#and there's a lot worse things out there than partying forever in the next life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

supernovafics · 11 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k words

summary: in which a moment at a party that led to a drunken kiss and a heartfelt admission pushes you and your best friend away from each other. after nearly a week of silence, it’s still hard to find the right words to say to steve and to find the right way to mend what feels as if it has been permanently broken. until you’re drunk at a bar and he is the one to come and get you.

warnings: bestfriend!steve, explicit language, underage alcohol consumption, angst with a happy ending<33

author’s note: this was sitting in the drafts for a veryvery long time and i’ve finally decided to let it see the light of day🫶🏾 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bar was comforting in a weird kind of way.

It was pretty dark and empty for the most part, which partly made sense since it was ten o’clock on a random Wednesday night. You didn’t mind the music softly playing and the stool you were sitting on actually felt comfortable, or maybe it was the alcohol making you believe that.

Somehow even with the number of drinks you’d had in the past hour, it still didn’t manage to effectively push your thoughts far away from Steve and what happened at Robin’s birthday party.

You couldn’t not think about the kiss with him, which you had abruptly and drunkenly initiated; it was a kiss that felt simultaneously wrong and right. And his words that followed the kiss played on what felt like an endless loop in your mind too.

“I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted us, for practically forever. Ever since that moment our mom’s forced us to meet at that county fair thing when we were ten, I think I knew it was you.”

It was hard to think about what you did in response to that, but still the quick, “I’m sorry, I can’t,” you managed to stutter out before basically running away from him played on equal loop in your head.

The two of you hadn’t spoken since that Saturday night, with you returning back to your college that was two hours away from Hawkins early the next morning. And you were unsure if it was you leading this dance or if both of you were equally avoiding each other because the phone calls that would happen practically daily were reduced to nothing. It had barely been a week, but it was long enough for everything in your life to feel shifted; to feel a little emptier.

“You look like you need to talk to someone,” The bartender, a woman who you were certain couldn’t be older than thirty, said as she slid you the latest drink you’d ordered.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just…” You trailed off with a small sigh before taking a sip from the cold glass. “I did something stupid this past weekend and I regret it, but I also think it might have been the right thing to do.” You were unsure if you were referring to the kissing Steve part or the running away from him part. “I don’t know, I just wish that entire night hadn’t happened, actually.”

You knew that it wasn’t solely your inebriation that made your words seem as if they didn’t make any sense, because everything going through your head was so damn confusing even when you were completely sober. None of it, the emotions you were feeling or the situation itself, fully made sense to you and you forced yourself to not think about any of it by solely consuming yourself with your schoolwork for the last few days. And when doing that was no longer enough to silence your thoughts, you decided to come to this bar.

It was dumb and probably only making things worse, you knew that, but it also felt so much easier.

“Okay,” The woman said. “Can I have a lot more context?”

You were unsure why you had the immediate urge to tell her everything. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps because it was just always so easy for anyone to pour their heart out to a stranger.

“My friend— my best friend, we’ve known each other since we were ten— me and him were at a party. It was actually our other friend’s birthday and she just turned eighteen, so of course, we had to make it a huge thing for her, and we did it at Steve’s house; my best friend, that’s his name. Anyway, it’s about two hours into the party and we’re all pretty drunk. Me and Steve are in his backyard sitting on one of his old patio chairs, and then I don’t know why, I blame it on my drunkenness and how close we were in that moment, but I kissed him. I pulled away almost immediately, but then he said that he has wanted this, wanted us, to happen for so long, and I didn’t know what to say to any of that. So, I just mumbled out a stupid “I’m sorry,” and then left.”

You had barely taken a breath as you spoke, spitting out what happened that night in one rushed go. Finally saying all of it out loud— recounting the story in pretty much its entirety— made you feel a little better. Everything was still a complete mess, but you felt like you could breathe the tiniest bit easier.

“Why did you leave?”

A part of you expected her to ask that question, and at this point, you should’ve had an answer to it that felt certain, but you didn’t.

“It just… It felt like the right thing to do, I think.”

The thought of anything more happening with Steve hadn’t ever crossed your mind, at least not consciously, and even now you still refused to think more about it. Because it wasn't just about Steve. You didn’t want anything more with anyone; you didn’t want feelings, a relationship, any of it.

It wasn’t that you hated love or the thought of it, it was more so that you had been burned because of it so many times that you refused to fall into it so easily again. Falling for boys that you thought actually liked you only to be proven wrong and left heartbroken.

“I get it,” The bartender ultimately said, her voice soft. “You guys have been friends for practically forever and if you started dating and then broke up it would probably change everything between you two.”

We would never break up.

The thought hit you so abruptly that it actually managed to surprise you.

The woman looked at you, confused. “Okay… So, then what’s the problem?”

“What?”

“You said that you and him would never break up, so what’s the problem?”

You hadn’t realized you said the thought out loud, and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about accidentally saying it because all you could think about was how completely true it was. You and Steve would work so well together, you pretty much already did. You knew the ins and outs of each other; everything little that was annoying but also so endearing. It was what you loved about him— as a friend and as more.

But still, it was so fucking hard to admit that out loud, and you wanted to forget about the entire realization.

“I– I don’t know,” You finally answered before folding your arms against the countertop and then putting your head down. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that that action would be enough to will away the tears that you could now feel threatening to spill out.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and i ended up here. pouring out my heart to a stranger.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, you okay?”

The voice was soft and immediately comforting and oh so familiar. It was enough to put a smile on your face, but your head was starting to pound so you couldn’t bear to do anything but groan.

You lifted your head and mumbled out a soft, “Steve?”

You only vaguely remembered the bartender, whose name you eventually learned was Chelsea, asking for a phone number of someone that could pick you up. And although you should’ve given her your roommate’s number, you instead gave her Steve’s.

“I never thought I’d be the one picking you up from a bar,” Steve said as he sat down next to you. “I always thought it would be the other way around.”

“Y’know what they say about college, it changes people,” You told him with a nonchalant shrug. The two of you hadn’t talked in days, but it still felt like second nature to fall back into the joking cadence you had with him. “I’m a total badass now.”

Steve laughed a bit and looked at you amusingly. “Mhm, yeah, sure you are.”

You weren’t as drunk anymore but you were entering the early stages of a hangover that would be a bitch, and you already knew that there was no way you’d be going to your eleven o’clock Statistics class.

“I can’t believe you drove two hours to pick me up,” You said as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car after you paid your pricey tab and goodbyes were said to Chelsea.

Steve offered you a small smile. “What else are best friends for?”

You couldn’t help but look away from him as you mumbled out a soft, “I didn’t know we were still that.”

“We’ll always be that.”

There was so much certainty in his voice that it actually managed to soothe something inside of you. Only for a second, though, because then you were back in your head again.

The drive back to your dorm was quiet with only the soft sounds of the radio to fill the silence. It was a short ride, only about ten minutes, and the entire time you could only focus on your dull headache and what you wanted to say to Steve because you knew that you had to say something. Although you didn’t want to, that night needed to finally be talked about.

When he was parked in front of your building, you still didn’t know exactly what to say, but you decided to start with something. “Listen, about Robin’s party–”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Let’s just pretend it never happened,” Steve interrupted you. He pushed a hand through his hair and then met your gaze. “It was really dumb of me to say all of that stuff, and I partially blame it on all the drinks we had— definitely way too many. We’re just friends, I know that. And your life is here now, for the most part, and mine is back in Hawkins, so yeah…” He trailed off with a small shrug.

You suddenly felt nauseous and you knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He was saying everything that you fully thought you wanted to hear— what happened at the party should’ve never happened, you two were just friends— so why did it feel so wrong?

Things became quiet and Steve was looking at you expectantly, and you were unsure how long you’d been silent for.

“Um, yeah, exactly,” You finally said as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Before you opened the passenger door to leave his car, you reached over and pulled Steve in for a hug. “Drive safe.”

“Thanks,” He said as his arms circled around you.

For some reason, there was a huge part of you that wanted to say “I’m sorry” in that moment, but you didn’t entirely know why, so instead you said nothing and simply got out of his car.

You headed to the entrance of your dorm building and then turned around, giving Steve a final wave before he drove away.

It was then— as he headed down the street and after a few moments his car became completely out of your view— that you wished you’d been honest; with yourself and with him.

Because it was in that moment of you yearning for him to turn around mixed with you sincerely wanting to go after him that essentially sealed it for you.

Steve was different and he always would be.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and maybe i don't quite know what to say, but i'm here in your doorway.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You felt slightly lucky that you only had two classes on Thursdays because when you woke up after sleeping through your Statistics class, you knew that you wouldn’t be going to your Psychology class that started at three. And the reasoning actually had nothing to do with your hangover.

Aside from the slight headache, you woke up with your mind feeling completely clear for the first time in a long time. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you wanted to do, and before that feeling could go away, or you could convince yourself to push it away, you were in your car an hour before your class was supposed to start and driving to Hawkins. You were pretty much running off of impulse and hope.

The weather was terrible and you hated driving in the rain, but it didn’t matter to you right then because you needed to see Steve.

You had two long hours of driving in terrible rain to figure out what exactly you wanted to say to him, yet you still couldn’t form a coherent set of sentences in your head. But, similar to the rain, that didn’t stop you from ringing his doorbell.

In hindsight, it probably would’ve been smart to bring an umbrella because it was still pouring and from the short walk from your car to his front door, your clothes managed to become effectively soaked, but it didn’t bother you.

“Hey,” He said when he opened the door, it was easy to tell that he was surprised to see you. “Did you drive all the way here?”

You quickly nodded at his question. “Yes.”

“You hate driving in rain.”

“Yeah, but I… I just really wanted to talk to you, and didn’t wanna do it over the phone.”

“Come inside,” Steve said, pushing the door open wider so that you could step in.

You almost followed him but then stopped. “No, wait… I kinda just wanna say this here.”

Steve looked at you confused, but ultimately nodded. “Okay.” He then stepped out of his house and closed the door behind him; his clothes immediately got wet. “It feels wrong that you’re the only one getting hit by the rain.”

You laughed a bit. “Thank you. That’s very considerate.”

Things got quiet for a second and you suddenly felt nervous, but you pushed that feeling to the side.

“I know you said that we don’t need to talk about the party and we should pretend that it never happened. And although that’s exactly what I’d been doing for the past few days, I don’t wanna do that anymore.” It actually didn’t feel too hard to let all of this out; verbalizing exactly what had been going on in your head. In a way, it felt like a relief. “I think I kissed you that night because deep down I know that it’s you too. And that it’s always been you… Which is actually so scary to think about because we’ve known each other for so long and you’re the one person in my life that has been the biggest constant. You’ve seen every part of my very horrific love life and I don’t want us to end up like any of the stupid relationships I had before, and I think that’s why I ran away that night, which I do really regret.” You pulled your eyes away from his for a second. “But, what we have is different, and I want to try. I want us to try.”

You let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s it.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a few moments, and it was then that you realized how loud the rain was, and somehow it was actually a bit calming to hear the sounds of the heavy drops hitting the ground.

You searched his eyes to see if you could decipher what he was thinking, but before you could get a clear read on anything, he was closing the small bit of distance between you both and reaching up to cup your face in his hands before leaning in to kiss you.

The abruptness of the action slightly startled you, but you were completely okay with this nonverbal response to you pouring your heart out. You were kissing him back almost immediately and suddenly the sound of the rain was gone and instead all you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

The kiss felt perfectly new but also so insanely familiar; even though this was the first time this was happening sober. And so many things were running through your mind, but it was also effectively blank and you knew you wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence even if you tried.

Most of all, though, everything happening right then— the way your hands fisted themselves in his rain soaked t-shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you, and how his thumb stroked your cheek so tenderly— it all felt so certain and sure and right; there wasn’t an ounce of doubt lingering in the air around you both or lacing its way within the kiss.

When you pulled away to catch your breath and smiled up at him, a smile that Steve immediately matched with an elated grin of his own, it slightly killed you that all of this hadn't happened sooner.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i just wanted you to know that this is me trying.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington

851 notes · View notes

roanofarcc · 10 days

Text

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER SIXTY THREE → THE FREAKSHOW

summary: steve harrington x oc || Ao3

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 2.7k || masterlist || ocs moodboard

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

previous chapter ← → next chapter

Tagged. @sattlersquarry, @leptitlu, @two-sides-samecoin

The subdivision was quiet that afternoon. A strange calm had settled over Hawkins that spring, but Steve had learned not to let his guard down anymore. Nothing was ever calm in Hawkins, and his nerves were already pricked with Sunshine a couple of hours away in Indy with her sister. He knew she could handle herself if she ran into any trouble, and he tried to convince himself that she wouldn’t run into any trouble, but there had been a knot of worry tied inside his gut since he was little. He worried about everything, all of the time. The revelation of other dimensions, monsters, and bad men only made that knot worse. But he did his best to distract himself.

“Turn your elbow like this,” Steve said, moving his arm to mimic the motion of the kid beside him. “It’ll help your aim.”

Lucas fixed his arm and shot the basketball, putting it right through the old hoop Steve had dug out of his garage. Since Lucas told Steve he was thinking of trying out for the basketball team last fall, Steve had been helping him practice. Between all of his high school highs and lows, basketball had been the only consistent thing for Steve, and something he still enjoyed. It served as a normal distraction for both of them, but especially Lucas. The kid was really good too and made varsity his freshman year. And while he most rode the bench, Lucas had too much potential to stay there forever.

The ball bounced against the cement and Lucas raced to grab it, dribbling it back down the driveway to where Steve stood. He was quieter than normal; Steve was the only person, besides Lucas’s dad, who the kid could have an actual conversation about basketball with. His friends weren’t interested in it, and Steve wasn’t sure of the last time Lucas had a full conversation with Max, to everyone’s dismay.

“You all right, Sinclair?” Steve asked.

He shrugged, eyes glued to the ball. “This game’s a big deal, right?”

“A really big deal,” Steve replied. There were only a handful of times Hawkins High made it to the championship of anything. “But, you know, all you can do is play your best.”

Lucas snorted a sarcastic laugh. “You sound like Sunshine.”

Steve smiled. “Occupational hazard.” She had rubbed off on him, even more so since they were dating. Her sunny disposition and pep talks, along with her adoration of the simple things in life. He saw the world differently with her, and not just the bad stuff that crawled out of portals or gates. The world was a scary place, but it also held a lot of good stuff, you just had to look through the weeds and interdimensional vines to see it.

“I know the pressure can be tough, but you’ll be fine.”

Lucas held the ball in his hands, slumping his shoulders slightly. “It’s not just that. This game is important to me, but Mike and Dustin want me to skip it for the D&D campaign. I guess Eddie refuses to reschedule.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He didn’t really know the guy, their paths rarely crossed in high school. Either Steve was running with Tommy and Carol, too busy to notice nerds like Eddie Munson, or he was sulking in his fall from grace and reeling from monsters and bullies. He’d heard of Eddie, in a small town it was impossible to not know everyone, whether you liked to or not. Rumor had it he was some super-senior drug dealer, and that sounded like the last person Steve wanted hanging around the party. But Dustin refuted the rumors and made Eddie out to be some kind of king of the nerds.

It was embarrassing, and Steve hadn’t even admitted it aloud to Sunshine yet, but he was a little jealous of the Hellfire Club caption. Sure, on paper, he was probably the cooler person to hang out with in the eyes of Dustin because he loved the same game they did, but Steve had thought that he and Dustin were the ultimate duo. He was like Steve’s little brother, annoying and sometimes a pain in the ass, but someone Steve couldn’t see not in his life. But it seemed like Dustin was no longer interested in hanging out with him.

It made Steve feel even more useless to the gaggle of teens, like he really didn’t have a place in the grand scheme of their monster-hunting team anymore.

“Your friends can’t miss one campaign to come watch you play?” Steve asked, shoving aside his own weird issues with some dude he’d never even talked to before.

“Guess not.”

“Well, what about Max?”

Lucas sighed again, hugging the ball to his chest like he was trying to get some kind of comfort from it. “She still won’t talk to me. She hardly talks to Mike or Dustin. Every time I try, she shrugs me off with some excuse. I don’t know what else to do.”

Max didn’t like change, which Steve figured out very quickly after getting to know Max. Moving across the country was one thing, but what she’d experienced since being in Hawkins was another beast. No one could blame her, they all just wished she’d let them help her. Sunshine seemed to be the only one who could get through to her somewhat. She shut the party out, caved in on herself. Lucas was the most distraught over it.

“There’s not much you can do,” Steve said. “You can try to be there for her, but you can’t magically make everything better.”

“It just sucks. We know people with superpowers and know there’s another dimension, but we can’t, like, fix any of the shit we’ve been through. We just have to take it and pretend like…like it’s fine.”

It was beyond frustrating, but that had become their lives. Steve’s mind glazed over it, trying hard not to think too much about it until the world threatened to end again.

