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din-miller · 2 years ago

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ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: pirates come looking for Grogu but find you alone in the cabin instead

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of decapitation, no angst, yeah you read that right decapitation but no angst to be found in this bad boy, it's just comical trash, crack fic really, reader is a sarcastic asshole, married couple, slightly unhinged reader, Din even more so and don't get me started on Grogu, cabin fic, mentions of Moff Gideon, mentions of med-school drop out reader,

A/N: this started off as a serious fic full of sorrow, then somehow turned into a night time comedy special. I'm proud of myself.

You don't normally let Din and Grogu head to the marketplace without you, but you woke up with a sore throat this morning and it hasn't gone away. You tried to convince your husband to let you join them. Fresh air would do you good, you had helplessly reasoned.

"Fresh air does nothing for sore throats. Rest does though mesh'la." Din argued back.

"Oh I didn't realise you were the one who dropped out of med school."

Needless to say, you didn't win that argument.

So now you're stuck in a cabin that you didn't know could be so quiet. For there only being three of you, the house is constantly loud. To be fair Grogu is now speaking in full sentences.

You've been alone before without them, but this time there's something unsettling. Like a bad omen is lurking in the daylight.

You should've contacted Din the moment the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. But you didn't and now you're standing in the living room with two men as you stare down the barrel of a blaster.

"You're going to regret this," You sighed, dramatically, "Look, I'm currently in the middle of making dinner and I have a sore throat. Can we get this over with?"

The tall one – let's call him Lance – glanced over at the short one – Manny. Yeah, that suits him – and sent him a baffled look.

"Where's The Child?" Manny growled and despite knowing you'll win this, you always do, your stomach turned at knowing they're here for your son.

With a shrug you crossed your arms non threateningly, "It's just me here. I'll let you know if I see a child though."

Lance glanced around the room, "You have a lot of kids toys for not having a kid."

"What? A person can't have a hobby?" You raised your brow, acting mildly offended.

Manny stepped forward, hand tightening around his weapon, "Enough! I know you have The Child. Give him to us and we won't kill you. Deal?"

"A deal?" You scoffed, "Why the hell would I make a deal with some lousy pirate? You're not even holding your blaster properly."

He looked down at his weapon, brows drawn tightly together, "I'm not?"

You tisked and pointed to the gun, "Allow me?"

When he gave a small nod you stepped forward, "Here, one hand grips right here... Good, now loosen this hand."

As soon as the blaster is loose enough you grabbed it out of his hand and pressed it against the lower region of his body. He froze, eyes going comically wide.

Lance, being weaponless already, raised his hands in an act of surrender. Honestly when you first felt like you were being watched you thought it would be a little more exciting than this. There's always next Monday you guess.

"You two are actually doing me a favour, bearing you don't have any allergies," You waited for them to shake their heads, "Good. Follow me into the kitchen. See, I've been trying out a recipe for my husband and I's anniversary – it's this weekend, you're not invited. Anyways, I'm not sure I have the correct level of spice to it."

"I'm sure your husband will enjoy it."

"Thank you Lance," You smiled and held a fork full of spicy food to his mouth. You watched as he took in the flavour and deemed it plenty spiced enough, "I'll get you boys a plate full."

Your eyes darted back and forth as they ate, taking in every reaction they had to each bite. It's a silent meal, rather uncomfortable for them you imagine.

Manny set down his fork, "This is our last meal isn't it?"

You blew out a breath, "Sometimes you gotta learn the hard way that your actions have consequences."

Lance politely raised his hand, "Can I have a glass of water?"

"Unfortunately, Lance, you can't. You know why? Because you're trying to murder my family, that's why." You growled, then cocked your head towards the door leading outside, "Now do I have to tie you both to the porch or can I trust you to behave and sit like good boys?"

"We'll behave," Lance said, stepping over the cabin's entry doorway, "Right Manny?"

The short man huffed, "I ain't itching for a blaster fire to the back, Lance."

They both sat on the bench and leaned back against the wall. You took a seat opposite of them, perched on top of the railing you had installed after you moved in.

"Who do you work for?" You asked, blaster twirling in your hand, safety on.

Manny rolled his eyes, "We work for ourselves."

You hummed, "Why us? Why the kid?"

"Figured it would be an easy target now that the Mandalorian is dead."

For the first time since he interrupted your day, you're taken back at his words, "Dead, you say?"

"Yeah, in the fight with Moff Gideon." Lance explained, "We heard you adopted his son."

You have to give him credit for knowing at least that part. You did adopt Grogu. Married Din the same day too.

How many people out there think Din's dead? And who's the dumbass that thought Moff Gideon could kill Din?

Your eyes narrowed in on Lance when his jaw dropped and you could see the faint shine of sweat gathered at his temple, "Am I seeing things?"

"Oftentimes yes, but that's him," Manny shrunk in on himself, eyes forward in horror, "That's the Mandalorian."

You look back behind you, your eyes locking in on your husband. He looks furious, even underneath all his armour. His blaster is already in his hand and floating beside him is Grogu. Your son has his hand held up directly in front of him, eyes squinted – a warning.

This is the proudest you've ever been.

"Ner kar'ta," Din's hands are on you, moving different parts of your clothing around searching for a wound he won't find, "Are you okay?"

Lance nodded, "A little parched – oh, you're not talking to me, right that makes more sense."

You smiled down at the man. He's absolutely hopeless, but it gives him a fun personality. Too bad he has to die.

"I'm okay, I promise," You reassured him, "How was the marketplace?"

"Dull without you there to keep us company," Din said, Grogu nodding in agreement, "How was resting?"

You glanced down at the two men, "I had some unwanted visitors interrupting my relaxation."

Din looked them over, "Why are they unharmed?"

"The only weapon I had in reach was Manny's blaster," You held up the weapon while simultaneously introducing Manny to your husband, "Felt wrong to kill a man with his own gun."

Din pulled Manny up by the back of his shirt, the short man standing on his tippy toes to avoid strangulation.

Manny patted Din's beskar chest piece of armour, "Look Mr. Mandalorian, this is all a misunderstanding-,"

"Yeah," Lance stood up and his friend shook his head, silently telling him to stop, "We thought you were dead."

Din dropped Manny. The man crumbled to the ground, Din's foot pinning him down. You watched as your husband's attention turned to Lance.

"And that gave you permission to hunt down my riduur and child?" He growled, every bit the Mandalorian these pirates fear, "Tell me why I shouldn't put your head on a pike for all your pirate friends to see."

Lance turned to you for help. You looked past him to your husband and nodded, "It would give me much pleasure to see shabuirs like them displayed as an example to why no one touches my family."

"What my riduur wants, they shall receive," Din hauled both men up, his grip tight enough to leave nasty bruises on their skin, "This should only take two hours. Longer if the tall one is stupid enough to run his mouth."

"Two hours!" Manny exclaimed, "I can cut my own head off in less than a minute. I'll even save you some effort and behead Lance too!"

"You don't understand," Din grinned under his helmet, body humming with anticipation, "The effort is my favourite part," Din nodded his head in your direction, "Eat without me, mesh'la. I'll be back in time to tuck Grogu in."

"I'll have the shower ready for you when you get home," You promised, "Oh, and make sure to take your time, alright?"

Din activated his jetpack, throwing down a quick 'i love you' before taking off. You looked down at Grogu, "Your buir and I will never let anything or anyone hurt you. We love you, kid"

#i grew attached to Lance 😭#din djarin x reader #married couple | the mandalorian #the mandalorian #din djarin x gender neutral reader #sir grogu #grogu included fic #crack fic #din djarin fic #justice joy writes

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flameswallower · 7 months ago

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This haibun burns, but you will be destroyed in ways more terrible still

(after Helene & Asheville & gone houses I’ve slept in & Uzumaki)

You grew up here and there among the train tracks and the weeds. It’s normal to find a tiny ammonite along a path; stone twist from a watery mountain range. It’s normal to find a stone arrowhead, too, or a grave unkept, rotten cross and kudzu winding over. You came to here because the rent was good, at the time, and there was a job for you. Over the years, you watched the summer insects decrease in number, decrease, you thought, in vigor and fortitude. As your own heart is decreasing. The job you do is heavy on even the strongest muscle. It’s normal to wake up feeling drained, to watch a lone mosquito spiral in the lingering summer heat, then vanish in a peal of refracted light. You came to here as a young punk. You came to here as an old hermit. You always lived in the ramshackle house here, and your mother, and hers. You moved because your husband wanted to come here. You moved because your wife lived here already. You wish you could move. A big city, a place on the wild coast. Fuck the danger from rising tides. Someone yelled a slur at you down by the crosswalk near the dentist’s office and the blast of his drunk asshole voice was so thick and hot and loud you couldn’t even tell which one it was. And there were the ill omens you saw in the rippling stream, before it became anything more. You live here because you’re an artist. There’s a kind of clay in the land you don’t get elsewhere. It sings in the dark; it smells like the inside of a mosquito. You make plates and pots with it, spinning your wheel. Your days are

normal. Ordinary with cicadas and green light through layers of geometric leaf. You’re stuck here but it’s okay. Ignore the foreboding. Ignore the newspaper. Ignore everything you can’t control. Do your work and walk your path. It won’t be so bad until it is, everything wrong with the world at once, the outside lifting the roof off your house to come through the kitchen, the roads cracking and sinking. The past flooding in. Job’s whirlwind picking you up like a doll, shaking your limbs, daring you to ask why, answering the unspoken question with a sky full of wrack and memory. When it’s over, you’ll all have to pitch in. Build the new town on the ruins of what was. Has anyone learned?

II.

here and there it’s normal to find a tiny ammonite or a grave unkept. As your own heart is decreasing, it’s normal to wake up feeling drained, then vanish in a peal of refracted light.

You always lived. Fuck the danger from rising tides, the ill omens you saw in the rippling stream, before it became anything more.

because you’re an artist. There’s a kind of clay in the land you don’t get elsewhere. It sings in the dark; it smells like the inside of a mosquito. Your days are

normal. Ignore everything you can’t control. Do your work and walk your path. It won’t be so bad until it is, the roads cracking and sinking. The past flooding in. Build the new town on the ruins of what was. Has anyone learned?

III.

It’s normal as your own heart is decreasing to wake up feeling. Fuck. It sings in the dark; it smells. The past flooding in.

#i'm going to write a series of these very slowly #poetry #burning haibun with horror pop culture reference point series

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thesilentmedium · 2 years ago

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End Of The Line || Jonas & Lil

TIMING : Early March

LOCATION: A dusty motel

PARTIES: @thesilentmedium & @the-lil-exorcist

SUMMARY: Lil and Jonas find out some unfortunate news

CONTENT WARNINGS: Emotional Abuse, Parental & sibling death

It wasn’t news to anyone that Lil was on edge, ever since she and Jonas first met the Barghest who she reminded herself quickly was named Blue. It wasn’t the ghost dog's fault really, in fact she seemed quite attached to Jonas. It just felt like she was on the edge of some big catastrophe - which to be fair was exactly what a barghest meant. Something bad was going to happen. She knew something bad was going to happen.

So, trying to seem at ease she’d pulled into a hotel that they’d decided on at lunch, her hand tapping on the steering wheel to the song playing. Although they usually would stay in one place - sometimes even for weeks, Lil hadn’t wanted to stay in one place for very long. Maybe it was the idea that if they kept moving that whatever feeling that seemed to be on the horizon couldn’t catch them. If she was being honest - it might also explain why she kept moving them closer and closer to the east coast too. It was something more akin to an instinct then something she could rationally explain. Maybe it was because she was missing something. Thinking for a moment her thoughts snapped to the rest of their family.

Fuck. She had forgotten that -

Turning off the car Lil paused for a moment, trying to remember when their dad had called last. Has it been a week already? That couldn’t have been right. He usually bugged her every other day with jobs. A moment of panic filled her as she tried to remember the last time their mom had called her - being more worried about Blue and what that could mean she hadn’t been keeping track of her days like she normally did. Still she tried to hide it with a smile to her Jonas as she took off her seat belt trying to steady her shaking hands as she realized that a harbinger didn’t necessarily mean it was the two of them that were going to suffer.

“I can go key if you want to stretch your legs and walk Blue, ” Lil signed with a small nod to Jonas turning to face him pointing lightly to Blue, who she could almost forget about when she didn’t see her. She didn’t want to worry Jonas, and figured that she was actually wrong about the last time their dad called. She just needed to make it seem not as panic-inducing as she felt. “We can go get something to eat after. I also - I think I should call dad. So it might be a minute.”

—

Jonas had his hand against the speaker, feeling the vibrations from the song Lil had been playing as they pulled up to yet another motel. It was obvious Lil had been anxious ever since they met Blue, the dog wasn’t exactly a good omen and even he had been stressed since meeting her. The dog ended up following them for about a week before Jonas decided to make a pact with her. It was strange having a symbol of misfortune attached to you but Blue was so kind and protective of the two that he couldn’t leave her alone. It was his first and only pact. The dog was bunched up in the back, being the size of a polar bear leading to her barely fitting comfortably curled in on herself, head perking up when the car came to a stop.

They both looked to Lil as she started singing, Jonas’ focusing his gaze on her hands taking in what she was saying. He’d been doing this for years now so it was easy enough though the fact her hands were a little shaky gave away her nerves. He couldn’t blame her though, he was just as nervous, the last message they’d received from their dad didn’t even go to Lil like it normally did, he had received it and it had been kind telling Jonas that he was proud of him after all, which was very abnormal for a father who normally preferred to pretend Jonas didn’t exist.

He reached over and gently took Lil’s hand, his words coming out awkwardly and a little slurred, “It’s going to be okay Lil, we’ll figure it out.” He let go so he could sign the rest of what he wanted to say, “Go ahead and call dad, if he doesn’t pick up we can try one of our siblings. Someone will know what’s going on.” Someone had to, a Ballard didn’t just disappear for no reason.

After reassuring Lil, Jonas slipped out of the car, opening the back door for Blue to join him outside. Normally he didn’t venture far from the car or the motel at night, it was just more dangerous not being able to see thing when your hearing was already gone, but Blue was here now and would keep him safe so he went a little further out to the trees that surrounded the motel, giving Lil the space she needed and Blue the opportunity to stretch.

—

Lil had paused for a moment hearing Jonas’s voice realizing that her attempt to be calm and collected had failed, yet again. Usually she was pretty good at it - getting people to calm down during exorcisms with a smile and laugh- but that never seemed to translate to Jonas. So she nodded and signed a quick thank you, getting out of the car herself.

Lil watched for a moment watching Blue trailing behind Jonas. She was still getting used to her - especially how big she was and the fact Lil couldn’t hear her. It was - disconcerting in a way that ghosts always were for her. Still, she seemed protective over Jonas, and while they were harbingers they didn’t cause the harm themselves.

Quickly going to grab a key for a room for the night Lil was soon scrolling through her phone hitting their dad’s number. She’d never bothered to save him as a contact, annoyed by the tacit connection but he was nevertheless one of the highest in her call logs.

She expected to hear Jacob, maybe him being at least a little pleased she called him first in this stand up they were having. Instead she heard a dial tone. In a moment she felt a sense of doom she wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with. Although she tried to never call him first, anytime she had Jacob Ballard had answered her. “Hey - Dad, if you get this call me back.” Lil said unsure now that she’d gotten the dial tone trying to steady. She had assumed that he’d known that she’d been pissed at his cryptic message to Jonas and had left them alone - she didn’t think he wouldn’t answer.

Still, Lil tried not to panic, her thumb going down to their oldest sibling and hitting their number. She stilled again when she reached the dial tone for them too. Eyes wide she hit the next sibling, getting the same result as she tried to stop panicking. “Hey - this isn’t funny. Call me back.” Lil said her voice getting higher with stress as she started twirling her ring. “I’m calling mom next and she’s going to be mad at all of you.” She went to touch the contact for their mom - wondering lightly if June would answer and dreading if she didn’t.

Still her finger tapped the button, and Lil held her breath listening to the dial tone when she heard a click on the line, “Mama - thank God. Are you all okay -”

Jonas paused at the woods and Blue came up behind him, turning her head to stare at Lil as she dipped inside the motel. He understood from how the large beast watched her that whatever Lil found out on that phone call wouldn’t be good news. Jonas shuffled and buried his face into

the thick fur of Blue’s neck, earning a low whine and a big head to come press against him. She reached his chin without standing up on her hind legs making the nuzzling rather easy. They were meant to be stretching their legs but Jonas just held onto his new companion for a while longer before moving back towards the car.

Jonas stopped when he saw Lil on the phone. He was facing her back so couldn’t see what she was saying but Blue’s stare got more intense. He fished his own phone out of the car and pulled up door dash before moving in front of Lil. “Did you reach someone Lil?” He was doing his best to read her lips without being too rude about it. “Mom?” That was good news if they reached June, she was normally the center of the family and would know what’s going on if anything was at all.

A barghest could mean anything was going to happen, maybe the room they were about to enter was haunted or Lil was going to get bad food poisoning from whatever they ordered tonight. He was starting to feel a little hopeful about it if that was actually his mom on the other end. She could also explain their father’s odd behavior.

—

There was a swell of hope with Lil’s heart for a moment as she turned to Jonas putting her phone into the crook of her shoulder to free her hands. After all, June usually wanted to talk to him too, and right now she didn’t think she’d mind if Lil signed to Jonas. They could after all text later.

It only lasted a moment, before Lil heard the voice on the other hand - gruff and not like her mom. “Lilian? Is that you?” Lil froze almost automatically at the voice for a moment, before realizing who it was and that it probably wasn’t a good sign that he sounded unsure and almost relieved.

“Yeah, Uncle Charlie it’s me. Where’s my mom?” Lil said her voice was going up as she tried to rationalize the call. “Jonas and I haven’t heard anything from them - why do you have her phone? Why isn’t anyone calling us back?”

“You and Jonas - oh thank God,” Charlie said, “ I thought - we didn’t even try to call you two ‘cause we assumed - Kid, you need to come home to the both of you. No one’s been able to find any of them. Okay? Wherever you are, come back.”

Lil froze again, “Missing? What do you mean missing? Uncle Charlie do you mean my dad’s missing or -”

“All of them, Kid. We need you two to come back,” He said gently, or as gently as the exorcist ever got. It wasn’t that he was mean - Lil could quite recall a few times he’d sneak candies to her during training when her dad wasn’t looking - but it was clear that he didn’t know what to do now.

“I - got it. I’ll go get Jonas and we’ll come as soon as we can,” Lil said, her eyes focusing on her brother and not sure quite what she would tell him after she heard a gruff okay and the click of the phone off. She tried not to look as shaken as she felt her brain spinning a million miles a minute as she tried to calculate how far away from their hometown they were.

—

“Missing?” Jonas frowned as he tried to pick up just who was missing, not Uncle Charlie thankfully, but that didn’t bode well if Uncle Charlie had June’s phone. His mind was piecing the clues together, mom had gone on a mission if Charlie had her phone and since his dad also didn’t answer when they called it was a good bet he was with her.

That just left his two older siblings. If both parents were missing and they hadn’t bothered calling then they were either trying to hunt them down or they too were gone. What could take out an entire section of the Ballard family?

The Ballard’s weren’t T.V. exorcists, they actually knew what they were doing when hunting ghosts and had made marriages through generations to keep the bloodline populated with strong exorcists and mediums. Not many things were going to take one Ballard down let alone four.

Jonas put his phone back in his pocket and placed his hands on his hips as he looked down. They had to go back, that much was obvious, but rushing wouldn’t help them. Lil was tired from driving and shouldn’t be driving while her mind was racing.

They needed at least 8 hours of sleep. Trying to think now while having slept so little would help no one. “We need to rest Lil, we can leave at first light. We won’t be able to help anyone if we crash because we’re tired.”

