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a-killer-obsession · 5 months ago

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Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 3 - Snake

Step 2: Get free of your cell.

WC: 5.5k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

Heat did in fact bring you a warm blanket and clothes, in fact he brought you several of his own blankets, which smelt of weed and musk, as well as a pillow, a long sleeved shirt that was practically a dress on you, and sweatpants you had to tie as tight as they would go to get them to stay up. He even brought you a set of fuzzy socks and a stuffed animal that looked something like a snake but with horns. You were far more comfortable in the brig now, even if there were very questionable stains on your mattress, you were at least able to stack the two mattresses in your cell and use one of the blankets as somewhat of a sheet. Heat didn't make any further sexual advances on you, you got the sense he was nervous about getting caught, though he did give you soft kisses through the bars whenever he came to visit, which you happily accepted.

You didn't see much of other top dogs, usually your food was brought down once a day by a random crewmate, seemingly whoever drew the short straw that day. It wasn't a lot of food, but Heat would sneak you more when he could. It was clear that you had him on your side, always checking if you were okay, even if he seemed highly anxious about being caught talking to you. Unbeknownst to you, someone had in fact noticed his visits, and you now found yourself face to face with Wire, who sat against the edge of the desk across from your cell, spinning his trident on its base idly.

“You need to stop taking advantage of Heat,” he told you plainly.

“I'm not taking advantage of him,” you huffed, hugging the stuffed animal he'd given you to your chest. Wire raised an eyebrow at the toy, it was obvious to him where you got it. The room stunk of Heat, his scent was on your clothes, your blankets, your skin. “I genuinely like Heat, sue me. It's not my fault he's the only one who sees I'm no danger to anyone.”

Wire made a tsk sound and stood, only needing a few strides of his long legs to come to a stop in front of your cell. “Show me your wrists,” he ordered with a bored expression.

You raised a brow at the sudden request but obediently put down your stuffed animal, walking in front of Wire and holding up your arms through the bars for him. He took your wrist in his large hand and turned it too and fro, like he was looking for something, furrowing his brows as he apparently didn't find it. He let your arms drop again and you stood patiently, waiting for him to say something.

“What are you, and how did you get here?” he asked, “You're not getting out of here until Kid gets answers, and he's getting impatient”

“I already told you, I don't know how I got here,” you huffed, “I was in my own world, where all this shit was fiction, I got hit by a bus, I hit your mast. That's the entire truth of it. What do you want from me, a three thousand word essay about the world I'm from?”

“Hmm,” Wire squinted at you discerningly, taking a few steps back and returning to spinning his trident idly.

“I'm telling you the truth, I swear,” you pleaded, “I can prove it when we get to Sabaody, I can tell you what'll happen there, without any devil fruit helping me know. I don't have any sort of foresight, I just read it in the work of fiction in my own world. I have other proof too, I know about Victoria, and the four gangs on your home island in the South Blue, why Kid and Killer don't like curry udon. I swear on my life, I'm telling the truth. There's no reason for me to lie, I have nowhere else to go and no reason to harm anyone on this ship.”

“Kil? What do you think?” Wire said without turning away from you. You let out a surprised squeak as Killer emerged from the door, seemingly having been standing there quietly for who knows how long.

“She stinks of fear, but I don't think she's lying,” he replied, standing next to Wire with crossed arms.

“Kil, I'm sorry about the lipstick thing, I-” you started, before he raised a hand and cut you off.

“Save it, it's whatever,” he tutted, “but tell anyone else and you'll be begging for death.”

“I'd never tell anyone, I swear,” you replied, holding the bars as best you could with your bound hands. “I swear I'd never betray anyone on this crew. I want to be here, I do, I promise. Just let me out of here, I'll prove you can trust me.”

“Mm,” Killer hummed, before turning and leaving without another word, an equally silent Wire in tow, leaving you confused and fearful of your future on this ship. You curled back up in bed, hugging your stuffie close to your chest, trying your best not to cry.

“Wanna explain why you've been scenting her, Heat?” Killer accused, sitting at the round table in the navigation room with the other three commanders.

“You did what?” Kid growled, “what, she suck your dick or something? Why are you making a claim on her?”

“No… yes…” Heat admitted, “she's nice okay? She seemed so genuine, and she asked for a blanket that smelt like me, ask her yourself. She wanted me to scent her”

“So she did suck your dick?” Kid laughed, “you're as weak to a woman as ever, Heat. Don't think she's gonna let you claim her just because she smells like you.”

“It's not like that,” Heat huffed, “besides, she practically extended an invitation for any of us to fuck her. God forbid I do something as innocent as scent her.”

“You know full well it's not innocent,” Wire jeered, “but I do agree that she seems to be genuine.”

“So what, we're believing this other world bullshit?” Kid asked.

“The iron isn't burning her wrists, and she had no problem sticking her arm outside of the cage barrier,” Wire noted, “I don't think she's a witch or a demon. We know she doesn't have a devil fruit. I don't think there's any other good explanations for how she got here or how she knows so much about us”

“At the very least, she seems to believe it's the truth,” Killer added, “and she hasn't shown any aggression towards the crew. I don't know if we have any reason to keep her locked up. If what she's saying is true, then she has insider information on our future that could prove useful. At the very least she's more useful to us alive.”

“I don't trust her,” Kid grumbled, “I'll probably still fuck her, but I don't trust her.”

“So let me take on the responsibility,” Heat suggested, “I'll keep an eye on her”

“You just wanna get her in your bed so you can get more scent on her,” Wire rolled his eyes, “I saw the stuffed animal, already bringing her courting gifts, I know you're just itching to get her in your hoard”

“Shut up!” Heat huffed, a vibrant red flushing on his face, “you're just jealous she didn't say she dreams about you a lot! It's not my fault she likes me better!”

“Snake,” Wire spat.

“Bull-headed cunt!” Heat shouted back.

“Will you knuckleheads shut the fuck up and let me think?” Kid growled. Wire and Heat quickly quietened down, a slight blush still evident on Heat's cheeks as he considered adding you to his treasure collection. “Heat, you can have your whore, but if she puts one foot out of place I'll crush her fucking skull. And if I catch you acting all possessive I'm taking your toy away, she ain't yours, don't let her get in your head. She has till Sabody to prove herself, if she turns out to be full of shit we'll sell her to an auction house while we're there. At least then we'll get back what we spent feeding the bitch”

“Aye aye captain,” Heat stood excitedly, eager to get you out of the cell.

“Oi, Heat,” Killer barked before Heat had a chance to leave, “I know you know what I'm about to say; don't fucking try it, understand? Like Kid said, she's not yours to claim, so don't fucking try it.”

Heat knew exactly what Killer was referring to and grumbled in annoyance. “I wasn't gonna…” he mumbled like a scolded child.

“Oh come off it, like you haven't had a clutch ready to go since she came on board,” Killer huffed, “I can smell it from here, don't fucking try it.”

“Fine! Whatever!” Heat yelled.

“And take her to House tomorrow,” he continued, “if you're gonna make her your fucktoy you better not get her knocked up the old fashioned way either. And have her tested, if she's so desperate to be the ship whore she better be fuckin’ clean.”

“Roger that,” Heat grumbled, almost slamming the door behind him as he hurried out of the navigation room.

“He's gonna try it,” Wire noted.

“Hundred berri he tries it in less than two weeks,” Kid added.

“One week,” Wire replied.

“One month,” Killer bet, having at least a tiny bit more confidence in Heat's ability to hold off.

You heard Heat's hurried footsteps before you saw him, the creaking of the ladder-stairs as he descended them and practically skipped into the room. “Someone's got a pep in their step today,” you noted, “come for another taste or what?”

“Even better!” Heat smiled as he fumbled with the keys on his belt, “Kid said you can come out, just gotta stay by my side so I can keep an eye on ya”

“Oh, okay!” You stood up quickly, gathering up your blankets and stuffie, but not yet picking them up since you still had cuffs on, “oh, does that mean I'll be staying with you?”

“Yup!” Heat replied a little too eagerly, opening the cell door and fiddling with the keys again to find the one for your restraints. You held up your wrists for him and he removed the cuffs, letting you properly stretch your arms for the first time in several days. Heat grabbed the blankets and bundled them up in his arms, leaving you to grab the pillow and stuffed snake thing. “Come on, I'll show you my room!” He said excitedly.

You followed him obediently as he led you back up to the main deck, unsurprisingly followed by multiple sets of curious eyes, though this time a few of them were noticeably scrunching their noses, like they'd caught a bad smell. You chalked it up to having had no shower in what must have been a week, and made a mental note to ask Heat for a chance to bathe. He led you up two flights of external stairs, one that led to the covered area that held the cannons, the second up to the stern castle, which looked a lot like an actual castle. Strangely, despite being on a mostly wooden ship, the stern castle was made of light grey brickwork, with green, torn fabric draped over the slightly sloped roof section, and arched, ornate windows scattered around the main floor. The entire stern castle was surrounded in a thin deck, with a single arched door at the front leading inside. You followed Heat in, finding yourself in a small hall with a single door and staircase to your left, and more doors to the right as the hall bent around a central section in a U shape, presumably circling the base of the mizzenmast that protruded from the stern castle. There was also an exceptionally tall ladder directly in line with the entry door that disappeared into the ceiling, which Heat explained cut through the next floor and went all the way to the deck on top of the stern castle.

Heat opened the first door on the right, that same familiar scent of weed and musk you'd grown accustomed to hitting you like a truck. The room was a little dark, with fabric pinned over the windows like permanently shut curtains, blocking out any daylight from entering. He made no move to turn on an overhead light, but there was a string of fairy lights hung around the entire circumference of the room, towards the top of the walls, that gave the room a soft, romantic lighting. The room was messy, with a large bed that seemed like a king size but longer, presumably to account for his height, pushed against the wall the door was on. Opposite it was a small indoor greenhouse setup, with several shelves holding what you assumed to be weed plants behind frosted plastic, condensation making the plastic wet on the inside. There was a short set of drawers to your left, and a side table with a bong on it next to the bed, but other than that, what surprised you the most about the room was the sheer amount of stuffed animals.

They were everywhere, littering every corner and every surface in tall stacks, stuffies of every size and shape, lining the long side of his bed along the wall and stacked in a tall pile in the corner of it. It was frankly fucking adorable, and you couldn't help but let a little giggle out. You threw yourself on the bed, letting the mountain of stuffies all fall on you and cover you in a great avalanche, a riot of giggles coming from under the pile as you kicked your feet gleefully. If you'd been able to see Heat's face, you would have known you'd made a mistake in being so enthusiastic. You'd unknowingly just made something possessive click in his brain, compounding yourself into his prized hoard, making yourself one of his treasures.