“Look on the bright side, you’ve only got four more years here. Then you can play basketball at some D1 school, pretend like Hawkins was some fucked up nightmare or something.”

Lucas laughed but it was mixed with a little scoff. “Yeah, if I live that long,” he muttered, and Steve’s gut turned uncomfortably. He didn’t like that, jokes like that were too real. “And if they ever let me off the bench.” He tossed the ball at Steve, who caught it despite being slightly thrown off guard.

Dribbling the ball, back up the driveway, Steve shoved away the pit in his stomach and focused on the task at hand. “Hey, with my help, you might even get to play in the championship.”

“Yeah,” he replied, sarcastically. “I might even win the whole thing.”

→←

“This feels…unethical,” Will Byers said, chewing nervously on his nails as he stood lookout for Leia.

She stopped, turning her head to look at him. “Really? I could name ten unethical things that have been done to the two of us alone. This, my dearest brother, is good ole’ fashioned revenge.” She balanced a cup of red paint on the locker shelf with a fishing wire around it. Carefully, she threaded the wire through the slit in the door and fashioned it so that as soon as the locker was opened, the cup would be pulled forward and spill on the unlucky but well-deserving bully.

“I doubt she’s even read Carrie. Angela and her friends aren’t going to get the prank.”

Leia sighed, cautiously looking up and down the empty hall. “They don't need to ‘get it.’ All that matters is that Angela is covered in red paint. She deserves a lot worse for laughing at El’s project, but Joyce said we’re grounded if we commit a crime.”

“Technically, I think she said we’re grounded if we’re caught committing a crime.”

Leia paused before she shrugged. “If this doesn’t work, then I’ll think of something illegal. Until then…” She dusted her hands off on her paint-stained overalls from an art project gone slightly rouge and clapped Will on the shoulder. He had grown even taller since their move, Joyce said it was probably the sun that was making all of them grow like weeds, but Will still curled into himself and tried to make himself smaller among their new Cali-folk.

While Leia probably should have been more wary about a new school, but she had a different view of it. She had never attended any kind of school, so she had no expectations. Bullies didn’t bother her because she was good at brushing them off. All of the teasing from Kali’s friends made her skin thick and she had a little voice in her head reminding her she had superpowers and they didn’t; it made her feel better.

Will flew under the radar too. He was quiet and good at blending in, making himself a small target. Luke followed in his footsteps, spending most of his time tucked away in the library which most kids avoided besides the nerdy and quiet ones. It was El that caught all of the flack.

By some unlucky chance, she had caught the eye of a blonde-headed all-American mean girl the second she stepped through the school doors. El was kind, she wanted to be friends with everyone but had a hard time picking up on social cues. And the second Angela got a whiff of El’s slight unusualness, she latched on like a hungry shark. How some freshman had a cult following of brightly dressed, rich friends who would do anything she said, Leia had no idea. It was like they stumbled into the set of a movie riddled with cliches that Leia thought weren’t actually supposed to happen in real life. Yet, there Angela was, laughing at El while she tried to present a project she had worked really hard on. Apparently cruelty earned you cheap laughs; Leia wanted to fry Angle to a crisp.

She had to settle for ruining the bully’s outfit.

The bell rang, singling the end of class. Leia and Will stood innocently at the water fountain and subtly watched as Angela and her clique waded down the hall, her blonde ponytail swinging with each step. She arrived at her locker, entered her combo, and yanked it open. Out poured the red paint, splashing down the front of Angela’s shirt. She let out a shrill scream that echoed through the hall, causing people to stop.

Angela wiped her hands against the paint, smearing it into the fabric and getting a layer coating her palms and fingers. It looked like blood, but the smell of paint quickly filled the air, making the hall smell just like the art room.

Leia hid her laughter under her hand while Will pressed his lips in a thin line, suppressing a smile. They watched as Angela’s friends surrounded her like a flock of birds. She swatted them away and turned out from her locker with her face nearly as red as the paint. Leia couldn’t hear what she said, but without even cleaning herself up, she took off toward the doors that led to the courtyard of the school.

“Okay,” Will said with a laugh. “You were right; that was great!”

Leia beamed. “I’ve got more where that came from.”

He shook his head, a lightness in his tone that only came out from time to time now. “Come on, let’s go find Luke and El. They’ll want to hear about this.”

Unfortunately, their two siblings did hear about the red paint stunt because El was the first person Angela assumed had pranked her. By the time Leia and Will entered the courtyard, El was sprawled out against the ground with her project in pieces along the sidewalk. Angela was standing the closest to El, her arms crossed and laughing along with the rest of her friends who stood on the sidelines.

El’s face was grief-stricken, and that alone was enough to send Leia running towards her sister. She jammed her shoulder into Angela’s sending the blonde stumbling. El stood and outstretched her hand in a similar way she once did when she used to abilities; it was a reflex, one that would probably take El a long time to shake since she had lost her abilities last summer. Before El did anything to give Angela further ammunition, Leia grabbed El’s arm gently and pushed it back down at her side.

Angela seemed satisfied with sending El and her project to the ground and turned to leave, her front half still coated in paint. A tear fell from El’s eye as she glanced at her broken project. With a gentle sigh, Leia tried to channel her anger into something more helpful for El; it was what Sunshine told her to do when she felt her anger gain control of her, fueling her abilities and asking for something bad to happen. Leia grabbed a hold of El’s shoulder, making her sister look at her.

“Are you okay?”

El frowned, wiping away her tears. She nodded sadly, slumping her shoulders.

“It’s my fault,” Leia said. “I pranked Angela, but I should have known she’d think it was you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” El tried to smile, but it was weak and turned back into a frown when her eyes landed on the pieces of her project.

Will and Luke started picking them up, placing them back in the slightly crushed shoe box. “We can fix it,” Will said with confidence in his voice. He pinched a squirrel figurine in between his fingers before holding it out to El. She grabbed the squirrel and closed her fist around it. “We’ll all help, and it’ll be good as new, all right?”

“All right,” El said quietly. She joined the boys on the ground while Leia scooped out the surrounding area in case any pieces went flying off of the sidewalk and onto the grass. She spotted a couple of popsicle sticks and gathered them before she turned around. Directly behind her was one of her classmates, who sat beside Leia in art class.

Startled, Leia gasped, and the girl’s eyes widened before a sheepish smile fell across her lips. “Sorry!” Abby said. “Didn’t mean to scare you, I just found this.” She held out a small hat that El had made to resemble Hopper’s police hat.

“Thanks,” Leia said, taking the hat with a small ache in her chest. Not a day went by where she didn’t think about Hopper; she missed him, but Joyce was doing everything she could to make the three of them feel a part of their family. It wasn’t the same though. They weren’t in that little cabin in the woods, eating Eggos and watching black-and-white detective movies.

Abby shoved her hands in her pockets and rocked back and forth in her busted sneakers. She didn’t dress like most of the kids at school; her shoes were dirty and her clothes were mended with patches of different colors. Her hair was pin straight and black, with thick bangs cut barely above her eyes. She was odd but in a good way. Abby was always bouncing on her heels or tapping her hands against the tabletop. She spoke quickly but with so much enthusiasm it made Leia feel happy too.

“Angela’s a jerk,” Abby said. “I’m glad someone finally did something, even if it didn’t end super well.”

Leia pocketed the hat with a sigh. “I should have used real pig’s blood.”

“You stole the pain from the art room?”

“Guilty.”

Abby laughed. “That’s amazing! Oh, I would have killed to see her face!” Leia laughed too; it was impossible for her not to. Abby’s laugh was infectious, which often got them into trouble in art when they couldn’t spot giggling in the middle of class.

“Leia, are you ready?” Will called from several feet away. They had cleaned up El’s project and Luke was carrying it in his arms, probably in case Angela had any other ideas. Luke was a little taller and broader, harder to knock down.

Abby gave Leia a smile before she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she turned on her feet and headed across the yard, leaving Leia with a friendly giddiness bubbling inside her chest.

Leia rushed over to her siblings, handing the hat off to El. Together, they all walked back into school, El sandwiched between them. The Hopper-Byers weren’t a typical group of siblings, but it was as if they were destined to be family all along. Maybe they radiated the idea that they didn’t belong, slotted pieces of different puzzles that somehow fit, but there was no denying that they belonged together as a family.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #el hopper #will byers #lucas sinclair #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things 4 #stranger things oc #project sunshine #ao3

25 notes · View notes

prettyrealm · 6 months

Text

monsta x i.m mini personality reading

this reading is a paid commision, thank you so much for trusting in me! <3 celebrity commissions • personal commissions

+ positives

a pretty easy going guy, accepting of how life works in general (“it is what it is”, “if it comes let it, if it goes, let it” mentality). he doesn’t try to control things that he can’t and doesn’t fret over it. i.m really seems to appreciate women, he thinks women deserve rights and truly believes they are equal to (and in some cases, better and stronger than) men. for ex, if he was with a woman richer or more famous than him, he would simply be very proud to be with her. he tries to understand the struggles women go through, he’s very understanding of even negative traits displayed by women (he doesn’t expect women to be perfect and understands we go through a lot). i.m is humble in a sense that he doesn’t think he’s better or worse than anyone else - “I’m just a regular human being, the same as anyone”. he is very individualistic and unique. he knows how to appreciate luxury without being materialistic. i.m wants to have a truly strong love and marriage where both parties are really good people to each other - he wants to grow with someone. he isn’t a jealous person - if people around him are smarter, funnier, more charismatic etc. than him, rather than being envious or jealous, he’s just happy to have that sort of energy around him (this is also because his self-confidence is strong enough to know that someone being funnier or smarter than him doesn’t make him unfunny or not smart). i.m tends to have a lot of faith in life and the universe to the point where when bad things happen he just thinks “it wont be like this forever” (so in this sense he has a very positive and optimistic outlook). he’s open-minded and may even try to educate himself on issues that happen in other countries, again a very accepting person (like it’s unlikely for him to be homophobic for example). I think he has a healthy relationship with sex. he is not a lazy person - just because he believe things work out like they’re supposed to doesn’t mean he’s lazy and only going to wait for good things to come to him, he knows he needs to put in effort so he still goes after what he wants. he has a positive view of and healthy relationship to family (it’s likely something he wants, and his appreciation for women likely comes from a good example set by his parents/his own mother or women he grew up around)

- negatives

i.m can be a bit paranoid, untrusting and very distant. he is super closed off - he does not open up easily at all, when he does open up it’s pretty superficial. he can be bad at letting people know what’s going on with him - like he’ll tell you he ended up breaking up his gf, but you didn’t even know he had a gf in the first place (just the vibe of never fully knowing what’s going on with him). due to being so untrusting, he always wants to know way more about other people he meets before he’s willing to open up to them. he may even lie a bit to protect himself due to this (like if he gets the feeling that you’re prying way too much and not understanding that he doesn’t want to open up to you, he will lie to you to get you off his back.) i.m really wants a close relationship, but he fails to realize he can’t expect next level loyalty and devotion from a woman he refuses to even open up to (he struggles to understand equality/give and take in this sense). since he finds it so hard to trust people, he may even reach for red flags and cause arguments over things he’s made up in his head (“do you even really wanna be with me? I can’t tell.”), he will later realize he’s acted out and apologize, but it still kills the vibe and puts the other person unnecessarily on edge (even if he isn’t accusing them of super bad things). he just needs a lot of proof you’ll really be there for him before letting people in. and while he has self confidence, he can be overly confident (not necessarily arrogant), but he can have big and unrealistic goals due to his unwavering faith in the universe, i think it’s likely he even has a problem with actual gambling due to this. he can be a bit irresponsible overall due to his “sky’s the limit” mentality. I think he may also be stuck on a “first love” or “the one that got away” so it’s hard for him to let other women in.

#tarot #kpop tarot #kpop readings #kpop #celebrity tarot reading #celebrity tarot #mini personality reading #piano tarot #changkyun #i.m #monsta x #commissions

33 notes · View notes

xxavengingangelxx · 10 months

Text

Somewhere Only We Know 4/?

Part 4, loves!

Triggers: Flashbacks/nightmares about torture, mentions of self-harm, mentions of suicide, mentions of possibly abusing a pregnant woman (neither party knew yet), mindfuckery Graves playing mind games, possessive behavior. Let me know if I forgot any!

Taglist! @unicorngirly1 (thanks for the ideas, love!), @sharksausages, @bellgraves, @josieguts, @lily-lily131313, @shepgurl - if you want in, let me know :)

A/N: This is entirely new territory for me! Lots of ups and downs in this one. Let me know what ya'll think! These chapters are getting harder to write, I'm not sure why! It might be because of my overwhelming work schedule and exhaustion. But I love this fic :)

Val experiences ups and downs in her first few days back with Shadow Company. Graves increases security but Val still feels vulnerably, especially when she finds out she's still expected to be in the field to help put an end to Makarov, a man she is terrified of.

You woke up to someone with their hands on your arms. You forgot you were back with Graves and lashed out. Or you tried to. He subdued you easily.

“It’s me, Val,” he said quietly.

You sat up. He was dressed. You weren’t. The scratches on your arms were worse than you thought.

“Why’d you do that to yourself?”

“It was a lot. It just brought back bad memories,” you responded. You were getting teary-eyed. Again. Fuck these hormones. “Shit, they drugged me, restrained me. They had me in cuffs and were about to lock me up—”

He hadn’t seen you cry in months. The last time Graves had seen you cry was when you were being tortured for information. You covered your face, trying to keep from sobbing.

So Graves, surprisingly, just held you until your tears stopped. Bandages were placed on the worst scrapes.

Graves had done that before. He’d patched you up plenty of times after his men were finished ripping you to pieces while interrogating you. Your schooling background told you he had done that to get you to associate him with comfort and to make it more likely that you open up to him (and you did; you eventually broke under all that torture and gave Graves exactly what he wanted).

But one thing Graves had not done before, ever, was hold you. Sure, you’d both laid around in bed after having sex but that was a far cry from Graves holding you for comfort.

“Shepherd hadn’t made me aware it had gone that far,” Graves’s voice was calm, weirdly soothing. “Wait,” Graves gently pushed you out of his arms and those deep blue eyes met your darker, red-rimmed ones.

“So they were about to lock you up, and you were steps away from being put in a cell,” Graves stated.

“Yessir?”

“You can knock off the sir unless we’re roleplayin’, darlin,” Graves smirked. His tone then turned serious. “Why didn’t you break? You would’ve gotten way better treatment if you’d just talked, told ‘em everything about me, Shadow Company, everything.” Graves paused before adding, “About everything we did to you.”

“I couldn’t. You were just following orders.” you said simply. “It’s—I’m—I’m—I don’t know how to explain it. I’m weirdly attached to you. And I’m convinced it’s just gonna stay that way forever. You’re never gonna let me get away are you?” You stopped before adding, “Be honest,”

“Hell no,” Graves answered immediately. “I wasn’t gonna let you go before but now that you’ve got my kid? Never.”

“And what would you have done to me if I’d talked?”

Graves didn’t answer.

“Or maybe not you but your men.”

“Tread carefully, Val,” Graves warned darkly.

That tone, that look, let you know that if you pushed enough buttons in the right order on the wrong day, Graves wouldn’t hesitate to at least smack you.

“I’m scared of you, Graves,” you finally admitted. “And while they’ve saved my life several times in the field, I’m terrified of your men.”

And the next question slipped from your mouth before you had a chance to stop it. “Would you have had them hurt me knowing I’m pregnant? If I’d talked at that hospital?”

The look in Graves’s eyes said it all. It took every ounce of strength in his body not to at least shove you. But he restrained himself. You saw an inner battle in that blue gaze, kind of like a bright, blue-sky summer day being interrupted by storm clouds but with the storm not quite gaining enough strength.

“Phil,” his voice was much softer than expected. And the look on his face was one you’d never seen before. Concern? Regret? Shame? Alarm? “I need an honest answer to the next question I’m going to ask you,” his voice gained an edge but it was no longer near as intimidating as it had been a minute ago when he’d warned you to tread carefully, Val.

“We’ve been—together so to speak since—”

“You mean we’ve been fucking since the first night we met when 141 introduced me to you, yes,” you added shamelessly. Only you had expected that relationship to be a meaningless friends with benefits stress release on the battlefield. You two were the only Southern Americans on the blended unit and so you connected and you started fucking. Harmless, right? Now look where you were. You wondered just when Graves became obsessed with you.

Graves didn’t take comfort in your attempt at humor and again, you hadn’t smiled in over 3 months now so neither did you. You wanted to get to the bottom of what he was asking because you hated him questioning you about anything. It tended to bring back bad memories.

“Did I have you tortured while you were pregnant?” Graves asked. “How far along are you?”

And a tiny part of yourself wanted to make Graves to feel like shit for doing what he did to you. What had done to you had been war crimes. But the brainwashed part of yourself overwhelmed that rational part of your brain.