—

Lil hated to admit how much of her father’s kid she was as she pushed her hair back into a ponytail, as her brain shifted on how quickly she could get back to the town. She was pretty sure that she’d be able to get there in less than a day if they left now. For a moment she didn’t process Jonas signing to her, instead trying to figure out where in that freaky town her family could have gone. She’d have to get a list together and strong arm Uncle Charlie into giving her more details.

Still after a moment her focus did shift to Jonas, and as she hoped he had been reading her lips “They are all missing,” Lil signed. “Everyone is missing. Uncle Charlie seemed lost. I think he thought we were with them. That’s why no one called me or texted you. They thought we were missing too. ” A twinge of guilt passed over Lil, after all whatever had happened, she hadn’t been there. If she was also honest there was a bit of fear there as well. She was a good exorcist - maybe could have even been great one day, and Jonas was an excellent medium but they were the youngest. Their siblings and parents were stronger, and knew more. Whatever had happened was bad enough that they couldn’t deal with it and for tonight at least, Lil would have to deal with that fear.

She tried not to feel small, but she shifted in her boots slightly as she looked back at the motel and the car. Looking back at Jonas she sighed slightly, wanting desperately to get back into the car and drive on and knowing that wasn’t the right call. Normally, she would have done it anyway. She would have barked in laughter and said that she wasn’t tired.

She would have at least mustered an argument about how they needed to get back as soon as possible and how she’d get some coffee. Problems usually invigorated her, even when they might not be something that she wanted to deal with she always found a way to channel something akin to passion to be motivated. Even when she was on the ground, she always got back up after all. At the moment though she felt only weariness, after being on edge for so long it was hard to not recognize that she was tired in the face of the other shoe dropping instead of motivated.

So, instead of arguing she nodded slightly and reached out to give Jonas the motel key before answering. “You’re right. I’ll think we should get something to eat and get some rest. Maybe some snacks for tomorrow so we can leave right away . If I’m right we’re about a day away.” Lil’s throat felt heavy, and uncharacteristically she felt serious considering something her dad would tell her. “ That and I’m too scared.” She signed not looking at Jonas for a moment. “If we went tonight I’m sure I’d call whatever ghosts are around to me and we’d be having a world of problems. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Everyone?” Jonas did his best to be an optimist but that news wasn’t particularly great and dealt a heavy blow to him trying to look on the brightside. It would just be them and Uncle Charlie left to solve the case and as much as he loved the older man he wasn’t exactly reassured by the fact he was the one on the case. Not that he would ever admit such things out loud. It was rude just to think that way. He blamed such thoughts on being upset over how his family seemed to just disappear off the face of the map.

Still his earlier statement wasn’t wrong and Lil seemed to agree. He paused with what she said next, giving her an understanding look before signing, “I’m scared too, but what was it that dad always said? A Ballard persists despite it?” Granted Jonas had not been privy to many of the lessons and quotes his father had for his other siblings. He learned from his mother at his own pace rather than the rigid schedule of Jacob Ballard. That was better for everyone, Jacob couldn’t seem to keep from yelling the moment his eyes laid on what he considered a failure of a son, which just made his last text message so strange and prompted the calls.

“We’ll figure it out, we’re the smartest Ballards after all.” Jonas did his best to lighten the mood as he walked back over to the car to grab the salt they’d need to ghost proof the room for the night. Blue watched as her boy moved before walking over to Lil and planting her head against the older twin trying to offer comfort. Jonas’ mangled words came from the car as he shifted inside, “We can order your comfort food and watch a bad movie while we think it over tonight.”

—

Lil nodded a lump forming in her throat that she desperately wished would go away. Lil often thought of worst case scenarios, and she couldn’t help but feel a little sideswiped by the news. With everything she could have imagined, she just couldn’t see all of them disappearing. Even with Blue following them, she was sure it was her that was going to be on the receiving end. She should have thought about it clearer, but still she tried to let the fear go.

Looking at Jonas, Lil nodded slightly at the words she’d heard from their dad more times then she could count. Everytime she fell on the ground she could hear the smartass quips of Jacob in the back of her mind. Part of her wanted to not remember them, to pretend that she learned the skill without her dad’s help. It was a silly thought though, an indignant one brought by how her training ended. Jacob Balard might have been an awful father to Jonas, and a drill sergeant to Lil, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t an excellent exorcist.

Lil couldn’t help but snort at Jonas' statement finally releasing some of the strain in her body, a small smile going across her face, more to show her brother that she had found it a little amusing. “You’re right. Between the two of us, we have pretty much all the brain cells. We’ll just have to figure it out. Together.”

Because unlike what Jacob always thought, Jonas did make Lil a better exorcist. He was much more adept at dealing with ghosts and finding peace in situations that called for it. Proof was shown as to how Blue leaned into her. Lil would have exorcized her if Jonas wasn’t there to show that she didn’t mean harm, and that wouldn’t have been right. Lil moved her hand to the top of the ghost dog’s head as if she was petting her, grateful that she hadn’t. Now no matter what happened to her, Blue would be there for Jonas, and apparently they needed all the help they could get. “Thank you, Blue,” Lil said softly to the barghest.

Hearing Jonas, Lil leaned down rocking forward in her boots so Jonas could see her face and hands as she signed, “ Let's get something we both like, not just me. We’re both going through it. Maybe some Pizza? Sounds good? I won’t even make you watch the Minion movie again. ”

—

Jonas was a little startled by his sister’s sudden appearance, the news must have shook him a bit more than he realized, but he was quick to relax nodding at her suggestion letting out a little noise of triumph as he finally tugged a pouch of salt out of his tightly packed bag. “I think the minions would break us both.” He signed as best he could with the salt taking up one hand before tucking the pouch into his pocket, leaning over the seat to grab hold of his laptop.

“We can watch something mom likes, maybe Fox and the Hound?” Jonas had a habit of keeping everyone’s favorite movies on his laptop for moments like this, though he still refused to download the minions, he knew Lil didn’t actually enjoy the movie and was just using it to annoy him. But keeping the other movies she enjoyed counted as a way of looking out for her he supposed.

Jonas felt like that was most of his job now, looking out for his twin, it made him feel useful, always had. He’d be lying if he said Jacob’s words never got to him, they still liked to sit in the back of his mind coming out when things got too quiet. His only defense against them were the affirmations he recited to himself in the mirror every morning. Something to try and boost a self esteem that was holding on by a few threads that had been carefully stitched in place by June Ballard over the many years of raising her son. June and Lil always seemed determined to prove Jacob wrong about him, he appreciated it.

Jonas shoved his laptop under one arm to make talking easier, “Salt now or after pizza delivery?” Jonas knew that doing it sooner would be better if Lil’s defenses were going to crumble, the noise was going to pick up and he was too sensitive to it not to be affected but he also knew delivery people often got weirded out by a salt line waiting behind the door.

—

Lil frowned slightly realizing that she had startled Jonas signing sorry quickly as she nodded. She couldn’t help the bark of a laugh that came out when Jonas noted how the minions were not the move. Pulling on the door behind the driver's seat she pulled up her go-bag carefully still looking at Jonas as he was talking.

“Sure. I haven’t seen that in a bit. Might be a little sad though..” Lil wasn’t certain it would give her any sort of comfort, but she knew it would mean something to Jonas to watch the movie. While Jonas seemed to take their mother’s lessons, Lil was more like Jacob then she ever would care to admit. She tried to hold onto sentimentality - connections between people- but it was hard for her to find comfort in it.

Still, she wanted to find some sort of comfort in it. She wanted to be softer than she was, and more kind. Sometimes she looked in the mirror and saw a harder face in there than she wanted. She had to remind herself to smile and to make her hands relax. Lil wanted to remember that outside of exorcism she was still a human, for better or worse sometimes she would like to feel the bittersweet memories.

Locking the car Lil laughed and replied, her hands now freed from the keys being shifted into her pocket. Part of her was glad that Jonas couldn’t hear how strained her laugh sounded at the moment - as awful as that thought felt. “It’s not such a nice motel that they’ll notice or care that there’s a salt mark. Might as well do it now. What kind do you want?”

—

“It’s okay to feel a little sad. I just think the movie would… would calm us down.” Fox and the Hound was a tamer movie to pick among the ones on his laptop. The plot wasn’t very heavy and there weren’t really any sad parts in it. Unlike the movies he liked to watch which more often than not had sad endings. Jonas was just a sucker for movies that could make him cry. He didn’t think that was right for tonight though. Nor did he think anything action packed would be wise.

No, something gentle was best and they both knew the movie well enough that if they wanted to talk they wouldn’t miss anything while it was playing in the background. Perhaps he was over thinking it but that was what he did best. He thought things through as thoroughly as possible. It was why his seances often took so long, though it often led to him getting distracted as well. His mind was easy to get wrapped around one thought forgetting what else was needing his attention.

Jonas could remember a few cases where he ended up staying awake the whole night putting pieces together because his brain wouldn’t shut off or the ghosts were being particularly loud, preventing sleep. It was why he was a little relieved that Lil said to place the salt now. It would at least keep any unwanted guests from their door. “Hm Let’s get half cheese half what you want.”

—

“It can’t hurt to try,” Lil replied with a soft nod accompanying the hand movement. She couldn’t quite remember all the details of the movie - which wasn’t surprising. Lil often thought most of her brain was made up of old languages that no one spoke and exorcism rituals that she probably wouldn’t need. Still, she remembered enough to know it would be a good quiet movie for a loud day. It would be calming, and while it wouldn’t bother Jonas either way, Lil thought a quieter movie would let her hear anything outside the room.

Lil Tapped her fingers on her arm for a moment as they walked to the room looking at the area carefully, before responding, “ Half cheese and Half Pepperoni it is then. I’ll figure out the number in a second. Do you want to check and see if you hear anything in there before I start salting?” Lil wanted to at least make sure they weren’t trapping a ghost in the hotel room with them. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but she wasn’t feeling like she wanted to work and she doubted Jonas did either. It would be much more simple to ask them to leave the area.

—

Jonas nodded at the request and offered Lil a little smile, glad she agreed it couldn’t hurt to try the movie. He took the key from Lil and moved past her, making his way into the room. He gently placed his laptop on the bed before closing his eyes and focusing on the noise. The motel was luckily outside of town, making it as cheap as it was but it also meant there weren't as many voices as there would have been had they picked a palace more towards the center. He didn’t know if Lil picked based on the price or because she knew he got headaches when he was stuck in town all night, but he was grateful nonetheless. He took a moment to make sure there really wasn’t any ghost hiding in the room before holding the door open for Lil, “It’s all quiet in here, the noise is mostly in the woods.”

Blue moved into the room, getting on top of Jonas’ bed as soon as she figured out which one was his. The bed dipped under her weight as she flopped down, tail going and waiting for someone to join her. Jonas had never met a dog so in love with snuggles. “I don’t think there is enough room for all three of us on one bed.” He signed and the dog whined tail stopping as she huffed and stared at her partner.

—

Lil waited patiently for Jonas to finish listening for whatever ghosts could be in the hotel. While she wasn’t a beacon of patience in most cases, Lil always was a careful exorcist. While the ghost wouldn’t bother her most likely - after all she’d have to see it for it to even annoy her slightly- she knew Jonas could hear them loudly demanding him to do things. So she was as careful as she could be in making sure he could get to sleep. She made sure Blue was in the room, looking towards the ghostly dog to make sure she didn’t accidentally keep her on the outside of the room. Nodding after confirming everything she replied “Good. I’ll start sealing the room then.”

Taking one of the bags of salt she hid on her person, Lil carefully started to make a line at the front door in a continuous line that almost looked like she had drawn it in chalk. Looking back she caught Jonas talking to Blue and chuckled, moving to the windows. “Let her on the bed with you, I’m sure we can fit for the movie and besides she’s gonna end up there anyway. Look at her, she’s gotta be whining.”

Careful to not get the bag near Blue, Lil moved to the window still making another precise line and looking towards the woods. She wondered if she was seeing flickering lights of spirits - or if she was just that tired. In any case it wasn’t on their docket to deal with, and she’d rather not deal with it now. Instead she pulled her phone out and looked for a pizza place near them.

—

Jonas shook his head at Lil before turning to Blue, “Sit at the top.” The dog’s tail wagged again as she happily obliged, the chain on her foot rattling as she scooted to the top of the bed and made herself small enough to fit across it, leaving enough room for the twins to sit at the bottom of the bed. Jonas nestled in, leaning against the dog as he opened his laptop. This was normal for the two at this point, Jonas often found himself laying on top of the dog at night these days. The barghest never seemed to mind, often encouraging it as she tangled herself up with Jonas. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get used to not having her on his bed at this point. She was a welcomed comfort especially now.

While the laptop took its time booting up he turned his eyes to his twin, watching as Lil lined the window. Jonas wondered if she was still tense, if she was it was to be expected. They had a huge task waiting for them now in a town they ran away from, for good reason. He had never regretted his decision to join Lil, he didn’t want his sister to be a demonologist as much as she didn’t want to. It was more dangerous than normal exorcism and he could tell the thought of it scared her, and if they had stayed their father would have forced it on her. He also would have had to deal with more years of verbal abuse from his father, though the total lack of communication he had been receiving now hadn’t felt much better,

His father was a constant point of contention for Jonas. He was sure he hated the man but he didn’t want to, he wanted to love him as much as his mother however it was clear that his father did not share the same sentiments. He was never enough for the older man even in the fields he excelled at Jacob Ballard would always find some sort of flaw to point out. He remembered the night he showed his father the painting of him, Jacob had stared at it then said something about the colors being off before leaving and for the first time Jonas acted out in anger. He had taken his paintbrush and dragged a red line across the man’s face. Jonas was lucky Lil indulged his urge to paint on the road, it kept his love for it alive despite everything. He supposed if Jacob had said anything true in his life it was that, ‘A Ballard persist despite it all.

#the-lil-exorcists #Other Side Of The Coin || Lil #emotional abuse tw #parental death tw #sibling death tw

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tippytopdays · 4 years ago

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Tenacity

This ended up being a lot longer than intended but it's done enough for me to be satisfied with it.

Consider it a sequel to Weak

Combat was never something to be weak in. Be it blunt force weapons or ballistics, everyone knew something. Whole groups were skilled in things that could make a normal man’s head spin.

And then there was you. And you knew nothing.

You’d been born into this world with only your hands and basic know how for survival. There was no chance if you ran straight into combat with the nothing you had. Even if you did the only object even close to a weapon was the shovel you kept with you.

The handle had snapped like a twig, leaving you with the nothing you had come into this with.

There was no way to tell when they’d come. No warnings, no signs; only an oppressive presence that forced every Bandit into hiding and slaughtered every Zed.

The Agency was efficient after all. And you were no different.

Why they were here didn’t matter, only that they were. Like a plague set upon an unsuspecting town doomed for destruction. The hideaway you’d made out of the abandoned factory had fallen within hours of their appearance; an effort for supplies or scavenging you’d assumed. And once they’d found your nest of stolen goods and ratty furniture you’d bolted, nothing to your name except the shovel you’d snagged on the way out.

Clearly, that hadn’t mattered in the slightest.

The gunfire still hadn’t stopped. They were still coming.

You’d hidden in the only place you’d hoped they wouldn’t dare invade, their own abandoned facility. It was far more run down than the factory; machinery that once calculated to the extremes shattered to bits on the floors, testing chambers long silenced, and labs in ruins so decrepit nothing could even begin to repair them.

And the bodies half disintegrated with rot strewn about gave you little solace, as their stench permeated the entire facility.

A door activated from down the hallway, sliding open with a hiss.

They would find you, hidden behind a cluster of desks in some lab far away from the entry. It had been Hell to get back here and you had no doubt it would be equally Hellish to get out. The only open doors had been either blasted or left open by whoever had stormed this place before you.

One of them being at the end of the hallway, now left occupied by whoever had just come in.

Heavy footsteps tromped the corridor. You held your breath, mouth covered with your hands.

Another door was opened, somewhere opposite to yours. And still they came; one after another each room was searched, like a countdown to the inevitable.

A dark shadow loomed from the hallway, stretching through the long broken in door and over the desk you hid behind. Plastered against the wall as an omen of death.

There was no way out now.

Whoever it was stepped into the room. It was strange, you’d briefly noticed over the pounding of your heart, there was no swarm of steps behind the first. He was alone.

Why? Where were the others?

Footsteps thundered in the mostly empty lab. Containers that possibly once held important testing fluids and had long been smashed onto the ground crunched underfoot as the Agent wandered from one side to the other. Clattering came from one end of the room, opposite of your hiding space, furniture being disturbed in his curiosity. Briefly you’d peeked around the very edge of the desk; you could barely catch a glimpse of the him, let alone decipher what he was doing, but the barrel of what was definitely a very large weapon strapped across his back deterred you from any further investigation.

It was so strange, this was far too deeply wedged into the building for it to be mere coincidence. Was there something they’d left here? Something in this old, musty lab that you’d just so happened to take refuge in? A weapon? A lost experiment?

Loud clunking echoed in the mostly empty room as something large was righted. Something shifted, something moved. It was always something, none of it you could decipher. Only that it was there.

And it was getting closer.

It was only now, in this lieu of clattering and banging just out of your peripherals that you noticed this was the only sound you could hear. No shouting, no explosions. Only the footsteps traversing this room, and the commotion he was making.

Why, of all times, had the gunfire stopped the moment this Agent had entered the room?

There was no time for ruminating. At best you had mere seconds before you were discovered, an uncomfortably loud shattering of glass from just a handful of feet away nearly jumping you out prematurely.

But where would you go? Where would you hide now when the only safety had already been compromised?

A shuffle, a twitch of a limb that you weren’t paying enough attention to—exactly how didn’t even cross your mind as the desk shifted just so, dislodging a precariously set lamp. It tumbled to the hard floor, shattering to pieces.

All noise stopped. Your breathing followed.

If you weren’t screwed by coming here, you were now.

Whatever was in his hands clattered to the floor, forgotten entirely as stomping footsteps approached at a rapid pace. You didn’t have time to scramble away, to hide again before he was upon you, the desk squealing as he yanked it from your back.

Cold, angry red glared down from very familiar goggles, and fear turned to horror.

Hank. He had come back.

How was he even alive in the first place? Hadn’t he died in your arms?

The mere reality of his presence before you was as horrifying as it was clarifying. Hank still being alive was a very good implication of why the noises from the rest of the building had come to a halt. May have even been the cause for them even, since you didn’t recall any resistance forces in this ghost town.

Funny how adrenaline clouds memories when one’s wrapped tightly in terror.

You’d scrambled away, far enough that the piping on the wall behind the desk dug into your side. He watched, still and silent as death while the flickering glare of the hallway light obscured his eyes behind the lenses of his goggles.

Why had he come back? For you? To finish what he’d started? To burst your skull like he had intended upon your first meeting?

The silence was deafening, not even the whisper of cloth as he stood from hunching over your hiding place. Still staring at you he stepped around the overturned furniture, uncaring of the crunch of the lamp beneath his boot. A bright flash across the barrel of the heavy machine gun strapped around his back was enough to have you flinching away, arms raised.

Years of running, hiding in the dark, over in just seconds. You could flee the Agency and scurry out of sight of the Bandits all you needed, but here it was hopeless.

When he crouched down to your height you covered your eyes, cowering.

Nothing escaped Hank. Not even you.

All cognitive thought stopped as something very large plopped onto your head.

Your eyes snapped open behind your hands. The weight shifted, fingers of a hand—a very large hand—entangling into your hair.

Was he going to crush you with his bare hands? To throw you like you weighed nothing and toss you to your death?

The grip shifted, pushing your head back. Your hands fell away from your face and into your lap, shaking as he manhandled you.