His form shifted before he could stop himself, legs changing to a long tail, covered in dark dusty pink scales, wrapped with deep red-brown thorn line markings, much like his tattoos. His canines grew to fangs, his nails to sharp black claws, and from his hair emerged two large horns that curled slightly inwards at the ends, black at the base then transitioning to dusty pink and bright fushia at the tips. The end of this tail flicked and shut the door, the sound prompting you to finally emerge from the mountain of stuffed animals with a final laugh that was cut short as you took sight of him.

Raised up on his tail, he very nearly hit the tall ceiling, looming over you as he slithered closer. Your first instinct was to scream, but for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to do it, too enamoured with the way his scales were almost iridescent where the light caught them. Your back was forced flat to the bed as he moved to tower over you, the base of his tail pressed between your legs as his arms supported himself on either side of your torso, your chest heaving with half fearful, half aroused breaths.

“You okay?” He asked curiously, raising a brow as he smelt your fear scenting the air, his senses elevated in this form. “You're acting like you've never seen a Wyrm. Do you not have my kind where you come from?”

“No, we most certainly do not,” you breathed heavily, “a …wyrm, you said? Like a dragon?”

“I'm surprised, most people would say ‘like a snake?’, which is frankly highly offensive,” he joked, “did the manga in your world not say I was a wyrm?”

“No but… it also never explained how you breathed fire,” you admitted, your eyes travelling down now to the base of his tail, noticing the slit between the scales where his dick would usually be. It made sense, Heat was not a character a lot was known about, and the world of One Piece held all sorts of strange species. It explained why he could breathe fire, though there was the chance still that this was a zoan type devil fruit. The way he talked about it made it sound like a somewhat common thing here, so perhaps it was just a species not really shown in the manga. Your eyes travelled again and noticed his fangs and his pretty horns, and you couldn't help but reach up and touch the pink tips, wondering if they were as sharp as they looked. Not sharp enough to draw blood, you discovered, but they would certainly hurt if he headbutted someone. “So pretty,” you mused. You understood now what the stuffie he'd lent you was, and it was all the more adorable that he'd given you one that looked like him.

“You're not afraid of me like this?” He asked hesitantly. Even those familiar with his kind tended to be anxious around him like this, he was large and dangerous looking, it was a natural response.

“Should I be?” You replied plainly, fiddling with the strings on his corset style top. He lifted himself to remove it, and you could see now that his nipples were pierced, which didn't surprise you in the least. You openly ogled his bare torso, so very well sculpted, running your hand down the center of his chest.

“You're part of my hoard now, I'm only ever gonna protect you,” he said softly, leaning down and brushing his nose against the crook of your neck. You didn't mean to but a quiet whimper escaped you as his fangs brushed against your pulse point, the threat of his bite making you a little horny. He could smell it, your growing arousal, and made a deep rumbling sound that vibrated in his chest, entirely pleased at the sweet smell that now overwhelmed the previous scent of fear. He looked and sounded dangerous, but it only added to his allure, and you couldn't help but roll your hips towards him, dragging your core against his tail with a needy whine. You knew what you were, you knew you had secret desires to fuck monsters, you'd seen parts of the internet your parents would disown you for. This strange new form catered so well to those primal desires, arousal building quickly as you watched the light catch against his fangs. The growling sounded again, this time accompanied by movement between your legs. You pushed him off you slightly to look, eyes widening as you watched two vibrantly pink appendages, tapered to dull points and lined along the undersides with bumps, emerge from the slit on his tail. You realised with a gasp what you were looking at. Two of them, oh fuck there were two of them. This world was the fucking best, you should have gotten hit by a bus years ago.

“Is this okay?” He asked, watching you stare at his two cocks, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. He didn't often show this form, let alone to women he hoped to bed.

“Heat, I mean this in the most genuine way possible,” you replied, fire pooling at your core, “fuck me, please”

“Are.. are you sure?” He asked, sitting back on his tail, feeling a little unsure of himself. Once again his low self-esteem told him this was a trick, he'd always had trouble accepting compliments at face value, especially since receiving his Glasgow smile.

“Why would I not be?” You asked him, cupping his face and running a thumb over his scarred cheek, he looked as though he might cry any moment. Sweet soft boy, this was why you loved Heat so much. You couldn't understand his unease though; he was massive, ripped with muscles, incredibly cool and scary in a way that made you hot with those fangs and horns. His tail was beautiful, you wanted to touch it, not to mention his two cocks that looked even thicker and longer than his human dick. Why would you not want him? “Heat, are you okay? You seem nervous. Am I being too forward?”

“It's just… I don't usually… show this side of myself to women,” he admitted, “unless I'm paying them… I'm scary enough as it is in my human form”

“Oh Heat,” you cooed, understanding now his anxiety, “you're beautiful, and incredibly sexy. Can I touch you?”

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, laying back against the mattress next to you as you guided him to relax with gentle motions. You sat up to reach more of him, running your finger down his well sculpted abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind on his skin until your hand met the spot where his scales began. The scales were smoother than you expected, even if you moved against the grain you didn't catch the edges of the tightly knit scales, though there was a pleasant bumpiness to them. You wondered how it would feel to slide against them, feeling yourself grow wetter at the thought.

He whimpered a little as your hand ran down his tail, feeling the smooth scales under your palm, considerably hotter to the touch than you expected. You wondered if he'd ever been touched like this; if he'd only ever been with women in this form when they were paid, perhaps nobody had ever taken the time to truly explore this form. You moved slowly, running your hands over his entire tail, hearing his small whines as you played with the tapered tip that flicked a little as you touched it. Curiously you brought it to your mouth, and he groaned as you ran your tongue over it, draping an arm over his face as he flushed bright pink.

“Ah- ah- sensitive-” he whined, the tip of his tail almost vibrating in your hand. You took it in your mouth and he gasped, his chest heaving as you sucked on the tip of his tail. He was breathing heavily as you let him go, and you stripped off your clothes before straddling his tail, pressing your wet core against his scales. “You can- you can ride me if you want,” he said shyly through heavy breaths.

“Do you want me to ride you, Heat?” You asked mischievously, “Do you want me to use your tail however I like?”

“Yes, yes,” he whined, “use me however you want princess, please”

You shuffled to get a little more comfortable before you pressed down hard and began to grind against him, the strange new texture feeling surprisingly good against your cunt, slick transfering to his tail and lubricating your movements and you rolled your hips against him. You immediately struggled to hold back your moans, having been throbbing with need at the mere sight of those two proud cocks that sat in front of you and the way he whimpered at every delicate touch you gave him, immensely relieved at finally getting some much needed friction. He sat up a little, supporting himself with one hand while the other held your hip, helping you find more pressure as you grinded on him. Heat's eyes were wide as he watched you enjoy his tail, never in his life had anyone used him in this way, your juices glistening against his iridescent scales as the wet patch grew larger with every roll. His cocks were twitching as he watched you, his eyes almost black from how blown out his pupils were. Precum leaked from his cocks just watching you pleasure yourself with his body. Heat thought you looked unbearably beautiful like that, lost in your pleasure on top of his tail, a shining jewel worthy of his collection. Never had he thought a woman would accept him like this, and yet somehow you seemed turned on by it, a fact he couldn't wrap his head around but certainly wasn't complaining about.

“Hnng, feels good~” you mewled, grinding faster as you felt that coil in your abdomen begin to tighten. Just having the opportunity to play with a beast like Heat was making you hotter, his tail slapping excitedly against the mattress behind you as your orgasm drew close. You looked down at his two cocks, twitching with need in front of you, noticing now the way the piercings on his human form seemed split between them, with two ladders in the higher shaft, and the remaining ladder and tip on the lower, though being that he no longer had defined heads to his cocks, the tip piercing was considerably lower down his shaft. There were swollen bumps along the underside of each that you had no doubt would feel incredible inside you, the bases of each shaft incredibly thick and tapering to the pointed tips, comparable to tentacles. Precum beaded at the tips and rolled down the undersides, your eyes following the beads as they travelled, making you unconsciously lick your lips. They were not unlike the dildo you had back home, and your moans grew harsh just looking at them and considering what one would feel like inside you, knowing you surely couldn't take both, and suddenly your coil was snapping violently, gushing your release over his tail and shaking on top of him as you struggled to stay upright.

You gave him a crooked, fucked out smile as his tail supported your back, still twitching a little in the afterglow of your orgasm. You slid yourself backwards, leaving a wet trail along his tail as you shuffled down it, until you were far back enough to lean down and run a tongue against his lower cock, taking the other in your hand. They were almost scaldingly hot to the touch, but it didn't deter you from running your tongue up one then the other, playing with them with your tongue, like a greedy child with two icecreams.

“They're so big,” you purred, “how am I gonna fit them inside me?”

“I can warm you up,” he offered, “with.. um.. with my tail. If you want.” He'd always wanted to penetrate someone with his tail, but given how scared people usually were he hadn't ever dared to suggest it. He had a feeling though, given your enthusiasm for this form, that perhaps you would be willing.

You looked up at him wide eyed, was he really offering to fuck you with his tail? “Oh fuck yes,” you replied eagerly, arching your back so your pussy was more exposed behind you. You felt the movement underneath you as his tail curled and shifted, until the tip was brushing against your bare cunt. “Hnng, yes, fuck. Fuck me with your tail Heat~”

You both whined as his tail rubbed against your pussy, searching for the entrance, successfully finding it and sliding in. Heat was slow and careful, he'd never tried this before but he knew his tail was sensitive, so he'd wanted to try this for a while. It didn't feel as good as getting his dick wet, but it was pleasant and sent shivers through him as he felt your gummy walls squeezing around him. You licked at the tips of his cocks, holding them together to take both ends into your mouth at once, moaning around them as his tail pressed in further and began to stretch your cunt, thrusting in and out slowly. You switched your focus to one cock, still servicing the other with your hand, bobbing your head at the same pace as his tail was pumping into you. You couldn't hope to take all of him in this form, his girth far too much at the base for your lips, but you could get a good two thirds in before the corners of your mouth stung too much from the stretch.