“I don’t know,” you responded. Besides, you were terrified of what he would do or what he would order his men to do to you if he found out you lied and said that yes you are 100 percent sure you had been pregnant when he’d had you tortured. “I’m between 2 and 3 months.”

“Holy shit,” Graves counted on shaky fingers. And then his gaze met yours when he made the connections in his brain. It was entirely possible that you were ether pregnant or became pregnant shortly after he’d had you tortured. “But that’s an estimate,”

“Yessir. Most likely between 2 and 3 months. I just didn’t show cuz…all the gear and the required exercise routine and I’m on the smaller side.”

“So there’s a possibility I—”

“I don’t think you tortured me while I was pregnant,” but were you really a hundred percent sure of that? The hospital had told you in clear words: “How far along you are right now is an estimate. You could be further along. The detention facility you’re going to is going to have to call in an OB to get your history and run other tests. We’re just not too confident in how far along you are other than to say you’re about 2-3 months.” Hell, you’d wondered back then if Graves had indeed had you tortured while you were pregnant.

But here you were again trying to protect him.

Graves had stepped out a while ago.

You were exhausted and your head pounded. You were again feeling sick and seriously fuck these hormones because you were teary-eyed again.

You cried yourself to sleep.

You dreamt of your initial captivity with Graves. When he was still having you tortured. Only at that point he had started introducing hypnotic and mind altering drugs to try and get you to break.

You were strapped down after you’d freaked out and pulled that IV out of your arm in a second attempt to take your life. You’d been beaten, tortured, sleep deprived, and now you were being drugged. A nurse practitioner and combat medic, Shadow 10-4, had been put in charge of balancing your medical needs and trying to get answers out of you using drugs.

Everything kept going from muffled to painfully sharp and loud. You were drifting in and out of consciousness although you probably looked unconscious to Graves who was standing in the room having a conversation with none other than his superior, Shepherd.

“She’s not gonna break, General,” Graves’s voice went to sounding far away to sounding like he was shouting in your face. He sat next to you. Right next to you and his weight, his scent, his presence made you want to get the hell away from him but you were restrained and you were getting more and more intoxicated off of whatever the hell they were pumping into your veins.

You tried to focus on the oxygen catheter pumping oxygen into your nose rather than Graves’s voice because Graves’s voice was nightmare fuel right now. He was the one commanding his men and telling them what to do when they ripped you apart looking for the codes to those homing beacons.

Your drugged out mind reminded you that there was a 10-year age gap between Graves and you. He was about 10 years older than you. The volume on his phone was set to be just loud enough to where you could hear it. So when he sat next to you to talk to his superior, your suddenly ultra sensitive ears picked up on what Shepherd was saying.

Or were you hallucinating?

“Keep the prisoner focused on their own self-preservation and eventually they will break.”

“General, we’ve broken men in hours and we’ve had her for days. She won’t break.” Graves paused before adding, “Let’s stop.”

“Now you’re outta your damn mind,” you heard Shepherd snap. “Stop letting your feelings for this brat cloud your judgement. She’s listed in your paperwork as an enemy combatant, is she not?” he demanded.

“Yes, sir, she is,” Graves conceded.

“Treat ‘er like one,” Shepherd ordered. “You haven’t done any of it yourself have you? Tortured her.”

“I give the order—”

“Not what I’m askin, soldier,”

“I can’t sir. I cannot.”

“Are you limiting your men in what they can do?” Shepherd sighed.

Graves didn’t answer.

“If she doesn’t break in the next day, I’m gonna come in and break her myself,”

You awoke with a start. When it came to these dreams, you weren’t sure if they were complete fabrications of your imagination or whether they were partially true or if they were something else entirely. Had Graves really wanted to stop trying to break you?

Now that you were back with Graves you reached towards the nightstand, looking for something. Graves’s men had shared with you a bad habit: vaping.

And when you found yourself getting emotionally overwhelmed, you found yourself doing two things: vaping and blasting music. But you didn’t have your headphones. For some reason, you hadn’t gotten those back from when you’d been detained. 141, the police, and the military had thought they might be wired as explosives.

You quickly learned that you didn’t have your vape either. If you knew Graves well, and you felt like you did, it was just one of the many minute details of your life that now Graves would ensure to have complete control over.

You were still trying to get used to Graves holding you just because he wanted to it seemed. It caused anxiety still because when he’d held you all those months ago it was to restrain you or hurt you. Even now you shook just slightly in his arms. Whether that was from fear, nicotine withdrawals, hormones, all of the above, or something else you did not know.

He still scared you and couldn’t he tell you were uncomfortable? It wasn’t like Graves to care. It seemed that your relationship would continue to be toxic, just in an entirely different way. Instead of being physically abusive, he was going to be physically and mentally overbearing. He would control every aspect of your existence and whenever that poor kid was born? Graves would control their existence, too.

“Why you hummin’, darlin’?” his voice made you jump. “Get your headphones and listen to something.”

“They didn’t give ‘em back to me when they handed me over to Shepherd,” you responded.

“That’s just fuckin’ cruel,” Graves commented. “No wonder you agreed to come back to me. Consider them replaced.”

“I can’t vape, can I?”

“No ma’am,” he drawled. “Took that shit before you even got back. That was a bad habit my boys taught ya.” He paused before adding, “I still wanna know why you didn’t talk. They were about to lock you up.”

“I wasn’t gonna betray the father of my child,” You said.

And just like that, Graves’s mood switched. “Shepherd was right,” he smirked. “You’d make great wife material.”

There was that word again: wife.

“I’ve got my boys staying here watching you,” Graves’s voice drew you out of a light slumber. Your eyes stung and you were nauseous. Graves’s kid hadn’t even been born yet and he was already giving you a hard time. “Plus I’ve got something for added security.”

And while you still did not completely feel safe around Graves’s men, they had saved your ass more than once in the field. You were too tired, too exhausted to talk. And you were scared that if you opened your mouth that you’d be sick.

One of the last things you heard was Graves telling one of his men just outside the door asking about you that you should be okay. Graves told him to just give you some space until he got back. That you felt warm and didn’t seem like you were feeling well.

The only thing you hoped for was that Graves would hold off on telling Shadow Company about the pending addition because while you somewhat trusted them to keep you safe, there was no fucking way in hell you’d trust any of those men with your child. Those men had beaten and tortured you for days on end.

Those were your last thoughts before you passed out from exhaustion.

The door squeaked open. It didn’t open much but someone or something slipped in. The bed dipped and you felt something wet on your face.

“Graves, c’mon man,”

Was he licking your face?!

“That’s Riley,”

You jumped up, covering yourself with the sheets. There was a large German Shepherd next to you, licking your face.

“Riley?” You remembered that 141 or it’s allies had a dog named Riley once.

Was it the same dog?

“It’s not the same dog,” Graves clarified. “I just named it the same just to fuck with ‘em,” he smirked.

You felt a twinge in your chest when you heard Graves said he still liked messing with 141.

“We’re not gonna get along,” Graves read your mind. “They took you from me and I don’t play that shit, sweetheart,”

“He’s mine?” Riley sniffed at your still-damp hair and it made you—

“All yours and you need to—” Graves looked at you and he paused, stop talking.

It took a moment to get Riley away.

“Now that’s somethin’ I’d pay to see more often,” Graves smiled genuinely.

You were confused. “What?”

“That smile,” Graves pointed out. “I haven’t seen that in 3 months.”

“It’s just air support,” Graves explained. “We have a lead on Makarov and chemical weapons he’s been stockpiling.”

And while you’d been playing with Riley on the floor of the conference room, smiling when he licked your face, Graves got your attention by calling your name.

“That’s where you and Riley come in,” Graves added.

Wait…Graves was expecting you to have boots on the ground when Makarov was involved?

“He’s not primarily an attack dog but will attack if you’re in danger. He’s mainly a bomb sniffing dog.”

After that, Riley wandered away thanks to Shadows offering treats and so he made his way around the table before returning to you and plopping down heavily in your lap. You turned the rest of the briefing out because even though you’d thought Graves was going to be removing you from the field entirely given your condition, he was basically putting you within Makarov’s reach.

And so you promised yourself that if Makarov captured you, you’d take yourself out, pregnant or not. There was no way you could repeat the whole capture, torture, breaking process. No way.

But you were convinced you knew Graves well, and you told yourself that since 141 got their hands on you and he almost lost you, he wasn’t willing to leave you behind anywhere. He was going to continue dragging you and your child all over the world if needed as long as he had you within arm’s reach.

Graves thought you were his property. And you were wondering if he would see his child as his property, as another way to control you.

You told yourself he would.

“You look nervous, darlin’” Graves smiled at you when you were the only two left in that large conference room. “I know just the thing to calm you down,” he winked suggestively.

#phillip graves #cod mw2 #phillip graves x reader #cod mwii #graves x reader #cod mw3 #longwayfromhome #mw2 141 #cod makarov #shadow company

47 notes · View notes

ilguna · 6 months

Note

Piano Sessions: "Out of the Woods" + Gloss, maybe reader and Gloss are exes. Reader included in revolution plans during Catching Fire and trying her best to keep Gloss safe from a distance? Up to you if the reader is successful or not!

☼ out of the woods (Gloss Ritchson) ☼

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, weapon use, ehh gore, blood, the usual hunger games shit.

wc; 3.9k

notes; Piano Sessions: songfic, Out of the Woods by Taylor Swift. the beginning is deceiving, it hits more at the end.

There’s been a few times in your life where you’ve looked back and wished that you could change the outcome of a situation. This usually happens after you’ve made a mistake that you won’t be able to fix.

An off-handed and angry comment you can never take back, that will ultimately end up destroying the person on the inside. It will be the first thing they think of when they look at you, silently wondering if everyone else around them feels the same. And it will be the one thing they’ll hold onto tighter than any other uplifting compliment you’ve given them in the past.

A ruined friendship which had been caused by jealousy and vindictiveness because you’d been quietly growing apart, never bothering to acknowledge it. Instead of cherishing the happy memories and promising to always be there, even when you’re not close, you chose to set the bridge on fire. This left you in a pile of ash and rubble, with an empty space in your heart and an incessant need to continuously fill it.

A shattered heart done with the intention to protect you from himself. No matter how many times you reassured him or begged him to stay, he had his mind made up, telling you that it was for the best. He would never be able to give you the amount of happiness that you deserved. The evidence against that didn’t matter, resulting in you being left behind.

And finally, a decision that has been made for you, bringing you into a situation that you can’t back out of. The layers are too thick, and peeling away at them only ruins the bigger picture, but the further you get buried, the more trapped you become. So, you pick at the paint, hoping it’ll placate your own selfish needs while the others around you continue on as planned.

This is not where the list of mistakes ends, unfortunately. In fact, these aren’t even all of the major ones you’ve made. If given the opportunity, you could probably go on forever, recounting every regret you’ve had in your life, and the way you handled it. The few you’ve listed are just the ones that come to the surface when you’re throwing another pity party.

They’ve been happening a lot more frequently. As much as you try to stop it, by distracting yourself or getting your feelings off your chest—once it starts, it won’t stop. It’s gotten to the point where you don’t even bother to pull yourself together afterward anymore, you simply brace for the next wave that’s inevitably going to come. In the past, you’d only look back at what you’d done when you’d yet again fucked up, but that doesn’t seem to matter now.

A part of you believes that it’s these mistakes that have led you to this point in time. After repeatedly breaking the swear you’d made to pay attention to feelings and actions other than your own, the only way to straighten you out is through the worst punishment. Which is reliving the same event that you’d barely survived the first time around. It’s a rude awakening.

If you were more careful, if you were kinder, if you’d paid more attention, if you stood up for yourself, then you wouldn’t be standing in another Hunger Games arena.

It opened your eyes a little bit. It’s why you’ve been very critical of your actions as of late. All it’ll take is one misstep and a domino effect will begin, and you’ll find yourself with more regrets you won’t be able to live with this time. It would tear you apart if someone innocent died because you couldn’t hold it together.

The last thing you want is to end up in a worse position than you’re already in. Which, to its credit, isn’t exactly terrible. A lot of victors came together to make this alliance possible for a very noble cause, but it’s not exactly what you had in mind when you were drawn out of that bowl in District Eight.

A rebel alliance is a death wish.

In your defense, when Johanna approached you with the offer of joining her, you thought it was done with innocent intentions. She didn’t mention anything about ulterior motives, which you have since assumed it’s because she thought you were already on board. You weren’t. And looking back at it, you should’ve asked more questions.

The issue is that you didn’t feel the need to. You and Johanna are friends, you have been for a couple of years now. You knew that the invitation was coming, and as much as you should’ve been off-put by how long it took her to ask you—there are a lot of familiar victors that have been reaped alongside you.

Out of all the victors that could have possibly got drawn this year for the Hunger Games, it seems as if all the important ones lost the draw, including you. And now that you’ve been talking to Johanna, you can see that it’s no coincidence. The Gamemakers did it on purpose. This has got to be the most nightmarish lineup in Hunger Games history.

Johanna needed time to talk to Finnick and Haymitch about what they were going to do about it. While they expected some interference, they didn’t exactly think that they’d pull out Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus and Enobaria. The best competitors they could’ve grabbed to put up against Katniss and possibly succeed at taking her out and effectively killing the rebellion.

From what you heard, Haymitch put together a list of victors that he thought would be perfect for this alliance. He was mainly focused on skills and what they could bring to the table, while also considering if they’d mix well together with Katniss and Peeta. Katniss being the main concern, obviously.

You, of course, were on this list. As soon as Johanna heard your name come out of Haymitch’s mouth, she pounced at the idea of inviting you. She knew that she could get you to agree, and in the end it would work out in their favor. However, she purposely didn’t take your feelings into consideration.

If you knew the whole story, the allies, the intentions, the sacrifices and the end goal from the beginning—you would not have agreed to join. You cherish your friends and you respect what you’re doing. And while you’d like to be on the right side of the rebellion, you have your own wants and needs.

Johanna made the decision for you.

If you’d made it yourself, you’d be with Gloss, your ex boyfriend. The one person you care about more than anything, the one that you haven’t stopped chasing. The worst part is that he did end up asking you to be in an alliance with him, but you had to tell him no. If he’d gotten to you before Johanna did, you’d be with the Careers right now, keeping a close eye on him.

Now you have to protect him from a distance.

“Go ahead. Try it. I don’t care if you are knocked up, I’ll rip your throat out.” Johanna suddenly snaps.

You tear your eyes away from the jungle’s treeline to look at your allies, who are standing in a tense circle. Katniss has a hand on her knife, knuckles pale from how tight she’s holding it. Johanna has her eyebrows raised expectantly, waiting for Katniss to actually make a move.

“Maybe we all had better be careful where we step.” Finnick breaks the tense silence, giving Katniss a pointed look. He takes the coil of wire that Beetee had risked his life to grab in the Cornucopia, setting it on the scientist's chest. “There’s your wire, Volts. Watch where you plug it.”

Peeta hauls Beetee into his arms since he’s no longer resisting. “Where to?”

“I’d like to go to the Cornucopia and watch.” Finnick says, your face drops completely. “Just to make sure we’re right about the clock.”

Your lips part, intending to object to Finnick’s idea, but the group disperses before you’re able to get one word out, shuffling to the nearest sand strip. Your feet stay glued to the ground, not wanting to follow them.

The only person that notices this is Johanna. You watch as she raises her hand, fingers snapping aggressively in the air to get your attention. Or maybe to get you moving. Either way, you shake your head at her.

“Earth to (Y/n). Let’s go.”

You shake your head gently. “No.” The single word almost cuts her off from how harshly you spit it. “The Careers might not be there now, but they’re going to show up. Why wouldn’t they?”

“We have an advantage on them.” Johanna waves your concerns off. “It’s open water. They won’t be able to sneak up on us.”

“They will.” You tell her.

“(Y/n), there’s seven of us and four of them.” She leans all of her weight onto one hip. “I think we’ll be able to take them.”

I don’t want us to, you think.

If you can help it, you want to keep a barrier between your group and theirs for as long as you can. You know that once contact is made, it’ll be a free-for-all. And that warning you gave to Gloss the night of the interviews won’t mean anything when he’s fighting for his life. His sister’s life.

“But that’s not what you’re worried about.” Johanna says, “Isn’t it?”

You press your lips together, face hardening. You don’t give her an answer when you walk past her, following the others who have almost reached the Cornucopia. Johanna scoffs behind you.

She’s so insensitive.

Peeta carefully lays Beetee down in the bit of shade the Cornucopia provides, and then backs off to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Beetee calls out to Wiress, causing her to come over and crouch beside him. He places the coil of wire in her hands. “Clean it, will you?”

Wiress nods and beelines for the edge of the island, getting down to her knees so that she can repeatedly dunk the coil in the water. Johanna’s just making it to the Cornucopia when Wiress begins the song about the mouse again.

“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna complains, rolling her eyes. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

The song suddenly stops as Wiress jumps to her feet, standing rigid as she points to the jungle. “Two.”