He was just staring at you, an arm reached out to hold you by the head. The light from the hall was muted behind his utterly massive frame, barely any reaching around the width of his shoulders just to kiss the edges of the goggles. A foul stench of blood wafted into your face as he breathed, a drop splattering against your leg in his leaning over you.

He was monstrous. He was dangerous. Every nerve in your body was firing double and you knew if you were to run, he would catch you.

He was stroking your face.

In your haze of panic the hold on your hair faded, his touch trailing down. It wasn’t gentle, the harsh scrape of his nails down your temple causing a twitch to jerk in your neck as his fingers traced baselessly across your cheek. It was senseless patterns, no real thought behind it as it flickered to and fro over your skin.

As he brushed across the bridge of your nose, you followed it across the mask on his own face.

It was the same motions you had given him in his final moments.

You paused abruptly. The fear, the terror, all of the adrenaline in your body seemed to just flush away at the realization and you just stared, agape.

He remembered. Somehow that was more surprising to you than the fact he’d miraculously risen from the dead, and even more baffling than his touch tracing your face.

Had he come back for you because of what you’d done for him?

Just as suddenly as he’d started he stopped. The hand pulled away from your face, brushing over your neck to grab you by the collar.

You noted briefly that, while it was harsh, there was no energy to throw behind it. Not even malice in his movements as you were yanked forward into his arms and hauled over his shoulder.

And as he stomped back out of the room, carting you down the hall and into the moderately fresher air outdoors, you noted that he had taken precaution to not throw you over the shoulder that the gun’s barrel was propped against.

Your eyes flickered to the trigger.

There was no magazine. It was empty.

_____________________________________________________________

The door to the building opened with a hiss. He’d barely given enough of a glance towards the cameras to know who it was, “Alright Hank, what did you think was so damn important that you got me up at midnight-“ Mid fiddling with his data pad the man’s ranting came to an abrupt halt, red lenses focusing onto the body tossed unceremoniously over the assassin’s shoulder. Slowly, he raised a hand to pinch the apex of the mask on his face.

“Wimbleton did you seriously just bring in a stray?”

“Shut the Hell up Doc.”

#madness combat #madness combat x reader #hank j. wimbleton #hank j. wimbleton x reader #2BDamned #mentioned at least #fun #my writing

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 4 years ago

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For The Lover That I Lost (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! Welcome to part 9, inspired by Sam Smith’s “For the Lover That I Lost”. This now takes place post-civil war.

Summary: Y/n and Wanda are finally able to talk. Will the talk end in love or tragedy?

“All of the memories feel like magic, all of the fighting seemed so sweet. All that we were, my love, was tragic and you're the last thing that I need.”

“Do you think we could have that talk now?”

For a moment you just stared at the clouds floating past the small window you were seated by and let the question hang in the air. She had given you space for a few hours, but you knew this moment was bound to come.

The problem was that your healing was precarious, you knew that, and you didn��t know if it could withstand a conversation that was sure to open the wounds you had spent months patching up.

“Y/n?” Wanda called, cautiously placed a hand on your shoulder.

With a deep breath you turned your body to face her. “I thought about it, and I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Wanda.” You answered honestly.

Her brow furrowed slightly, “I understand your hesitation, but-“

“Look, Wanda, allow me to save you the trouble.” You began steadily, “You’re sorry for how everything happened. I accept your apology. You don’t want to lose me from your life. Give me some time and then we’ll work on rebuilding the friendship. Did I get everything?”

She stared at you, her eyes troubled. “Well, not exactly, I was trying to-“

Once again, you interrupted her. “And I won’t stand between you and Vision.” You added with a snap, as if you had just remembered something important.

“Will you stop interrupting me?” Wanda exclaimed, shocking you into silence. “Sorry, I just-… I forgot how stubborn you can be.” She rubbed her arm in embarrassment.

You stared at her silently, granting her wish of no interruptions. Waiting for her to get to her point, that you still weren’t sure you wanted to hear.

As you observed her, you noticed the way she nervously spun the ring she was wearing on her finger while she seemed to ponder where to begin. “Have you always done that?” you gestured to her hands, unable to stop yourself from asking.

Her eyebrows raised at your question, obviously not expecting it. “I…” she thought about it for a moment, then ducked her head slightly. “I guess it was something that I picked up from you. For so long, your nerves were intertwined with my own that it just became a habit from watching you, I guess.” She mumbled.

You bit your lip and nodded but said nothing, taking note of how her eyes closely observed the action. You gestured for her to go on.

Wanda took a deep, steadying breath, making sure she maintained eye contact with you. “First, I am no longer with Vision. I haven’t been for months.” Your eyebrows raised curiously. “You were right though, part of what I wanted to talk about was how sorry I am. Y/n, I am, so, so, sorry. You deserved so much more than what I gave you. I don’t expect you to forgive me because I certainly don’t forgive myself.” The sincerity in her voice took you by surprise.

The glassy look in her eyes and prominence of her accent were tell-tale signs of how upset she was. It was information you wished you didn’t know anymore. You dropped your gaze to your lap, it was easier this way.

“There is no excuse-“ she continued until a quiet knock on the wall made her stop. You both looked over to see a sheepish looking Steve Rogers standing a few feet away.

“Sorry to interrupt. Again.” He coughed awkwardly. “I just wanted to let you know we’ve landed at our temporary hide-out. It’s that house up in the distance.” He gestured vaguely as the door to the quinjet opened to reveal an open field with an unsuspecting two-story house located in the center.

Under normal circumstances you would have thought it was a beautiful sight. The knowledge that you were all there on the run, tarnished that though. You let out a quiet breath. “It’s beautiful. Where exactly are we?”

“Spain. A very rural area at that.” He replied easily.

Despite the view, Wanda couldn’t take her eyes off you. She needed to talk to you uninterrupted and it seemed as though the universe was actively trying to prevent that from happening. All she could do was hope that this wasn’t an omen. That she still had a chance.

“How long will we be here?” Wanda questioned, finally tearing her eyes away from you.

At the question, Steve shifted in discomfort. “A few days... if that. When Natasha arrives, it’ll be best if we split into small groups at most. We’re wanted fugitives now.”

“Natasha?” you asked with a tilt of your head, distinctly remembering her on Tony’s side.

Steve nodded. “She helped me and Bucky get out. She’s wanted now too.”

Both you and Wanda shared a look of surprise, Wanda speaking up before you could say anything. “Thank you for the update, Steve. We’ll meet the rest of you inside.”

With a knowing nod, Steve took the hint and turned to catch up with Sam who had already began walking ahead. “Guess we better head out.” you mumbled.

“Can we take a walk before we go in? I’d really like to finish our conversation.” Wanda requested hesitantly, her eyes pleading.

With another steadying breath, you nodded. She seemed determined and obviously wasn’t going to let this go. “Okay, Wanda.” You stood up and walked with her out of the quinjet, veering to a small path that was on the side of the house rather than going inside.

After walking a decent amount, Wanda stopped and took your hand, effectively stopping you as well. You looked at her expectantly. She decided she couldn’t handle another interruption and decided to just be bold. “You’re the love of my life.”

Her words were so unexpected that you just stared at her for a moment, opening and closing your mouth as you tried to process. “I’m sorry, what?” you eventually choked out.

“You are the love of my life.” She repeated with three light squeezes to your hand. “Pushing you away – not fighting for you – was the biggest mistake of my life. A mistake I never plan on making again. I was confused and thought that my powers were tied to my heart. I was wrong. The only person that has ever held my heart and will ever hold my heart is you. I want to grow old with you. I want you for the rest of my life.” Her words were passionate and desperate as she tried to express the true contents of her heart, hoping you’d believe her.

Disbelief was the only thing you could feel as you watched her shimmering eyes remain on yours. Shortly following the break-up you had dreamed of a moment like this. Not anymore though. You couldn’t. You had spent months learning to live without her. The risk of allowing her back into your heart came at much too high a cost. You wouldn’t recover a second time. “I-I learned to live without you, Wanda. I can’t risk it with you again. I’ve played before and lost.” You answered, finally pulling your hand out of her grasp.

“Do you still love me?” she asked in a pleading tone, ignoring your words. She took your hands back in hers, you noticed that they were shaking ever so slightly. “Tell me you still love me. Please.”

You swallowed thickly and met her eyes, “I don’t love you anymore.” You said weakly, so weakly that you didn’t even believe it yourself.

Wanda shook her head, clearly on the verge of tears. “I don’t believe you. I know you still love me. A love like ours doesn’t just go away. I love you, Y/n. Let me show you.” Without a moment’s hesitation, she took your face in her hands and connected your lips passionately.

Wanda sighed contently at the contact she had been missing, the way you both fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. The rush of electricity was a feeling she longed for. Getting swept up in the moment, you returned her kiss temporarily before the shock wore off and the hurt settled once again.

Pushing at her shoulders you quickly stepped back. “You can’t just kiss me and expect everything to go away, Wanda.” You shouted at her. “I think I should go.” You mumbled turning to leave.

Watching you walk away again was a nightmare vision to Wanda and she would be damned if she gave up so easily again. She ran and stopped so she was directly in your path, preventing you from going any further. “Y/n, please, I can’t imagine my life without you” The tears she had been holding back bubbled over the surface and fell down her cheeks. You fought the urge to brush them away.

“You know, I used to think of you as the person that I was going to spend the rest of my life with too. As somebody who would never hurt me. Ever.” Wanda listened to you quietly as tears flowed more steadily down her cheeks. “Now all I see when I look at you is that last moment on the roof. Of you with him. It doesn’t matter what you say, or what you do… it’s too late.”

A sob escaped Wanda’s lips as she briefly covered her face with her hands. “Y/n, please… This can’t be it.”

“It is though.” Blinking back tears, you moved to step around her.

“Y-you’re a coward!” She cried after you, at your retreating figure. The pain clear in her voice.

Anger quickly replaced the anguish at her words. You spun around to face her, her jaw clenched. You couldn’t believe her. “I’m the coward? No, Wanda, you are!” you shouted back.

The woman in question ran a hand through her hair, tears falling even faster. She seemed at a loss. “You’re the one that chose to run instead of staying and fighting!”

Her words made something in you crack, she had no right to be angry. To pin the demise of what you both once were on you. “How is that fair?” you snapped at her. “I was supposed to stay and fight for someone who had very clearly decided they didn’t want me anymore? You don’t get to pardon yourself. The ashes of our relationship are on you and you alone.” You gritted out bitterly.

For a moment she just stared at you, her chest heaving as she clutched at her chest. Almost as though your words physically impacted her. “I…I’m sorry.” she took a deep breath and recollected herself. She reached out to you, you stepped back. Her face contorted in pain at the knowledge that you didn’t want her anymore.

“I know I don’t deserve it and you have no reason give it to me, but please, give us a second chance. Let me prove to you I mean what I say, to prove that you… you are everything. There will never be anyone else. I love you.” her eyes met yours pleadingly, slowly breaking before your very eyes.

You took your own deep breath and braced yourself for the words you were about to say. “Wanda, we don’t stand a chance. It’s sad, but it’s true. We’re bound to end in tragedy.” You said quietly, staring off in the distance because you weren’t sure you could handle watching her reaction. “It’s time to move on.”

Like a magnet though, your eyes found hers either way.

Broken. That’s the only word that came to mind when you saw her expression. Broken sobs left her lips. Her eyes glistened as they desperately searched yours for something, something that you had blocked off long ago. “You don’t mean that.” She whispered, her lips trembling along with her words.

You shut your eyes for a moment and prepared yourself to close the door on what you both had. “Goodbye, Wanda.” You whispered as you walked off without looking back.

If you did, you would have seen the way she fell to her knees. The knowledge that she had no one to blame for her own broken heart but herself bringing her to her knees. She buried her face in her hands as sobs wracked through her body. Longing for the comfort of your arms.

Silent tears rolled down your cheeks as you listened to the sound of her cries in the distance, but you knew it was for the best... At least you hoped it was.

That night Steve announced that it would be in everyone’s best interest to split up for the time being as he handed out older phones to everyone so each of you could be contacted and check in. After his announcement everyone retreated to their room. You quietly let Steve know where you planned on going and told no one else.

As you discreetly prepared to leave the following morning, you found a dozen flowers at your door, half purple violets and half white dittanies. The memory of the last time you saw these flowers filled your mind bittersweetly. A memory that no longer felt like it belonged to you.

When Wanda awoke, she was disappointed to find the flowers she had gifted you back at her door and the room you were staying in empty. Even if her heart ached, she knew that she couldn’t give up. She’d try and try again because your love was worth fighting for and she wouldn’t let you go again. She was determined to spend the rest of her life trying to win you back if she had to. There was no other path for her.

And there we have chapter 9! Angst, angst, angst. I got a little carried away lol. Only 3 more to go, where do you think the reader and Wanda will go from here? As always, hope you all enjoyed and thoughts and comments always welcome.

P.s. did anyone catch a hint of a different Sam Smith song in there? It may be a hint for the next chapter, it may not be. Still deciding.

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hongism · 4 years ago

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the little things - c.san

↣ pairing: san x reader; poly ot8 x reader ↣ genre: sfw, fluff, slight angst, fantasy au, witch ateez au ↣ wc: 3.3k ↣ summary: one of your favorite things to do is look at the stars with san ↣ warnings: none !

“You’re out rather early.”

You don’t turn towards the source of the voice; just hearing him speak is enough of a clue for you to know exactly who it is. Although, even if he hadn’t spoken, you’re sure you would have known from the flutter of wings that resounded before his arrival.

“The stars are prettiest right before dawn breaks,” you sigh, hugging your arms a bit tighter around your knees. Your new companion moves forward and comes to a stop beside you. He doesn’t sit down quite yet; for a while, he merely stands at your side and stares up at the same sky hanging above your heads. The time is roughly four o’clock in the morning — a late night for you and an early morning for San — but your words hold true. The glimmering stars are tucked behind fluffy and luscious clouds that seem to herald coming rain, and they shine against a midnight blue background that seems infinitely deep.

San sinks down to sit beside you at last, tossing his legs over the lip of the stone wall you’re perched on, and he sways his legs in rhythm with an unknown melody. You squeeze your knees as you press your cheek to one of them, enough to have a clear view of San’s pretty side profile against a landscape of green pine trees and shining stars.

“I thought you were out here to look at the stars,” San whispers. He glances at you out the corner of his eye. There’s no malice in his speech, just a hint of teasing, and you can’t keep your lips from quirking into a smile.

“I’m looking at you instead.”

“I should be the one looking at you, little star.” San turns his chin to face you, and his dimples flash as he grins back through the hazy moonlit night. “Our precious star,” he murmurs before reaching a hand out to trace over your forehead, slipping down to your temple then to your cheek and dragging the pads of his fingers over your skin in an unknown pattern.

“Why are you up so early?”

“Waiting for Hongjoong,” San says through a sigh. His hand retracts as quickly as it made contact, and you can’t pretend to be oblivious as to why. Things are always… harsh for San when Hongjoong is gone. It’s much worse when it’s a job like Hongjoong’s current one where the witch has to be gone for weeks at a time. Then San becomes quite volatile and hard to deal with — it only makes sense when a familiar is separate from his master for so long. Seonghwa tries to do damage control every time, tries to use techniques that normally help his own familiar Yeosang calm down, but they never work for San. Hongjoong is the only person and thing that can quell the anxieties and worries and stress that flow through San’s veins in times like these. And seeing as they are a bonded pair, it makes the connection of sharing emotional states weaker. They can’t share emotions this far apart, and that weighs heavily on San’s shoulders after being so used to sharing his heart in such a way for so long. Even if Hongjoong has a tendency to cut San off from feeling the brunt of his negative emotions, there’s still a lingering knowledge that the other is right there, just within grasp.

Not now, however.

San has gone three long weeks without even a breath of a whisper from Hongjoong.

And tonight (this morning? Today? Whatever time it may be) the witch is supposed to return. San’s nerves must be getting to him if he’s out this early because usually he would curl up in Hongjoong’s bed and await the witch there, presenting himself like a neatly wrapped present for the other to unravel with warm kisses and soft touches.

San clenches his fingers blindly around the lip of the wall.

“Tell me a story?” You inquire out of the blue. Your eyes shift to look up at the sky again. San huffs out a weak laugh.

“What kind?”

“Hm, how you and Hongjoong met?”

A risky choice, maybe, but you know how near and dear that tale is to San’s heart, and how much comfort it brings him in simply thinking of it. So it is also a very wise choice on your behalf. San’s lips twitch into the shadow of a smile.

“You’ve heard it so many times already…”

“I’ll give you something in return,” you coo, reaching out to pinch the skin around San’s elbow. He yelps like a kicked dog and offers up a deep pout that has you ready to tease him further.

“Seven kisses.”

“Seven?” You echo. Confusion slips into your tone. You can’t recall any significance to the number seven, nor can you remember whether it’s supposed to have special meaning.

“One for each time I’ve told you this story,” San murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. You scowl at the faint sensation as a laugh nearly escapes you, but you manage to bite it back enough to smile again.

“I always forgot how good a crow’s memory is.”

“Ravens remember well too, little star.”

You poke your tongue out between your lips in his direction, and San merely laughs at your expression before shifting closer to you. He loops a hand around one of yours, pulling it away from the leg you have propped up on the rock wall, then he loops his fingers through yours.

“Several hundred winters ago, this land we live in now held very different values and laws. The people were cruel and brash, only using their fists and crude weapons to handle gathering food and protecting their women and children. No one imagined there was any other way of doing things — the people knew nothing of what gentle prowess magic could offer.” San glances over at you, drawing a laugh from your lips when he makes eye contact with you. You shake your head ever so slightly.

“I didn’t mean for you to give me the version that’s in books and legends…”

San dares to giggle at that, and a moment later, he’s shifting his position so that he can rest his head against your thigh and look up at the stars like that. You have to push your other leg down to accommodate the shift, and once San is comfortably staring up at the sky with you, he begins speaking again.

“I was alone. It wasn’t something new; I was used to it at that point. Ravens don’t have the longest lifespan, and I was still a young familiar at the time. I had no owner or master. My mother’s master left our nest after she passed, leaving me with two sisters who were sick and close to death. They were too ill to shift to their human forms, so I couldn’t bring them to an apothecary or village. Ravens are seen as bad omens after all; had I brought them to a town, they would have been killed on the spot. I spent some time going between our nest and the nearest village, stealing food and medicine where I could because I couldn’t afford it. I worked some too, little odd jobs here and there, but it was a lot of delivery work. Made it easy to steal thankfully. Then… well, one day, I got too bold and tried pickpocketing a high-ranking guardsman. He was some lieutenant or something like that, I don’t remember. Too many years have passed since then. But I got caught trying to lift some coin off him in a bar, and he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out to the streets. He was planning on killing me right then and there with no trial, but some short little witch came stalking up without a care in the world and knocked the guard on his ass. He was going on and on about how rude it is to grab random people off the street like that.”

“Of course he would,” you murmur, a bit of fondness slipping into your tone. “Don’t let him catch you calling him short though.”

“Eh, he’ll survive. In any case, when the guard tried explaining that I was trying to pickpocket him, this witch extended a hand to me and asked if I needed help. I naturally said no because I didn’t think I could trust him, then took off running. I went back to my nest in the hopes of finding my sisters and telling them to get out of the area, yet when I got there, they were already gone. It had been nearly two years since my mother passed, so they were well enough to do things on their own at that point, but they’d never up and left like that without warning. I couldn’t do anything but stay and wait for their return. We’d gathered some food and supplies, so I was able to live off of it for several months before needing to depart for more again. The entire time, not once did my sisters return. They just… disappeared into thin air. I waited every day, wondered when they would come back, and some nights I would stay awake all night flying around the area in search of them.”