He pushed his tail into you further, getting it close to the girth of his cock, getting you used to the stretch. He didn't want to get you entirely stretched out, he wanted to feel your tight cunt struggling to take him when you finally sunk down on him. His tail curled inside you, focusing on your sweet spots, making you vibrate his dick with your sweet moans until you let his cock go with a pop. “Ahh, gonna cum, fuck,” you whined, your hands pumping his two cocks in a messy unfocused pattern as he fucked you faster and a second orgasm ripped through you, juices dripping down Heat's tail.

“Want- want your cock,” you whimpered, practically collapsing on him. You had hoped to ride him while you held those pretty horns but you simply didn't have it in you anymore, your legs turned to jelly and shaking.

Heat rolled you gently until your back was against the mattress, your thighs wrapping around him as he laid on top of you, hooking your ankles together behind where his ass would be. You felt his cocks heavy against your abdomen as he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen, his delicate human treasure. “Please,” you whined, feeling unbearably empty without his tail in you.

“Shh, I'm gonna give you what you want, my jewel,” he cooed, reaching between your bodies to position his lower cock, the thin tip easily sliding inside as the higher one laid against your clit. You took most of him with ease, his tail having prepared you well, until he began to reach the thickest part of his cock and your cunt began to strain against the stretch. Heat groaned as he bullied himself into you, whispering praises as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix and making you wince. He withdrew a little, not wanting to hurt you, until the pain melted from your face.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he groaned, sliding back out slowly and pushing back in fast, making you practically scream. He made harsh thrusts, unable to restrain himself now that he was buried in your heat, grunting with each deep slide of his cock, the additional stimulation of his higher cock grinding against your clit with every thrust making you moan loud enough for the whole ship to hear. “Good girl, fuck, good girl,” Heat grunted, the wet squelch of his cock in your soaked cunt filling the small room. “Sweet little treasure, all mine, all fucking mine,” he growled, his speed picking up as his fingers left bruises on your hips, claws sinking in and pricking your skin. “So pretty, my jewel.”

“Ah, Heat, so good, so good,” you whined, making your own marks on him as your fingernails dug into his back. The way the base of his cock pressed hard against your g-spot with every deep thrust was making your coil pull tight again, a fucked out smile spread on your face and your mind entirely lost to the pleasure Heat was giving you. He felt your pussy flutter around him, incredibly aroused as he saw that grin on your face and the way your eyes were rolling, your tits bouncing with each thrust.

“Ahh fuck, gonna cum,” Heat whined, his pace turning desperate and erratic as he got lost watching your breasts bouncing, “so pretty, so fucking pretty, gonna cum”

“I wanna- I wanna be covered in it,” you moaned, reaching down to jerk off the cock that wasn't inside you. He made a sharp whine as you pumped him fast, your walls clamping down around him giving him the final push he needed to finish, doing his best to work you through your orgasm before he pulled out and held his cocks together, jerking himself off till impossibly hot cum shot out in ropes across your abdomen and breasts, your thighs squeezing tight around him as your body shook.

Heat collapsed next to you, his cocks slowly retreating back into his slit as you both panted hard. Your stomach was coated in his seed and you couldn't help but run your fingers through it, playing with it while your clit throbbed from overstimulation. “So hot,” you sighed between heavy breaths, “that felt so fucking good.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it, my treasure,” Heat purred, rolling to his side and intertwining his tail with your legs. Heat felt unbelievably accepted and vulnerable in this moment, having never experienced such pleasures with a woman in his true form. He felt wholly accepted, the anxiety and fear of rejection he felt at the start entirely wiped away. “We should get you cleaned up though”

“Mmm, I could do with a shower,” you mused, making circles in the hot cum on your stomach with your index finger. Heat near purred at the way you willingly rubbed his scent into you by playing with his cum, only further adding to his possessiveness.

[Next Chapter]

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ggsbooks123 · 1 year ago

Text

Memories — part two of memory garden

warning: gets pretty angsty here and character deaths 😓 mentions of suicide (jude bby is guilt ridden)

summary: you don’t know how much longer you can take it. The thoughts eating away at you telling you to kill someone in your heart you knew was pure good… but what happens when the voices turn on you?

a lil disclaimer yall i mixed cressidas name with cresta without thinking and realised half way through… i couldn’t be bothered to go back and fix it so i continued using it 😭 cresta is cressida!

— —

The next morning I woke up to Boggs shaking me and asked me to step outside, the sun was only just making its ascent.

I notice my restraint is off, Boggs must have taken them off before waking me up, I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why he had done it, I was in no right mind.

My eyes lifted at the doorway, Peeta was right there… No. I shook my head, following Boggs out the door.

He stood gazing over the destruction of the city, I tightened my fist when the echo of a voice tried to break through. Not now. This was the outcome of war and nothing I did to them now would prevent this. But the voices never agreed.

“Wanted to check how you were feeling after your first night” He explained once I joined him at his side, it was nice that he cared.

I shrug, glancing back over my shoulder “I don’t think it’s a good idea that i’m here, I was getting help back at the district… I don’t know why i’m here” I definitely didnt think it was a good idea, Coin had sent me here knowing i was far from recovery.

“Coin always has a reason” Boggs muttered like he’d been reading my thoughts “I think she has no use for Katniss and Peeta anymore-“ He eyes filled in the blanks his words didn’t…

“She sent me to kill them” I whisper back realisation smacking into, I was a weapon, again. But it wasn’t the capital this time, it was the rebellion.

When will i be free?

The voice sounds almost sad and I realise that it’s not a voice, it’s my own thoughts. My own depressing and given up thoughts.

“She can try and turn you into some psycho killer but the people in that room care about you, even if you don’t see it. So do I, the three of you kids have seen more hell than anyone deserves” Boggs explains, finally turning from the city to face me. “You’re just kids”

I frown, glancing down at my hands. Kids. We weren’t even eighteen years old, it was something that defined so much about someone and id forgotten.

“Thank you” I whisper, movement from inside alerts me and I reach for my gun, what if Peeta took this distraction as an opportunity but then Katniss stepped out, my heart didn’t slow but my hands dropped.

“What’re you doing out here so early?” Katniss asked stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance, my hand clenched.

She’s with Peeta, they will kill us all. The desire to kill Katniss was easier to push down but when it came to Peeta is was a thirst for blood like no other.

I shake my head, not hearing what Boggs responded with.

“How are things?” Boggs doesn’t respond to this question so I glance up and see they both have their attentions on me.

How are things? I wanted to scoff, but I knew that I was an accident waiting to happen, they didn’t know what would set me off. Apparently just saying how are things is one example. I shake my head and I notice the flash of concern.

“I can only get better right?” I spit, I don’t mean for it come out like that but she flinches and Boggs places his hand on her shoulder.

I feel it, my hand moving on its own before my right slapped down on it, instantly both their eyes slammed to me and without further explanation i declare, “We need to put my restraint back on”

And with that Katniss went inside and woke the others and Boggs cuffed me again.

Finnick was the first to step out, alongside a girl with a vines blooming flowers across the left half of her shaved head “Jude, I wanted you to meet Cresta, she’d one of the directors for this whole thing”

I smiled lightly at her, hoping to be polite since she no doubt had to stay up for an hour and watch me last night. “Nice to meet you, are you from the Capitol?”

She nods, “Do I give off that capitol ignorance?” She asked as a joke but in her eyes I could tell she was pleading I said no which made me smile slightly wider. I liked her.

“No, no. I was just asking didn’t mean to hit right on the money” I shrugged, “Maybe after this I could read palms?” I raise an eyebrow at Finnick who seems to just be smiling at me. “What?”

“Nothing, just glad you’re finally started talking about an after this” And with that Cresta and him left me, sending my mind reeling.

After…

— —

The next few days were especially hard, we had to travel a few streets at a time due to these devices called pods, the game makers had created them, no death should be boring apparently.

One of the pods had contained thousands upon thousands of snakes, luckily they seemed to stop at a certain point. Just like in the games except we could activate them from a distance.

Some of the other pods though, made it harder to remember where I was and who my friends are. Boggs had set off the last pod, four explosions had destroyed the road before them and each explosive made unbidden thoughts enter my head.

Now we were slowly making our way through the Capital streets, it seemed bizarre to think that it was once luxury.

“How’re you feeling?” His voice breaks through everything, and my neck snaps to him as I take a step back, bumping into Finnick who seems to have noticed why and is already guiding me to walk again.

Peeta frowns, turning away for a moment before looking back at me “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Maybe he was trying to be nice, because we both knew it hadn’t been the reason.

“It’s- It’s okay. Really. Just a lot going on, and I think I’m feeling better. The questions that i’m asking help” I respond, trying to stay calm and push the voices away, though they’re not really there at the moment.

He seems to perk at my words before shooting over his shoulder “Ask one now, can’t hurt” I blow a breath, rattling through my brain for anything and then it clicked.

We’re back in the 75th Hunger Games, it’s a couple days in and we look utterly spent, I don’t even look like i’m making my next five steps.

I try to remember when this was, must’ve been right before the arena been destroyed, Peeta and I had run into the Careers and I’d paid with three strikes to my chest, Peeta not much better off.

The thought of the wounds made me reach for my chest, but they were gone. Magically healed by the Capital just to be tortured mentally.

I watch myself trip slightly but Peetas there in an instant, arm looping around my waist, holding me for dear life.

It looked so natural. Right. Together, his eyes never leaving me, concern dripping with every blink.

I hear him whisper like he’s next to me “We’re almost at the beach alright, just a little further” I can feel the desperation in his words, he needed me to make it.

I remember the exhaustion now, the utter fatigue I felt. The thought to close my eyes was over bearing but I couldn’t let Peeta down… win, I couldn’t let him win!

I snap out of the memory, luckily Finnick has my arms in his hands because i’ve stopped again and Peeta is looking at me with concern over his shoulder every few seconds. “Jude?” Finnick whispers and I take deep breath.

“In the last Hunger Games,” I began, trying to sort out the memory, he was saving me or was he the reason I ended up at the Capitol? “You saved me after the Careers attacked us, real or not real”

He frowned at the question, was it concern or hurt in his eyes, I didn’t know because when he blinked it was gone but then he stopped turning to face me. This time Finnick doesn’t push me forwards. He didn’t save you, and now he knows that he can’t get away with his lies anymore. Kill him!