You follow her finger, finding a wall of fog creeping onto the beach. This must be what Finnick was telling you and Johanna about earlier. When it started early this morning, Katniss thought it was a result of the rain—the blood rain your half of the group was caught in. It wasn’t until she could smell the sweetness, did she realize that it wasn’t natural.

Finnick said that it felt like his skin was melting off his body when it touched him. The longer it went unwashed from his body, the more the poison sept into his system. The paralyzing effects got so bad that they couldn’t control the spasms in their bodies. It was particularly bad for Peeta, because he’d been involved with a force field accident that afternoon.

In the end, Mags sacrificed herself so that they wouldn’t have to worry about carrying her over Peeta.

“Yes, look, Wiress is right. It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.” Katniss says.

“Like clockwork.” Peeta murmurs. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

Wiress simply smiles, going back to singing and dunking the coil. “Oh, she’s more than smart.” Beetee says. “She’s intuitive.” All attention is turned to Beetee, who’s finally coming back to life. “She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

“What’s that?” Finnick asks.

“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” Katniss says.

“What’s it do, die?” Johanna asks sarcastically.

“It stops singing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” Katniss murmurs, walking away to head into the mouth of the Cornucopia.

The conversation ends there. Johanna half-shrugs, following her inside, but for her own reason. You find a box that doesn’t contain anything important to close and sit on top of, staring off at the water, occasionally glancing at the jungle. Johanna pokes around the building until she finds a pair of axes. A mischievous smile crosses her face just before she launches one of them at the golden Cornucopia.

It sticks with ease.

Peeta, who sits in front of you, has drawn a circle into a large leaf that he plucked from the jungle. He uses his knife to map out the arena the best he can, with the Cornucopia in the middle and the twelve strips branching out from it. There’s even circles to indicate the waterline and the jungle.

“Look at how the Cornucopia’s positioned.” Peeta tells Katniss.

She’s leaning over his shoulder. “The tail points toward twelve o’clock.”

“Right, so this is the top of our clock.” He says, going on to scratch the numbers one through twelve around the face. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He labels it so in a tiny print, working clockwise to fill in the wedges that you know.

“And ten to eleven is the wave.” She says.

Finnick and Johanna emerge from the Cornucopia, armed with their preferred weapons. It makes you nauseous to think about who they’ll be using them against.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks you and Johanna, but you’ve seen nothing but blood. “I guess they could hold anything.”

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. He sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.”

A heavy feeling suddenly weighs in your chest, causing paranoia to creep back into your mind. You glance up, eyes on the jungle, observing it in the new light, but also to make sure that no one has snuck up on you. Your heart seizes in your chest, as you’re met with your worst fear.

Before you can think it through, you’re on your feet, running at them—him. She doesn’t matter, Wiress doesn’t matter. Her throat is slit so wide open, she’ll be dead in a matter of seconds because of the waterfall of blood running down her neck. He, however, can be saved.

If you can move fast enough.

A cannon booms, right as Gloss lets Wiress slide to the ground. From the corner of your eye, you watch as Cashmere rises from her crouch position from the outer side of the Cornucopia, knife in hand, ready to attack your allies.

The sound of whistling air makes your eyes widen. Arrow. You jerk to the left to block Gloss from the assault, taking it in the back of your shoulder. The sharp pain forces tears into your eye involuntarily, the momentum throwing you off balance, making you trip over Wiress’s body.

You barely have enough time to wrap your arms around Gloss before you’re diving over the side of the island, plunging into the warm water with him. At first, it’s fine, but the longer you’re underwater, the more you begin to panic, kicking your legs, flailing your arms. It isn’t until Gloss grabs you, pulling you up, are you able to breathe.

“I thought I told you—” You begin immediately, dissolving into a coughing fit.

On the night of the interviews, you warned him. And it hadn’t been once, you managed to pull him aside twice to make sure the message got through. The first time was just before Cashmere’s interview was about to end, you had a minute to talk, so you dragged him down an adjacent hallway.

Out of habit, you’d reached up to straighten out his suit, fixing his collar. It was a gesture that you’d done over a dozen times before while you were dating. When he broke up with you, it stopped, but only because he didn’t like that you were still insisting on taking care of him. He thought you deserved better, and he didn’t want you to get hung up on him.

It’d been so long since the last time you fixed his clothes that you froze in the middle of it, looking into his eyes to make sure he was okay. You couldn’t find the normal annoyance that he tried so hard to hide in the past. He was vulnerable at that moment, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was almost out of it—his doubt.

“I want you to be careful in the arena, Gloss.” You said, hands retreating, palms falling onto your dress. “It’s going to be terrible in there, nothing is going to happen the way you expect.”

“That’s how it always is.” He told you, eyes flickering down the hall. “It’s not going to be any different.”

“Yes it will.” You shook your head. “You’re going to be at a disadvantage from the get-go. It may seem that the Games are catered to the Careers this year, but you’ll be wrong. You need to take extra care of you and Cashmere. I don’t want you going into plans half-baked.”

Gloss pressed his lips together. “If you’re so worried about me, then why don’t you join us?”

“I can’t.” You whispered. “It’s too late now.”

“How do I know you’re not trying to sabotage me?”

You blinked, a pout forming. “When have I ever set you up to tear you down?” You countered.

The two of you stood in silence, eye contact underwavering. He was searching for an explanation in your eyes, one that he wouldn’t find, despite how intense you were making it. You were trying to instill it in his brain. He needed to trust you. You needed him to trust you.

“Gloss Ritchson!” A voice shouted down the hall. “It’s time!”

He looked past you, taking his first step to go around you. You grabbed his wrist, causing him to hesitate. “Trust me, please.” You begged him. “It’s my turn to protect you.”

It must’ve felt like a hot iron touched him, because his whole body flinched at the reference to your break up a year ago. His face twisted, lips parting, but no words came out. All he could do was move forward, toward the waiting staff at the end of the hall. You watched him go, and then crossed your fingers that it had worked.

You were trying to shock him into considering it, by using his own words against him. The night the two of you broke up was a hard one, but it wasn’t sudden. You’d seen it coming for weeks at that point. Gloss was constantly in his head, and it was showing through his mask.

His eyes wouldn’t light up the same when he saw you, he’d always find something else to look at to distract him. He wouldn’t include you in conversations, even if you were standing right there. His touches became infrequent and rare, as if he was afraid that he’d break you if he applied the gentlest touch.

You two were crashing, and there was nothing you could do about it. You tried bringing Cashmere into it, but she said she couldn’t help. She didn’t know what Gloss was up to, and she didn’t want to get in the middle of it. She wanted to preserve the friendship that you two had delicately formed.

When Gloss had finally decided he was done torturing you, or came to the conclusion that it’d be better to set you free, you were trying everything you could to hold on. You knew how much he hated to see you cry, and you tried to use that to your advantage when it came to convincing him that you were happy with him. That it’d hurt more if he left you now.

It got him emotional, but it didn’t have the same effect that you wanted. He told you that it was to protect you from the Capitol. They didn’t like that you were dating one of their darlings, when they had other ideas for him. Gloss didn’t want you and your actions to be under scrutiny each time you were with him. He didn’t want you to be miserable, so his solution was to leave.

You tried to tell him he was making a mistake. That in a room full of people, you’d always look for him. And you were never going to move on if you could help it. This made him more stubborn, more determined to push you away, but you’re persistent, and he knows this. A year later, as you promised, you haven’t dated anyone since. You haven’t even looked at anyone in that way, either.

Well, you had a feeling that shock wasn’t going to be enough. So, after the interviews, you caught him one more time. The lobby was dark and packed full of victors, prep teams, escorts, stylists and Peacekeepers alike. Still, you picked him out of the crowd, a grip so tight that you might as well have been handcuffed to him.

He searched your face in the darkness, eyes wide, reaching for you. A pair of hands clamped on your shoulders, yanking you away from him, starting to direct you to the elevators.

“Pay attention in the arena.” You told him. “Do you understand, Gloss? Do not act on whim.”

And then you let go, the Peacekeeper threw you into an elevator with Woof, and you were sent up eight floors. It was the last time you were able to talk to Gloss. You’ve been under the impression that it worked, until now.

A cannon blasts.

“(Y/n)?” Gloss has one hand on the rock island to keep you from drowning in the water.

“I thought I told you to be careful.” You manage to get out hoarsely, the salt water fucking with your throat. “This is not careful. You need to go.”

“What?”

“If they see you here, they’ll kill you. It’s bad enough you killed Wiress. Go, Gloss, before they catch you.” You push his shoulder. “Please.”

“You saved me.” He insists. “Why?”

Your allies are beginning to shout, looking for you. You glance over your shoulder, but all you can see is the black rock. “Please, baby, please.” You beg him. “We don’t stand a chance if you don’t listen to me.” You grab his shoulder. “Go and be careful of the jungle, it’s a clock.”

You turn now, grabbing the edge of rock to pull yourself up, water weighing you down. The second you’re visible, several heads turn, a wave of relief moving through the group. You get to your feet, wrapping your arms around your upper body, feeling the water run down your legs.

“The Careers were just here.” Peeta pants. “Where’d you go?”

You open your mouth to give them some lame excuse on why you jumped ship, when the ground jerks beneath your feet, sending you flying to the ground. The rock that the Cornucopia sits on begins to spin, going from zero to a hundred is the blink of an eye. The force begins to pull you toward the lake.

The lake that Gloss couldn’t have possibly escaped in that short amount of time.

this was part of my 3k celebration!! which took place in fucking october and im still completing requests holy hell.

17 notes · View notes

kmenkea · 11 months

Text

Bloodlust - Part 3

Summary: A bunch of hectic days are ahead of the party, but even through the fight, they manage to bond. Astarion finds himself worried when his favourite travelling companion falls in battle.

A/N: I think the only thing I have to say, is that this fanfic is moving very slow, as I'm taking my time to write and expand on the relationship, rather than just rush to the cool heart-warming romance part (and the ehhh, less wholesome parts which are coming with part 4 (which is already written btw, I'm just lazy and keep playing the game instead of posting)). Well, tell me if I should speed things up, or if it's fine to keep it slow and write for a lot longer.

Read on AO3

Word count: 4.4k

This sketch is very rough, but I liked the expressions on their faces

As always, mild spoilers for act 1

The two days that followed were, to put it lightly, an absolute turn off. First, they ran into a small barn house where two lovebirds were having a moment and didn’t take the intrusion lightly. The jokes around the fire that night were way too raunchy and disgusting for either Leeith or Astarion to hide away together, without thinking of what they had seen and be weirded out. It was fun though. For the first night, they actually all drank and got together around the fire like friends. Before, everyone would just quietly sit alone, maybe one or two people would have a conversation together, but most were stiff and distant from each other.

The next day, they went back to that path, dead hyenas littered the cobblestone street. One of them was panting and howling, clearly in pain. Leeith moved closer, hoping to help it, or at least end the pain, but the animal exploded in her face: a gnoll was birthed right in front of her. And the underdark was the horrifying place? No one had ever told her about gnoll reproduction, because even down there few things were worse.

Even if a bit beaten up, they managed to kill the two metres tall babies that were born in front of them. They made camp on a nearby hill, recounting all the grossest and most gruesome details of every creature they knew. Once night fell, Leeith remained alone in front of the fire, observing it fly and twirl. A bottle of wine was by her side, but she only took small sips. She didn't know what it was, but her mood had turned more sour than the contents of that bottle. Going back in her mind through these days, she realised the great weight she was carrying over her shoulders, how insignificant she truly was. Part of her wanted to just let go, be turned into an octopus and lose herself forever. She wasn't scared of death and ceremorphosis didn't sound far from it. But just… she couldn't just let go of life now. The people she was travelling with would have been fine without her, they were capable enough and she didn't care what they did of their lives if it didn't influence her own; her goddess, that was the only reason she had to life, she couldn't squander it after she had given it back to her.

A cold hand touched her shoulder, making her jump. She never noticed just how silent the vampire's steps were. He sat down, throwing his arm around the drow. She didn't welcome him, but she was glad to have been pulled away from her thoughts.

"Shall we depart, my sweet? I want to enjoy this night." He kissed her jaw and gently bit her skin. She didn't respond, just shrugging her shoulders. The offer was tempting, but… the melancholy had taken a strong grip on her heart.

"Maybe another day, if it's all the same to you." She drank a sip of wine, then offered the bottle to her courter. "I'm drier than this wine right now." She chuckled. Astarion scoffed and tried the wine. He made a disgusted face while reading the tag.

"Are you the one changing your mind? Mhph, here I thought I would get to taste you tonight." There was something in his voice, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Some kind of anxiousness. She had just rejected him or maybe he was just annoyed by going hungry another day.

"You can still drink me if you want." She offered her wrist. "Sorry for not giving you blood yesterday, I was too tired." She grabbed the bottle back from his hands, taking one long swig.

"A tempting offer, darling, but I'm afraid that vinegar spoiled your blood." His arm fell from her shoulders. Leeith felt bad for him: under the arrogant and indifferent masque, there was a whole lot of annoyance. And she couldn’t have him annoyed and resentful towards her.

"Mhh, come on darling, let me make it up with you. I'll get something better to drink so we can get shitfaced and my blood will taste sweet again, then you have your fill of me." She bit her lip, placing a hand on his chest and leaning towards him a bit. Even if it wasn't what he wanted, the offer of blood was just too tempting to pass: she could see it in the way his eyes glanced at her wrist and his fingers wanted to wrap themselves around it. He was still a slave to his sanguine hunger.

Astarion agreed at the end. As the night progressed, the drow got drunker and drunker, her smile growing wider and wider, while the liquor did its magic. Even the vampire senses were getting duller, his quips and remarks less on point, though he was drinking a lot less. Somehow, they were enjoying each other's presence and having fun as friends would. They didn't finish the bottle before the drow, gulping her last sip, put it aside.

"I- think I'll- stooop." She mumbled, laying down on her bedroll and looked at Astarion with a smile. "Come get your priiiize!" She hummed happily, exposing her neck.

The vampire didn't need to be asked twice. Gently, he cradled her head, keeping it on one side. Leeith shivered, feeling his body, made warm by the fire, come down on her. Somewhat she regretted rejecting his advances, but even in that state, she knew she was too drunk to go back on the decision. The bite arrived, icy as always, and she tried to let herself go, but a certain sadness returned. Hers, his, it was hard to tell.

Anxiety mixed with drunkenness and a sprinkle of remorse was all they offered to each other. Astarion was waiting to breach her mind, but the connection never came. Did he do something wrong? Did he upset her in any way? Were his techniques not working anymore? That couldn't be: she did still offer her blood. Part of him was glad he didn’t have to act, he didn’t have to use himself to get what he needed. But what would he do once she’d get bored of him? He knew perfectly well Leeith wasn’t the kind to do things without a prize coming her way. It was better to forget for now, just focus on her blood, burning his throat with alcohol.

The elf left her neck, licking his lips to catch any runaway droplet. Leeith's head was spinning like a cartwheel, between the wine and the bloodloss. She didn’t even try to sit back up or clean her wound, preferring to just pull up her blanket.

“Already tired, darling? I hope you’ll be able to keep up with me tomorrow.” He got up, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll make you- regret theshe wordsh. I’ll- suck you dry.” She slurred, twisting her body in a more comfortable position. “Good ng- nee- night, Assstarion. Ass-tarion, hehe.” Her mind left the material plane for that of memories before he could respond.

The next day, after guzzling down a weird concoction against hangovers, they continued on to a tollhouse on the bridge. There, some paladins of Tyr were looking for the same devil Leeith's group was searching. They had taken residence in that building: it was pretty large, with a main room full of barrels and crates and a desk at the centre piece, it communicated with a smaller upper floor thanks to two ladders. Another room was on the side, which served as kitchen and sleeping quarters. It also had a basement, but they chose to save the plunder for later. The drow offered her help to the paladins: it was better to stick together in case the wanted woman proved dangerous.

When they did find her, she looked pretty badly put, hiding away at the edge of a river and… on fire? How was she not dead or screaming her lungs out? What kind of devil was she? Leeith, Shadowheart and Lae’zel moved closer, while the rogue remained behind, crossbow already in hand. The devil saw them arrive and… smiled. Her hand never got close to her axe nor her words showed hostility. The drow heard her story and at the end, decided to invite Karlach in.

According to the tiefling’s words, they were going to need all their firepower to beat these imposter paladins.

“Alright we’ll do it this way: Karlach you’ll come with us. Shadowheart and Lae’zel, you go back to camp and tell the wizard to come here. I want to test if his magic is powerful enough - and I hope it is because these guys don’t seem to joke around. Don’t mention anything about this to Wyll. You will keep an eye on him and stop him if he tries to come here, understood?”

"Aye aye, captain." Scoffed Shadowheart.

In silence, the two went away. The tension between them was palpable as always, but they seemed to understand how to keep their animosity in check for the greater good.