“That part always breaks my heart,” you whisper. Stretching a hand down, you drag your fingers along the curve of San’s cheekbones then his jaws, torn away from the stars as you look at the familiar.

“Why? Had it not happened, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I know but…”

“But Hongjoong found me,” San continues through a smile. You huff but let him finish the story, pointedly ignoring the curling grin he sends your way. “After a few months, I started noticing magical residue near my nest. And sure enough, that little witch from before was setting up camp nearby. I did nothing at first, watched him from afar for a while, then I got brave enough to try to lift a few things from his camp. That turned out to be quite the mistake because he caught me within three seconds of setting foot into that camp. And yet… instead of threatening to kill me or harming me, the little witch simply asked if I was alone. ”Are you alone? Do you have anyone with you? A master? I feel your magical energy yet it doesn’t seem normal. You must be a familiar. Where is your master?“ When I said I had no master and was on my own, the little witch was… hm, I would say he was both confused and concerned. Said it was no good for a familiar to go without a master. Without one, I would die within a few years. He suggested that I hurry along with finding one, and I explained I had absolutely no one else in my life.”

“And after that?”

San hums to himself a bit, bringing his hands up above his head as he stares at the night sky. A delicate little smile graces his pretty lips and squeezes his dimples out, but he doesn’t speak any other words for quite some time. The next voice you hear doesn’t even belong to him.

“After that, I invited San to spend some time in my care and work an honest job for me before going on his way to finding a master.”

Hongjoong.

You twist your neck towards the source of the voice, finding the witch standing a little ways away from the wall you and San are currently seated on, and he grins through the moonlit night at you. San jolts upwards at the sound of his master. The smile that splits his lips is so broad and heartwarming that it feels too intimate to look at, even for you who shares in their love for one another. It’s different for them, and you know that, even if it’s just a different strain of the same love, it’s different nonetheless. San hops off the wall in one swift move, closing the distance between his and Hongjoong’s bodies within seconds.

“As it turns out, we were…we did quite well together. And thus, here we are,” Hongjoong says as he lets San press his nose into the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. Had to make a few extra stops along the way to gather some supplies. How was he?” Hongjoong directs the words to you, watching with careful yet loving eyes as you pull yourself down from the wall as well and step closer to him and San. The familiar will be like this for a while; unmoving and unresponsive as he soaks in Hongjoong’s presence again and drowns himself in the sensation of having all those feelings doubled once more. Hongjoong will try to ease the burden as much as he can for both their sake, and you’ll do what you do best: taking care of both of them when it gets to be too overwhelming. While Seonghwa and Yeosang (who don’t go a long time without each other anyway) don’t have to deal with this type of ordeal, Hongjoong and San always do. Hongjoong thinks it has something to do with how frequent his trips are, or perhaps the lingering sensation of separation anxiety that San suffers from given his past. Either way, it makes their reunions that much more emotionally taxing and intense. Even you, who has not a drop of magical ability in your body, can feel the sheer power radiating off them both right in this moment.

“You came home at the right time. He was getting antsy,” you murmur back, reaching up to comb your fingers through the long hair at the base of San’s scalp.

“Next time I’ll leave you all with a bit more of a safety net.”

“Or you could come back sooner.”

Hongjoong nearly rolls his eyes, and you catch the way he stops himself just beforehand. The annoyance in his features is nothing serious, only something because he’s heard such words a hundred times over.

“No doubt you haven’t slept yet?” He inquires, trying his best to make his way to the door of the coven’s home. San proves to be quite the obstruction, as it seems, and Hongjoong has to hoist the slightly larger man up enough to loop his legs around the smaller’s waist. Hongjoong grunts from the added weight but manages to carry San the rest of the way with no other complaints. You trail along beside them, taking care of opening the door and grabbing Hongjoong’s satchel once inside.

“Welcome home, my sweet starlight. I see our star and bird found you before I could.” Seonghwa is the first to greet the three of you upon stepping inside. You only notice Yeosang’s sleek black cat form slinking around the hearth witch’s ankles when you’re helping Hongjoong out of his shoes.

“Mm, they were waiting outside,” Hongjoong mumbles into the chaste kiss Seonghwa delivers to his lips. Seonghwa also places a sweet kiss on the back of San’s head before Hongjoong steps around the taller man, continuing to carry San as he goes.

“Mingi fell asleep in your bed last night, so don’t be surprised if you find him there,” Seonghwa calls out over his shoulder. You stretch up to your tiptoes in front of him, half-expecting the kiss that he presses to your lips a few seconds later, but the sudden appearance of Yeosang’s human form popping up on your left is much less expected. You nearly jump out of your skin, and probably would have if not for Seonghwa placing a steadying hand on your hip.

“You haven’t slept either,” Yeosang comments, nose pushing hard against your cheek. You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“No need to lecture. I’m going up with them, don’t worry.”

“I’ll come by after Jongho heads out for morning work.” Yeosang smiles a little before turning on his heel and heading back into the kitchen, no doubt where Jongho waits. Seonghwa huffs out a laugh but sends you on your way without any more conversation. You catch him slipping back into the kitchen as well just as you start climbing the stairs behind Hongjoong.

“Did San fall asleep already?” You ask after the man. You can barely see the familiar’s face from how hard he has it pressed into Hongjoong’s neck, but his eyes seem to have fallen shut at some point. He’s either basking in Hongjoong’s presence as much as he can or he’s entered a pleasant state of unconsciousness with Hongjoong’s warmth around him.

“Almost. He’s calming down some though. I’ll put him in bed with Mingi then take a bath. Care to join?”

“Such a temptress,” you snort to his back.

“I’m only joking, my dear. Keep San and Mingi company while I’m washing up for me instead? We can bathe together another day.”

“Of course darling,” you murmur, drawing a hand across his shoulders once the two of you reach his door. “Be quick though. Mingi will want some time to cuddle before he joins Jongho for yard work.”

As Seonghwa warned, Mingi is already curled up into a tight ball in the center of Hongjoong’s bed when you enter the room. It’s not hard to move his lanky limbs to the side to make room for San, and when Hongjoong eases the familiar down to the mattress, Mingi immediately takes to curling his body around the smaller man like it’s an act of pure instinct. San nuzzles into the touch, releasing a content little hum. You feel a hand brush the small of your back and jerk to look Hongjoong in the eye. Turns out, it was only a way to distract you because he captures your lips in a quick kiss that tastes a bit of honey and cinnamon. You have no time to savor the taste, however; Hongjoong pulls away just as quick and mumbles something about being quick to clean up. You bring a hand up to touch the spot where his lips just were. The smile that overtakes your face is one you can’t hold back, and now it’s your turn to be content and happy as you pull the sheets back to join Mingi and San under the covers. A large hand clamps down hard on your waist, tugging you flush against San’s chest.

“Where’s my kiss?” Mingi’s voice rises through the silence, thick and groggy from sleep. You reach around San to smack him as gently as possible on the arm.

“Go back to bed.”

“Joong home yet?”

“Mhm, he’ll be in bed in just a bit.”

“Good,” Mingi sighs. He settles back into the mattress, maintaining his hold on you around San’s body, and you twist just enough to lean over the sleeping familiar.

“Kiss,” you murmur, and Mingi rushes to meet you halfway with a cheeky grin. “Okay, now sleep. You don’t have long before you have to be up.”

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep wrapped up in that embrace, and even when Hongjoong does finally come to bed, he doesn’t stir you from sleep except for the barest sensation of lips against your forehead. You might hear him mutter some loving words to all three of you, perhaps lingering a little while longer on San because he knows the familiar needs that reassurance and comfort right now more than ever, but once he settles down and tucks your head against his chest, a wildly comfortable and deep sleep overcomes you.

#atzinc #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #ateez x reader #san x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez fic #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #choi san x reader #san fluff #san angst #san imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez drabbles #ateez drabble #ateez scenario

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

Note

Is there any way we could possibly convince you to write more of the Eldritch!Danny au? As it's own phanfic? This, of course, would only be done once you are under considerably less stress, and can comfortably put the effort into that, if there ever could be such a time whilst writing Mortified and Stars Aligned. It could even wait until one or both of those has reached a point that you deem them Completed™. I'm just immediately part of Sam's Cult XD

It’s been a bit, and this is kind of random, but...

Clockwork’s avatar pressed the food to Danny’s lips, and he bit down, hard. Juices dribbled down his chin as the food squirmed. He moaned in something like relief as the pressure in the venom sacs in the roof of his mouth lessened. He ate.

He kept Dreaming of himself with fangs and venom. Did that mean something?

A cold pressure under his chin forced him to look up. Clockwork’s avatar inserted another piece of food into Danny’s mouth.

Of course, it means something, it said. You are such a generous soul that you must give of yourself before you can even do something as basic and vital as eat.

Something about that didn’t sound right, but Danny wasn’t in a position to argue, not when he found himself so hungry.

Clockwork’s avatar fussed over him, feeding him more and more, past the point of mere satiation to the point where he felt bloated and slug-like. He wanted to curl up and sleep real sleep. The image of a caterpillar who, having gorged itself, began to form a cocoon, flittered across his mind.

You are a long way from metamorphosis yet, dear one, said Clockwork’s avatar. Come. I have something for you.

Danny followed the tug of the chained collar around his neck, blinking blearily, his footsteps just a little unsteady.

The careful direction of the chain led him to a small table cluttered with trinkets. Clockwork’s avatar leaned down to press its cheek against the crown of Danny’s head. Its cloak fell to either side of Danny, cutting off his field of view to the left and right, leaving him with only the table and the wall behind it.

A gift, said Clockwork’s avatar.

“Why?” asked Danny. It felt odd to speak here, and much more so in English, but he was still learning how to use his True Voice.

I wanted to give you something myself, before we celebrate your birthday.

“My birthday is ages away,” said Danny.

From some perspectives, perhaps. But we missed so many of yours. We must make them up before the next one.

There was something ominous there, but Danny just leaned into the avatar’s touch, unwilling to devote himself to interpreting omens.

Pick one, said Clockwork’s avatar, pick wisely. Gifts received in the Dream become part of you.

Danny nodded and opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to look at the trinkets—no, the gifts—again. Gifts that, like all good gifts, came with strings attached.

There was something off about that thought.

But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if he could refuse a gift.

He reached out.

He picked the beaded pectoral necklace. Mostly because he was curious to see how it went on, what with the collar around his neck and all. Yes, this was the Dream, and multiple things could exist in the same place at the same time, but usually there was an… internal consistency, of sorts.

It turned out the answer was that the necklace merged with the bottom edge of the collar, which felt weird, but it was fine, because both were manifestations of Clockwork’s Love.

The unfamiliar weight of it hung strangely off his shoulders, especially given the counterweight that hung down his back, and forced him to alter his posture. He stood straight and… Well. Not tall. But to his full height.

Clockwork’s ticking sounded pleased. An echo of something where Danny’s heart once was agreed with that assessment.

When he left the Dream and went on with his life, it seemed as if not much had changed, except—

He felt more confident. More coordinated. He didn’t stutter as much. People listened to him more.

Even Sam and Tucker remarked on it.

Only a few days later, Clockwork called him back, reeling him into the deep Dream by the chain attached to his collar. He had another gift for Danny. A bracelet. Its weight joined that of the necklace.

Since you seemed to enjoy this so much, said the avatar, running its fingers over the faience beads.

And so it went.

Every few days, Clockwork would call him back and give him some new little adornment. A ring. A jeweled comb. An anklet. A brooch. A belt. Each gift seemed to smooth away some almost imperceptible flaw in his waking self, seemed to draw more eyes to him, more attention, more praise. People who would never give him the time of day before actually sought out his company.

He wondered. Each thing he was given was a display of wealth. Did that come across, somehow? Or was it simply gravity, the mass of his presence pulling in their regard?

The improvements weren’t just in his human life. The others were easier to fight, to distract and ward away. Their blows did not hurt nearly as much, nor did their ‘appearances’ distress him as much as they once had.

He noticed, too, the weight of what he wore in the Dream. Each ring, each bauble, made it easier for him to sink into the depths, made it harder for him to reach the surface.

Sometimes, after a return, he would like on the floor in his room, panting.

But he was growing stronger, too, and he hoped—

It didn’t matter what he’d hoped.

He could no longer reach the waking world. He tried seven times before the chain, vibrating with amusement, pulled him back to Clockwork.

We must celebrate, said Clockwork’s avatar, pulling a sort of woven metal sleeve over Danny’s right hand. It hooked neatly onto the rings on each of his fingers.

“Why?” asked Danny, barely holding himself back from falling to pieces. He had a responsibility to Amity Park. Not to mention, he wanted to live there with his friends and family.

Because it is a wonderful milestone, that you are too powerful to reach that place on your own. The avatar placed a crown of knotted metal on Danny’s head. This is what a cult is for, my little gem. To pull you up.

“What if…” said Danny, “I get too… heavy to be pulled up?”

Another milestone.

Except, no, Danny’s hand still hovered over the table, undecided. He let it fall back to his side and blinked, shaking his head to clear it of the vision that had just overtaken him.

Did it show what would be, what might have been? Or merely a possibility?

Reality splintered.

He put his hand down on a stack of folded white cloth, jostling the bells sewn to the hems. He didn’t actually know what it was, but it seemed harmless, and the fabric was soft.

It turned out that the cloth was a set of folded veils. The bells were weights, to make them hang properly.

Clockwork’s avatar helped him put them on in front of a mirror, since Danny had never worn anything like them before. The cloth was thin, diaphanous gauze. Where the veils touched the clothing he was already wearing, it whispered away, like it never was. In some places, mostly on his shoulders and back, for some reason, the veils merged smoothly, seamlessly, with his skin. It was an odd sensation, made more so by the fact that his nerve endings seemed to extend partway into the cloth.

Although, that might not be by design, but because Danny expected it. This was the Dream, after all.

Once all the veils were in place, the only pieces of his body exposed were his hands and bare feet. It was strange, looking at himself in the mirror through the sheer veils over his face and head. He almost looked like a ghost.

It was… it was kind of embarrassing, being dressed like this. The veils were the only things he was wearing, and even with all their frothy layers, he could make out the silhouette of his body beneath them.

He spun in place, just enough to hear the bells ring with high, clear tones. Like this, the subtle embroidery on the veils looked like feathers.

When he woke again, normal clothes felt rough and coarse against his skin in comparison. He gritted his teeth and bore it. He couldn’t very well walk to school in the nude.

“Did something happen last night?” asked Sam, surveying Danny up and down.

“Um,” said Danny, “yes, but why?”

“You look…”

“Mysterious,” said Tucker.

“Ethereal,” decided Sam. “But also…” She hummed. “Untouchable, maybe? I don’t know.”

Danny explained what had happened.

It was in the course of just messing around that they found another effect.

“Dude,” said Tucker, as Danny sat on his shoulders, “did you lose weight or something?”

“No?” said Danny, turning away from his sticky-note masterpiece on the classroom ceiling. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“You just seem a lot lighter than the last time we did this.”

They weighed him later, at Sam’s house. He was.

The next time he visited the dream, there were changes. One, the sensation in the cloth had extended. He could feel almost all the way to the ends of some of the shorter veils. Two, his form beneath the veils was less distinct. Softer. When he put his hand underneath them to check, his body felt softer, too. Three, he was glowing.

Of course, said Clockwork’s avatar, stroking its cold hand down his back in a way that made all of his new nerve endings overload. As the illusion fades, the truth may shine.

It did not elaborate, no matter how Danny pressed him. It did, however, pet him until he was left as little more than a pleasantly chirping puddle of veils and feathers on Clockwork’s floor.

He did not note the significance of the feathers until his next visit to the Dream, whereupon some of his veils had become wings, bells still attached and ringing with every motion. He spread them out and flew.

Flying was even better than he had imagined. Never before had he known such joy.

The changes continued, the form he wore in the waking world becoming progressively more and more alien to him, more grating and uncomfortable.

“That only makes sense,” said Sam. “You’re more than us. Being constrained like this can’t be good for you.”

Tucker nodded in agreement. “I mean, look at all of this.”

Danny looked around the cafeteria, catching several worshipful gazes.

“You don’t belong in a cage like this.”

“I want to be able to help,” said Danny. It had become easier, in some ways. It was as hard as ever to fight the others, but human aggression stopped dead in Danny’s presence.

“You’ll still be able to,” said Sam. “But Tucker’s right, you should be trapped here. You should in a high place… on a pedestal. Somewhere to give us hope. Somewhere we can look up to.”

He stood in front of Clockwork’s mirror again. There was a suggestion of a human body beneath the wings, but nothing more than that. Soon, even that would be gone.

Even as he thought it, he let his wings shift, forming a more spherical shape. The light at his center became blindingly bright, but Danny could still see the chains of Love attached to it that kept him grounded.

One of those chains pulled taught as Clockwork summoned him, not even bothering with the avatar this time. This time, Danny would be able to talk to Clockwork directly, and it would be fine, because Danny had shed that illusion of humanity and become more like Clockwork.

He entered Clockwork’s direct presence and—

Danny reeled as the vision simply stopped being something his mind could interpret. He felt a part of what he called his sanity crumble.

Perhaps… Perhaps not that one. Instead…

He chose the featureless white mask, lifting it with both hands. It was surprisingly heavy.

Clockwork’s avatar reached out, the sleeves of its robes whispering past Danny’s ears. Let me help you put that on, it said. It took the mask and flipped it over, brushing the broad, white satin ribbon out of the way with its thumbs.

Before Danny could think to protest, before he could decide if he wanted to protest, the mask was pressed against his face.

The soft inner lining fit perfectly snug against his features. Perfectly enough that it forced his eyelids and lips closed. The bottom edge of the mask cupped his jaw, preventing him from opening his mouth.

He could not see, with the mask on. Somehow, this surprised him. Part of him had expected to supernaturally be able to see through the mask.

This was inconvenient. On the other hand, not being forced to see the Dream and its denizens could be a boon in and of itself.

Clockwork’s avatar finished tying the ribbon. When you wear this, only those who know you will know you. And only those who you keep in place of your may have their knowledge progress.

Danny tested his ability to speak, first with human words and then with his True Voice. The best he could manage was a sort of hum.

I know you best of all. One cannot progress past completion. Remember, those who Love you will understand you, even without words. You will be allowed to remove the mask if it pleases you.

Danny nodded to show he understood, the weight of the mask making the motion more energetic than usual.

It took Danny time to learn how to navigate the Dream blind. The Dream was, well, Dream. It did not follow the usual rules of object permanence. Things Danny could not directly perceive existed only at the whims of others. While he was with Clockwork, he could have faith that things would stay mostly stable, but once he left, his world shrunk to echoes and what lay against his skin.

But when he did finally make it home and opened his eyes, he was able to fully understand what the mask gave him.

He could not see the nightmares and madness lurking just under reality. His sight was human. He turned to his mirror and saw not a monster, but simply his physical body.

He found himself weeping in relief. It had been so hard. Even if it was an illusion bought by ignorance, for the first time in far too long, he felt safe, no longer exposed.

Whether or not it pleased him, he might never take the mask off.

He walked to Jazz’s room to tell her the good news, only to discover he could not speak.

After some experimentation, Danny and Jazz determined that, when he wore the mask, his speech was as constrained in the real world as it was in the Dream. If he wanted to talk, he had to slip into the Dream to take it off.

It was inconvenient, but still. A perfectly hidden identity and relief from seeing were more than worth inconvenience.

With the mask on, he almost felt human again.

Before the school day began, he paused in the bathroom and braced himself. He had gotten away with being quiet at home, but at school, teachers would require him to answer questions.