Before I could act on the voices that abruptly awokened he speaks up, “I got you to that beach, then the arena went out and the Capital got you. So yeah, I saved you from the Careers but I couldn’t save you from the Capital and it’ll kill me everyday that you had to go through that and this and I couldn’t do anything”

His voice grew more anguished and devastated with each word and I found tears falling down my own face as he took deep breaths in front of me. The old me would’ve known how much this was eating at him, would’ve helped him but how could I?

I didn’t know me anymore. Or what I could do before I snapped.

I didn’t know what to say so I said “Haymitch told me that I- I told them if it came down to it, to save you” His eyes sharpened on me somehow, “I don’t blame you for what happened in the Capital, I never will. I’m sorry”

The air hung still as Boggs turned to them finally, breaking the moment “Keep up! We haven’t got all day” Peeta sighed, glancing at Boggs before solely landing on me again.

“Real. I saved you from the Careers” I smiled lightly, kill him, I shoved it down not paying any attention to it.

“Thank you” Finally, we began to follow the others down and around another corner. Soon we were arriving at our next pod, this one had a large arch with completely and utterly destroyed walls surrounding it left to right.

More destruction passed as they continued, how long before it’s too much, until the city isn’t even salvageable. Boggs told us to hide behind the walls while he set it off the next pod and then checked for anymore. We did as told, I took position between Finnick and Katniss and two other guys i didn’t know, Peeta and Cresta, Jackson and Pollux on the other side.

I felt anticipation, the voice had free roam when the pods went off. Too much going on at once, I couldn’t control it.

The pod detonation sent my mind spiraling, as I assumed, this one, four guns emerged from the wall and rained bullets into the archway destroying bits of the wall they were behind.

If you killed them their symbol would be gone, who would push that hope and if not for Katniss and Peeta, it would die with them. The voice stronger than it’d been in days.

No! I crouched further agaisnt the wall we’d taken cover behind, I’d been given my blank gun back for the promo but this was all too much, I felt the butt of the gun against my temple as I curled into my self.

I bring my head up and smack it against the gun, get out of my head. Get out. Get out! “My favourite colour is purple, I can’t wear red bows. Peeta saved me. My favourite-“ I repeat the words, whispered and keep bringing the butt of my gun to my temple.

A hand on my shouldern brings me back, at first my eyes catch the utterly devastated ones across from me. Peeta. He looks like he’d burn the world… For me. I break the eye contact quickly and the look in Finnicks eyes said it all. He didn’t have to go through what I had to understand, I didn’t know if I’d be able to do this without him, or Peeta… No matter how much I wanted to kill him sometimes.

Suddenly an explosion going off catches us off guard, did they set off another pod? “Boggs!” Katniss screams break the air, Finnicks hands move under my shoulders and lifts me to my feet, hauling me around the corner.

We both freeze at the sight, easily three of our squad members had been hit by the bomb. But it’s Boggs who lays in Katniss’s arms that makes my stomach drop and I’m almost sure I would have crumbled if not for Finnick. Bogg’s legs were gone, nothing but two stumps and onrushing blood.

Oh god, oh god. I slam my eyes shut and a ringing breaks out in my head. This is my fault, it’s all my fault, I never should have trusted them, Boggs should have never trusted them. The thoughts come harsher than they have in weeks and I can’t break away from them.

Kill them before they kill us all. This one isn’t my voice and I snap my eyes open sure I’d see his old and drawn face in front of me, but he’s not there. Relief fills me, but the twitch in my hand isn’t as my eyes dart to Peeta.

He must’ve been hit by the backlash of the bomb, Jackson was helping him to his feet as Cresta was helping one of the twins, who’d I forgotten were even there amongst all the chaos. His blue eyes darted around until they met mine and then they drifted to my hands.

I was holding my gun… I didn’t remember grabbing it, and it was full of blanks but it could still be a weapon. Kill him, I shake my head taking a step back at the same time I hear a click from afar, my head shoot’s up and I look to see l the other twin had rushed to help the other and had set off another pod.

I flinched ready for another bomb but instead the walls to the archway we just entered and the three others all begin to close, Katniss now standing from Boggs and holding the device he had seems to catch sight before anyone of us and the look of horror on her face is enough “Run!”

An arm grabs me and yanks me forward but my hands tighten on my gun, it was his fault. I can’t shake away these thoughts anymore, not after Boggs.

“Jude, keep it together!” Finnick spoke from beside me but nothing could bring me back, not after everything, everything that he’d done.

I felt my mind unscrewing, going barbaric at the thought of Peeta being so close and safe, he would make it out of this courtyard. And I tried to fight every single part of me that wanted to change that.

I couldn’t… Not after Boggs. You’re just kids, Peeta was a kid that had been the reason of hundreds and thousands of people… He had to die.

The air thrums around us as we rush up the stairs and I take this moment to look over my shoulder, a wave of black liquid lurches towards us and with utmost certainty I don’t want to find out what happens if it reaches me but then my mind flicks.

No consequences, kill him and die knowing you saved innocents. I wanted to shake these thoughts away, Peeta rushing up behind me tells me that he’d probably only run when he realised I was safe but a larger part of me knew he had some hidden agenda to kill me and cause more harm than good.

I had time.

It was the last confirmation I needed, shoving Finnick off me and throwing myself at Peeta, I let one of hands release the gun as I grab for his shoulder but his foot catches something and I only manage to grab his shirt as we go rolling down a few of the steps as he tries to fight off my grip, I hoped I had timed it right.

“Jude! Don’t” He cried out, finally managing to grab my wrist so I raise the gun in the other, “You have to die” I whisper, unsure why I needed to say it before I bring down the gun and finally, finally-

I’m shoved, NO. Snow’s voice screams in my head and I let out a cry, the yell breaks my skull open and I feel every ounce of rage pouring from the word.

His anger becomes my own and fuels me as I jump up from the ground and grapple the man from our squad who had ruined ruined ruined everything.

I knew it was wrong, some part of me as my ears rang and my mind exploded, but I couldn’t stop stop stop. The liquid rushed behind the man in my arms now, we’d spun, had I done that? Before my foot lifted and connected with his middle and I sent him into the abyss of oil.

Then it was all gone, the ringing, the voices and my mind was clear. I just killed a man. Someone must have grabbed me because i’m moving but I don’t feel it and I don’t care I’d killed someone, killed killed killed.

I feel the tears now as a door slams shut behind me and I hauled up my stairs, these are wooden not stone. The voices come back but they are no longer on my side. And it’s my own voice.

You killed an innocent. You need to die, you’re a danger. And I agree, I scream and scream that I want nothing more than to be dead and I must’ve actually been screaming because soon all I see is the same abyss I had forsaken another to.

— —

An explosion wakes me up and proceeds to remind me of everything that had happened before I succumbed to the darkness, I took in my surrounding the only light coming from the curtained window that Katniss and Gale were peering out of.

Whatever had just happened outside had affected Katniss more than Gale, and as I shift my position to get a better look but it’s useless, Gale lets the blinds close.

I let my eyes dance around the room, there’s more people in our group than I had realised, two men sat together checking the other for injuries, another man I seen but still didn’t know the name of stood with Cresta while Finnick and Peeta sat watching the window that Katniss and Gale were at. Jackson was no where in sight, I didn’t want to see her anyways, the guilt would twist even further. The twins… gone.

I swallow the sickness I feel, I had been so crazed I hadn’t taken the time to even get to know them.

All of the squad was far from me, I realised I was placed on stairs and the rail along it is what my hands are cuffed to.

Now you can’t hurt anyone. That hadn’t changed, no longer would I fight the urge to kill Peeta, somehow my wish of not killing him had been granted. Now I had to try not to kill myself, though that statement was half hearted.

Suddenly the familiar ring of the Capitals announcement played and my veins grew cold until one of the squad members spoke up “All the tvs in Panem are connected to the announcements, if the powers on then the shows running”

I rolled my eyes, the power that they could flush into abandoned apartments was incredible when some districts could barely keep the lights on for an hour or half.

The anthem continued, causing me to close my eyes but that only let the voices free reign in the darkness.

You could’ve been helping them stop this instead you let the Capital control you. I grit my teeth together not being able to take in what was happening on screen from the inner battle I was having with my own thoughts. You nearly killed Peeta and you were proud of it.

I nearly threw up.

My skin was on fire, pure and unadultered disgust and shame with myself, how could I have not realised that killing Peeta was the worst possible thing I could do, I would be nothing. Nothing, there was no way to put into words what would happen if he died.

And by my own hand, I closed my eyes. No. Never again would I let them win, hurt him. Never. I’d kill myself before I ever did something like that again… If I was even given the chance of redemption after what I did.

I open my eyes as I hear my name mentioned and see that the Capital is replaying everything that’s been haunting me since i woke up.

I watch the black oil like substance hurtle it’s way towards us, and I see it clearly now, Peetas eyes are on me waiting until I’m safe and clear before he runs after me and in that split second decision i’ve made one aswell.

Watching it on the screen was horrifying, my arm reaching for his throat but finding his shirt instead, us rolling together and still the look of murder on my face, so twisted it doesn’t even look like me before Mitch yanked me off and I thanked him by kicking him into the pod trap.

His scream echoed through the screen and I flinched, I’d been so full of rage and out of it I hadn’t heard it or seen as a metal cage lined with spikes shot from the oil, encasing the now dead Mitch.

I close my eyes unable to watch the rest. Monster, monster, monster. My voice spits over and over again, these I can’t shut out. It’s simply my thoughts the more I push it triples.

“Well, what’s next?” Jackson asked out of sight, I glanced around the room yet none of them seemed to look at me. I understood why they wouldn’t, some of them knew Mitch.

I killed their friend. Yet no one responded.

Was it not obvious? “I- I killed him” I whispered, all of their heads snapped like my voice was the last they expected “You should either leave me here or put a bullet in my head so no one else dies”

In the corner of my eye I see a hint of blonde flinch at my words, but I’d nearly killed him if it wasn’t for Mitch… Now he was dead, I didn’t get to live. “It’s the only reasonable solution, you can’t tell me i’m wrong”

“You’re wrong” Peeta cut in before anyone else could agree or disagree, I couldn’t tell by their faces and yet none of them cut into Peeta “You are restrained and we have a watch on you, Mitch knew what he was signing up for, we all did”

I looked away from him. This wasn’t right, my thoughts were against me now but what happened when they turned on him again? Because they would.

“You saved me once, you’ll be saving me this time aswell if you just-“

“No”

My eyes met his and I knew I’d never seen the fire in his gaze that he’d held this moment, Peeta was not budging on this. I frowned, I was a liability why couldn’t he see that?