The trio waited for the arrival of the wizard, chatting with their new companion, asking her about wars and the hells, which she was pretty happy to recount. Her jovial attitude did put a smile on Leeith's face, along with her need for violence. She did care a bit too much about the wellness of others, so the drow wasn't sure how well she'd mix with her way of things.

Her line of thought was broken by a voice. "Hello there." It said.

"Good, you arrived." She said upon seeing the wizard. "Gale this is Karlach, Karlach he's Gale, our mage, finally out on adventure." She added ironically at last. Gale was a bit confused upon seeing the tiefling, but still smiled.

"A pleasure to meet you." He greeted her warmly, extending a hand.

"Might be better I don't touch that, soldier." She beat her chest and more flames came out of her skin.

"Ah. I know something about dangerous things inside your chest." He laughed. Leeith rolled her eyes: the guy was really a money sink and dared get angry at her when she probed his mind for more information, as if she was just going to have a random guy eat her stuff and, worse of all, insult her and her patron's magical abilities.

"Far from me to interrupt you, but can we stop with pleasantries and go do our job? We're not exactly hidden away." The drow stood up, waiting for her companions to follow her. Gale sighed and mumbled something about patience. Her head was throbbing too much to pick up a fight with him now.

"I do so want to sink my teeth into a paladin. I wonder what holy blood tastes like." Commented the vampire in a dreamy voice, walking away.

“They’re not paladins, they’re imposters.” Corrected Karlach, fidgeting with her greataxe.

“Ahh, but can’t you just let a man dream-” The elf was interrupted by a swing getting way too close to his nose “Sweet hells! Can you put that damned thing down! I’m right here!” He screamed, jumping a few steps back like a startled cat. Karlach looked mortified, but still jolly, as she hid the weapon behind her back.

After a few chuckles and jokes at the expense of the vampire, they returned to the tollhouse. Leeith ordered everyone to stop talking and put up their most serious faces. She was going to at least try and talk their way out of this situation, hopefully the paladins weren't the liars the tiefling said they were. And if things turned sour… she motioned to Astarion to go towards the back of the building, strike from the shadows if combat started.

The rest went past the slaughter corpses of gnolls left on the bridge and towards the main door, which was open. But something was off.

The closer she got, the more a sense of impending doom spread in her mind. The tadpole squirmed inside her brain: it felt like an arrow had gone through her eye. She scratched it, praying to Lolth this wasn't the start of her transformation. Not now, after so long.

But the pain wasn't physical, it was more like a heavy curtain falling on her shoulders, smothering her. She proceeded forward, showing no signs of her discomfort to her companions.

A flash struck her mind: she saw Karlach dead on the ground, Gale limping away and herself laying face down on the floor, in a pool of her own blood. What was that?

She glanced over to the people behind her, but they seemed relaxed. The vision, it felt… like a déjà vu. Was that premonition or just anxiety? She couldn't stop now, they were basically in front of the door, just one more step and she would have locked eyes with the man.

Another flash made her whimper in pain: no, the man wasn't a paladin. He was going to use that sword against them in an effort to kill Karlach.

"What's the meaning of this? Why is the devil with you?" Shouted the man from behind his desk, hurrying to stand up. What should she do?

Karlach walked past her, starting to say something to explain herself. The drow's head throbbed again. Maybe it was just the alcohol, still inebriating her mind. But…

"Dolor!" She shouted, as the warlock aimed for that traitor's head. Tingling rose on her shoulder, flowing down her arm like a growing wave of spiders; realising the blast made her arm recoil backwards, but the man was still hit on the chest by a bolt of force, making him gasp for air.

"You fucking worms. Zariel will have your head!" The man unsheathed his greatsword and jumped over the desk. Karlach was already drawing her weapon and, in a burst of flames, she lowered it on the paladin's shoulder, leaving a dent in his armour.

"I thought we were going to speak with them!" Cried Gale, as a spell was forming around his hands. He glanced around, still confused. Another enemy was in the room, an halfling who seemed about ready to shoot Karlach. A ray of lighting left his fingertips, shocking the archer. A painful scream arose from the other room

Leeiths head cleared up, the foreboding sensation finally gone. She scanned the area, her lips ready to cast another spell: Gale could take the halfling archer alone, the real problem was the paladin. She pointed her index at the man and a curse mark appeared over his cheek, then she blasted him again. He glared at her, but couldn’t move past the mountain of infernal muscle that was the tiefling. He attacked her, a sweep so swift that it could have cut a person in half, if the barbarian hadn’t stepped aside; a large gaping wound still tore her abdomen, spitting fire and blood, but she just seemed reinvigorated by the pain. An arrow went just past Gale, who retaliated with another lighting shock.

Both the tiefling and drow continued their assault on the fake paladin, but his battle senses were in full operation and the attacks didn’t hurt him as much as they should have. He swung at Karlach again - his strikes empowered by an enchantment - this time wounding her arm pretty badly, almost making her lose her weapon. The halfling used a spell against the wizard and this time the arrow struck true, forcing the mage to drop his spell and glance at the pool of blood quickly soaking his robe. Even if in pain and on his last legs, he called upon more of his magic, and the halfling too was left within an inch of her life, but not quite dead.

Something felt off again to Leeith, watching Karlach fight in the first lines alone. She still tried to hit the paladin, but her mind was too preoccupied with thinking and missed her target. The tiefling hit him with all her might, sending him against his desk coughing blood. Maybe it was going to be fine.

Another scream ruptured her eardrums, this time coming from Gale, who fell down on the ground, unconscious. The halfling focused on Leeith, smirking and marking her for dead next. Before she could react, pain exploded on her hip, as she found an arrow sticking out of her abdomen. WIth anger bubbling inside her, she limped away from the desk to get a clearer shot. She launched her finger forward, calling on her patron’s shared energy. A second later, the lifeless body of the halfling hit the wall, as blood poured out from her mouth and eyes, the blast having crushed her internal organs to a pulp. The paladin shoved Karlach aside and ran to the drow, greatsword raised high past his head. With a burst of adrenaline and panic, she managed to get away, but slipped on someone’s blood, falling to the ground. Karlach was right behind the paladin, using the handle of her greataxe to choke him and pull him away from the helpless drow. He pushed her against the desk, but she wouldn’t let go of her grasp.

Leeith crawled away from the two wrestling mountains, her hand shuffling through her pockets for a potion. A flash of magic caught her eyes: from the door to one side a wounded and bloodied woman appeared. The magic missiles she casted kicked out whatever vitality she had left, and her vision darkened. In the last moments of consciousness, she looked around for Shadowheart, but she was nowhere to be seen. A male voice screamed.

“No, you can’t die. Get up, damn you.” Astarion arrived in the other room, just as Leeith fell. The woman he had fought against all this time turned around, ready to hit him too, but the elf parried the blow and slipped away from her, running towards the drow.

The paladin was still alive. He knew the tactic well, what Leeith had ordered everyone to do in every fight: Lae’zel and Shadowheart would go in front, protected by their armour, while the drow and himself would stand behind, picking off enemies from a distance. If anyone fell, “Let them kiss the ground and focus on killing; they can lick their wounds after the battle is over.” But the two women were nowhere to be seen and the situation was dire.

His intestines twisted and tugged at the sight of the drow struggling for her life. He felt like he couldn’t just let her go. No, she was too important, he needed her to protect him. He needed her blood and flavour. And something else he couldn’t quite put his fingers upon, something that reminded him of yesterday’s evening, as they drank and chatted; that reminded him of all the little pleasantries she’d do for him, having his back both in fights and in conversation, the things she would give just to him, like that potion.

He reached in his pockets for the bottle, removing the cork with his teeth and emptying the contents in her mouth. The human woman used this as an opportunity to attack him but, quick as a cat, he rolled away from the fire bolt, just as Leeith's eyes shot open and she gasped for air.

He reached for his crossbow and the bolt plunged itself under the enemy's chin, right where two bite marks still bled. Her hands reached up at her throat. She tried to scream but only some gurgly noises came from her mouth, then her eyes rolled up and she fell.

Astarion pointed his weapon at the paladin, who was still in a lock with Karlach. They both looked pretty rough, but the tiefling had the upper hand. Seeing the elf ready to strike, she kicked the man away from her. The rogue shot a bolt which hit his thigh. The paladin fell to his knees: Karlach swung her axe one last time, beheading the traitor.

The bloodbath was over. They had only an instant to rest, before rushing to the mage: he was still alive, but he needed help. The drow could only dull his pain with a healing potion, but at least he was out of death’s door.

Karlach was enraged, panting heavily and clenching every muscle in her body, as if she was fighting against herself. She cursed at Zariel, growling like a bear.

“Burn their corpses, tear this whole place down.” Coughed Leeith, dragging Gale’s body outside. The barbarian roared and, in a burst of flames, split the desk in half. She swung her axe at every object in the room, setting the wooden floor on fire wherever she stepped.

Astarion and Leeith watched from a careful distance, both sitting down. The rogue barely had any scratch marks on his pretty, delicate face.

“I thought you weren’t going to need potions, darling.” Teased the vampire. The drow glared at him, as she checked the arrow sticking out of her abdomen: only part of the tip had managed to penetrate her skin but it still hurt like hell.

“Shut up, blood sucker- Nngh- Fuck!” She bit down on her glove and pulled out the arrow. Her scream was muffled, but tears formed in her eyes. After taking a few breaths, she untied the lower part of her gambeson, to check on the new soon-to-be scar she had acquired. Her shirt was all red and it hurt to lift up from the wound since it was stuck in it. Blood was pouring pretty copiously, but not enough to worry, and the wound looked clean, with the edges already starting to heal thanks to the potion.

An elegant porcelain finger caressed her hip, turning scarlet as blood pooled on the little crevices and wrinkles of the skin. As quick as it came, it disappeared, and Astarion ran his tongue over his hand, slowly and weirdly sensually. Leeith didn’t speak, but her expression still warranted an answer.

“It’s free blood, my sweet. Why should I let it go to waste? The pain makes its flavour even richer.” The vampire lips were very red with leftover blood; he licked them clean.

“You’re a gluttonous one. I fed you yesterday!” The drow uncorked another small vial and put it at Gale’s lips, slowly pouring the liquid down his throat. The mage coughed as he regained consciousness.

“Very much so, dear. I even fed on that woman who so gently killed you, but human blood is not even half as delectable as yours.” His voice was as soft as honey when he talked, flowing gently from his lips to her ear. He placed his hand on her sane hip, leaning closer.

“Cloud I- cough - not wake up to- you two flirting.” The mage’s voice was strained and low as he tried sitting up.

"Think you should thank your lucky stars that you woke up at all." Said Leeith, gently pushing Astarion away.

"How- fortunate." He breathed heavily, trying to steady his voice. "What happened to- speaking with the men? Surprise attacks should be a- gods- a surprise for them, not us."

"I got a bad feeling about it. A flash of our dead corpses if you will… more dead than now." The drow stood up, looking inside the building for the tiefling. She was sitting in a corner, panting. She seemed to have calmed down.

"Gods, another one of your flashes? Like with the bear?" Said the vampire with a mocking tone.

"Are you going to bring out the bear thing every time I remember I have to do something?" She said, turning around towards them.

"Absolutely yes. I love to twist the knife in the wound." He grinned reassuringly.

"That's what makes you truly charming, blood sucker." Said the drow, earning a hum of approval from Astarion.

"Thank you, darling. You're allowed to compliment me more."

"Sorry to- interrupt again, but you and I both still need medical assistance. Or are you going to stay- here to…" He waved his hands up in the air and a few sparkles and coloured smog came out. "Do your magic?"

"Huff, I suppose it's true. Though I would have been fine if someone didn’t kiss the ground first and break formation." The drow turned to the building again, and called out Karlach.

Once all together again, they decided to rest for a bit more, since Gale couldn’t walk nor anyone carry him. More resentment started to build up in Leeith, watching the wizard very slowly regain his ability to move, after popping another potion. If Shadowheart had been there, they would have already been patched up and ready to go, rather than lose precious time looking at the corpses rot.

The drow couldn't bear staying idle for more than fifteen minutes. She explored the premises alone, while the other three had fun and laughed, but didn’t find more than old food and some lockpicks. Her companions probably noticed how her brow furrowed and jaw clenched, while she looted the paladin’s corpse. It’s not that she wanted them to stop having fun while she ransacked the place, but she did feel a little better for receiving help. After entrusting the enchanted greatsword to Karlach, they went to the basement to loot some more. They unfortunately didn't find anything more than traps and some silver cutlery. She had a hunch there must have been some kind of sliding wall or invisible keyhole, but had no idea how to access it. Shadowheart had way keener eyes than the wizard: if she had been there, they would have been able to find the secret room.

The return to camp was just as frustrating: Wyll jumped right to Karlach's throat and had to be peeled off by Lae'zel. Leeith was at the last rope, but fortunately the barbarian was pretty understanding of the situation and managed to come to an agreement with her pursuer.

Only then was she able to be seen by the cleric, who very easily closed her wound. The drow blew off some steam, complaining to Shadowheart how bad Gale was and how much more she preferred her around. She cautiously accepted the compliments, then went to tend to the wizard.

Leeith left camp to find a river, bringing along just some soap and a large linen cloth. A few minutes later she laid in the frigid water of a lake, all sounds muffled by the water in her ears. Her heart beat slowed down and her body went numb from the cold. The sun had started its descending parabole, the sky wasn't pink yet; there was still much time before evening, but she just needed to relax for today.

And relax she will for once. Something caught her eye, a flash of white and red. With everything going so badly today, she had almost forgotten about Astarion's promise.

#baldurs gate astarion #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate fanfiction #sketch #astarion romance #character illustration #baldurs gate fanart #baldur's gate oc #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

21 notes · View notes

flappingpussylips · 10 months

Text

i'm gonna describe two different jobs and i'm gonna ask you guys to pick between them. no one can decide where my priorities lie, but i'd like to know what other people might do.

Profession #1: Pros: -pays extremely well -very good hours. A choose-your-own-hours type of job. Will never be anything but a 9-5. Three day weekend most of the time. Allows for getting paid full-time for working part-time hours. I could also bounce between companies and work for multiple companies. -once I get my license for this profession, it's incredibly easy to keep it renewed and so I could potentially have this career in my back pocket forever even if I take a 10 year break or something -can sit down whenever I need to Cons: -notoriously difficult schooling -extremely hard on the body; some people even start developing problems before they're done with training. Some people work out hard everyday to combat this; others pay physical therapists or chiropractors to help them. Basically everyone ends up with some sort of problem though. It's common for people in this profession to work only 5-15 years max in this career before they make bank and switch to something else -the work itself is extremely repetitive and never changes. Many people say they have to sing songs to themselves or daydream all day to stay sane. -almost no room for growth or climbing up the ladder. There's usually nothing new to learn and no promotions to be had. -it's client-facing and I'd have to do small talk all day every day

---------

Profession #2: Pros: -I'm much more genuinely interested in the actual day-to-day work in this profession than in profession #1 -I would never have to see or speak to a client/customer ever again in my life. I'd only have to worry about my coworkers/department. -the environment in general is highly appealing to me, from the types of people I'd be working with to the literal type of building I'd be in. -has lots of room for growth and learning. It's not too hard to take knowledge learned from this career and do bigger and better things with it. I'd always be learning something new -I get to experience helping people in my own way without ever speaking to or touching them Cons: -pays worse than profession #1 (like 1/3 less) -has terrible, long hours frequently. Like 12 hour shifts from midnight to noon is what I could potentially be working sometimes -would be constantly on my feet -this is a "behind the scenes" type of job and the efforts of people in this profession are often ignored or overlooked, despite being incredibly important. the kids next door will always get the pizza party -the workload is highly unpredictable

*if you read this whole thing I love you :) pls vote

#polls

11 notes · View notes

naoa-ao3 · 1 year

Text

The Lives We Live Now

Cordelia had had her fair share of nightmares in life. Growing up on a Hellmouth did that to you even if you weren't aware of it.

There was something in the Sunnydale air that just crept in through bedroom windows and slithered in ears and up noses and into open mouths.

Call it radiation from hell or whatever you want.

She had slept only marginally better since arriving in L.A.. She wasn't over top of a Hellmouth any more but life was hardly demon free.

Since teaming up with Angel and the others she had come to find herself in the kinds of situations she had once tried to avoid. The stuff she had once been so sure came only with Buffy Summers and their weird town.

She regretted some of that now. She had not been understanding or incredibly kind but she had been young and she had aged a lot since high school. Seeing your principal eaten by a demon worm had that kind of an effect and so too did losing all of your safety and inheritance.

College had once seemed natural for her.

She'd go and see some parties, snag a hunk and maybe walk away with a doctor or a lawyer for a husband.

Of course none of that had ever happened and a small part of her was glad about it. As hard as it was she liked the life she had now. She was doing something important and for the first time in her life she had come to really care about that.

Whatever she had had to give up. . . it was a world away now as she finished cleaning up around the hotel.