He stepped into the Dream and reached up to untie the knot at the back of his head. It would not come loose. Danny pulled harder.

If it pleased him.

Well, it didn’t please him to be exposed in school. Beyond that… Danny suspected that Clockwork also had a hand in when he was allowed to remove the mask.

A few weeks later, the school psychiatrist diagnosed him with selective mutism.

“It almost makes sense,” claimed Tucker, gesturing at Danny’s ceiling, “if you think of it like a parent keeping their kid safe on the internet. Like, you don’t want their identity exposed, so you keep them from giving away personal information or talking to strangers.”

“That,” said Sam, poking Danny’s cheek, “or he wants your cute little face all to himself. What do you even look like in the Dream?”

“Like me,” said Danny. He raised a hand to touch his face. “I don’t know what I look like with the mask on.” The words came surprisingly easily. Before the mask, he’d worried that he’d eventually be unable to speak English, what with how difficult it was becoming to translate his thoughts to sounds.

Later that day, there was an incident. Danny couldn’t help. He couldn’t see.

(It was, however, very clear that the others could see him.)

(He couldn’t help but feel guilty.)

That night, Clockwork pulled him into the Dream.

There is someone I want you to meet, said Clockwork’s avatar as its fingers untied the mask.

“Who?” asked Danny as the mask came away. He nearly forgot his question as he once again took in Clockwork’s appearance. He had forgotten how beautiful it was here. Tears rolled down his face.

Your brother, said the avatar, gently leading Danny forward. I think you will get along. You both like masks.

It took a few minutes for Danny to distinguish this new presence from Clockwork’s, but once he did, the name came easily to his mind. This was Nocturne, the Dream Eater.

“Why is your mask different from mine?” asked Danny, because he couldn’t make a good first impression to save his life.

The mouth and eyes on Nocturne’s mask turned upward in humor. It plucked Danny’s mask from the hands of Clockwork’s avatar, and, to Danny’s simultaneous horror and delight, Danny discovered that he could feel Nocturne’s claws on the mask as if they were on his face instead.

That is because it is your face, said Nocturne, the one you show the world. Why wouldn’t you feel it when it is touched? When it is damaged? Nocturne ran his fingers down across the space where eye holes would have been in an ordinary mask, and Danny found himself forced to blink. For the other, it is because you are a child. I see and speak for myself. A child sees the world through their parent’s eyes. A child has no voice, but their parent speaks for them.

“Will it change when I get older?” asked Danny.

Nocturne laughed. You will not grow older. He moved forward suddenly, pressing the mask to Danny’s face, and putting one of his other hands against the back of Danny’s head. You will always be the youngest of us. The most… Human.

Is something wrong? asked Clockwork’s avatar.

“No,” said Danny, quickly. “It’s just hard to decide.”

You could have them all, it said, if it is so difficult.

Danny shook his head. “No, I just need more time.”

Maybe if Danny were human, this would be about getting the best deal, choosing the gift with the lowest price, but he wasn’t, and it wasn’t. This was about choosing the price he wanted to pay.

It surprised him, how much he wanted to pay some of them.

The set of bracelets clinked merrily when Danny touched them. They were four bands, each about two inches wide and a couple millimeters thick. The metal they were made of was smooth on the outside, but on the insides, they had the same fractal patterns as the collar.

The manacles are a good choice, said Clockwork’s avatar, approvingly.

Manacles.

Not bracelets.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think he was allowed to change his mind.

The manacles went around his wrists and ankles, each one closing with a snap. When they shut, the metal they were made of swirled, the hinges and seams disappearing to present a flawless surface and the overall shape shifting so the inside laid flush against his skin.

As soon as he closed the last one, and it finished altering itself, Danny felt a sharp pain through the center of his wrists and ankles, followed by a radiating numbness, as if a rod had been driven through each manacle, through each wrist and ankle, stopping only when it hit the other side. But the numbness soon faded, and as he flexed his hands and feet, he didn’t feel anything like that.

Still. The message was clear. The metal bands were not coming off.

Clockwork’s avatar took one of Danny’s hands, and examined the band. The metal, which had warmed against Danny’s skin, turned frigid under the avatar’s touch. For a moment, Danny’s vision blurred, and he saw a multitude of delicate chains leading from the manacle in every direction, connecting it to Clockwork, the other manacles, the collar around his neck and who knew what else. His vision cleared. A few long, silent minutes later, the avatar released him.

They were made with much skill. I hope you find them useful.

Danny nodded.

The manacles weren’t visible in the waking world, but Danny imagined he still felt them. Especially when he was doing things with his hands or feet.

‘Made with skill,’ indeed.

Lots of skills. Skills like drawing, writing, dancing, sign language. He didn’t trip or stumble any more but moved smoothly. It was interesting. It didn’t feel like the skills belonged to someone else. They were his, now, wherever they had originally come from. He knew how to do each thing he was doing, and he did them intentionally.

Still, his art (which he had always considered at least decent) was now scary good. He’d also outplayed Ember on the piano a few days back, breaking her hold on the people who had been listening. She’d been… rather upset about that.

It was worth it.

The string attached to the gift didn’t make itself known for a while. One day, while he was drawing, his wrists burned cold, and he found himself drawing something more than what he’d originally intended. The general subject was the same, but the skill put into it, the effort, was far, far greater. He’d meant to doodle a little, maybe for ten or so minutes before he went to bed.

Instead, it was hours later and if it wasn’t on the back of his French homework the drawing could have been hung in a museum.

It would have been the easiest thing in the world to imagine that he was being puppetted, controlled, that the manacles made him into a marionette, but that wasn’t what it felt like. Instead, it felt as if something had flipped a switch inside him.

He understood, then. The manacles granted him skills, but he couldn’t always decide when to use them. Or how much.

It wasn’t the last time it happened. He’d suddenly be seized with the urge to do something. Make use of some skill. And whatever he did when those urges settled over him was inhumanly good. Dangerously good. As in, attracting the wrong kind of attention good.

Those men in suits had been there for him, and he was quite certain that, if he had been perceptible to people foreign to Amity Park, they would have tried to take him. Tried, being the operative word.

More importantly, the mural he’d been compelled to paint on the side of the supermarket last night seemed to be attracting a following. He’d attempted to keep elements of the others out of it, but he knew they somehow slipped through, slipped past his attention, and into his art.

Sam and Tucker thought it was fine, though. He was inclined to trust them.

He was glad that the manacles did not seem to infer any violent or deadly skills. He wasn’t what he would do if they did and the urge to act turned into an urge to harm.

The manacles turned cold.

Perhaps he’d bake a cake. Something for Sam and Tucker, as a thanks for putting up with him.

Danny slumped against Clockwork’s avatar, who held him without complaint. These visions were mentally draining. They would be, what with containing weeks compressed into seconds.

Were they seconds?

The picture frame caught Danny’s eye. It was a picture of him, as an infant, being held by Clockwork’s avatar, the great expanse of Clockwork himself in the background. Danny wasn’t quite sure he knew the picture was of himself. Really, he’d been a generic-looking baby. But he did know.

He took the picture.

Nothing happened. He went home, woke up, and went about his normal life. On occasion, he would look at the picture when he dropped into the Dream. It warmed something in him.

It took him a month to realize he was aging backwards.

To be fair, no one else seemed to notice, either, even though the change was much more rapid than normal forward aging. Danny suspected they were being blocked from noticing.

No, that wasn’t quite right. They treated the age he appeared as the normal state of things, but they also treated him as if he were his apparent. Something which had bothered him all last week, even if he didn’t realize why it was happening.

It made it slightly more embarrassing that he himself had only noticed when he’d gone to retrieve a cup from the top shelf in the cabinet and couldn’t because he was too short.

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were confused when he brought it up to them. They seemed to be under the impression that he’d always been a few years younger than Sam and Tucker. That he’d been skipped forward a few years to be in the same class as them. Danny had let the subject drop. He had no idea how to even begin fixing this. If it even could be fixed.

Every day, as he got younger and younger, he also seemed to attract more and more attention. Positive attention. People would smile at him, tell him he was cute, give him presents out of nowhere. Danny couldn’t say he hated it.

Until he got small enough for people to carry around. Which they did. Frequently. Without asking for permission. Even this wasn’t so much of a problem.

Until the cult.

Until the knife.

Until the sacrifice.

(And Clockwork was so thrilled to be able to raise him from infancy.)

He hadn’t decided yet.

How could he decide? They were amazing gifts. Terrifying gifts. Gifts he could not refuse. Gifts he didn’t want to refuse, at least on some level.

But this wasn’t about what he wanted. It was about what he could live with.

The pectoral gave him power and the respect of his peers but took away his ability to use those things in the defense of Amity. Although being powerful in the Dream was an idea that tickled at the shadows in Danny’s mind.

The veils gave him something he always wanted – flight – but at the cost of his humanity and individuality.

The mask would protect him, let him hide and return to a mostly ordinary life, but he would lose the chance to face his new existence on his own terms as well as some of his autonomy. Not to mention, his ability to actually help his people.

The manacles gave him skills he’d enjoy, but also made him a hazard for others.

The picture frame… Something twinged inside Danny’s chest… The picture frame gave him a new life with Clockwork, from the very beginning. But he’d lose everything else and kickstart an unmanageable cult.

He couldn’t give up his friends, his family, his human life. He couldn’t give up his ability to protect Amity. Perhaps all those things would fade from importance in his mind as he became more and more other, but for now they were razor sharp. That made his choice clear.

“The manacles,” he mumbled to Clockwork’s avatar. He could work around the drawbacks (even if part of him resisted the notion that the drawbacks were drawbacks).

The avatar stroked Danny’s hair. An excellent choice.

“How,” said Danny, trying to recollect his thoughts, “how do they work?”

Danny’s eyes fluttered as he saw the chains on the manacles again. The way they felt on his skin was just like what he remembered.

Skills that go unused are lost in the Dream. These find them and bring them to you, bind them to you, so they are never lost again. Clockwork’s avatar plucked one of the chains. It felt as if someone had traced their fingers possessively up one of his arms. Although some of the chains have other functions. It nuzzled Danny as something deep below in Clockwork’s depths began to chime. One can never be too connected to those they Love.

Danny woke in his bed and moaned. His pillow was wet with drool. Evidently, he had left his body behind this time. That happened, on occasion, when he went to the Dream. He was never sure how he felt about it.

He raised his hands up above his head. As expected, the manacles were not visible, but he did feel more… connected to the world around him. Being connected was good. It meant that what happened before wouldn’t happen again. It meant that he wouldn’t be lost.

He lowered his hands, clasping them over where his heart would have, should have been.

The connections, though, were mostly to Clockwork, who was as inhuman as any of the others Danny protected Amity Park from. Should that bother him? He thought of what Nocturne had said in the other timeline, the one where he had chosen the mask. He’d known, already, that as much as Clockwork protected him, he also kept him in a state where he needed that protection. Wasn’t it natural? Wasn’t it the desire to keep Loved ones close?

His breath hitched as he briefly felt the soothing mental weight of Clockwork’s Love increase.

It was fine, wasn’t it?

#danny phantom #eldritch abomination au #ask #answer #loved

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stxrvel · 4 years ago

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cowboy like me

summary: a bad day for Bucky, a splendid week for the woman. mixed feelings and memories of a stormy past prevent Bucky from giving voice to his true feelings. (I'm really sorry I'm so bad at summary's)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 2k or so.

warnings: poor bucky letting his feelings get the better of him and saying mean things from time to time, sorry bout that. oh, and I wrote this in the third person, I don't know if that's a warning but still. and last but not least, English is not my native language so I apologise in advance for any mistakes.

also, the title of this and the part of the song quoted below only inspired the setting of this one-shot. the "plot" is independent of the theme song. I just have a bunch of taylor's songs that inspires me scenarios like this with independent plots, it's like a hobby. and ALSO, this is my first fic in here, and I really hope to do more parts in the future, especially when this semester is over. so, I hope you like it!

you're a bandit like me eyes full of stars hustling for the good life

It had not rained like this for quite some time. Lightning echoed in every part of the city and the drops were crashing against the window glass with the speed of a Maserati on a winding road; the sky was dark even though it was only four o'clock in the afternoon. Inside the room, the atmosphere was warm and comfortable, one of the reasons she stopped by at least five times a week. However, a few minutes before the downpour began, the whole atmosphere had turned so grey that for a moment it seemed as if the clouds were bringing a bad omen...

But no, it was only him.

The man who always sat next to her in the cafeteria to use one of the computers that the café provided as a service.

Besides the sound of the bell above the door and his soaked boots, it was his exasperated sigh that caught her attention before she looked away from her laptop screen.

His hair fell over his forehead with a few raindrops slipping from his forehead and temples, until they were lost under his jawline and mingling in the cotton of his shirt. The frown he kept on his face did not disappear as he tried, very unsuccessfully, to dry his clothes by shaking them slightly.

He would definitely do anything to keep that leather jacket and gloves on.

The smell of coffee and the hustle and bustle of the room contrasted with the calm but resignedly helpless attitude of the man who was running his hands heavily over his trousers as if they were a portable hairdryer.

Michael, one of the waiters who occasionally gave them ham and cheese croissants on Saturdays when they were both there, approached the sulking man and, seconds later, they both disappeared into the kitchen behind the till.

The screen of her mobile phone lit up as she tried to refocus on the reading she had to do.

Betty: I still don't understand how not wanting to visit your abusive dad in hospital is an important topic of conversation in a counselling session. I mean, the words abusive father say it all.

Tell me you're on my side.

Me: I still think you should change your psychologist.

Betty: I know! But at that clinic it's 30% cheaper than getting a private one. But, I already have a solution, next week I'll...

The squeak of the chair next to her being dragged startled her and her mobile phone almost flew out of her hands. The grumpy man, now a little drier, dropped the weight of his giant body on the poor chair so that it squeaked as if complaining about the man's rudeness. He stared at the computer screen on as if it held the solution to all his problems.

“Bad day?”

“Just an unfortunate string of inconveniences since I opened my eyes this morning,” he commented seriously and gravely as he began to move his hands over the keyboard. He hadn't looked at her when he spoke, which was not unusual, but at the moment it felt inappropriate, “Nothing I'm not used to.”

The woman turned her head to look at the twenty-seven pages she still had to read, and it seemed too tedious a thing to spend her time on now that Bucky had arrived.

“Is there anything I can do for you? I'm going to apply for a job at a daycare, maybe I could start practicing with you.”

Bucky faked a laugh, rather bitter and strained the kind she was used to hearing, “Very funny,” he said, his gaze dark and fixed on the screen.

“Sometimes you laugh at my jokes.”

“When they're funny,” he blurted out as soon as she finished speaking, instantly regretting it but not showing it in his body language.

“Hey! Don't hurt my feelings like that. What happened with your therapist? If you want to talk about it, sure.”

She watched his body tense and how he made no attempt to hide the bitter expression on his face as soon as the word "therapist" left her mouth. The woman thought she'd made a poor choice of words, yet Bucky felt unsettled by how strangely easily she seemed to be able to read his attitudes. Since when had she started doing such things? Had she always been that way? Had he let his guard down that much these past few weeks?

“Just... trouble, in general,” he pronounced her name with feigned gentleness, sending a shiver down her spine. Had he noticed by now? So soon? She thought, hastily.

“Okay,” she mumbled, trying to keep her composure as her mind worked at full speed, “I understand if you don't want to talk about it.”

No, he couldn't have noticed. Regardless of how damaged and broken she was inside, she knew that wasn't something Bucky paid the most detailed attention to. And, even if that were the case, there wasn't a person on the planet who knew her better than he did at this point, so if he wanted to walk away and leave her to not deal with her problems and constant chatter, he would have done so long ago.

Bucky sighed deeply, the movement of his chest aching from the lump in his throat. His hands moved on automatic over the keyboard, digging into things he already knew, spending the time just trying to divert the train of thought that wouldn't leave him alone. Anyway, is it really so bad for someone to know me like that? He thought, as the woman returned to her reading, it's not bad to be vulnerable once in a while, she's not going to hurt me. I know, I know.

Then why does it scare me so much?

His hands clasped as a third presence appeared between them. Michael, with a giant grin on his face, set two medium-sized cups of coffee on the small table they shared in front of the window. The woman's, with milk and sweetened with vanilla, as she always asked for. Bucky's, black, plain and cold, the way he always drank it.

The girl sitting next to him and the barista shared a couple of words in a conversation that seemed to be too funny, because she kept laughing. Why did he find her laughter annoying? Was it because it was too loud, or because it sounded too high-pitched unlike her normal laughter? When she laughed with Bucky, her tone was softer, gravelly, delicate and jovial. He couldn't describe the sensation that burned in his chest every time her eyes narrowed at her smile, or every time she brought her right hand to her chest, over her heart, as if she couldn't bear to laugh anymore, but at the same time holding back the pain in her cheeks so she wouldn't stop.

Michael didn't get that. No, he wasn't getting what Bucky was.

“Bucky?”

Her chuckling voice disconnected him from the bizarre conjectures in his mind, and he turned his eyes to her. She was looking at him with a rueful smile and her cheeks were too flushed.

“Are you all right?”

The aforementioned reveled in the sight that was plastered in front of him, with her sparkling eyes and the way her lips curved, before replying, “Yeah, all good.”

When he noticed Michael was still there, his shoulders tensed and quickly his gaze refocused on the sea of words displayed on the screen in front of him.

“You're too stiff,” he heard the woman's voice again a few seconds later, “Are you sure you don't want to do something to distract yourself? There are a lot of things coming to mind right now.”

Bucky turned to look at her with a frown.

“What things?”

“Um, last week you told me you've never played twenty questions before.”

The man arched an eyebrow, intrigued by how his mind played him, but quickly replied, “Do I look like the kind of person who plays the twenty questions?”

“Not really, but that day you told me you were willing to try it if I played it with you.”

Bucky was silent for a few seconds.

“I don't remember saying that.”

“Sometimes you don't remember a lot of things for convenience, Barnes,” she teased innocently, but Bucky knew what that meant: you're always evading me when I'm trying to help you.

And well, it was true.

“I imagine you don't remember Sam's invitation to you three days ago either.”

“What invitation?” he played distracted, as he pretended to vehemently read what he'd Googled.

“He asked you to join him to watch a game at the bar two blocks from your flat.”

Bucky hummed as he pretended to think about what he'd just heard, even though he remembered it perfectly. And he knew that earlier in the day he'd left it on hold, which was a clear and express no, but he hadn't said that to the woman who was now staring at him.

“I don't like football.”

The woman let out a snort of exasperation.

“This is why you have no friends, Bucky.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Bucky knew it was a joke. She'd said things like that to him before and it had never bothered him; he knew she didn't mean it in a derogatory way or to make fun of him. She would never do that. But subconsciously, he couldn't stop his mouth from blurting out the words he didn't want to say; words he would never have thought to say to her.

“I know you've had a bad day, Buck,” she spoke again after a few seconds, “But I just want to distract you.”

“I don't need your help, I can manage on my own.”

“Okay, let's just... change the subject, shall we?”

Bucky pursed his lips, but didn't dare connect their gazes.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's okay," she mused, and didn't speak again until a couple of seconds later, “How was your date?”

He gave a small smile before saying, “I'm sure you waited for a reasonable amount of time so you could satiate your curiosity.”

The woman let out a laugh, the kind that had the ability to calm Bucky's countenance for a few moments, before replying, “It's just that ever since I met you I didn't think I'd ever see you going on a real date.”

“And you probably won't again.”

“That's how bad it went?”

Bucky twisted his mouth, only remembering the image in the background of his neighbour's flat.

“It could have been worse.”

“Maybe we're just not cut out for dating.”

After a long moment, Bucky turned his head to watch her pursed lips. Her expression seemed downcast, but she pulled herself together quickly when she felt his gaze on her.

