think you need a break.” Your eyes scan the crowd for Pietro, finding him flirting unabashedly with the woman who had entered with Bucky and Rumlow, sighing heavily, you gently begin to lead Wanda from the room.

“I’ll do everything I can.” Bucky’s voice firm with resolve from behind you. You cast him a glance over your shoulder as you bring Wanda into the back room, his eyes meeting yours and giving you a firm nod.

Maybe things would be different this time after all.

…

Bucky felt a guilt gnaw in his chest and he really looked around this room for the first time.

When he’d first entered, he’d been so focused on finding you. A happiness blooming in his chest as he watched you laugh with someone. A smile on your face as a little girl seemed to be telling you some animated story, amusing enough to make you full belly laugh twice before he began to make his way over to you. The luck of it being the girl parting with her father in tow as he reached you.

The flush in your cheeks just about did him in.

These people were happy, sure. As he looked around the room, he could see the smiles and cheeriness of those who have found solace in one another over such a deep rooted trauma. But there was a sadness there too.

For a moment he was proud of what you’d accomplished with this. Bringing all of these people together over what must have been your own guilt about your Mother’s death. What good had come out of it.

He couldn’t imagine, thinking about it, if his own Ma had been murdered. Let alone the brutality in those women’s last moments. The horror of it. It dried his mouth. It made his stomach churn and gave him the sudden urge to step outside and dial.

She picked up on the second ring, like she always did.

“Hi Ma.” Soft into the phone, like he was a little boy and just needed her at this moment.

“Jaime, what’s wrong?” Because she would immediately know. She would always immediately have known. He sighs,

“This new case I’m workin’ on…” He starts, “Just a little rough, I just needed to hear your voice.” She hums from the end of the line.

“Are you okay?” He rests his back against the brick of the building, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth, ripping at the dead skin there.

“I think I will be,” Scrubbing his face with his hand, “It’s just… someone’s lost their mother.” A swallow, “Just wanted to call and tell you that I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart.” It warmed his chest but made him ache at the same time. You were how old when you lost your Mom?

You never got to do this. You could never call her when you were feeling upset. You could never just pop in to go see her and she would never make your favorite food just to cheer you up.

Something sat raw and acidic in Bucky’s gut, something he knew he wouldn’t be able to shake until this guy was behind bars.

“Come see me when you can, okay?” His Ma’s voice, sweet and comforting. He closes his eyes, resting his head against the brick and fights back the tears of grief he feels for you.

“Okay.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #detective!bucky #detective!bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

87 notes · View notes