My mind flashed to solutions, none came to mind. “There has to be a way where if I know i’m going to snap that I can stop myself” My words break at the end as I gaze around the room, there’s only silence “Please… please”

Gale steps forward and I see Peeta take a step but Katniss stops him, and I’m grateful as the brunette boy crouches down and pulls something from a hidden pocket.

A small pill, it was hard to think it’d do what i asked, delicately Gale pushed the pill into my own hidden pocket and patted it “It’s Nightlock, no pain and instant. Only if you have to”

I nodded, hesitantly but promising “Only if I have to”

And with that they set out, planning a course of action. The pods were too often now, they would have to stop constantly.

It was time to go underground

—

- … sooo part three?!?

—

DONT SCREAM AT ME IK IM AN ASSHOLE IM SO SO SO SORRY FOR MAKING YALL WAIT MY GOODREADS GOAL WAS SLACKING HAD TO CATCH UP HOPE YALL LIKE THIS XXXX

taglist girlies💓: @yazminetrahan @solarbxby @abbersreads @antonietta18

#books #hunger games #peeta mellark #peeta supremacy #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #coriolanus snow #peetamellarkworks #peeta mellark works #peeta mellark x reader #peeta x reader #peeta mellark angst #peeta mellark imagine #romance #angst #angst imagine peeta

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mrsackermannx · 1 year ago

Text

chef!sukuna who’s still lower in the rank than he wants to be, but so close to being a sous. tonight is his night to do the night’s special dish, finally. he earned this. he knew that if the head chef just let him, he could create the best dish ever served at this damn place.

so, he does just that.

he’s immediately scolded, the dish uses too many ingredients, the head says. too much to prepare. too ambitious. even though he used all of the left over ingredients from the menu’s usuals. 0% waste, 0% additional cost.

sukuna curses, taking a deeper drag of his cigarette. “make sure no table gets that shit,” he hears, with his fists clenching at his sides. ill go to the gym after this, he thinks, yeah, punch the fuck out of that bag.

it turns out that only table 8 has the dish, your table. the server messed up and now they’re crying in the back to the porter because they’ve been fired on the spot. “i told you not to fucking take it! have you never done expo-“

sukuna stalks calmly to the shaking waiter, “show me table eight-“ he sighs, levelling the head chef with a glare, sukuna was much larger, much stronger than him, difference in rank or not. he stood down, stalking down the other side of the kitchen with a huff. “ignore him, i wanna see who’s eating my dish, come on, let’s go.”

a reassuring pat to the shoulder from sukuna was almost enough to make him cry even more. sukuna kind of hated everyone.

“just there, chef. the couple, bedside the pillar on the left…its um…her, chef.” he grins, watching how transfixed the normally gruff man is, “your girl heh heh.”

“shut up,” he says, but he smiles a little.

he watches you, sat opposite some guy you hardly look interested in, you’re beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, as always, his eyes are drawn to you, no other woman could compare.

he watches you slice through his dish, the fork at your lips, as soon as it reaches your mouth you make a noise of such rapture, a sudden quiet falls upon the floor of the restaurant.

it’s almost weird how heat rushes low at the sight and the sound, he can’t remember the last time anyone else fired him up like this. he never took himself to have any kind of food fetish, either. yet watching you eat his dishes always seems to be an erotic exchange he never anticipates.

“oh…him? think they’re married?”

“i don’t think so.”

that man seems to hiss at you, eyes on his watch, barely touching his dish. “i wanted pizza downtown, god.”

you shake your hand in dismissal, shoving another forkful in your mouth. “i wanted this, i always want this.”

sukuna let’s out a breathy fuck, and the server practically faints.

no one was immune to sukuna’s charm, then, it seemed.

“oh, fuck, table 7 saw me. fuck, chef ive already been fire-“

“go and give them a reason not to fire you. go, go to your table kid, it’s still yours, right?”

the table beside you seems to have called him over, asking for the same dish you seem to believe has came from heaven, telling anybody who asks.

sukuna can’t help but enjoy the lively affair, as the restaurant manager tries to explain over and over to more and more tables that the chef special has been cancelled. oh, how he loved this little bit of chaos.

“why?” your voice clatters through the cacophony like a piece of silverware on crockery. “this dish is phenomenal, the best ive ever eaten here and in this city, in this country-“

“miss-“

“taste it! can you not taste the hard work? the thought? its the best thing ive ever eaten. the chef who made this has impeccable taste and talent.”

your laughter rings through the place at your partners embarrassment. sukuna is about to pry himself away and head back into the kitchen, leaning on the side of the bar and then…your eyes meet, another forkful is waiting before those glossed lips. another sweet sound of joy rings through the air.

now you see him, huh?

your smile is sweeter than agave, “it’s you.”

your words are lost on everyone around you, but to sukuna he hears them as if you whispered them right against his ear.

sukuna was a tall, broad, and unquestionably handsome man, unmissable out of his chef whites, invisible in them, somehow. obscured by the ambient lighting of the restaurant.

you near him, like a moth to a flame, a sensual air to the way your hips flick toward him. “you-“

the head chef storms through to the restaurant floor, the door slamming you both into the corresponding wall. his large arms wrap around you, his hand cups the back of your head.

he slowly retracts his hand, and your chest rises as you resist the urge to press your cheekbone into his palm, “are you okay?”

his voice is deep and addicting, dark and dripping down your throat.

you’re beaming at him, like he’s an angel, like he’s somebody you already adore. he gifts you a lover’s laugh, “you seem to be the only satisfied person in the building tonight.”

“seems like you’ve satisfied me sir.” you wink, still letting his aura press you into the wall, he cages you in with his arms.

“oh?”

“last thursday. that soup, you made it, didn’t you…?”

“sukuna,” he answers for you, “maybe.”

“seafood special last month?”

“yes, and your name?”

for some reason he’s out of breath, you’re so close, so fancy in your silk dress, clad in jewellery that sparkles even under these dimmed lights. “reader, you…you’re a genius.”

“so you came to thank me personally?” he leans closer, swiping sauce from the corner of your lip. it lingers on his thumb, his eyes chase yours as he licks it. “how sweet of you.”

#chef!sukuna #chef sukuna would absolutely ruin and wreck my heart #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #this concept is just in my head i cannot #younger chef sukuna #food critic reader?!!#foodie reader???#now i want to write a whole fic about this

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estcaligo · 8 months ago

Text

Sebek's ears

x reader *slight angst

"Sebek, put that down!" a worried shout pierced the room. Doctor Zigvolt dashed towards the boy, but it was too late - the child had already nicked his ear. It wasn't a serious injury, thankfully, but blood stained his son's ear, neck, shirt, and his mint hair.

Hearing the commotion, Mrs. Zigvolt hurried into the room. "Darling, what's-...!!!" Her voice caught in her throat, turned into a scream of shock that thundered throughout the household, startling every bird in the vicinity into a flutter of panic, as if sensing an imminent danger.

But there was no danger. Only blood. And tears. And a kid in front of a mirror with a kitchen knife in his hands.

"Sebek, let me take a look. You might get an infec- " Mr. Zigvolt tried to approach Sebek gently, but the boy pushed him away, sobbing loudly.

"This is your fault! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!! I HATE YOU!!!" Sebek cried out in despair, tears streaming down his sorrowful face as he ran past his parents. Mrs. Zigvolt could easily treat any wounds (it was one of the reasons she had been accepted to work at her husband's clinic despite lacking medical training), but now was not the time - Sebek wouldn't listen. So she just stood beside her spouse, watching their youngest son run away, not daring to break the silence. Words were unnecessary; they both understood. Sebek, despite being only 5, had already expressed a grand displeasure towards his human side. The destructive prejudice he had acquired not without help…

…

"A kitchen knife?... Back in Briar Valley, my grandfather would always look displeased whenever I entered the kitchen. So, I'm entirely unfamiliar with all cooking implements." Sebek said to the ghost chef.

"Oh? Why is that?" the chef asked.

"I have no idea... But he especially kept me away from sharp objects, like knives." he replied, examining the object in his hand.

"Well, mastering this skill is necessary for the course, so do your best!" the chef cheered, floating next to him.

"YES, CHEF!" Sebek boomed, making all the pans and pots shiver, and got back to cooking his dish.

…

It was rigorous but rewarding training, Sebek reflected, slowly washing his hands. Days spent in the kitchen were filled with various instructions and orders from the ghost chefs, requiring quick reactions, but due to their ghostly nature their words often faded, lingering in the air, so a regular human would have trouble hearing them. BUT NOT SEBEK ZIGVOLT. He had perfect hearing, his ears were sharper than...

…Sharper than what?....

He looked into the mirror of the Diasomnia dorm's bathroom, coming to wash away the smell and smudges from the Master Chef course. His face darkened once again as he lingered too long on his right ear. He remembered that day vividly. When he, a young and immature kid, tried to... tried to become a fae? Tired of being bullied by those around him, he believed that if he changed his ears - made them pointy like everyone else's - it would help him fit in. But now he understood how foolish it was.

Yet still. What makes a fae? A pair of pointy ears? “Not necessarily” is what his mother always used to say Be blessed by night, but don’t forget about the day And he remembers, and he knows No need in those Yet still.

A bitter feeling of unfairness washed over him as he was drifting off to sleep.

Why? Of all human qualities, why did he have to have round ears? He had asked himself this question a million times. And it wasn't as if he lacked fae qualities - his hearing surpassed any human's, and he could even hear and understand the fae language, something no human could do due to its nature. He possessed all these abilities, yet they were overshadowed by this small, bitter nuance - his appearance. Genetics had played a cruel joke on him, he thought. Despite his efforts, he will always look like a weak, useless human.

Speaking of weak humans.

You and Sebek had arranged to meet at the gates to head down to Foothill Town today. Rumor had it that the famous bookshop there had new arrivals, and you were eager to take a look. And since Sebek was so knowledgeable about books, you invited him along. Of course, it wasn't like he really wanted to go with you! He had far more important matters to attend to. However, he couldn't risk you selecting subpar books that you might later mention in conversations with Master Malleus - Sebek couldn't let your lack of discernment in literature reflect poorly on the Young Lord!! So, he was coming with you, for that reason alone, nothing more! … The road wasn't long, and once you arrived at the shop, you began browsing the shelves. The selection was vast: novels, scientific works, poems, historical texts, dictionaries, even books in languages you couldn't understand. Unable to decide, you grabbed a handful of books that caught your attention and retreated to a quiet corner to examine your finds.