“What we've done or who we've been in the past, doesn't define what we can do or be now,” he reminded her of the words she always said to him when he felt he didn't deserve something good, and watched her nod at his words with a small smile, “Don't torment yourself thinking about it, neither of us had a choice.”

“I could tell you the same thing.”

Bucky smiled, sincerely, and for the first time since he had awoken that morning.

“I apply the philosophy you preach perfectly, I'm a great disciple.”

She elongated a sarcastic laugh that widened Bucky's grin. What was it about her that drew you in and bewitched you like that?

“In a trauma contest, you'd take first place, Barnes.”

“We'd be tied, you mean.”

The woman smiled at him, and between their looks, they both knew they were only hiding the truth behind the humour. Bucky didn't often do it, but since he'd met her, and considering that was something she often did -using humour to cover up the truth she'd rather not accept, or simply to hide the pain-, he'd gotten such a habit of doing it every so often that even his therapist was a little put out the first time he joked about one of his traumas in front of her. It was a very strange scenario that was never repeated.

“I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier,” Bucky took the floor again, a little more relaxed than when he'd arrived soaking wet in the cafeteria, “It's just... I killed my neighbour's son.”

“No,” she replied quickly and firmly, as she did every time a similar topic came up in their conversations, “It was the Winter Soldier. It was a person they created to control and disenfranchise, that wasn't you. It wasn't the Bucky I know. I'm sorry to hear that, but... it wasn't your fault, I know that whatever they did for your mind was always rejected by your body, even if you couldn't control it.”

The man half-opened his lips, wanting to say something, wanting to give voice to the jumble of thoughts concurring in his mind, but nothing managed to come out other than incoherent babbling.

“I... I don't know how to tell him.”

“You really want to?”

Bucky nodded, looking into the woman's shining, understanding eyes as she brought one of her hands up to cradle the side of his face.

“Then you'll find a way. Don't push yourself.”

He rested his right hand on the hand the woman held on his cheek, and leaned his head slightly into her touch. Although the stress and tension did not disappear completely, it did give way to a relaxing and lively sense of calm and stillness. Bucky didn't know if she had done it on purpose or not, but her words, though few, brought back a harmonic undertone he hadn't allowed himself to return to in a long time.

Then you'll find a way.

Don't push yourself.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter solider #tfatws bucky #tfawts #fatws

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13uswntimagines · 5 years ago

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Better Luck Next Time (USWNT x Baby!Reader)

Request: Reader is really bad at expressing her feelings and talking about things she loves, so the team helps her as best as they can. And one evening she calls them all into a room and tells them how much they all mean to her and how happy she is to have them

Author’s note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog because without her this imagine would not have been nearly as cute or cohesive. It’s set up kind of like a three times she didn’t and the one she did format. I also couldn’t help the little hint of Mal x reader that i stuck in here. Let me know what you think! i freaking live for feedback. Hit me up with questions, requests or if you just wanna say hi. My inbox is always open!

3 days on the team

Fuck the beep test.

You fell to your knees panting heavily, sweat pouring off your forehead as you stared in disbelief at Kelley. How the fuck was she still going? The rest of your team had already been eliminated, everyone except for the flying squirrel.

You had barely made it to the line on time, and there she was, running off to the next one in time to hear the next one like you hadn’t just done 70 reps. You had to up your game if you wanted to keep your spot. Your plan was simple- beat the best players and show them why you belonged.

A bottle of water appeared in your peripheral vision. You flinched waiting for the icy spray to hit your face, but it never did.

“You did good kid. Don’t beat yourself up about getting out earlier than Kelley. I don’t think anyone could actually beat her.” She said, pushing the water bottle into your hands and making you take a sip.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words would come out. You weren’t sure if that was because The Alex Morgan was talking to you, or if it was because your lungs were no longer in your chest.

“I swear, the rest of us could tag-team this thing and she would still probably outlast us,” Alex said, shaking her head as she walked away, already used to your non-responses (though she was sure she saw your lips twitch up) “I’ve stopped trying, it’s so not worth the knee pain tomorrow.”

You opened and closed your mouth several times as if you were going to call some sarcastic response after her, but the words just wouldn’t come out. You just sighed, resting your head on your knees, your chin hitting your chest-- better luck next time.

*****

6 months on the team

The bus was a tricky situation. On most days the team didn’t care where you sat, but you knew that would change drastically during important tournaments, like Olympic qualifiers big. You had already been warned that where you sat- where everyone sat really- mattered.

Screwing it up could bring the team bad luck, and you really didn’t want to be the reason why your team wasn’t going to the Olympics for the first time.

For that reason you tried to be the last person on the bus, so you could tell where to sit based on what seats were open, but Emily had forgotten something and so she and Lindsey had run off to grab them, and now you were staring down the aisle of a partially filled bus wondering whether you were about to cast an omen of doom if you set your bag down.

“Third row on the left is open, or 8th on the right,” you hear a voice pipe up from behind you. One of Christen’s warm hands settled on your shoulders, the other held her duffel bag partially over her shoulder.

You felt yourself relax at the directions, incredibly grateful for the woman who had become one of your many team moms. You hadn’t ever spoken a full sentence to the woman, but she embraced your shy nature without blinking.

“You could also crash with Mal, she doesn’t have a bus buddy,” Tobin’s bead popped up on your other side, wiggling her eyebrows. It was funny to most of the girls that their two team babies had things for each other.

A light blush spread across your cheeks as you nodded. “Thanks” You mumbled, throwing your bag into an empty row, unwilling to sit with your crush. Tobin snorted as she settled back down, propping her feet up on the seat in front of her, her head on Alex’s shoulder as she slumped halfway down in her seat.

“Better luck next time kid,” Christen winked at Mal and tossed her a small package of Oreos when she pouted.

*****

9 months on the team

Going against Japan was never fun. They were a technically sound team with none of the friendly players like Leah or Jessie. That and they still held a massive grudge from the 2015 World Cup.

As the second half had progressed, the Japanese team had become increasingly desperate. In their attempts to get the ball out of their defending half and into the US box, they had left giant gaps in their defense that Linsey and Sam were exploiting. As forwards, you and Alex were getting sent through balls and crosses.

You collected a particularly nice ball threaded by Lindsey and broke towards goal, beating the two defenders that were marking you and looking for Alex. You were so focused on tracking her position that you didn’t see the center back coming in for a tackle until it was too late and you were staring up at the clouds, tweety birds fluttering around your head.

You could feel the headache forming, like a growing stress ball where the base of your head met your neck. That was going to hurt once the adrenaline rush was over.

“Hey Beaker, you alright?” Emily’s head appeared in your immediate vision, her worried form slightly fuzzy around the edges.

“Meep meep” You huffed, sending the woman a little smile. It was weird to see Sonnett so serious. She put down a hand to pull you up and began brushing the grass off your jersey.

“How the fuck is that not a yellow or a PK, her studs were up and she wasn’t even going after the ball,” Lindsey yelled towards the ref, jogging past you to get right in the woman’s face.

“Go help your girlfriend, mm fine” You mumbled, embarrassed by the attention you were getting. Emily’s presence was comforting, but couldn’t block the feeling of thousands of eyes throughout the stadium, watching you to see if you were going to be pulled from the field. You wondered if many of them were almost hoping for it.

Emily sent you a worried look before patting your shoulder. “That was almost a goal too! And hey, they wouldn’t have fouled you if you weren’t killing it out here!” She nudged your shoulder lightly with hers and released you to the medics, walking over to Lindsey and pulling her away from the ref before she got a red.

You watched them for a bit before someone shined a flashlight in your eyes. Maybe next time you would find the words to thank them, someday when you weren’t feeling so dizzy. You’d have better luck next time.

*******

1 year on the team

Oreos were the quintessential after practice snack. It appeased the vegans and catered to the sweet tooth of the younger side of the team, and really, anyone who didn’t like Oreos was surely messed up.

Normally the team took turns bringing the packets of double-stuff, hiding them in duffel bags so coaches wouldn’t see and remind them about the diets they were all supposed to be on during season (and Dawn was like a bloodhound when it came to contraband).

But to celebrate something the team would forego the normal packs set out by the coaching staff in favor of double, triple, or mega stuffed ones and some funky flavors. And right now was a celebration if you ever saw one. The team was jubilant after their extremely entertaining scrimmage. Your team, Cool Beans (named by Tobin), had beaten team Hot Stuff (Alex’s team) 6 to 5, you scoring 3 of said goals.

You smiled lightly from your place on the locker room bench, munching happily on your mint Oreo and listening to several of the conversations happening around you. You felt so comfortable tucked between Mal and Christen, so safe and welcome.

“You know, I really love you guys,” you said. There was a lull in the conversation, and several girls turned toward you in shock.

“Holy shit, Meep Meep just talked!” Emily exclaimed, all eyes turning to you and your very red cheeks. Perhaps you hadn’t meant to say that out loud...

“We all knew she could talk,” Mal protested, throwing a balled-up cookie packet at her. Emily only smirked as the piece of plastic drifted through the air, falling about a foot short of its intended target.

“Yeah but she said more than 3 words,” Lindsey rolled her eyes at the 2nd youngest forward, wiggling her eyebrows at Mal who had wrapped her spare arm around your waist.

“I just-... you guys make me feel safe and I’ve never had my friends become like family before, and I love you guys,” You said, smiling at the ground.

“We love you too Kiddo,” Christen said, from behind your left ear.

“Group hug!!!!!” Kelley yelled before anyone could stop her, the women sharing a conspirator look before rushing you.

You tried to protest, but in the end, there was no stopping them. A bundle of arms wrapped around you, dragging you to the floor in a dog pile.

“Isn’t this nice!” Emily said from somewhere above you.

“Would be nicer if your elbow wasn’t embedded in my spleen…” You grumbled, hushing when Mal leaned up to kiss your cheek. Yes, these women were crazy, but right now you felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #literalhedgehog

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years ago

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Kiss of Death pt 2 (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: If the Angel of Death came upon you but you had half an hour, what would you do?

Part 1.

BGM: Ateez “Inception” slowed + reverb (Insomnio on YT)

Word count: 1,284

Warnings: Character death and bodies

Tags: @rintomoj @yuki-osaki @yamichxn @lonelyfangirl453 @cyanide9602 @liviitehe @bigkoalafications

a/n: Feels good to be back to writing here~ As promised, this sequel part is the day after the first part. Am I sorry for my first post after hiatus being angst? Not really, whoops 😉. Enjoy suffering~

Todoroki didn't know what kind of dream that was; it was too realistic for him to categorize it with his other dreams. He even began to doubt that it even was just a figment of his imagination. Normally, the images in his head would be too abstract and scattered to remember all the details; although still spotty and scattered, the images his mind had conjured up were too defined than anything he'd experienced before. Even the kiss felt irresistibly real, and he wondered how his inexperienced mind conjured such a sweet taste. In a way, he was disappointed that his mind dangled such an opportunity over his head teasingly.

"I have feelings for you.”

As Todoroki opened his refrigerator to look for some breakfast, he frowned to himself. The images held a strangely incomplete weight to it, something he can't put his finger on. The entire scenario seemed like call to action in disguise for some unknown reason. Perhaps this was his sign that he should seize the opportunity, take matters into his own hands, make his dream a reality. The powers at be were giving him the green light; this was some divine signal that his confession would be reciprocated and he has nothing to fear.

His heart skipped a beat and his cheeks rushed with heat at the thought of his reality aligning with his inner fantasy, the memory of your soft lips ghosting over his. It seemed too good to be true, but still somehow within his reach.

Fueled by this affirmative omen, he decided to pay you a visit after breakfast for a coffee date.

Todoroki pulled his scarf slightly looser as he entered your apartment building, his body temperature suddenly warmer. Numerous times on the walk over did he have to remind himself of why he was here, the light that was mostly likely waiting for him at the end. Picturing your smiling face and how precious you would be standing with him kept his feet moving. If he didn't take advantage of this sudden flash of confidence today, he couldn't be confident that it would strike him again.

He called the elevator and took another calming breath. The doors opened almost immediately and he stepped in. In a daze, Todoroki pushed the button to your floor, his mind palace painting lovely images of you two going on casual dates strolling through the park, having fun at amusement parks, and cuddling under the stars. He almost missed the desperate call of someone rushing towards him.

"Hold the door!"

He snapped out of his daze and pushed the open button right before the steel doors shut. The breathless figure stumbled in, heaving for breath. "Thank you- Oh, Todoroki." The figure straightened up.

Todoroki bowed his head briefly in greeting. "Good morning." He recognized them as your close friend whom you talked fondly about often.

Their eyes flickered to the button for your floor that's already illuminated as the doors shut. "Here to see (Y/n)?" they asked cheerily.

"Yes, just to visit," he responded vaguely. "I haven't seen them in a while, I thought I would drop by."

"I'm sure they would appreciate that," the shorter friend smiled. "Especially since they need help cleaning today, they would love the extra set of hands." They checked their phone. "I wonder what suddenly got into them that they decided to message me at almost 3 last night."

"Yeah, I came at 3 am to confess to you, I’m sorry.”

His clock in his dream and your words flashed through his mind and he cocked an eyebrow to himself before shrugging it off as a strange coincidence. In regard to your friend's words, he decided to rework his plan. He didn't mind helping you clean your place. It would make his request to take you out to coffee afterwards more natural as a job well done for cleaning.

The elevator opened on your floor. "They must be sleeping still, they didn't answer my text." The two of them approached your door and the friend knocked. "(Y/n)! Wakey wakey! Your cleaning crew has arrived!" Without waiting for an answer, they lifted the doormat to retrieve the spare key hiding under it, unlocking the door and bursting in.

As they announced their arrival, Todoroki closed the door behind him and removed his shoes and quietly took in your home. He smiled to himself because the atmosphere and decorations remind him of you.

"(Y/n), come on! Get up!" Your friend quickly slipped off their shoes and coat, messily throwing them onto your couch before dashing straight to your room.

Todoroki hung back instead, opting to stroll around your living room instead. It's not his first time here, but he didn't think you were close enough to enter your room so brazenly; he respected your privacy. He occupied himself with rehearsing how he would confess his feelings to you. He wanted to make it as earnest but smooth as possible. Should he take your hand when he's done? Should you be walking around or remain inside the coffee shop when he says his piece? There were so many options, but he wanted to make that moment as perfect as possible because you deserved nothing less.

"Todoroki! Come over here!"

The alarm in your friend's voice prompted him into action. All his thoughts scattered into incoherent fear. What in the world could've happened? He didn't know.

Todoroki burst into the room and wildly surveyed the scene. Your friend stood frozen over your bed where you lay, but something seemed off. Why would you be sleeping over your sheets and blanket?

"I-I came to wake them up, they didn't respond to me calling them- When I went to shake them, they-they-" They stepped back before knocking into the desk.

Todoroki's mind raced with a thousand thoughts, none of them pleasant. A shaky hand hesitantly grazed the crook of your neck and his breath stalled.

You were cold.

He drew his hand back, refusing to believe any of this. His world suddenly spun on its head. How could you be-?

The rest of his dream echoed in his mind.

"I have to tell you something It can’t wait until morning.”

"I didn’t want to leave without finally saying this to you."

He stumbled back a few steps as he remembered you suddenly vaulting off his balcony.

Your friend sank to the floor, clutching a paper and envelope, body wracked with a sudden onset of sobs as they cried your name. "(Y/n)! T-They're gone!"

The pieces finally click together, Todoroki's body grows cold. Last night was no dream, it was your final goodbye to him.

That was your goodbye kiss to him.

It was his turn to fall to the floor, shudders wracking his body as his throat threatened to close because of the sobs welling up inside him. The sweet kiss he savored only a minute before suddenly tasted bitter, the future he'd built up for you two ripped away from him. Todoroki fell apart to the feeling of guilt, regret, anger, misery, distress, and so many other ineffable emotions. Various self-loathing what-if's and if-only's consumed him.

Todoroki couldn't bear to see your face; even if he wanted to, his body shuddered too much to move and his tears blinded him. His heartbeat nearly deafened him as your friend read your note aloud as their voice broke and wailed. He felt cheated by fate. He refused to believe this was when you were meant to depart, not when he'd experienced just a few seconds of the bliss of you two being together, regretting that he hadn't acted on his feelings sooner and stupidly believed he was sleeping during your final moment together.

Never again would he indulge in your cheerful expressions, your endearing mannerisms, your sweet voice. You now only lived in his memories and in his dreams, as you'd never live in his reality anymore.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki angst #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #gender neutral reader #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha angst #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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oh-for-fic-sake · 5 years ago

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A Witcher's Pack Chapter One

Masterlist

Chapter Two

Warning: Adult situations +18 SMUT, Breeding Kink, A/B/O

A/n This is the brainchild of me and @havenoffandoms who helped me a lot with suggestions that I hadn't even thought of xx this will be a short chaptered fic hope you enjoy

Geralt finds his omega and Jaskier helps.

A Witcher's Pack Chapter One

You sighed watching the younger children running playing, weaving in and out of the sparse stalls in the village market. You sighed wistfully as they played chase, not a care in to world. You was jealous. You had that at some point, a reason to laugh, smile and play. You hand tightened on the basket as you were spotted by one of the mothers she was glaring at you. A beta. Most people here were betas there was only two alphas in the village. One an old waif of a man long past his prime and the other a young teen who had only just presented now that puberty had hit him and it had hit him like a brick wall, you smirked as you recalled the mouthy little shits wails as his senses were overloaded and had caused him to erupted in the most unsightly of ways.

You smiled as you remember him kicking, screaming and groaning, how he could be an alpha was beyond you ,he was a well known mamas boy even now at eighteen he hid behind her skirts. Your bet was on black magic Alphas presented at puberty he was eighteen summers old. But of course his presentation was a good omen and there was a celebration over it. You sneered 'yes it was fine for them'. You hissed in your mind as you strode across the market picking up vegetables for the week. Quickly taking your share you turned leaving the market without a second glance heading through the gates, the village didn't need a wall but apparently you was a threat. you almost felt honored they had been so wary of you they built a wall to keep you out. How thoughtful. You quickly walked to the old granary shack it was tiny but you'd been condemned to on the outside of the village. We wouldn't want the omega to seduce the villagers with her evil sinful ways now would we?.

You cringed remembering that day. You was eleven. Playing with the other children much like the ones in the market today and you began to feel unwell. The bakers son sven who you was sweet on, walked you home. That night you got the shivers your mother tried to help but the fever persisted and got progressively worse. By dawn you was moved to the healers cottage. You remembered how every breath was agony, the air was freezing in your heated lungs you truly thought you was dying as each breath was a struggle. Sitting by the fire you could still feel the pain, reliving it your bones ached and your head felt fuzzy then it happened it felt like you had been drowning your whole life everything muted and suddenly you was above the water hearing, smelling, seeing for the very first time. Terrified the village was convinced at first it was a curse, or maybe they hoped it was. You never really found out all you knew was that after the awakening came the cramps and your first bleed. The pain that sealed your fate was agonizing and nothing soothed it. You was an omega, it was a daunting realization. Omegas are a commodity around these parts either sold to an alpha to produce more alphas or sent to whore houses, but our village didn't have either and you had presented young a whore house probably wouldn't pay much, you didn't have tits yet.

The next option was killing you, an honor killing they said before you could disgrace your family with your depraved instincts. Your mother was against it, she was torn an omega was a bad omen believed to only present just before a disaster that would kill many the thought being the omega would repopulate and replace those lost and on the other hand you was her little girl, her youngest, miracle child who was born without breath yet somehow managed a cry after being declared dead. So at her insistence you was banished from the village, you could enter for commerce but nothing else, they couldn't risk you tainting them anymore then you had. you cringed as a cold wind swept through the shack planks were missing from the side and your hearth consisted of a small pit in the center of the space with rocks haphazardly strewn in a circle to try and avoid the place burning to the ground, a rug was your bed with a thread bare blanket for comfort. you survived on vegetables and berries, no one in town would sell you weapons for hunting they refused to waste the meat on you that was for there own.