Angel was off patrolling with Gunn and she and Wesley had stayed to work only now at nearly three in the morning even he had put his head down, an ancient tome his pillow.

He'd probably kill himself if he drooled on it and as she cleared some of the mess of research books away she glanced at him.

He looked unhappy in his sleep and she paused for a moment, knowing he kept so very much to himself, knowing that Wesley was not always a happy person.

He shifted, smearing his face on the page slightly and making a noise.

"Oh Wesley. . ." She said, setting the book she had been holding aside and going to him.

To her surprise he was shaking slightly.

She hesitated and put a hand on his back. "Wes? Wake up." She said.

He shifted and fought it but then after a moment finally opened his eyes and she saw something pained and confused in them.

"Cordelia. . ." He whispered, lifting his head which was sticking to the page.

It tore and he froze.

"You looked like you weren't having a great dream." She said as he looked down in dismay.

He smoothed the page over. "I-I didn't mean to-" He seemed distracted and she felt for him.

"It's okay Wes, I think we've all had our fair share of nightmares."

"It wasn't a nightmare." He said rather abruptly, hands still trying to smooth the torn page out.

She watched him piteously and sighed, taking the book from him and getting the tape dispenser. "Whatever you call it." She said.

She had seen him after torture and pain, seen him probably the weakest next to Angel still holding his own. Whatever he dreamed she knew he was stronger than it. Even she was stronger than her dreams.

She always had been the strongest woman she knew.

He was quiet for a moment before straightening his glasses and looking at her. "I didn't. . . I didn't say anything did I?"

"You? No." She said, handing back the taped page. It wasn't perfect but at least he couldn't paw at it and make it any worse.

He nodded, still looking shaky.

"Hey, we see a lot of ugly stuff Wes. Don't beat yourself up."

In the dark he looked almost ashamed but that was Wesley, forever beating himself up over something small. Something he couldn't help.

"Cordelia. . ." He said as if he were about to explain something but his voice stopped in his throat and he just hung his head instead.

"You remember the sludge demon we took down last month? I dreamed about that thing for weeks." She said. "The smell alone."

He looked at her weakly then. "I didn't dream of a demon." He whispered softly, eyes returning to the now taped page of his book. He ran his fingers over her tape-job carefully this time and she didn't really know what to say. Wesley had always tried to keep his problems to himself. This admittance was out of the ordinary.

She nodded, remembering him after Faith had tortured him.

"Sometimes the worst things aren't demons, I guess." She said softly, the room too dark around them.

He nodded, not meeting her eyes. He looked miserable and trapped in himself, he looked like someone lost.

"You should go home, we both should." She said, trying to stay kind despite the world they lived in.

"I don't. . ." He was quiet. "I'm sorry."

She didn't understand and yet doubted very much he was going to open up to her. That wasn't his way. "It's okay Wes. You just had a bad dream."

He nodded yet again and sat in defeat. "Cordelia. . . do you ever go to visit your father?" He asked. He sounded uncharactaristically small and she was thrown by the question.

"No, not really I mean he's the one that lost everything we had and turned us into the public laughing stock in Sunnydale right before my graduation."

He looked at her strangely. "But he is incarcerated here- in Los Angeles?"

She shrugged, not about to feel guilt or at least determined to try not to. "I'll see him eventually. Anyway mom made me go and see him after he first got arrested so it isn't like I haven't been." She felt a little flinty. Even now her mother had a hard time seeing past the vapid, cruel girl she had been and the further she got from that girl the harder it had become to relate to her mother.

He nodded. "I haven't been home since before I came to Sunnydale." He said, voice soft in the darkness.

She frowned. "Hell of a severance package." She said.

He nodded and swallowed. "Some part of me never wants to go back." He looked at her as if he'd just revealed something horrid about himself and was waiting for her judgement.

She didn't have any to give.

"Then don't." She said. "I don't have a reason to go back to Sunnydale."

"I made such a mess of things." He said, shaking his head miserably.

"Wes, you're feeling sorry for yourself. You messed up in Sunnydale but it's not like Buffy or Faith tried to make it easy for you. Even Giles didn't."

He looked at her.

"What? You think I didn't notice? Please Mister, I had my eye on you back then. I saw."

A faint ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "I was rather enamored with you."

"Of course you were." She winked. "But we're not there anymore Wes. We have our own lives here. I don't even know if we're the same people."

"We're the same people." He said softly. "Just little wiser."

"And a lot older." She said, feeling far away.

He nodded again and they were silent.

It was past three in the morning now and Angel would be back in a few hours' time. They needed to be home and in their beds, ready to do the daylight work their boss couldn't.

"Come on, pack up. We'll walk home together."

He nodded and closed the book, torn page and tape disappearing among it's siblings and after a last lingering touch, he put it aside and followed her out.

#cordelia chase #wesley wyndam pryce #fanfiction #fanfic #friendship #hurt/comfort #nightmares #not romance #angst #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #btvs #ats #ao3 #introspection #pov cordelia chase #fluff

8 notes · View notes

palialaina · 1 year

Text

....it's so nice to know that I am not the only one who does a thing in panic mode.

Though I suppose, being fair, Reth brought this one on himself.

Berryyyyy......

I did... a thing. And now I don't know what to do with myself. You know Reth and I have been talking a lot lately, and the other day I told you I thought he was cute. But I'm really not the kinda person to do things on impulse. I'm the take my time and think about things sorta person. And he's only just started telling me what's really up with him, and more than anything I just wanted to be a friend that he can trust.

.....but as he was kinda joking around he told me I could flirt with him or give him a heartdrop lily if I wanted to. And so I said okay and then...did. It's not that I didn't mean it, because I did, but I think I was taken aback at myself just as much as he was, but he asked if I was really sure and then said he was gonna take the gift before I changed my mind. And then we both got awkward and said we had to get to work and ran off. I.... don't know what to do with myself now??

Anyway, if Reth comes looking, I'm not here. I'm hiding in a hole somewhere.

Help.

-Lark

I honestly can't say if this is better or worse than what happened with me and Jel. But it makes me feel a little better? (Though I suppose Reth being far more forward than Jel made it easier to shove something at him immediately.)

I tabled my dinner party idea (for the moment, we're gonna try and all four of us get together next week. Squee!), brought macarons and other new cooking recipes over for Lark, and we spent a few hours going back and forth about which one of us is more awkward. And we're kind of decided we're siblings, or maybe we were in the place we were before.

I like that. Having them as a sibling.

But that was definitely a fun letter to get. At least we can both agree that we have very terrible ways of starting relationships...

Less dramatic news, my entire house smells of fish, and I am entirely blaming that on the trout dinner. It's so hard! And catching rainbow trout takes forever... but it is kind of nice to just sit and catch fish. I think I understand a little more why Einar likes it. But I still think I prefer my garden.

Oooohhh.... I wonder if I can use all the fish I don't want as worm food?

I may have to try that. I was catching a lot of dace between my two rainbow trout.

Fortunately, I have mostly covered up the scent with blueberry pie. I used up all my blueberries, but you know what? Totally worth it. Mmmmm~ I absolutely remembered this recipe without any help at all. Maybe I was some sort of baker in the other life? Reth's soups and the other dishes confuse me, but sweet like the macarons or the blueberry pie aren't so bad!

I have one more room to add to my house after the living room's done, but making it is a little tricky. I don't need a full sized room for a second bathroom (I'm shy about people walking through my room! It's silly, but... that's more my space than the rest of the house, I guess...) so maybe just a hallway sized spot with no windows will be okay? Or maybe two, and it's just a really long bathroom?

I'll have to think on it. But I swear, every time I earn some money up, this house eats it. I will be glad when it's done, I have so many other things I want/need to buy.

....no, brain, we don't need to make a guest room for Lark to sleep over in. And no power in the world could convince Jel to stay the night, no matter how much I'd like that.

I had the whole table laid out earlier, before Lark's letter arrived. It's a shame it'll all have to wait, but oh well. I can make it again next week. If they show up.

I hope they do. I really want to have a tiny dinner party with the people I like best. Both romantically and not.

#palia #palia online #singularity 6 #berry plays palia #palia game #palia journaling #palia journey #palia mmo #palia roleplaying

3 notes · View notes

traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 2 years

Note

TW: mention of aging, fear around men, sexual repression and low esteem and depression

Hi, I turn 30 tomorrow and of course it’s Christmas in a week’s time, but I just feel so flat and hopeless. I have no friends or a partner, and feel like my life is just never starting. Im scared of time passing yet nothing changing; of being lonely forever.

My past negative experiences involve boys from my childhood so I’m still very wary around men, even though Im attracted to them. It’s weird, and I know I’m weird. Yet I wouldn’t say this to anyone else who’ve got anxieties due to their past. I want my 30s to be better, yet fear they won’t be. Have you got any kind words or advice on how to make it so? Thank you.

Hi anon,

Thank you for reaching out and sharing with us, and my apologies for the belated reply ~ I’m so sorry to hear you’re struggling right now with feelings of hopelessness, and just want to begin by stating that I do not think you’re “weird” in any way for having these conflicting feelings around wanting a relationship but also healing from childhood experiences - as well as fearing the trends will continue as you age. For better or for worse, we are shaped by the foundation of our early years and they have long lasting impacts well into our adulthood but you also deserve to extend the same compassion about things that like you said, you wouldn’t judge anyone else for (though I can appreciate that’s easier said than done). As a survivor myself, I think it can be a fine line between navigating a coping skill and having an avoidance mechanism to the point where it’s becoming this sort of self fulfilling prophecy - for example, I personally do not want to go to a bar where men are drinking, but then, what about being invited out with a group of friends? Or at a casual party in someone’s home? Do I avoid all invitations where alcohol might be present? But the thing is, there is no one template for those on their healing journeys (or else we’d all be using it). Because it comes down to rewiring our own individual brains to navigate and process our triggers and slowly work our way down the healing path with (hopefully) a supportive system in place along the way.

So my advice is actually a series of questions:

Do you want to have relationships with men? What kind, platonic, romantic?

Is there a cultural bias that is adding pressure to these ideas of what you “should” be doing/having?

What are your goals? What are your boundaries? What are your coping skills when someone inadvertently crosses non stated ones? How do you want to communicate your needs?

Relationships, friendships, and community can mean different things to different people: is there a way to foster one part of this equation through work colleagues, community events, volunteering, as you slowly build up your confidence?

Is it possible to have a supportive therapist along this journey you could discuss your feelings with in a safe environment to process what you’re hoping for?

These require emotional labor, self awareness and compassion as you label what you’re looking for in life, but I do believe by having at least the bare bones of these in mind it can help navigate the next step of the process. By knowing what you want, it can become easier to spot like minded individuals who want the same, and slowly build up from there.

It’s understandable and valid to wonder if things will “always be this way” so to speak, but I truly believe you’re already shifting the dynamics by simply acknowledging them and reaching out to see how you might be able to embrace something different - that’s more than a lot of people are willing to do, and I commend you for it!

- Mod Kat

#trauma talks #mod kat #tw ageism #ageism #aging #tw aging

13 notes · View notes

caperingcryptid · 2 years

Text

A Strange Patchwork

"Family" meant a lot of things to the Resolute Agent.

It meant, for one, the weight of responsibility around her neck before she was even old enough to fully understand what it meant. It meant learning to hold herself a certain way; silvering her tongue to a shine; keeping her cards close from anyone from her family. After all, she couldn't trust anyone else but them. Not really. Not even herself.

"Family" meant, to the Agent, being the clay shaped into exactly the type of figure that was expected of you. It was an oppression that curled its fingers into your shoulders, leaned into your ear, and told you you must make them proud.

She was not even 15 years old when she threw what belongings she could into her trunk, slipped out the window, and darted into the dark to never return: for if she did, she would be resigning herself to something far worse than what the streets had to offer.

Leaving her home hadn't brought her freedom. Pawning off the jewelry she had snatched on her way out for a little extra pocket money hadn't brought her freedom. As long as she was anywhere near her home town- her home country, even- she would always feel like the hunted animal she knew she was.

The Neath promised freedom: not just from the ever-present paranoia that haunted her in the harsh light of the day, but from the constraints that the rest of the world bound her to. In London, a man and a woman stood on equal footing. Her education, her job prospects, and her entire future were firmly in her hands, and it would be hers to do with as she saw fit.

Whether she ran herself into the ground, or climbed beyond what she could even dream, it didn't matter. She was, and would now forever be, her own creature.

When she and the passenger ship she was on passed through the gates of the Cumaean Canal and into the lush, unfathomably eternal night below, she very calmly put to death the girl she had once been. Though a part of her would always remain, it was there that the Agent was born in her place.

She found that London suited her quite well. Over the years, she did far more than survive. She thrived. In a world where the services of the most Watchful, were needed to help handle some of the rampant chaos that went on in the Neath, someone who had long adapted to being on guard fit in perfectly.

She carved out a reputation for herself with her own scarred hands. Though not famous, she was known enough among certain circles that she was never short of work. She was an investigator that would work in quiet determination until the job was done, and once it was, turned her attention to the next.

It was true that she had little in the ways of companionship, but the Agent had never exactly been a social butterfly. She enjoyed a good book and the quiet. She might not have been happy, but she was content. That was enough for her.

Then an old acquaintance of hers came calling. The Faded Music-Hall Singer.

It's remarkable how quickly one event can turn such a carefully constructed life on its head.

It's remarkable just how deep the Bazaar's well of poison ran in the Neath.

It's remarkable how the most desperate of circumstances could bring those caught within them together.

The Faded Music-Hall Singer was little more than a friendly acquaintance, but with her death, the safety of her sister, Clarabelle, had fallen into the Agent's hands. Even if she hadn't known the Singer beforehand, the horror of the poor woman's situation was more than enough to compel her to look after her.

Dr. Vaughan came next into her life by means of necessity. Prenatal care was important for anyone pregnant, after all, let alone someone carrying a creature that was not of this world. Vaughan was the only one capable and competent enough to be trusted to help. Then, of course, knowledge needed to be found. Supplies needed to be gathered.

Dangers had to be faced, and the Agent was the most qualified to be the one facing them on the behalf of their little party. She had to be their protector, because there was no one else that could. She led them to the roof of the unworldly skies, down a sun, through the glass. She gave her blood to save the life of a woman she had met not long ago, even if it meant binding herself to the strange, chimerical creature that was building inside her.

One day, as they were breaking bread over a campfire, the good doctor cracked a dry joke about the Provost of Summerset, and the Agent found that she had started to smile in spite of herself.

She knew, then, that it was too late for her. Professional care had given way to something fonder. Something softer.

"Family" meant a lot of things to the Resolute Agent. It meant the weight of responsibility around her neck. It meant holding herself a certain way, and bracing herself against the horrors that the world might bring. It meant vulnerability.

She found herself thinking of it again as she wiped the sweat from Clara's forehead, her other hand being crushed in a grip so tight she thought the bones might snap. Around her, Dr. Vaughan, as sensible as she was, barked orders and worked with ferocious speed. The Singer sang her sister's child out into the muggy Parabolan air, even as the force of it burned her tongue to char. And Hephaesta, who had fought for the sisters long before the Agent had entered their lives, who had sacrificed her own safety to help in this venture, ran supplies back and forth to the brink of exhaustion.

Then it was over. Before the Agent could think of protesting, the doctor passed the child to her, and left to patch together the damage that had been done to Clara.

She had always thought of the child as entirely and inarguably Clarabelle's, even after she had supplied her own piece to the puzzle. She looked down at the little creature with exhausted fascination, aware of just how much of an anomaly it was, and...

...It looked up at her. In that strangely cherubic face, she saw her own eyes mirrored back at her, but off: like looking in a funhouse mirror. Gone was the calculated sharpness. The layers of stoicism and guardedness, which had built up in them like a pearl around sediment, were entirely missing. Its eyes were entirely bright and earnest and alive, and so vulnerable in just how amazed they were by the very idea of being alive.

The Hybrid- no, her child- wrapped its tiny, delicate fingers around one of her own, and smiled at her.

Family was a frightening thing, as was the love that was brought with it. It was a vulnerability that could cow children and the grown alike into obedience.

However. There was something beautiful in just how frightening it was, as well. As the Agent stared down into her own softened eyes, she knew, then, that she would give her own life before her child fell into the claws of Mr Fires. Before any of her strange, ragtag group did.

She had found her own family, the strange patchwork of people that it was. She would not let it come to ruin.