“Get on with this human, I don't have all day” he said, standing next to you, arms crossed.

“Ok ok, how about this one?”

"It looks fine. You can keep it, I suppose."

"Great! And this?" you showed Sebek another book, but he frowned slightly.

"It doesn't seem like a decent book to me. Better put it away."

"Why? It's about knights. What exactly do you dislike about it?"

"The cover doesn't look appealing. As if they didn't put much effort into designing it properly!" he declared loudly enough to draw a few judgmental glances from the other customers.

"And that's it?" you blinked at him. "But the plot itself must be good!"

"I've given my opinion, do as you wish, human!" he huffed, turning away.

"...Oh, Sebek. Never judge a book by its cover."

…

In the end, you purchased quite a few books (Crowley had been unusually generous this month, providing you with some extra money), and Sebek helped you carry them back to the Ramshackle. As a thank-you for accompanying you, you offered to share a cup of tea together and he agreed.

...However, for the two of you, it was never just "a cup of tea".

As usual, you found yourselves engrossed in intimate conversations, drawn close to each other.

Grim was absent, so it was just you and him on the couch in the spacious Ramshackle hall. Two cups of tea, long forgotten and gone cold, sat on the table.

Sebek rested his head on your lap, as he often did during your moments together, rambling about the books, his duties, or about Malleus, speaking quieter than his usual self. And you just patiently listened, knowing how hard he worked every day and wanting him to have some rest once in a while. The fact that he could relax in your presence made you genuinely happy.

Wrapped in serenity, you gently caressed his mint hair, occasionally running your fingers over his ears. You had grown accustomed to seeing them very clearly, as Sebek wore his hair swept back all the time. But when he was with you he sometimes let his hair loose and his ears became hidden amidst the soft waves of green, looking like two small islands surrounded by endless grassy seas. Or like curious animals peeking from the leaves. It was both adorable and endearing, and you couldn't help but giggle quietly. “Human! Is there a problem with your ears?! I'm talking to you!” Sebek's loud voice brought you back from your daydreaming.

“Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment.”

“Hmph! And what was so captivating that you ignored my question?”

“Oh... er... your ears” you smiled shyly.

“My... what?”

…

“Your beautiful, lovely, adorable ears" you laughed at his reaction, showering him with compliments before placing a kiss on his right ear - the one he had once tried to...

A wave of strange warmth suddenly flushed through his body. Why would you say such things about his terrible flaw?

All his life, people around him in his homeland had diminished him because of his round ears. On Sage's Island, people just ignored this feature, so he assumed they wouldn't comment on the obvious. But you? The way you touched them, the way you kissed them - without revulsion, without hesitation, without doubt.

For a moment, he felt something unfamiliar - like nothing else mattered. An unusual feeling, one he only experienced by your side. But he liked it.

Who cared if he didn't have pointy ears? Who cared about others' judgments?

You were right - only fools judge a book by its cover.

“Sebek, do you hear me?” you were the one asking this time.

“Yes. Yes, I can hear you very well, dear human” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

#yes i'm doing it #i really like this one #twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #caligo's stories

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babybluewoso · 8 months ago

Text

The Blaugrana Beat: A Tale of Love Beyond the Pitch || alexia putellas x reader

once upon a time, in the sun-kissed streets of Barcelona, two hearts danced to the rhythm of childhood innocence. Alexia Putellas and Emerson Jones were inseparable, their laughter echoing through the narrow alleys as they chased after soccer balls and dreams. They were more than friends; they were soulmates, their bond forged in the fiery passion of youth.

Emerson, with her unruly curls and mischievous eyes, was a blend of English pragmatism and Spanish fire. She had spent fifteen vibrant years in Spain, soaking up the Mediterranean sun and falling in love with the game that would shape her destiny. Alexia, on the other hand, was all grace and determination. Her Spanish roots ran deep, and her love for soccer was etched into her very bones.

Emerson is the girl who never liked to wear frocks, who couldn't stay still for a minute, and who always loves to cause trouble. alexia, on the other hand, is the angel everyone adores, sure she did play soccer but she loved to dress up as a princess only for her Emerson. From a very young age Alexia wanted to be with Emerson she never knew why, but whenever another girl touched her Emerson she would explode. their parents, especially Emerson's brothers tease them because growing up Alexia is the tallest one out of both of them.

after years of pinning over each other, they admitted their feelings to each other. Their love story began innocently—a stolen kiss behind the bleachers, secret notes passed during class, and late-night conversations under the star-studded sky. They were childhood sweethearts, their hearts entwined like the vines that adorned the ancient walls of the Camp Nou stadium.

however life has a way of twisting fate, and when Emerson’s family announced their return to England, the world tilted on its axis. She tried to explain it to Alexia, her voice trembling with the weight of impending separation. But Alexia misunderstood, her heart shattered into a thousand shards. She believed Emerson was leaving because she had grown tired of their love, that their shared dreams were mere illusions.

In a moment of pain and desperation, Alexia lashed out.

"you know what I never liked you anyway, you foolishly thought that I loved you huh? guess what I would never, ever love someone like you" she spat, her eyes betraying the lie.

Emerson’s heart fractured, "No no you're lying. ale, you know I will always find my way back to you. always, I can't do anything about this situation. I love you. I- I- "

"stop it. go back to your stupid country. I bet you already have some chick lined up for you huh??"

"ale this isn't you"

"stop calling me that. and get the hell out of here" and she left Barcelona with tears staining her jersey.

Years passed, Emerson’s life took unexpected turns and so did her body. once the smallest kid in the town is now the tallest giant in the town. but her personality stays the same way, with her side smirk and the messy blonde hair, England women lined up for her attention. But none of them matter to her when her heart always belongs to a certain Catalan girl.

Emerson honed her skills, rising through the ranks until she stood at the precipice of her dreams—a chance to sign with FC Barcelona. But fate had a wicked sense of humor. Alexia, now a seasoned player herself, was the team captain. the news of Emerson Jones joining Barca flew like wildfire. before she knew it, she was packing her bags to go back to Spain. where she lost her first love. She is ready to prove that she came here to stay. Even Alexia’s words rang in her head all the time; she had faith in their love.

Lucy Bronze, her England teammate has taken it up on herself to introduce Emerson to the team. Emerson is so happy to be back in Barcelona, but that is not the only reason, she wanted to see Alexia apparently the girl had some captain duties to do. after changing into her new training kit, she made her way onto the field.

lunchtime rolled over still no sign of the captain, so Emerson let out a quiet sign and ate her lunch. but little did she know the captain was looking from the physio room this entire time. Alexia couldn't bring herself to meet Emerson again. She knew it was childish, she was the team captain one way or another they must meet again.

After lunch, the team had their evening gym session. which Alexia had to participate in. Again, Lucy took it upon herself to introduce the two ex-lovers.

"Hello," Emerson’s Yorkshire accent dripped down due to being so many years in England.

alexia has to admit that it was very hot but she dismissed that thought quickly. She takes a quick look at Emerson’s body, she is not the same girl who she used to be. alexia is one of the tallest players in the squad after Irene, Ingrid, and Frido but never in her wildest dreams, she would have thought that Emerson would be this tall. Emerson, standing at an imposing 6 feet tall, defies convention with her androgynous allure. Her frame, though linear, conceals a quiet strength—a testament to her disciplined lifestyle. Her jawline, sharp as a blade, accentuates her femininity, while her ocean-blue eyes hold depths of mystery. no wonder why England women were so caught up with her charm.

"hola, espero que no caus cap problema aquí"(hello hope you don't cause any trouble here) She greeted Emerson’s return with icy indifference, her walls fortified against the girl who had once held her heart.

Emerson couldn't understand a word she said but she knew Alexia wasn't very pleased with her presence. swallowing hard Emerson tried to start a conversation with her;

"How are you doing ale?? it's been some time"

"Mira aquí no em pots dir ale perquè no és el meu nom, només els meus amics I la família em poden dir així, I l'última vegada que vaig composer que no eres ni familiar ni amic meu." (look you can't call me ale here because that's not my name only my friends and family can call me that, and last time I checked you were neither family nor friend of mine)

lucy who had seen the whole interaction stepped in, "Hey hey I don't know what happened with you two but save it for late si?" with that Alexia left without another word.

"she hates me" Emerson whispered.

"no shit Sherlock. what did you do to her, and how did you two know each other, did you sleep with each other? omg if so this is not going to end well. You have to tell me everything "

-- -

A few days passed Emerson befriended almost everyone on the team. alexia hated that too, Emerson has friends now. As a captain of the team, she had some power over a few things.

alexia refused to talk in English she even abandoned the other players to talk in English too. poor Keira never saw it coming. She explained the drills in Spanish, and Emerson felt hopeless. it was quite obvious within the team that alexia hated her but only Lucy and Kiera knew the real reason.

after a grueling training session, Alexia called the team over to have a free kick challenge.

"Farem un repte de tir lliure si ho perdeu, hauteur de córrer 10 volts" (we're gonna do a free kick challenge if you miss, you'll have to run 10 laps) Alexia said with a straight face, again Emerson couldn't understand a word she said but after watching her other teammates she knew it was a free kick challenge.

when it came to Emerson's chance she felt extra nervous, she had taken plenty of free kicks in her life but with the way Alexia was watching, she felt really uncomfortable.

she took a breath and kicked the ball, safe to say it never found its way back on the net.

"de nuevo"(again) alexia seethed.

Emersson’s every touch of the ball felt like a plea for forgiveness, but Alexia remained unyielding. She masked her pain with sharp words and frosty glances, pushing Emerson away. Yet, beneath the surface, the embers of their love still smoldered. The tension between them was palpable, a magnetic pull that defied reason.

---------

days after the free kick incident, it was time to face El Classico, but most importantly Emerson's debut for Barca.

alexia couldn't play due to her knee injury but she was at the stands cheering her teammates.

in the 56th minute, Emerson was subbed in, and from that very moment, the match began to escalate. chances were created, and space was used within two minutes Emerson scored her debut goal for her club. after that goal, Real Madrid became reckless with their tackless, and all of them were aimed at Emerson.

after another thirty-five minutes, the game was over securing a Barcelona win which was nothing new for the team.

however, nobody saw how bad was Emerson, her whole body was aching, and she was exhausted physically and mentally. but she masked it with a small smile on her face. alexia saw right pass through it. she wanted to help but her mind wouldn't let her.

after thanking the fans Emerson made her way to the physio room to clean up her bruises. to her absolute luck, nobody was there to help. she couldn't care more so she made her way to one of their tables and took off her shirt.

meanwhile, Alexia was caught up in her own battle in her head. She wanted to help Emerson so badly but at the same time, she wanted to hurt her the same way she did.

that's when Lucy came from behind. "go after her. She needs you more than anything"

"I needed her too, but where was she then?"