Not you.

Luckily you had managed to dig through the soil with your hands and plant some of the seeds you had carefully picked from the food you was allowed to have. you watched as the sun began to fall below the walls casting a red glow above them. You wanted them to burn. It may be bad but you didnt care. Three days was all it took for you to become an animal to them. A child they had watched grow and flourish, was cast out without a second thought. You sighed poking at the fire adding a some tinder and curled up before the fire trying to preserve as much body heat as you could.

"Geralt are you sure this is the place? it looks to- well its not exactly high brow is it? i though witches like fancy places not back water villages" for once Jaskier wasn't spouting nonsense.

Geralt sighed looking up to the sky. it'd be snowing soon, he really should turn around and make his way back to Kaer Morhen for the winter. He glanced down from roach at the bard who was still trailing behind him. he found himself doing that more and more recently, checking the beta making sure he was still there. looking forward again as he contemplated what exactly that meant, witchers didn't have packs. Or at least they weren't supposed to but Geralt had found himself classing Jaskier as pack and now couldn't help but look out for the weaker male wanting him to remain close. he shook his head irritated tho he was a witcher he was also an alpha and that was something the mutations couldn't take. But it wasn't all bad he summarized, he didn't endure ruts and didn't fall prey to heats like other alphas that's not to say he didn't find omegas appealing, they were a good fuck responsive and fed his ego, called him alpha and let him do as he pleased well until they realized he couldn't knot them then things changed very quickly. They went from wanton bitches to spitting hellcats so fast that even he couldn't keep up. He glanced forward sitting straighter seeing their destination peak over the long stretch of tundra.

A village that had rumors off a witch casting dark magic across the village or that's what he had been told when he was asked to come, normally witches struck places that held valuable artifacts or rarities. The meager defenses of wooden stake walls and simple slat gate that he could probably scale with roach didn't suggest there was anything here of value.

"I'm sure bard, lets get this over. Its probably just a widow and nasty break out of fever" he grunted already thinking this as a waste. But the coin was good and if it meant he just had to place some protection runes to give them piece of mind he'd be a fool to pass it up. He began feeling funny as he closed in on the village noticing something off as small barely standing shack sat outside of the makeshift walls. A scent it was pleasant, very pleasant it didn't burn his nose like most did now. Rosemary, mint and something else he couldn't put a name to. It wasn't thick like most. Many scents felt thick and muggy to Geralt's witcher senses but this was free and wafting. He took a deep breath enjoying the scent more and more as he approached the shack wary it was different, too different from anything he had ever smelt ,even Jaskier seem to be inhaling deeper.

"What is that? oh it smells divine" he said without thinking the bard followed the scent. Geralt swore getting down from roach following the beta that was probably about to be caught up in some form of trouble. They both followed the scent until arriving at the door to the shack. He peered in. His heart stopped as the scent washed over him making him growl low. he took a dominant pose squaring his shoulders. Omega. But what the fuck was she doing out here?! she should be inside the walls not sleeping out her almost freezing to death!. He wasn't sure just where this immediate protectiveness came from but he was ready to slit the throats of who ever had allowed or forced the young female out here.

"Oh an omega." Jaskier said sadly almost sympathetically, he wasn't angry . Why wasn't he angry?. He should be omegas were rare. Rarer now then ever as attitudes had changed. But that was just it attitudes had changed. Omegas were no longer cherished as they should be, as they had been when Geralt was younger. the reality was that She was most likely abandoned. Geralt felt his rage shaking him to the core as he peered over the tiny malnourished omega she shivered in her sleep pulling her knees to her chest. His gaze took in the room. This was not a nest. No comforts for her, Nothing soft for her to sink into. Nothing to defend herself in her heats. Not even a proper fucking hearth. 'I will make her a nest. She will be safe'. He was disturbed by just how his thoughts turned he had never had this reaction to an omega before even when they were in the depths of heat pining fora male. Jaskier moved to her side about to stroke her face. With no control over it Geralt snarled and snapped at him fangs dropping.

"No!! OFF!MINE!" Jaskier slipped back nearly toppling over unprepared for the out burst as Geralt lunged forward at him. His .His omega. He heaved deep breaths watching Jaskier with predatory eyes. He was challenging him for the female. Jaskier shaking and completely frazzled only just managed to present his throat to the feral witcher, surrendering to his alpha. That seemed to pacify him as Geralt swung his cloak off draping it across the female smiling as she snuggled into it and her shivers ceased. he sat down heavy beside her casting axi on the dying fire bring new life and a burst of heat. after a few moments Jaskier slowly made his way to him and sat cautiously.

"G-Geralt what was that? is- you called her yours... I thought witchers didn't you know?" he was hesitant with his question. Geralt cast him a fleeting glance.

"We don't... Well not normally... Honestly we aren't taught about it just told that we are impotent and wont have ruts... But I suppose it could be like all mutations, they are all expected to do certain things but all mutations have varying results and mine are different anyway." he looked down at the content female by his side. His omega. Thats what his lesser had called her. And it wasn't a lack of judgment either. Once the words left him it had clicked , A soulmate just for him, A scent tailored to for him. That would be why she didn't smell like any other. A mate. A pack. He lifted a finger to her slowly running a knuckle across her slim cheek. She would never go hungry or cold again. Now that he found her he wouldn't let her go.

"Bed down for the night we will talk to the master of the village tomorrow." Jaskier nodded uneasy going to roach to retrieve the bed rolls.

You whimpered coming to you was warm. Oh my god yes. You groaned melting into the warmth that encased you feeling a large heavy fabric like a huge warm hug. And the fire before you was roaring hot on your face and the scent of meat filled the space. You wiggled a little pressing your face into the hot firm cushion below , must be a dream. You flinched as other scents followed two. Male. Both intoxicating one of herbs and something tangy and addictive the other was musky and sandalwood-no oak like an aged whisky barrel deep masculine and alpha. You tensed as you came to then frowned warm? no that's not right and the fire? that dies every night something was seriously wrong, you squeezed your eyes tight whimpering dreading opening your eyes in case you found yourself sold to a whore house. You fears grew when you felt a huge hand scratch your scalp lightly

"sshh its ok don't worry I've got you now" you opened your eyes there was a male in front of you sleeping soundly on a bed roll he was a beta you- you just knew soft kind features he looked healthy and you bet he had a glow when awake he was resting peacefully. So the one stroking your hair must have been the alpha. You gulped taking in your surroundings you was in your home still. They had broke in. You shivered getting hot ,sweat beaded across you as the scents swirled around you in a delicious overwhelming mix. Effecting you like a sorceress potion. You panted panicking lifting your hands to the hand in your hair pulling expecting resistance but instead he let you remove his hand.

He sighed shushing you again a deep voice that vibrated through you. A large warm hand landed on your shoulder rolling you to your back. It was then you realized that he was sitting cross legged you'd been using his thigh as a pillow. You looked up gasping as you met two amber irises long silver hair fell framing his angular face slight stubble donned his face making him even more handsome. You wanted to panic. Should have panicked but you instead had this overwhelming urge to bury yourself into his chest. To drink in as much of his scent as you could. You whined crying softly as the heat that had begun to race through your body became a scorching fire. Torrents of boiling and uncontrollable lust flooded your body leaking onto your skirts. This mus be it. The disgusting shameful desires of omegas you was spat at for. You'd had heats but never this way. It was coming fast and merciless, you watched as the alphas nostrils flared he released a slow breath.

"No wh-what hahahah i cant - What have you done!?" you panicked as your body was bending to his will and you didnt understand why. had the village done this? sent him to seduce you? or have they done what they always threatened and sold you to an alpha?. you cried out thrashing hitting him.

"no wh-what hahahah I cant Wha-what have you done!?" you panicked as your body was bending to his will and you didn't understand why. Had the village done this? sent him to seduce you? or have they done what they always threatened and sold you to an alpha?. You cried out thrashing hitting him.

He wouldn't allow you of his lap instead lifting you into it. Your bottom on the floor knees bent over one leg back resting on the other.

"Its ok.....Its ok omega... I'm your mate, your true alpha your body is responding it want's to mate... wants to bond" your cries must have woke the other male as you both looked to a new voice.

"Ge-GERALT! What are you doing to the poor thing?!?" he called moving to remove you from him. The alpha, Grealt growled as he went to touch you.

"Fuck off Jaskier I'm trying to help her, I've sent her into a proper heat!" Jaskier stopped scenting the air before going pink embarrassed.

"Well she looks terrified! you should explain to her, i doubt they teach omegas here especially considering she is out here not in there" Jaskier gave a small smile.

"Do you know what you are love? Whats happening?" you nodded then shook your head sobbing yelping as another cramp, worse this time longer tighter and lower.

"I'm a harlot, bad" was all you could get out as you fell into your more basic state not capable of coherent thought. Geralt growled at that then crowded you holding you close wanting to sooth you.

"No...No your not bad.... Your good such a goood girl... It hurts I can make it stop...Please let me make it stop it will keep getting worse until I do please..." he kissed your face cradling you into him his need to help his mate was almost to much but he would not touch you if you refused him. Unlike other males he did not use instincts as an excuse for such things. Jaskier watched unsure of what to do, he didn't doubt his alpha for a second but this female was young uninformed she was fragile and frightened and he suspected that she didn't know much about what she was or what was to come. She cried grasping at Geralt

"H-how?... I-help please make it stop its bad..... Really bad" you pleaded weakly with him. unable to move as your body quivered in pain as it felt like one continuous cramp. The alpha called his beta over ordering him to help rid of her clothes, he would stay and help. Jaskier gaped, alpha's generally didn't let anyone else near omegas in heat but it would seem his alpha was different on many levels. Quickly recovering you felt hands pulling and tugging the sticky dress from your body discarding it quickly you created as your slick made your cooled your heated skin you felt dirty, shameful. Wailing trying to cover yourself from them as Geralt quickly striped himself cock relieved as it sprung up tall and proud. He wont waste time pushing Jaskier before her as he moved her into position she was to far gone to try and protest as she was bent over on hands and knees then GeraLt pressed between her shoulders angling her for him. He wont bite not today. No he would get her threw this and then when she was back down to earth he would talk to her. Or at least that is the plan.

"Jaskier help her stay calm and still." he ground out watching with bright eyes as Jaskier crouched by you head letting you reach out to him clutching as his hands scared not sure what was happening as Geralt poised himself then quickly drove forward sheathing enough to quickly break threw the barrier that he knew was just inside wanting it out of the way as soon as possible.

"AAAHH! NO I-STOP!" you scrambled tying to dislodge him constricting your walls to push him out whimpering as he held firm holding the same position, his hot calloused hands cupped your waist holding you still not allowing you to move an inch from him when you bucked forward and he followed. You leaned so far that your knee slipped and Geralt had to catch it before you fell ripping him out of you. He growled

"Jaskier fucking help her!" he grunted still tucking his chin to his chest trying desperately to refrain from moving for your sake the worst was over. The beta quickly cupped your face wiping the tears away reassuring your quaking form.

"shh shh its ok the worst is over now... good girl I know he's a grump isn't he but its fine...... so good" he winced as you cried pitifully he knew you would be soothed in a moment but it was gut wrenching for him to endure try and temper your cries. Slowly Geralt began pushing forward dragging you back on him impaling you as gently as he could. You keened as you stretched to accommodate his lust, so full and taught almost felt as if you was tearing apart at the seams. Grunting lightly as your passage rippled across him he groaned moving a hand across your back rubbing soothingly.

"Yes that's it relax...... OH FUCK.. Yes that's it so precious..... See it feels better now doesn't it? all that fuss you made" you tried nodding it did feel better almost as if you'd applied a healing balm to your insides. You moaned digging your nails into Jaskier's hands. panting as Geralt's hips finally pressed into yours his balls resting on your little bud making you squeak and try to rub back against him trying to grind up into the light taps they delivered.

"Ha-oh is that it?... You like that?.......All you needed?.... Good girl all there now" his praise made you glow he rocked slowly , just enough to reward you with soft pats from his balls against your clit. You gasped trying to buck against him.

"AH! Please-Alpha PLease I want!" you panted forcing the words

"Oh I know what you want... you want to be bred like the good little bitch you are" his words were filthy derogatory and perfect, Jaskier watched wide eyed as Geralt placed a hand below you rolling the pad his finger against your erect bud . Gulping Jaskeir closed his eyes, face on the rug beside you drinking in your moans and pants that went straight to his own cock, he moaned softly a hand sneaking to his bottoms cupping and rubbing, smoothing his digits around the engorged flesh. His eyes popped open glazed and hazy as you moved a hand to his crotch slim and dainty holding him through the fabric. You cried out as Geralt withdrew and pushed back forcing your body to give way to him.

"Don't you .....omega you want to be bred? full and round..... your so fucking ready for pups aren't you?" he grunted as his pace quickly escalated as he lost himself faster than he ever had. His own words revealing his own darkest desire. A pup of his own. Watching his mate swell with proof of there coupling. Yes. He closed his eyes relishing in the impossible image. You screeched holding Jaskier's thigh moaning and crying your pleasure all the way. Your walls fought him at every plunge of his hard flesh, resisting his punishing deep thrusts as he kissed at your cervix yet at the same time clutching at him trying to take as much as it could, muscles trying to capture him properly as nature intended but at the same time clenching to push him out. It was cruel and delicious Jaskier couldn't help it you look to appetizing he leaned down licking into your open mouth coaxing your hand down into his bottoms you clutched him underneath his palm as he began making you stroke him in fast even strokes he groaned loud a beautiful high sound that, to Geralt was much better then his singing. Grunting, Geralt's fingers pried and pinched your clit and flicked the tip of the swollen bud that peaked from between his tight fingers you screamed squeezing Jaskier he faltered as your hand was ripped off him. Geralt was powerless as his fantasy became to much of a temptation making a snap decision, as he saw Jaskier on the floor beside you crying and panting himself trying to fuck into your hand faster and harder.

"Jaskier here now!" Geralt couldn't stop he needed it. Needed to see it, to feel the kick of pups in the telltale bump of his omega. He longed for the soft heart beat's he had heard enviously in the past. He relished in the glow that all omegas had when full with a litter. He wanted that happiness for his omega. He would give that to her one way or another. Jaskier was confused but obey rounding the rutting couple unsteady. He was caught off guard as Geralt pulled him to rest his forehead to his still pulling and pushing into the small wailing female. The alpha kissed him not deep or lewd a chaste kiss and pulled back holding the smaller male's gaze.

"wh-what? I cant do that?" Geralt growled as he felt his end coming trying to fight it until this was sorted.

"YOU! have a cock don't you?!? do it bard SHE needs it!" you moaned not hearing much of anything as you tucked your hands beneath yourself rocking quicker and quicker chasing something needing more.

"PLEAASE! please pleaspleas I-I dont know wha-I need please alpha!!" you brawled scratching and digging at the rug. Jaskier looked between you and his alpha the desperation that you both leaked was to much, he bit his lip then nodded. Relieved Geralt finally let loose roaring his release spraying his useless load into you the force hitting your cervix grunting low as you came at the sensation, howling into the floor below. panting Geralt sat back on his heels grabbing Jaskier by the scruff sitting his ass on his thighs ignoring the bards protests as he shucked his trousers down and gripped his cock using his scruff to raise him into position

"I-I cant do it-ger-GERALT!" he shouted gasping as geralt lined him up with your entrance the witcher thrust his pelvis forward forcing the beta into your quivering heat. You squealed as your sensitive walls caressed a new cock, although not as large it was still an addictive feeling you lowered back down pressing your chest to your makeshift bed pebbled nipples rubbing skimming the rough fabric as they swayed with each rock of your body.

"AH-OOHH! please yesyesyes... please fill me!" you withered below the new male as Geralt was on his knees behind Jaskier still holding the bard by his neck.

"Don't worry love..... You'll be full soon enough...Well you better be..." Geralt threatened as Jaskier took over holding you and rocked into you grunting quietly trying so hard not to think of the alpha watching as his cock disappeared into you. You cried as you felt a familiar hand return to play with your tender clit your body spasmed violently finding a second release with a loud high pitched cry. Geralt held Jaskier up not allowing him the chance to bite a mark into you at the same time he ground his pelvis to the his ass pining him still and deep as your twitching passage milked him with a loud series of grunts he came into you not as powerfully as Geralt but still spurting pleasantly tickling your insides.

"Jaskier deeper- I want her bred" Geralt stated noticing that as the bard finished he had arched removing an inch of so as he did. Sighing as Jaskier was to lost moaning and rocking he rolled his eyes at the beta. Omegas were the best fucks and this was most likely the last time he would fuck you he would want to make the most on of it. Geralt hooked an arm below your hips tugging you back you cried as you was forced still and tight against them. Jaskier still leaking small streams of cum this time you felt it at your true opening wetting and burning as his seed trickled past it. you cried.

"oh-OH fuck its- done yes fuck I-hot its hot" you babbled trying to raise up stopping as you heard a growl

"No stay there let it keep going... Good girl.... I'm so proud.... Cant wait to see you round with them....Fuck yes you'll be so good" Jaskier stayed still awkwardly clamped between the tow of you. Amazingly enough feeling like the third wheel even if it was him pumping you full. geralt slid back patting jaskiers rump

"Stay... I'll be back" then left Jaskier blinked smoothing his hand across your back.

"you ok down there?" you nodded sleepy folding your hands below your head content and ready for sleep. Geralt returned carrying a pack then dragged the bard off you dropping to the floor legs spread placing you between them his inner thigh against your pussy pressing tight trapping everything inside you leaning you back cradling you he tugged a black shirt of his from the pack sliding it across your arms and buttoning it up. Jaskier sighed pulling up his trousers

"dont bother with them you'll need to give her another load soon." Jaskier sputtered

"I'm sorry? what?"

"Beta or not if your going to breed my omega you'll breed her like an alpha, now drop em" Geralt said seriously as he reached over to the almost forgotton meat tearing small chunks bringing it to your lips. You took the bites happily still lost in your haze.

"I'm sorry Geralt I'm not an alpha I cant just pop one off on demand"

"Not with that attitude you wont, sit eat your going to need it breeding is serious business" the bard was speechless then huffed throwing the trousers to the floor he wasn't going to win so whats the use, taking a seat by you both helping himself to the meat deciding that he should fuel up if this was going to last for a whole heat. Secretly excited about the prospects of the new addition to the small pack and pups.

You sat there thrilled some primal part of you understanding that your alpha was tending to you, Feeding and providing for you and had called the other pack member to eat with you. You took several bites before turning away from his hand. He tutted.

"No you need your strength, come on open up we need you big and strong for the pups." you contemplated the words agreeing as you let him continue to feed you. Jaskier just stared watching Geralt drop all walls for the first time. He looked happy. Truely happy. There was a slight worry for the future but he brushed it away choosing to bask in the glow of the newly formed couple.

#geralt smut #geralt imagine #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt x jaskier x reader #witcher fanfiction #witcher smut #geralt x reader

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silvercrystalwhump · 4 years ago

Text

Their Not so Different Are They?

Here’s some during the time when Vince and Dmitri were just friends

Vincent Shield belongs to @ashintheairlikesnow

TW: references to sex, implied dubcon (being drunk), alcohol reference,

The warm embrace of drowning ichor.

It’s been awhile!

Lights dancing against air

Can you keep a secret?

The way hands brush against skin.

Just for tonight, got it?

Ice cold breath.