#fallen london #failbetter games #light fingers spoilers #ambition: light fingers #creative writing #writing #oc #the resolute agent

4 notes · View notes

the-firebird69 · 1 year

Text

Watch "Skylar Grey - Coming Home (A.N.O. Remix)" on YouTube

youtube

This is my mom singing and bolge. It hasn't happened yet she's hearing about what it really is I think I don't think the matrix has been found on Australia the clones are going there in huge numbers and it doesn't make sense it's just another mixture of the same thing except for that and there's a lot of other evidence. And the clans are in there a lot of them are alive and John Gallagher says he believes it because the clones are saying it all the time. Mom says you're a spoiled brat because I did just don't see what he says I'm not saying what he says I'm saying what I said after he said what he said doesn't matter what the order of it is and yes it does if you say it don't repeat it and here we go again Christmas and I'll tell you what it's much better than when I'm hearing all the time but it's because of this aggressive guy Tommy F and may explain next plan is to bring them back and have another go round when he's supposedly taking power back and it looks like he has to get them out in order to make sure that Tommy F doesn't get the secrets of the AI

Zues

He'd be pushed to bring them down to try and open it up and that's the whole nature of it and right now he's thinking he has to no eventually a little power down and that might not happen it seems to just go and go any sort of figure out how and it can repair itself so give me a hundred years or a thousand years before it shuts down and let's try stuff all the time we are getting ready to go down there. And this is how it is. There's a lot going on and is distracted okay. These people have children and they go missing all the time we thought that they were doing it but they do it to each other and they like the kids and they're very sad people and it's true the clones are kidnapping them and using their in-fight. This is d and she saying she's coming home and at some point they might be coming out and she's saying I made mistakes and you see what I was doing and my husband says you weren't making mistakes you got caught but they got caught worse and I used what I got and I kept part of you out and I didn't know there are two of you and all sudden she says what the hell do you think happened I said I don't know he did a good job and she says where are you I'm not up where you are yet I'm still in the past but I probably still there says you are I can see you screwing around trying to lift weights and get big it's taking forever I still have the medicine in you that's what you're saying it's a few months later and they get out and they're all about around and stuff and everyone's imitating them so perfect I plan for that to happen is there anything else you planned I was supposed to help you remotely and people go after them for the AI and you know the drill and so I figured out something you're actually right so it's going on that way it's a lot of stuff but he knows how to do things and you're bothering me and I'm going to prepare I have Ascension party to attend and they're going to tell me about Mars and what's going to happen and I'm going to ascend again and it is an important place and important Ascension and I'm meeting my father and mother for the first time in my life and maybe others too a different fathers and mothers and their paternal and others who are fathers and mothers as well and I am going to be out of my mind with happiness and joy. This is going to be good and they're helping me and it looks like Tommy f in the movie up is found my husband who seems to be riding on him as the dog

I'm getting ready now and he's right we have a time here for me to speak I'm looking forward to this event I really am and they're getting really really busy and they're doing a lot of work and they're telling me it but I do understand they are there's very little time left and it's a reminder what my husband and I are doing so you're going to post

Hera Zues

Well pleased with the result you're both strong and they're working on you and they're making it hard but what he's saying is sad and it's true and his mom saying that song probably knew that he would do that no it's because of the future and she is welcoming the clan back and she's helping it's real but they get put in the museum and she's horrified and she sees herself there and it's horrified and she thinks she can get herself out and she's going to do it and she says and it's a lot of work but they grew a force and it is because of her son's work and although he's trying to do things that are weird she sees the problems

Our child was coming to roost and she is very welcome and this is her home

Olympus

#Youtube

0 notes

moved2usagiiboo · 3 years

Text

Chapter 18

Previous chapter || Next chapter || Masterlist

Warning, this chapter contains smut and violence. Minors dni.

You were trying your best to adjust to the heartbreak that transpired all of three weeks ago, working your hardest to build yourself back up. Riding of those terrible thoughts in your head and try to appreciate and love yourself, love yourself more than ever. You had come to the realization that you never understood your self-worth, how important you are, how special you are. Even if you aren’t the life of the party or the hot topic on everyone’s mind, there was only one you. Whereas you worked to regain your lose confidence, stolen by the one and only Ran, he was having his own battles.

You slapped Ran and walked away, refusing to say nothing else as he stood in shock. His body froze over when his cheek began to throb in pain, those small hands of yours that would easily disappear with entangled with carried more strength than he initially thought. Fingertips barely touching the mark he let out a laugh, despite the action to be known as a joyful response to something funny or entertaining- It was lace with pain, desperation, disgust, it was a laugh you would hear only from a broken man who has lost everything. He can’t bring himself to let any words out, his head is empty, numb even. As if any form of thought has left his brain, he can’t feel anything other than the occasional twinge on his face and the sunken feeling in his stomach.

Week one, he was pissed. Furious even, he had offered you the chance to be by his side forever. He would have taken care of you, loved you, cherished you, spoiled you. Anything you wanted, you would have received if you just asked. You were being difficult, you acted as if he genuinely harmed you. Faces pop in his head, thinking about all the women who would have jumped at the opportunity to be with him.

Why didn’t you feel the same?

If you wished to be a brat, so be it. He didn’t care, he has better shit to do than worry about why you refuse to use your brain.

He had so much anger piled up his brows were in a permanent furrow, he would jump at any chance to be on a mission. Fortunately for Ran, his boss had a lot. For some reason, a gang who was affiliated with Bonten had decided to raid one of their warehouses, killing their men, taking their drugs, and their money. Worse thing is, Ran had offered to give them the benefit of the doubt despite Mikey’s concerns with them seeming shady and untrust worthy. Ran gladly took this mission, planning on killing every one of them who decided it would be a good idea to betray him.

He started with lackies, those who had no importance to the gang. Nothing more than errand boys with loud mouths and attitudes. Ran hated those; people who talk but never go through with what they say. Posers, fakers, liars. He’ll make quick work of them. As he hunted down the lackies, finding them in low-run clubs or guarding some disgusting apartment filled to the brim with trash and shameless acts. He didn’t bring any back up, no— This was the perfect time to let out some of this aggression he had. With each man he found he pulled zero punches, breaking noses, knocking out teeth, bashing their heads onto any hard surface that was near by. For those who died in that apartment, they were lucky. The man who unfortunately got spared was taken. He woke up tied to a chair, he didn’t remember much or knew was he was but he could smell the ocean, feel the waves under him as the ship rocked back and forth. He tried to plead and beg, promising to give Ran any information if he let him go. Ran had taken a few pages out of Sanzu’s book, he took two fingers, both middle from each hand and beat him stupid. Just before having his underlings stuff his barely conscious body into a barrel full of cement and then chucking him into the ocean.

He sent the fingers to the dead man’s boss, which he learned the location from the man he just tortured. Ran insisted on going alone, however, he was forced to go with Sanzu and Rindou. They raided the safe house, gunning down any and everyone inside. It was a bloodbath and yet it still wasn’t enough to get rid of this feeling inside.

Week two, if Ran couldn’t fight this feeling out— He’d fuck it out. Going to the club almost nightly to find a new body to lay in his bed. However, it never got far. He couldn’t get aroused with the drunken sluts who put it out for anybody with money, it wasn’t his style. After two nights of straight clubbing, having women grind on him, tease him, grab him, he decided to simply call someone he knew. He figured he couldn’t get hard because they weren’t his type, now Jane— She wasn’t the best girl, no, but she was great at giving head and was even better at riding. He invited her to his condo, glass windows allowing the moonlight to enter his room as his legs were spread apart just enough for her to fit her head between his legs. His pants were down to his ankles along with his boxers.

“Such a pretty cock, I’ve been waiting so long—” She was cut off when he entangled his hands in her vibrant red locks pulling her towards his cock.

“Too mouthy, get to work.” His eyes darken as he stared at her, pushing her face into the underside of his member. She giggled before letting out a closed mouth moan, releasing vibrations in her throat as she went to work. Her hands on either side of his thigh while she started with his balls, sucking on one while slightly tugging on it, it was sloppy. She barely started and drool was everywhere. She licked the underside of his cock before bobbing her head skillfully up and down, taking him completely like a pro. She worked as hard as she could but, he still wasn’t hard. He hasn’t been since she came, for five minutes she pulled out all the stops. Jerking him off, playing with his balls, deep throating, everything. He barely let out a shaken breath, he was composed.

He pushed her off of him and quickly demanded her to be face down as up and she obliged. She looked back at him as she got on all fours on the bed only for him to slam her face down, he felt disgusted just knowing it was her. He pumped his cock a couple of times before spitting directly on the tip, he placed himself at her slit before pushing himself in. He wasted no time, he jackhammered into her. She was loud and obnoxious with her moans, dramatic even. He couldn’t get hard if she was acting like some cheap prostitute trying to earn extra money, he slammed her face into the pillows hoping to muffle her. He closed his eyes as he continued to thrust, one hand on her thighs and the other holding her head down.

It didn’t work.

She didn’t feel the same, smell the same, look the same, it was just— wrong.

He pulled himself out with a sigh, he dragged her up by her hair as he made her sit up for him to take her place. He laid flat on the bed, and with a simple command he told her to ride him. She bit her lip before smiling, she cradled his thighs only for him to growl out—

“Other way.” He refused to look at her. He felt as if he would vomit if he did. With a scoff she turned around, grabbing his flaccid dick visibly upset that she wasn’t enough to get him hard. She tried bouncing, grinding, spelling his name and “coconut” with her hips but nothing worked.

“Why isn’t anything working?” She scoffed, removing herself from on top of him before caressing his face.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a slut then it would actually feel good.” He sighed before getting up, pushing himself off the bed. He gathered her clothes and threw them next to her, his dark stare told her to change.

“W-What does that mean?” She stuttered out, still not putting on her clothes. She sat up in the bed, moving closer to the edge. On her knees with her hands in-between her legs she looked up at him with puppy eyes as she grabbed his arm, “Ran-Ran, what do you mean?”

“You’re easy, you wasted no time to fuck me the first time you saw me. Who knows how many others you let inside that loose cunt of yours— Get out.” He snatched his arm away from her grip as he opened his room door.

“Ran! Don’t be like that!” Still naked she walked over to him, hand rubbing his toned arm up and down, “Look, you’re stressed. Come back to bed and we can try again, yeah?” She stood on her tippy toes to lean next to his ear, “Ill do that thing you like.” Within seconds he had her turned around and pushed out the door, he threw her clothes out of his room before closing the door and locking it.

He tuned out her yells and screams as she banged on his door.

“Don’t get mad at me because you can’t get hard! It’s your fault! Not mine— You can’t do this Ran! Let me back in—” Her yells had woken up his younger brother who stares at her as if she was a mad woman, with a cocked eyebrow he told her to stop embarrassing herself and get out. She quickly changed her clothes, embarrassment rising inside her. She didn’t know anyone else was here, he was so quiet she didn’t even hear him sneak up on her. After she left Rindou told Ran through his closed door to pick better women.

He sighed as he laid in bed, in nothing more than his boxers as he tried to ignore the overpowering smell of her perfume in his bed. He rolled his eyes as he thought about Jane’s overly dramatic moans and how in comparison to yours were nothing more than painful to hear. Yours were soft, melodic, it made him want to make you feel good. Feel good because of him, the way you were embarrassed because of how good it felt— How you covered your mouth, ashamed of the noises you made.

Oh.

His hand palmed his now hard cock, he cocked his eyebrow with a scoff as he thought “There you are, a little late now.” He pulled down his boxers just enough to free himself, now standing proud and tall a complete 180 from how it was earlier. He pumped his hands up and down his length, his thumb squeezing his tip as precum leaked. His mind traveled to how you squeezed around his tongue when you were close to your orgasm, how you cried at the smallest feeling of pleasure. He imagines having you all to himself, you were a virgin too— He’d be your first. He groaned at the thought of being the first and last one inside your cunt. He would fuck you till you forgot your name, making sure you came over and over again, all because of him. He felt himself get close as he thought about your fucked out face and how cute you would sound mewling his name. Quickening his pace as he pumped himself he bit his lip holding back the urge to cry your name as he shoot spurts of cum into his hand.

Now he knows why Jane wasn’t doing it for him.

Week three, as days passed Ran sat on his couch thinking of nothing as he twirled his cup waiting the dark liquor spin around its cage and swirl the circle ice that resided inside. The sound of burning wood and light wind was the only noise made besides the small “clink” from when the ice hit the inside of the cup. He has barely spoken on day three, only listened. He attended his meetings, done his job, even did his paperwork without complaints. His co-workers became worried about him, he wasn’t himself. Not a single snarky remark or sarcastic comeback, he even refused to go to a local club owned by Bonten. One of his favorite half-time activities.

His brother tried to speak to him, but it was as if he was turned to stone, he barely responded. Nothing more than shell of the man he once was.

He lays in bed at night, staring at the wall before picking up his phone and reading through your messages. He stares at the picture of the bunny macaroons as he feels a soft smile run across his face when he remembers how he teased you for wanting a bunny shaped treat, the way you pouted and complained about his teasing was adorable. You were his kryptonite.

His precious little dove. The only thing he can think about is how upset you were, the look of betrayal and shame as you slapped him. He regrets everything, he wishes he met you properly. Took you out on a date, held your hand, took it slow. Learned to understand his feelings, made you understand them. He wants to hold you, love you, he wants his world to revolve around you and you alone. But now, you hate him all because he couldn't control his jealousy.

He really fucked up.

Taglist (open!) @beidouluvr @axlongchamp @rinrinfoxy @konigasaki @yeehawnana @q-the-rockaholic @bontensucker @paulmccartneysleftasscheek @st4rryhae @m4yam0 @red-clouds @kusuinko @ikissbaal @haitanihime @bajitorasprincess @lagrimasdeglitter @snowyseungs @bontensbabygirl @piracyandatiny @kris-1 @tirzamisu @yeagerqq @averageslt @haitanis-sugarbaby @graceb4boys @justanotherantisocialteenager99 @kawasbaby @minimalisticstyle @hayami-17 @azzy-ar @gulfkfl @talakaissi @asra-x @ihateuguys @queen-flower @wack0-genius @halcyondaisy @crybabylisa @loonashadow @bxnten @voldyshit-1997 @sugusshi @Killumiii @hiidenchihu @rindous-wife @vcperoqs @moontofuu @chosoisbaby @talesofjerryandjack @shutupandkissmealready (Let me know if I didn't tag you! Bold names = couldn't be tagged)

Psst- This story belongs to me, please do not post anywhere else without permission first. That's illegal ⚖️ Reposts are okay!

Ran really did fuck up

I love how everyone is rooting for Sanzu now 😔 Traitors

It's only gonna get worse from here 🚶🚶🚶

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #ran haitani #ran x reader #ran haitani x y/n #tokyo revengers crack #dull series #dull #tokyo revenegers angst #sanzu x reader #sanzu x y/n #tokyorev smau #tokrev x reader #ran haitani x reader #haitani x reader

427 notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

The Brothers Have Been Multiplied!!!

Lucifer

Look. In his day-to-day life, Lucifer has always had to struggle with being one of, if not the only, capable person in the room. His brothers don't always try to help him and even if they do their help may just make things worse…

So this should be a dream come true right? Not only does he have competent help, they'll all also himself! Who better to trust his more difficult tasks to, right? Right??

Well… wrong. Unfortunately for as much as Lucifer is, there is one thing Lucifer and his clones just aren't… Good minions.

Complain as he might about his brothers, they know who's in charge. As it turns out five Lucifers in a room can only screw in a lightbulb after they agree on who's giving the orders and being the "original" means nothing at all!

Poor MC gets saddled with mediating the most confusing squabbles in their life between Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer, and OG Lucifer (the name dubbed to him by Levi)

So aside from this being a trainwreck for anyone not named Diavolo (who's thrilled to have so many Lucifers to talk to!), it's also a headache for himself too!

The next week is spent with Lucifer literally arguing with himself over who's doing what while the brothers all cower in their rooms to keep from incurring their wrath… Five angry Lucifers is a sentence for certain death, somebody hide Mammon…

Mammon

Lucifer's worst nightmare has been realized… Not only does he live in a world with one Mammon, now there's five! Five!!! Five Mammons!! The world isn't ready for this, no one is!

Of course, a pack of Mammons absolutely get into as much trouble as you think they would. The moment he realized there was more of him, the secondborn was already scheming up what kind of ploys he could pull off with five of himself...

Barbatos is upping the Castle security as we speak...

To his credit, you can't say that the Mammon-squad doesn't have hustle either. It may be either a blessing or a curse to go to five different stores and see a Mammon working there all at the same time, depending on your preference.

(Unfortunately for the brother and anyone with pickpocket-able wallets, it's mostly a curse).

Honestly, the biggest downside for poor MC is that they're all. so. clingy!!

If the MC wants even a minute to themselves, they'll be swatting away Mammon's like a swarm of mosquitos! Better learn an invisibility spell quick, or else their greedy companions will never, ever leave…

Leviathan

Holy cow, it's a gamer's dream come true!! Screw underwhelming AI and goodbye unreliable party members, he has all the team he needs right here!! They should go national or even pro!!!

Ah yes, Levi was truly elated for like, a couple days over this development. Why shouldn't he be? Having a whole herd of himself was a blast!

They're all great at gaming, they like the same things, they dislike the same stuff, and (most importantly) he's not any better or worse than any one of them! There’s nothing to get jealous over, right?