"don't punish her without knowing the full story"

"easy for you to say, Lucia"

-----

The silence of the locker room was punctuated by the sound of footsteps. Emerson, still reeling from the match’s physical toll, looked up to see Alexia approaching. Her face was a mask of professionalism, but her eyes betrayed a storm of emotions.

“Emerson,” Alexia began, her voice steady and in English, a language she hadn’t used with her for over a decade. “I need to check those bruises you've got.”

Emerson’s eyes widened in surprise. “Alexia?"

"You’re speaking to me in English?”

She didn’t waver. “Yes, I am. Can we put our past aside for a moment? Your well-being is my priority right now.”

she nodded, still taken aback by the change. “Of course.”

As she tended to her injuries, the tension between them was palpable. Emerson broke the silence, “Why now, after all these years?”

Alexia paused, her hands momentarily still. “Because hate is a heavy burden to carry, and I see no point in holding onto it any longer.”

Emerson searched her face for a hint of the love they once shared. “Do you… do you ever think about us?”

She sighed a trace of sadness in her eyes. “Every day. But we can’t change the past, Emerson. We can only learn from it.”

she reached out, gently touching her hand. “I’m sorry, Alexia. For everything.”

She met her gaze, her own hand covering hers. “I know. And I forgive you. But let’s focus on healing these bruises for now.”

They shared a look, a silent understanding passing between them. Perhaps this was the first step towards mending what had been broken, not just in flesh, but in heart and spirit.

The world blurred, and for a moment, they were just two girls who had once shared secrets and dreams.

Alexia’s eyes held a storm of emotions—regret, longing, and a hint of fear. “Why did you leave?” she whispered, her voice raw. “Why did you break my heart?”

Emersson’s gaze bore into hers. “I had no choice,” she confessed. “My family needed me. But I never stopped loving you.”

The truth hung heavy in the air, and Alexia’s walls crumbled. She cradled Emersson’s face, her thumb brushing away tears. “I was wrong,” she murmured. “I never stopped loving you either.”

And in that moment, the rivalry dissolved, replaced by a love that had weathered storms and crossed continents. Emerson signed with Barça, not as an enemy but as a lover—a woman who had fought for her dreams and her heart.

As they celebrated victory on the hallowed grounds of Camp Nou, Alexia whispered against Emersson’s lips, “Welcome home.”

And Emerson knew that sometimes, love was a game worth playing, even when the odds were stacked against you. They had gone from childhood sweethearts to enemies, but now, they stood on the brink of a new chapter—a love rekindled, stronger than ever before.

p.s. - this is my first story so bear with me. :)

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #barcelona femeni #lucy bronze #enemies to lovers #childhood sweethearts #masc lesbian

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k9punkout · 3 months ago

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AND IF I SAID THAT ivan's perception of till's determination and hostility was generally wrong and unintentionally undermining of his actual mental instability. IF I SAID THAT this pov rubbed off on the fandom and plays into several till mischaracterizations. WHAT THEN.

okay so hear me out on this one. ivan's acknowledged that he could never quite understand till like he could all the other children. everyone else fell into a sort of pattern, a puzzle that can be solved with a simple analysis and adapted behavior. everyone except till.

till was no solvable puzzle. all the pieces to him were distorted, broken, missing. a living hurricane, a walking contradiction. he was gentle in his violence, quiet in his loudness, complex in his simplicity. ivan could get no true read on him, and that's why he grew so drawn to him.

and while i do believe that till is just an eccentric and unpredictable person at heart, a large part of his chaotic nature is due to his trauma. his rapid and intense mood swings, his aggressive behavior, his easily overwhelmed mind, his fluctuating ego, and many other aspects to him are all signs of abuse related mental instability. ivan saw all of that, witnessed all the abuse and all its side effects, but it never really struck him that holy shit, this guy needs psychological help.

and it's not like that's HIS fault either. Ivan was never really taught how people work, he learned via absorbing how the other children interacted instead (which isn't really efficient, he's no mind reader or anything). i wouldn't be surprised if he had no clue that mental illness even EXISTED; he always referred to himself and sua as simply "twisted" rather than trying to figure out if they could be helped or fixed, or WHY they stood out from the others.

he never even questioned his own hatred for himself. he simply thought it was reasonable, because of course, who wouldn't hate a monster like him? once someone knows who he is deep down, there is no redeeming quality that he can genuinely exhibit to exonerate himself from his rotten, detached mindset. in his mind, he deserves the isolation.

ivan truly sees himself as the worst person in the world, which makes till, by comparison, simply a confusing kid who isn't scared to fight back. ivan thinks till's willpower stems from great mental strength rather than desperation and fear. this would lead him to both misinterpret till's actions and overestimate his mental strength, all while underestimating how rapidly his sanity is withering.

this is shown quite a few times around the series. in "Confession," he refers to till as the "victim of his shallow emotions," demonizing himself and painting till as his victim. as if till could do no harm. as if till was the ONLY victim here. (i can't stop thinking about how much till would've hated that word. victim.)

in a slightly more elaborate retranslation of Cure that someone on this app did (i tried to find it but i sadly couldn't), the word "scars" ("even if your cruel words carve scars beneath my eyes") was said to be better translated into "scratches." a flesh wound. nothing debilitating, nothing severe, just painful for a while, and then gone. insignificant. the harm he inflicts is insignificant compared to everything else that he is.

i'll stick around, i'll stay, because the bruises we leave on each other are nothing compared to the spark he ignites within me.

till punches and kicks and screams and snarls, and to ivan, it's no problem, just something that makes him unique. he'd do anything to see him fight. so what if he gets caught in the crossfire? so what if he's killed while he's at it? it's all worth it. till could just continue on without him, it'd be so easy. he's strong, he never cared for him all that much anyway.

till is unpredictable, till is unique. it's just the way things work. nothing about it needs to be changed. the destruction he causes to himself and to others doesn't need to be fixed, it's already perfect. he's perfect, in all his imperfections.

THATS where the toxicity lies in ivantill. not because ivan is totally possessive and wants till to belong to him and only him or whatever some of the fandom says. but because ivan so obsessed with till that he'll die for him while calling him his victim. that he'll acknowledge till's hostile behavior and his quickness to rage and violence and consider it something to be loved rather than concerned about or feared. he'll hone in on his own flaws, never acknowledging till's, never seeing how they're destroying EACH OTHER, and exclusively focusing on the harm that HE'S done to till.

it's why ivan was always bothering him. he wanted to see him lose his temper, wanted him to fight and struggle. (more often than not, this was a good thing, as it often happened whenever till was sad/out of it, but just because something's beneficial in the moment doesn't mean it makes for a healthy relationship).

of course, none of this means that ivan DIDNT want till to be happy. he wouldn't have tried to escape with him if that was the case. he liked seeing till angry, but not any more than he hated seeing till miserable. despite not quite understanding him, he still wanted the best for that boy.

i think ivans warped perspective affected the way many people characterize till. a lot of people treat him as a more gentle person than he is in canon, and while it's true that he's mentally weak, he'd never cower in the face of someone stronger than him, like many people seem to think. he's vulnerable in the explosive and reactive sense, not in the powerless and delicate sense.

so far, we've gotten so much of ivans perspective of till that people seem to forget that he literally committed a murder in round 2. and he looked REALLY happy abt that shit. my mans freddy was a father of two and till did NOT care. not to mention that he didn't even spare acorn a GLANCE the entire round.

idk man the guy's a lil cuckoo loca we might need to remember that

#is this a hot take guys #please tell me you see my vision bcs that was #so incoherent #yapping #again #GOD the ivantill dynamic always makes me SICKKKKKK #SO SICKKKK #alien stage #alnst #ivantill #alnst ivan #ivan alien stage #till alien stage #till alnst #tillvan

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bluriki · 11 months ago

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ꪆৎ coffee break ﹫ lhs

; pair bf!heeseung x fem!reader ; sum coffee breaks are the only way heeseung can spend time with you at work ; genre fluff , office!au , established relatioinship

“coffee break?” a figure sat on your desk, leaning forward to meet your face. heat crept on your cheeks as the figure leaned closer pressing his lips to your cheek. your eyes widened slightly. “don’t do that, heeseung!” you whisper yelled.

you were in a secret relationship with heeseung, although he didn’t really keep it a secret. instead, he winked at you, he always got way too close to be called friendly, and he was always seen with you. what can you say, he’s whipped.

“why not? i can kiss my girlfriend if i want to.” a pout formed on his lips. “plus, no ones here, they’re taking a lunch right now.” you looked around to make sure no one could’ve seen the small kiss heeseung gave you. “you’re lucky.”

heeseung chuckled. “you never answered my question.” you tilted your head, a smile appearing on your face as you met his eyes. “i have time. plus im a little hungry.” you placed your hand over your stomach.

“great! let’s head to the lobby!” confusion filled your face. “the lobby? i thought you meant the break room!” you whined, knowing you didn’t have that much time. “you said you were hungry which means i’m gonna buy you something to eat, now lets go.”

you huffed, sliding your chair back. “before we go i need to file some papers.” heeseung nodded, standing up. “as long as you eat lunch with me.” you chuckled, grabbing the papers from your desk. “you’re whipped.” you said, with a soft smile.

“how did you know?” heeseung placed a finger on his chin, looking up to the sky. “it’s not that obvious is it?” you bursted out laughing. “not at all.” heeseung hummed and followed you to file the papers.

once you were done filing your papers you went to the lobby with heeseung. some people were in line to order some coffee. you stood behind the last person and turned to heeseung.

“why’d you want to have coffee in the lobby?” you crossed your arms and blinked waiting for heeseung to answer. “so i can get miss workaholic away from her computer.” you furrowed your brows shooting a glare to heeseung.

you heard him chuckle next to you. you knew he wanted to hug you and for once you wanted him to give you a hug at your workplace. the only reason you have a secret relationship is because you’re very close with your coworkers and you know they’ll tease you nonstop.

a comfortable silence fell between you and heeseung. you watched many workers pass around like little ants working hard and trying their best. you smiled knowing they were doing their best for this company.