You’re absolutely gorgeous.

Poison across sheets.

You’re just perfect.

Boney, empty void.

Vincent wakes up, eyes ripping open to meet the pale tiles of a ceiling. A fan spins above him. Like an omen, it looms over him. His fingers wrap around the fibers of the bed spread. Slowly, he sits up, eyes focusing around the mirror across the room.

He’s in a hotel room.

Why am I in a hotel?

He rubs his temples and leans forward. Vincent, trying to pull together a story around him, glances to his left. The covers of the blankets were tossed off to the side.

Shit.

Vincent looks down at himself, piercing his lips. He is starkly naked.

Fuck.

Vincent glances down at the floor and sees most of yesterday's clothes scattered across the floor. He feels a wave of unease cross over him.

Why the fuck do I even so this?

He throws his legs over the side and scoops up some of his clothes. Vincent can smell the reek of alcohol, regret and something else. Pretending to ignore his mistakes, Vincent throws the clothes on as if this was a normal morning.

No one is in the room with him.

Vincent peeks just about everywhere as he bottoms up his shirt. He's tired, the kind of tired that makes you weary rather than drowsy. Everything feels slightly out of reach, his fingertips too sensitive.

He finds his phone tossed onto the small couch. Vincent sighs and plops down, grabbing his phone, and pulling up his messages.

Vincent rolls through the handful of messages he sent during his haze the night prior and one stands out.

Don't worry about picking me up, I'll have a ride in the morning.

Vincent puts his head back in his hands, dread blooming in his chest.

Looking across the hotel room, he tries to find any clue as to who he decided in his drunken stupor to sleep with. The faint ghosting of hands trailing down his spine forces him to pause ever so often.

Nothing.

The only sign being the discarded bed sheets and the soreness in his gut.

He collapses against a wall and lets himself slide to the floor. A hangover to trump all Hangovers eats as his temples.

Then his phone pings next to him.

Wanna hear something funny?

The text is from Dmitri, which is both a relief and a jab to the gut.

Sure, Vincent responds, rubbing his temples.

Have you ever seen someone fall into four dozen Boston Cream donuts before?

No.

Well yesterday night some guy, drunk off his ass, came in and demanded four dozen Boston cream donuts. He takes them and gets three steps from the door before stumbling over and falling on his donuts. There was just cream EVERYWHERE. Had to help Yasmin scrub it off. Hilarious in hindsight thou.

Vincent tisks at the mental image, cream filling covering tiles and windows. He remembers walking into Yasmin’s bakery before with Dmitri. The place smelled of warm honey.

Staring at his phone scream, he slowly types out a message. His finger hesitates over the send button. He, slowly and tentatively, presses down and the soft ping nearly sends him up a wall.

Can you do me a favor?

Vincent stares blankly down at the phone screen. Anxiety eats at his already pounding skull. His body, a quivering leaf in a hurricane of regret, feels cold even through the heater next to him.

Sure whats up

Can you pick me up?

Vincent’s mouth dries.

…

Sure. Where are you?

Before Vincent realizes it, he’s sliding into the passenger seat of Dmitri’s truck. Looking like an absolute mess of a human, he lets himself sink into the chair.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Vincent says as he messes with his pants. The slacks are so wrinkled that the place where he digs in his nails changes nothing. He can feel the fabric crinkle under his fingers, knowing how much Marie is going to have him for ruined pants.

Especially these ones, they were not cheap.

“I know,” Dmitri responds as his eyes twitch between street signs, “But I wanted to.” Something about how nonchalant Dmitri seems and how disheveled Vincent just feels off. Nobody Vincent knew would be this… uncaring for appearances. Yet, Dmitri, in an almost invisible way, takes no notice.

Vincent leans back, the muscles in his shoulder twisting into coils. He tries to fade into the soft music barely playing through the speakers. “You didn’t---” “You want some coffee?” Dmitri interrupts, as he pulls into an exit.

“You don’t have to get me anything.”

Dmitri blinks as he turns the car into a drive-through, “I know but do you want coffee?”

Vincent pauses, “I- Yeah but I’ll pay.” Vincent reaches for his wallet, vision blurring with every sudden movement.

Dmitri reaches out and stops his hand. He gives him a soft smile and shakes his head, “My treat.”

“I shouldn’t-”

Dmitri pulls into the drive-through and chuckles, “Nope, too late, I’m paying.”

Vincent tries to open his mouth but Dmitri is already ordering. He finds himself sitting tentatively under his own skin as they get coffee. He prayed silently that the cashier does not recognize him, or anyone outside of Dmitri’s truck.

I really don't want to be seen.

Vincent feels himself coil back behind his eyes again. The weight of air on his skin is just too much to bear. Each roll of the air conditioning across his skin feels too much like breath. Everything, even the hair rising on the back of his neck, just adds to the couplings of soft teeth barely grazing his mind.

Then, the air conditioning stops.

“If you were cold you could’ve just asked to turn the AC down,” Dmitri says, ripping Vincent from the flood of sensations.

“I wasn’t cold,” Vincent responds, noticing the coffee sitting in the cup holder next to him. He takes it and brings the cup to his lips, the smell of hazelnut letting him anchor.

Dmitri raises an eyebrow, “You kinda shut off and started shivering.”

Vincent looks up and blinks. They are in a completely different place, driving through winding hills in the middle of nowhere. “No no I’m just a bit hungover.”

“Oh,” Dmitri chirps as he leans back and grabs something from the seat behind Vincent, “Here, drink this.” He hands Vincent a Gatorade and returns to driving, “I have just water if you don’t do gatorade.”

“Why gatorade?”

Dmitri shrugs, “Hangovers are caused by dehydration, the brain doesn’t have enough water and usually other things too so if you drink a lot of liquids the hangover fades faster.”

Vincent reluctantly takes it and opens the cap, “You keep this stuff in your car?”

“Yeah, Samantha, one of my employees, sometimes comes in hungover so I give her one when she needs it. It kinda became a habit so I just keep them in my car. She’s a good kid so I try not to harp her too much about it,” Dmitri says as he drinks his own coffee.

After taking a sip, Vincent realizes actually how thirsty he is.

I haven’t drunk anything other than liquor since yesterday morning… and that was coffee.

“Have you ever gotten so drunk you only remember flashes of what you did the night before?” Vincent asks as he drinks all of the Gatorade.

Dmitri nods, “I did that alot in my twenties, losing yourself in the lights and all that. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve woken up in either a field, a motel 6, or in the ice box.”

Vincent looks down at the now empty bottle of Gatorade, I drank all of that? He places the bottle at his feet and makes a mental note to throw it out when he gets home. A part of him burns slightly with soured memories of liquor, scotch cologne, and envy. He rests his head back on the chair and lets out a sigh.

His thoughts, taking the wheel of his lips, just spill from his lips, “I really shouldn’t be doing shit like this, since now I have to go off of foggy memories of who I even went back there with.” Vince you’re rambling. “I don’t even remember this guy's name.” Vince, shut up. “And I wake up the next morning, knowing that I slept with him.” Shut the fuck up Vincent! “He’s not even there in the morning too, and now I have to figure out who i have to get to keep his mouth shut about me being gay and I just-”

Great, fucking great Vincent Shield, you’ve dug this grave. Now die in it.

Vincent pales, vision whitening around the edges, “I should've said that- I should’ve please don’t tell anyone. I’ll pay you but please---”

“Vee,” Dmitri says calmly, “I get it, your secrets safe with me. I remember when I was far back in the closet.”

“Wait you’re-”

“Gay, yup. I know I don’t exactly scream fruity but I am.”

Vincent feels himself relax just enough to breathe, “I- thank you, I can’t say how-”

“I get it,” Dmitri reassures, “I’ve accidentally outed myself before too. I did it to my Dad. I know the feeling and I would make a peep.”

Vincent crumples under the weight of his words. Like a cord snapping back, the whiplash of emotions feels like a beheading. “Thank you.”

Silence floods the truck. It gnaws at the ends of Vincent's fingers until they go numb. Vincent shakily reaches out and takes the coffee cup. Hoping the heat loosens the sinue of his fingers.

“So am I just dropping you off at your house or…”

“Yeah yeah, at my house.”

#forgotten to found #dmitri o'brian #vincent shield #dubcon tw #implied dubcon tw #sex mention tw #alcohol tw #vincent makes dumb decisions vol 5

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sideblogformindtrash · 4 years ago

Text

CW: Deshumanization; Mentions of past abuse/burns; sort-of self harm; conditioning; its mostly just comfort tho;

There is a shape in the horizon, towering over the trees and the city, spreading an omen of fire. He doesn’t know how to define it, the angles are weird and twisted like nothing that should exist on this world. Every color outside is slightly misplaced too, it seems. That he doesn’t know the meaning off.

Death. The darkness echoes… It has been unusually quiet, today.

Faint scribbling noises behind him… But those are part of reality. It’s Haru sitting somewhere on the room. He is always following him around when Orfeu is home. Always so close… yet miles away. But he doesn’t want to look Haru right now, because as soon as he break eye contact, the figure on the horizon will be gone and the world will go back to normal, burying those secrets forever.

Absent-mindedly, he lit up a cigarette, letting the smoke dwindle around him, assuming fantasy colors, mixing with the unruly shapes of the eldritch monster in the distance.

Then, at the corner of his eye, he notices small hands, forming a cup. The scribbling has stopped. He wants… he wants to keep following the Omen… but in the end, Haru is more important to him than any celestial meaning that creature could hold.

He turns to face the boy. He has his face down, whimpering, hidden behind a wall of hair. Hands are shaking a bit as he struggles to keep them still. He left the notebook behind, by the foot of the bed, never a good sign.

“What is wrong dear?”

He touches Haru’s hand. He shivers a bit… then slowly looks up. Orfeu falls on one knee, pulling his hands closer, as he notices the small, round scars.

Oh. So that was it. He counted down from ten on his mind, to calm down. He would end up killing Farlan one of these days.

“Did that pig Gerald calls a son did those?”

Haru just whimpered again. Did he even know those people’s names? Probably not. He only ever mentioned them as ‘Grand Master’, ‘Young Master’ or some other bullshit title.

“…I won’t hurt you darling. This is just… Cruel”

Haru pushes his hands closer, still forming a cup, offering them to be burned, so desperate to please. …How could he help him now? He sighed, still a bit lost on his thoughts, thinking just how he can show Haru that… well that this is wrong. He wished he was better at this.

Orfeu pulls his sleeve up… And puts the cigar out on his own arm. Haru’s eyes widened. He pulled his hands back, to cover his mouth.

Haru scrambles away, looking for the notebook he left behind. He knees, forehead so close to the page it almost touches it, he barely seems to notice what he is even writing. He furiously scribbles it over and over.

Orfeu peaks closer to see what it is although he has a good idea of what it might be.

‘Sorry sorry so sorry master pet is useless pet *unreadable* is bad Master is hurt because of pet *scribbled out* didn’t to its job your slave is bad is so sorry sorry so-

He waits. He thinks maybe he should stop the boy, since he is so scared but… Haven’t him been silenced enough already?

Haru scribbled that page away too, tore it out, threw it away under the bed. He stares blankly at the next one for a moment… Returned to his scribbling. Orfeu waits, patiently.

And in the end, he put up a page that was almost completely full of erasures. Nothing readable… Except for:

‘Why’

Orfeu smiles. Good. Questioning is good.

“Well… To see how it felt. I won’t do to you something I wouldn’t like having done to me.” Orfeu scratches his arm, slowly nailing at the wound mark “… I didn’t like this. Just so we are clear here... Being hurt is not very fun. So I will never do this to you.”

Haru stared at him… Such big, pleading eyes… Searching for meaning. Scribbles.

‘Master is different, Master is *erasure* a person. I’m It is just a pet slave, pet can be hurt. Master can’t.’

And yet, they were the same. If they were any different… It would mean that Orfeu is a Monster, not that Haru was anything but human.

Freak. Demon.

He smiles at Haru, the poor thing so, so scared… He pets his head. Just the top of the head, that was fine, he quite liked that, it was the rest of the hair that made him scared. He seemed to relax a bit, leaning into his hand.

“There is nothing different about my pain and yours, okay? The people that told you there is would change their minds very quickly if they were in your place” he slowly tapped his arm over the little tiny burn “…They don’t know how it feels. They don’t get to tell you if it’s acceptable or not”

Scribbling.

‘Punishment is good for pets so they learn to be good. Makes good behaved slaves. This pet wants to be good for Master. Masters can’t be hurt, punishment is for pets.’

He puts the notebook down on his knees. His hands are shaking… So Orfeu gets them between his own, a sad smile. He shivers a little, but does not pull always.

“…It could have been me, on your place. Or your other masters. Even your trainers. And they would learn to be ‘good’ if they suffered the same conditioning you did. It’s designed to work that way, on anyone. It’s not fair just because it’s on you.”

It could have been me. He looks back into those poor little blue eyes, so scared confused and lost. Orfeu wonders if he could have ended up like that too, if he had made a few different choices. He had been dangerously close to it.

They told him, too, that they could make him good.

But he never knew what being good even meant.

And the darkness told him that it would mean his doom.

Haru whimpers, squeezing his hand tight, trying to wrap meaning around those words, so lost. Maybe he had pushed things too far. Haru would be happy if he had just caressed his head and told him he didn’t want Haru to do that task, but he was good for offering.

But Orfeu didn’t want Haru to be happy that he was a good pet and had suuuuuch a kind master. He wanted Haru to be angry. He wanted Haru to look back at what happened… And know it was unfair. That he didn’t have to be a good pet… Hell not even a pet at all. Not anymore.

…But… Maybe Haru never would. Maybe all he would ever need was to feel safe. And Orfeu wanted to give that to him too, as much as he could. Those eyes were sad and scared, and seeing him so small and lost broke his heart. He smiled, trying to comfort him.

“This was too much for you right now, wasn’t it? It’s okay… I’m sorry” he cleans a tear falling through the boy’s freckled cheeks. There were days where it was easier to get though him. There were days where it was a challenge… There were days where it was best to not try at all. “You are good. You truly are. Not just for the reasons you think you are… But on things that really matter. I admire your strength. I don’t think you can see it yet, but you will someday. I’m glad you are here with me.”

He gets up, and offers to help Haru stand up too, seeing as he still shivers so much.

“Come, are you hungry? We should make some coffee for us. ”

Haru perked up at this. Snack times where usually fun. They could make a cake too, and maybe that would make Haru feel better.

He just glanced back at the window before leaving. The world had returned to normal. The Omen left before he could figure what it meant.

tagging: @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone @whump-me-all-night-long

#oc whump #orfeu and haru #whump writing #im so tired #like Im always but its getting so much worse #not sure if meds or hormones or wathever #but it always just feels so dizzy like the whole world is a dream #all of this to say this mgiht be messier than usuaul #haru be like: me sad :C #Orfeu: oh dat sucs lets overthrown the goverment nvm the eldritch horror :)

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generallynerdy · 5 years ago

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Weird Friends (Crowley & Angel!Reader)

Summary: Aziraphale has weird friends.

Requested by & Anon: It'd be really cute if you could write a platonic Crowley x angel! Reader where she looks like a child, despite being just as old as Aziraphale or Gabriel! Like, she comes to see Aziraphale after Armageddon doesn't happen and Crowley has to deal with this small child with serious wisdom who shows up asking to speak with Aziraphale? Thank you if you can! Love your blog (and you)!!

Key: (Y/N) - your name Warnings: cursing in the author’s note so sue me, slightly OOC probably it’s been a while since i watched good omens so i just kind of made Crowley a snakey david tennant because that’s all i remember of his vibes other than a violently homosexual genderfluid wacko whom i love Word Count: 710

Note: me, writing three requests in one day??? Bitch who knew???? Not me that’s for sure!!! I really liked this request, but it didn’t feel like I needed to stretch it out, so this one’s a little short. Hope you like it!! (it’s a little off from the request in that aziraphale already knows she’s here? Hope that’s okay) Also Crowley and Aziraphale both use he/him in this!

Crowley was accustomed to weird things. His whole 6,000 year life was a weird thing. He was a demon and his best friend, Aziraphale, was an angel. Look up the definition of weird and you would literally find a picture of him!

(Well, only in a certain edition. It’s in Aziraphale’s bookstore.)

Aziraphale’s store was the epitome of weird. A store that didn’t want to sell you things? A store owner who owned a massive red and black snake? Very weird.

For Crowley, it was comfort. It was escape.

He wandered there whenever he needed it, sometimes when he wanted it. Aziraphale didn’t mind. In fact, he loved it. They were best friends, after all, and they loved each others’ company. Today was a day that Crowley needed his best friend.

“Angel?” He called out, creaking open the front door.

Only silence replied.

“Angel?”

A quiet voice from his left replied. “Yes?”

He whirled on his heel, expecting to see Aziraphale. Instead of his best friend, a little girl sat on the floor, legs crossed as her head was buried in a book. She looked up as she answered his call.

“Er, sorry, looking for the owner,” Crowley muttered quickly.

“Oh. You must be Crowley,” the child said.

Her voice was...odd. She sounded wise beyond her years, as if an old woman was trapped in a girl’s body. She simply didn’t speak the way Crowley knew children did.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Who are you? Where’s Aziraphale?”

“He’s making tea,” she replied.

She went to stand, abandoning her book on the floor. Approaching Crowley, the girl held out her hand for him to shake. “I’m (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” He mumbled. “Sounds familiar.”

“I hope Aziraphale has mentioned me,” she noted. “I have known him for many thousand years, after all.”

The demon frowned. “You have?”

Then, it hit him. She had replied when he called ‘angel.’

“You’re an angel,” he hissed, suddenly backing away.

“Yes, I am. Do not be afraid,” (Y/N) said quickly, unintentionally quoting the Holy Book. “I am a friend of Aziraphale’s. He has confided in me of your friendship.”

He paused, staring right through her and gawking. “Y-- huh?”

Instead of words, a string of Crowley’s signature, incoherent nonsense came out.

*Then, he pulled himself together and spoke once more. “And why does an angel care about anything we do? You know, jus-- just after the whole Armageddon-that-wasn’t thing, they usually leave us alone.”

“Unlike them, I am not afraid of you,” she said, giving a small smile. “Humanity has always been intriguing to me, but I was never allowed...downstairs, so to speak.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A sheltered angel? Nooooo.”

Crowley almost jumped out of his skin when she snorted, a very un-angelic noise. “When Armageddon was halted, I reached out to Aziraphale. He offered to let me stay here so I can learn about humans. He mentioned that you might be able to help.”

“Oh, uh…” he made an odd motion with his tongue, snakelike in nature. “Guess so. What d’you want to know?”

She paused, then shrugged. “What makes human...human, I think.”

(Y/N) was weird, Crowley decided. She was very weird. But what was sad was that she was normal for an angel. This ignorance, this complete absence of anything human was a perfect representation of the celestial population. Well. Something was going to have to change, Crowley thought, if she was going to stay.

“Ah, yeah,” he said conversationally, clearing his throat, “you’d better start with the food, then. ‘Ziraphale loves it. Music, too, that’s a good thing. You ever heard of Queen?”

(Y/N)’s raised eyebrow was almost hilarious, coming from a child’s face. “The monarch?”

He snickered. “You’ve got a long way to go, angel.”

Aziraphale came back with tea a few minutes later, pleasantly surprised to find his partner and his friend chattering excitedly over an armful of vinyl records. He smiled to himself. This, he thought, was exactly what (Y/N) needed to enjoy humanity. A little oddity. A little...demonic advice.

“You have weird friends, Aziraphale,” Crowley told him later.

“You are one of my weird friends, dear boy,” Aziraphale would tease. “Besides, a little ‘weird’ never hurt anyone.”

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

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