Well slap a big fat wrong on that because there's one thing to always get jealous over and their name is MC!

MC could come home from class one day to find five Levi's all wanting them to do five different things and NO THEY'RE NOT SHARING-

Unfortunately for Levi, the poor guy is so prone to jealousy that he can't even cope with it when he's jealous of himself…

It is at least a little entertaining to watch a pile of otakus fight themselves, it's kind of like watching a deadly game of high-stakes LARP-ing. Just less imaginary spells and more giant sea monsters popping out of nowhere… Someone grab some sponges…

Satan

Which is more likely to rule the world, one Solomon or five Satans...?

Having five Satans around is kind of terrifying… Just one can scheme up a storm and cause a lot of damage so add on four others and you got a recipe for a bad time…

If you're Lucifer, anyway.

In truth, the band of Satans are all about as independent as their original counterpart, so they don't often do things together as a group.

This can create a lot of deja vu scenarios where the MC will swear they've already passed by a Satan in the hallway… like three times.

Unfortunately they also get the urge for affection around the same time, so the MC may go a whole day without seeing them then suddenly get surrounded by needy and bickering Satans at all sides...

When the pack does work together, however, they're a well-oiled machine. Capable, logical, practical: basically everything the Lucfier-squad wish they could be without all the pesky pride in the way!

… until someone ticks them off and they become their own angry mob, but hey, still better than a pack of Mammons.

Asmodeus

… We all know an orgy is happening right? Like, it may not be the first thing he thinks of, but it's on the list. He'd never pass up the chance to selfcest when possible. Never.

That being said, the Asmos actually get sick of each other surprisingly quickly… Only a few days in and they'll be squabbling like crazy!

Why you might ask? Well not for any particular character flaw or anything - it actually boils down to the clothes… and makeup… and face… and attitude... and-

Basically, how in Diavolo's Hell is he supposed to stand out as the world's most singularly beautiful creature if there are FOUR OTHERS that keep stealing his style?? It's a nightmare!!

It didn't take long for the Asmos to start trying to find their own, completely distinct identities like Goth Asmo, Sporty Asmo, Hipster Asmo, etc… All claiming to be WAY better than the original, of course.

As entertaining as it may be to see a bunch of Asmos go through an identity crisis, he wants them GONE and he wants them gone NOW!! He's blowing up Solomon's phone every hour of the day until it gets fixed so better sit tight for a while…

Beelzebub

You know, this is actually one of those, "Worst Case Scenarios" that Lucifer and Dia drew up shortly after they had their Fall: what does one do with five Beels exactly...?

You can't possibly feed them all, at least not all at once… and letting any one get too hungry is asking for trouble.

Do you let them run through the city streets and chomp up its citizens like a game of Pacman? Scatter them to other realms and hope that they don't do a ton of damage? Pit them against each other in "There-Can-Only-Be-One"-style gladiatorial combat??

Well… there isn't really a good solution. Food is still a finite resource but the Beels TRY to be understanding and TRY not to push their luck at mealtime...

It has varying degrees of success, but hey, it's sweet that they're even trying...

Aside from the ever-present threat of being eaten out of House and realm, everybody kind of likes having so many Beels around. They're easy-going and helpful, which generally makes life easier for everyone and like… it's Beel. Who doesn't like hanging out with Beel?

The Beels even get along with each other so they regularly go to the gym and games together. Though it’s not super sportsmanly to switch out Beels between quarters in fangol, it's not technically against any rules either so the past few games have gone very well! (It's he'll, who even reads the rulebook anyway?)

Belphegor

It actually took a little while to notice that there were even two Belphies, let alone five…

MC would walk into a room and see a Belphie sleeping on the couch. Perfectly normal.

Then, they'd go into another a few minutes later to see Belphie napping a chair… A little off, but still okay.

Well sure, but in the next room he's also apparently on the floor too and….

Wait a minute.

Turns out five Belphies is either a breeze to deal with or absolute hell and there's no in between.

If they're all asleep, things are fine. Just artfully pile them on top of each other like dead bodies in a stealth game and move on.

If they're awake, then there's just way too much Belphie! And they play off each other in just the worse ways… The Anti-Lucifer League has never been so active, much to his brother's dismay...

This can be mitigated slightly by pawning a few off on Beel (who is more than happy to mind his duplicated twin) but that solution doesn't work forever…

Moreover, the MC can't sleep anywhere without them all gravitating towards them so even the shortest nap results in waking up under a dogpile of cow-men… It's a wonder they don't suffocate...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons

853 notes · View notes

andvys · 3 years

Text

I don’t need no other

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of cheating

pairing: Jasper Hale x reader

@joelsgeetar <3

Falling in love is supposed to be beautiful, it’s supposed to make you feel all warm and loved, excited but nervous at the same time as you keep falling more and more in love.

But for you, it’s sad and heartbreaking, you don’t feel warm, instead you feel cold and hurt as you watch him get close to someone else.

He is your friend, you shouldn't have expected him to reciprocate your feelings but the fleeting touches, the glances and sweet gestures like walking you to class or showing up at your house at 2 am in the morning just to convince you to go out with him to watch the stars with him gave you a sliver of hope, that he might’ve felt the same way but than you noticed how close him and Alice are.

Realization dawned on you and you were met with the disappointing fact that you aren't the one he wants, she was, at least that’s what you believed.

You knew that staying with him, keep being his friend would just hurt you more and more and would leave you with a broken heart in the end, so you tried to get over him by dating someone else, thinking it would distract you and keep you from falling further in love with him.

But it’s impossible.

You still stare at him whenever he sits across from you telling you stories, you still long for his touch whenever he feels close enough for you to intertwine your fingers with his, just like right now, you are sitting next to him on the bus on the ride back to Forks after the Field trip.

You felt sad and went back to the bus before everyone else did after you witnessed your boyfriend flirting with another girl, like he always did.

Jasper followed you back and comforted you as best as he could, although as bad as he felt for you, he couldn't help but be happy about your boyfriend messing up.

He hates knowing that you are with someone else, someone who is incapable of loving you the way he could love you, hold you, touch you, feel you.

You are his mate.

And he is madly in love with you, he just regrets not having done anything about it when you weren't dating anyone.

He knew you were his mate from the moment he laid eyes on you and while he pulled you into his life and got close to you his first response was to take a step back when he realized how in love he is with you. Jasper wants you so bad, he always did. He wants you forever. In his forever.

But when he realized what he would pull you into he stopped himself from doing anything about the love he felt for you, ignoring the unstoppable bond you both shared.

Alice told him that you and him are going to end up together no matter what, she told him you are meant for each other, you are meant to love one another and spend your life’s together.

It took him time to accept the life he would drag you into but once he did, you were dating someone else already and it crushed his heart.

He felt heartbroken and sad but when he realized why you started dating Liam, he understood.

He knows you don’t really love him, he feels the way you feel when you’re around him, he sees the way you look at him and the way you act around him.

He knows you are in love with him, not your boyfriend.

He hates Liam with a passion and can’t help but get excited at the thought of your boyfriend messing up and it seems like he has been doing that quiet a lot lately, which gave Jasper the perfect chance to get closer to you again.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt your head falling against his shoulder, he looks down at you noticing that you fell asleep, he smiles down at you before he puts his arm around your shoulder, holding you closer to him.

Looking back up, he finds Liam glaring at him, as he stares at your sleeping form cuddled into him.

Jasper can’t help but smirk at him as he feels how angry Liam has gotten at the way he is touching you. Liam always got mad and pissed off whenever he found Jasper touching you or helping you carry your books to class and Jasper loved nothing more than to show him that you aren't Liam’s girl.

You might be dating someone else but you are his girl.

“Babe, are you even listening?” Liam asks, waving his hand in front of your face, pulling you out of your thoughts as you stare at Jasper, who stares back at you from across the Cafeteria, an intense look in his eyes. If you didn't know any better, you’d say he is glaring at you.

Shaking your head, you break eye contact with Jasper and look back at your boyfriend, to see not only him staring at you but also his friends, as if they’re waiting for an answer or something.

You furrow your brows in confusion as you look at Liam, silently asking him what he asked you when you spaced out.

He rolled his eyes at you, “I asked if you still wanted to go the party?” he asked, sighing in annoyance, as he realized you weren't listening.

“What party?”

“The bonfire party.” the girl sitting next to Liam tells you, as she looks at you with an unreadable expression on her face.

It’s the same girl he has been flirting with on the field trip and now she is sitting next to him, closer than you are, as if she is dating him instead of you.

You aren't jealous but you are bothered, to see someone get close to someone who isn't single.

“yeah.. sure.” you mumble as you avert your eyes to look back to Jasper, finding him walk towards you.

Your eyes widen slightly, he usually never came to speak to you when you were around your boyfriend.

You note the smirk on his face as he sees the way your eyes widen in surprise to see him walk towards the table your boyfriend and his friends sit at.

“Darlin’.” he nods at you, with a smug smile on his face, feeling how flustered and shy you’d gotten “Can I speak to you?”

“S-sure.” you stutter out, glancing at your boyfriend, who glared at Jasper as if he wanted to drop him dead on the spot while Jasper just looked unimpressed as he stared back at him.

You got up and looked at Jasper, brushing your hand against his to pull him out of his thoughts as you saw anger flash in his eyes when he looked down at Liam.

His eyes met yours when he felt your hand touching his, calming him down instantly. You are the only one that has ever managed to calm him down, to pull him away from the anger he’s feeling.

“Let’s go.” he says, as he puts his hand on your lower back, walking out of the cafeteria with you but not without glancing back at Liam one more time, glaring at him with a slight smirk on his face.

You don’t know why you came here, your boyfriend ditched you the minute you got to the party, walking off with one of his friends, telling you that he’d be back in a few minutes and that was one hour ago.

You got sick of waiting for him and you felt angry at him too. He knows you hate going to public places, especially parties and yet he still leaves you alone.

You found yourself wishing that Jasper was here, he was the only one that managed to calm you down, even without using his powers. His presence was calming to you, he managed to make you feel safe and comforted.

Looking around one last time, you see Liam’s friends but not himself.

It isn't hard to figure out where he is or who he is with but you ignore that thought and drink the last sip of your beer before leaving the empty bottle on the table and decide to go home.

The bonfire party was held by a beautiful waterfall, in the forest. Usually you’d be too afraid to walk alone through the woods at night but right now you are too angry to pay attention to any weird noises around you as you walk further and further away from loud chatter and music.

Jasper would have never left alone and he would never let you walk alone in the dark either.

A weird noise pulls you out of your thoughts as you stop dead in your tracks, looking around you, you try to see if there is anything or anyone around you but it’s hard to see, the moon being the only source of light in the dark forest.

Your heart begins to race as you hear a branch snapping somewhere close to you followed by a loud whimper.

“Fuck..” you mumble, closing your eyes you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as you felt the panic rising in your chest.

You know there can be worse things than animals out here so you feel more than afraid but you start walking towards the sound nonetheless, telling yourself that someone might need your help.

The whimpers getting louder the closer you get and so does your heartbeat, you prepare for the worst as you walk around a big oak tree to see what there is but the sight you are met with is what you least expected, you immediately retract, not wanting to be seen by your boyfriend who had the same girl that is always around him pinned against one of the trees, kissing her neck while one of his hands tugged at her shirt.

Scrunching your face up in disgust, the rising panic disappeared and was replaced by anger and rage as you turn back and walk away from that scene, making sure to get away as quickly as possible.

Your mind was racing as you walked home, not even realizing that you are in front of your house already until you hear his concerned voice.

Looking up, you find Jasper sitting on the stairs of your front porch, watching you in concern as he feels the rage and anger in you along with a feeling of betrayal and disgust.

He knows it has something to do with your boyfriend, there’s nothing else that would get you this angry.

“What’s wrong Darlin’?” he asks, concerned as he gets up, walking towards you he takes your face in his hands, gently, tilting your head up to look at him.

Angry tears roll down your cheeks as you meet his eyes, shaking your head, indicating that you don’t want to talk about it as you close your eyes and let the tears flow down your face.

He looks down at you in sadness, he hates seeing you this way, he sighs as he pulls you into him, hugging your head to his chest as he lets you cry, you cling to him, wanting to feel him right now. You stay like that for a while, just enjoying his touch and the feeling he always left you with.

“I saw him with another girl.” you whisper as grip him tighter. “I don’t ever want to see him again.”

He furrows his brows, feeling anger and rage towards your boyfriend until he processes the second sentence and his anger turns into something else, something that almost makes him feel bad but he can’t help it, he can’t help but feel relieved.

He waited all this time for you to realize what kind of a person Liam really is.

He waited for so long for you to realize that you don’t belong to anyone else but him.

You are his mate, you don’t know it yet but you are.

You furrow your brows when you don’t hear him say anything, pulling away from the hug you stare up at him to find him look very satisfied with this revelation, your eyes meet his as you look at him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Darlin’.” he starts “but it was about time for you to realize what kind of a person he is.” he says as his hands drop to his sides when you take a step back from him.

Of course, he would be relieved to hear that you are done with your boyfriend. Jasper never liked him but being happy about it? That was just cruel.

“You don’t belong to him.” he tells you “You belong to me.”

You look at him in disbelief, not understanding where this side of him was coming from. You have never heard him talk this way before.

“Wh-what?” you ask, angrily.

His words reminding you of how Liam always talks to you, acting controlling and demanding, you thought you'd find comfort in Jasper but instead he is adding fuel into the fire.

“You are my mate, you are supposed to belong to me not to him.” he says, possessively, acting like you are some price instead of an actual person.

'Mates?’

Is that supposed to comfort you? If it is, it’s not working, if anything it makes you feel even more angry.

All you see is red as you realize how satisfied and happy he looks. Feeling even more betrayed, he is the only person you truly feel comfortable and safe with and yet he is making you feel anything but it as you feel tears welling up in your eyes, did he get off on seeing you in pain?

You shake your head as you wipe your tears away in anger, not wanting to be around him anymore, you go to walk past him but he stops you by grabbing your arm gently.

You don’t know what came over you but when he went to grab you all you saw was Liam’s face and the way he always grabbed your upper arm to stop you from leaving. Before you know it your palm meets his cheek, sending a slap across his face that barely seems to faze him.

“Mates!?” you scoff in disbelief as you storm past him, not even giving him a chance to respond before you walk inside and slam the door shut.

Walking into your room, you close the door quietly, making sure you don’t wake anyone up in the house. Taking a deep breath, you try to calm yourself down before turning around, eyes widening as you jump back when you see someone standing in your room, almost yelping if it wasn't for a cold hand covering your mouth as he steps closer to you, sighing in relief when you see it’s just Jasper.

“That wasn’t very nice, Darlin’.” he says in a low voice, scanning your face in a dangerous way, his eyes darken as he stares down at you, sending shivers down your spine.

Your eyes widen at the way he’s staring at you, standing so close to you with his hand covering your mouth as he silently warns you not to try anything again.

“Are you gonna slap me again?” he asks, looking at you with a challenging look in his eyes.

Shaking your head, you get nervous, you have never seen this side of Jasper before. The slightly angry, intimidating stare in his eyes makes you feel weak in the knees.

Removing his hand from your mouth, he rests them on the wall on each sides of your face, trapping you between him and the wall.

You feel your heart beginning to race when he doesn't say anything and just stares at you for a while, swallowing nervously, as you kept your gaze on him.

“I’m sorry..” you whisper, afraid to say more after angering him.

“It’s fine.” he chuckles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear “I should explain some things to you.” he wasn't mad at you for slapping him, he was irritated but not mad “don’t slap me again.” he warns you, amusement written in his eyes.

“You are my mate, we share a bond, that’s why you and I feel so connected.” he tells you, watching your reaction, closely.

You furrow your brows, looking at him in confusion, you have never heard of anything like that, he continued explaining more about it to you, making you understand more about it as you started to get why you always felt that way around him.

“H-How do you know it?” you ask him, nervously, blushing slightly.

“I feel it, you feel it too.” he said, stroking your cheek with his thumb, leaving your skin tingling under his touch “I want you and I know you want me too.”

Closing your eyes, you let yourself enjoy his touch, feeling him getting closer to you.

Cold lips touch your warm cheek, placing a kiss on the spot before he leans in “It’s up to you now, Darlin’.” he whispered before he lets go of you.

Opening your eyes, you find your room empty, he left, the only sign of him being here was the window he left open.

Putting your hand up towards your face, you touch spot that he kissed, asking yourself if it was real or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you but your skin still tingled from where he touched it.

You are so overwhelmed with emotions, the bad ones mixed with the good ones.

He made you forget about what happened at the bonfire.

He is all you ever wanted and now that you know that he wants you just as much as you want him, you feel more than overwhelmed with every single emotion.

‘It’s up to you now, Darlin’

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale imagines #jasper hale fluff #jasper hale angst #twilight imagine #twilight fluff #twilight angst

663 notes · View notes