“what do you want to eat?” heeseung spoke, breaking the silence. you looked at the menu. “grilled chicken with vegetables.” you noticed heeseung scrunching his face a bit. “why are you making that face?” heeseung shook his head. “its nothing.”

“tell me!” you whined, gently punching his shoulder. “the vegetables.” you scoffed in disbelief. “you’re just like a little kid.” heeseung leaned closer to your face. “maybe i am one.” he smiled brightly, tilting his head slightly.

you pushed him back softly. “whatever. we’re up next, you know what to order right?” heeseung nodded. you patted his shoulder, walking to a table to sit at. you watched heeseung order with a smile on your face. that same smile dropped when you noticed the girl flirting with heeseung.

you glared at her even though she would never notice. heeseung walked to your table after he finished ordering. “why do you look upset?” he asked while pulling out a chair to sit with you. “i don’t know, why don't you ask yourself?” heeseung widened his eyes.

“that girl! she was flirting with you.” you pouted, looking down and playing with your fingers. heeseung grinned, grabbing your hands. “jealous much?” you pulled your hands from his. a glare and pout playing on your face.

heeseung chuckled. he watched you with loving eyes. suddenly, your order was called, leaving you alone again. you noticed the girl slip heeseung a piece of paper. you sent another glare at her and waited for heeseung to sit back down.

“give me that paper.” heeseung gave it to you and watched you rip it. he tried to hold his laugh back, you were cute when you were jealous.

—

“coffee break?” heeseung asked you for the second time that day. you looked up at his figure. “as long as it’s not in the lobby.” heeseung nodded, knowing that would be your answer. “don’t worry, it’s in the break room.” you smiled and stood up. “i need a coffee break anyway.”

heeseung chuckled, following you to the break room. no one was in there meaning you were alone with heeseung. you should’ve know he would’ve tried to pull something.

as soon as he closed the door he was against you, placing his chin on your shoulder. “what if someone walks in?” you questioned, pouring cream into your coffee. “i’m sure everyone know we’re together at this point, it’s so obvious.” you glanced at heeseung. “i wonder why.”

heeseung smiled innocently. “it’s because you’re whipped for me obviously.” you shook your head, fighting the smile threatening to come out. “i think it’s the other way around.” heeseung wrapped his arms around you, turning you to face him.

“okay, maybe it is but you’re really obvious too.” you cocked your head to the side. “less than you though.” heeseung groaned, placing his head on your shoulder. “i cant help the fact im in love with you.” your heart started pounding in your chest. you didn’t know what to say so you opted to say nothing. instead, you enjoyed him being in your arms.

you stayed like that for a little while until heeseung picked his head up. he gave you a silly smile before pressing his lips on yours for a soft peck. you giggled against his lips, pressing your lips to his again.

“i love you too.” you whispered, a smile complimenting your features. heeseung leaned against you, holding you like you were the most valuable thing to exist.

suddenly the door opened causing you and heeseung to separate. your coworker, jake, jumped up and down pointing at the two of you.

“I KNEW IT!!”

🎬 노트 && . first fic of the year!! im sorry it's taken forever for me to post a fic :( i had the worst writers block... on that note i have a longer fic coming up as soon as i can finish the ending!!

🧷 perm tl && . send ask or comment to be added

#‎‎‎‎‎‎ 777 ৎ 리본 #k-labels #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines #heeseung drabbles #heeseung fic #heeseung x reader #heeseung enhypen #heeseung oneshots #heeseung scenarios #heeseung soft hours #heeseung x you #heeseung x yn #heeseung blurbs #enhypen heeseung

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nostalgicnarrator · 3 months ago

Text

𝙾𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚊𝚠𝚖𝚎𝚗

───── ☾ ⍟ ☽ ─────

Word Count: 7736

Parings: Thorn X Bilbo

Description:

Thorin has had it with this outlaw.

───── ☾ ⍟ ☽ ─────

1 / 2 / 2.5

⚠️Warning⚠️

Mature content.

Note:

I put my cowboy hat on first this one, let me know if you want to see more. I might make it into a AO3 book if people want it enough.

───── ꧁✪꧂ ─────

The sun wasn’t even over the horizon when the knock came, loud and persistent, and far too early in the morning for Thorin’s liking.

He was in the middle of a deep, dreamless sleep. The knocks started quietly, just enough to stir him. But they didn’t stop. The knocking quickly turned to banging.

Thorin groaned loudly, dragging his hand down his face. And that’s how he found himself standing at his front door staring at a boy who shoved a paper in his hand.

Thorin half-expected some emergency, not some kid. The problem was that Ered was quiet most mornings, but it had its moments, so when someone comes banging on his door this early, it was usually serious.

Not for some paper. He raised his brow at the young man as he stood there, barely awake himself. The boy rubbed his eyes, swaying slightly as if he might fall asleep standing.

“Telegram for you, Sheriff,” the boy mumbled when he handed it over.

Thorin blinked at the offending piece of paper. It felt heavier than it should’ve, like it carried some kind of unseen weight. Something in his gut told him this wasn’t good, it felt… wrong.

He quickly read the message, his brow furrowing as his tired eyes tried to make sense of it.

꧁——————————꧂

꧁𝚃𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖꧂

𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝟻:𝟶𝟶…..𝚃𝚘: 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗 𝙾𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚕𝚍

𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍: 𝟼:𝟹𝟶……

𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙴𝚛𝚎𝚍.

𝙱.

꧁——————————꧂

Thorin stared at the telegram. “B,” he muttered to himself. Just a letter, no name. He turned the telegram over as if he might find some clue hidden on the back.

“Who sent this?” Thorin asked, glancing at the boy. Feeling about as annoyed as a wet cat.

The young man shrugged, still half-asleep. “Dunno. Just got handed it at the post office this morning. Told to deliver it.”

“Great,” Thorin muttered, running a hand through his hair. He shooed the boy away.

He all but slammed the door as he tossed the telegram paper on a table and stormed upstairs. His mind was unhelpfully loud and annoying.

He had no idea who “B” was, or why this person thought it necessary to bother him at this ungodly hour. And why a cryptic message about a train?

It wasn’t like trains were a rare occurrence in Ered. They’re not often eather, and when they did come through they had small shipments. But him getting the notice didn’t make sense. The mayor normally gets the notice about the trains, not Thorin.

He flopped over onto his bed and tried to go back to sleep. His mind rolled through thoughts of who could have possibly sent it.

At first his mind landed on Balin, but that makes no sense, first of all, Balin would’ve waited, second he wasn’t always needed when it came to deliveries. The few times he was, was when the bank got new bills in or gold shipments.

Besides, Balin didn’t deal in cryptic messages; he was direct, always to the point. So If it wasn’t Balin, then who?

He turned the letter over in his mind. Bofur? No, not likely. Bofur wasn’t much for secrets, the man would have blurted out whatever he had to say in the middle of town for all to hear. Probably would have burst into song about it if someone got a little liquor in him.

Bombur wouldn’t send it either, he got his shipments with his brother, and when he didn’t it came by wagon. Sure the man was shy but he knew Thorin and they’ve talked a few times.

Bifur? No, Bifur probably didn’t understand how telegrams worked, so it couldn’t be him. Thorin groaned and rubbed his face again roughly.

None of them would have done it. they all would’ve told him in person if they did actually need help, and at a more reasonable hour.

So it had to have come from outside of Ered. But who, in their right mind, would do this?

“First that outlaw,” Thorin grumbled under his breath. “And now this… I can’t catch a break.”

Thorin hadn’t even caught his breath from that whole disaster, the universe is out for his blood. He could feel it. Thorin sat back up with a huff, he decided to get ready for the day. It was clear he wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon.

And he could feel something was off about this whole situation. It nagged at him like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. The one thing Thorin had learned over the years was that trouble didn’t usually announce itself. It snuck up on you.

Thorin sighed heavily, he really didn’t want to deal with any more problems, he shoved his boots on and pulled his hair back before plopping his hat on his head. He was already tired, and the day hadn’t even started yet.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Thorin looked up from his desk when Dwalin walked in, the man looked as exhausted as Thorin felt, he vaguely wondered if the deputy got a Telegram too.

That thought left him quickly when Dwalin looked at Thorin with confusion. Dwalin tossed his hat on his desk, it landed with a soft thud. The man slowly walked around to Thorin before he leaned back against the table. He crossed his arms. Dwalin flinched in pain as he did.

Thorin cringed as he saw, Thorin knew Dwalin wasn’t fully healed, but the man wouldn’t stay home no matter how much he was begged, bribed or told to. So Thorin let him keep working, (more like didn’t have a choice)

“Well, I’ll be,” Dwalin chuckled, eyeing Thorin. “What are you doin’ here so early? You usually ain’t this eager to start the day.”

Thorin sighed, his fingers tapped impatiently on the desk. Without a word, he picked up the telegram card.

“I’ve been debating whether to burn this thing in the stove or not all morning,” Thorin grumbled, handing the telegram over like it was the most offensive thing in fifty miles.

Dwalin took it with a smirk, glancing at the Telegram. His eyes moved to the card back to Thorin, then down to the card again. Slowly, he snatched it up and read it.

After a few moments the smirk slipped off Dwalin’s face, replaced with something more serious.

“What do you make of it?” Thorin asked, already half annoyed by the silence.

Dwalin narrowed his eyes, holding the card up to the lamp light as if checking for anything else. “Thorin,” he began carefully, “do you have any clue who this is from?”

Thorin leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up in frustration. “No! I’ve been rackin’ my brain over it, and I can’t figure out who this ‘B’ is supposed to be!”

Dwalin paused and slowly turned his head to squint at Thorin. He shot Thorin a look that made the sheriff pause and stare back. “What?” He asked after a beat of silence.

The deputy let out a long, exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you stupid, or are you just playin’ dumb?”

Thorin straightened in his seat, the irritation from before coming back ten fold. “Excuse me?”

Before Thorin could get another word in, Dwalin cut him off, shaking the telegram at him. “It’s Bilbo, you idiot.”

Thorin blinked, surprised. His expression darkened. “Bilbo?” Granted he had started to think the same thing but- “That outlaw’s not that dumb! And, even if you were right, why would he sign the telegram? It’s too obvious.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes, tossing the card back onto Thorin’s desk. “He clearly wants you to know it’s him! -You really think someone else is gonna go through the trouble of sendin’ your dumb ass a message like this?”

Thorin crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenched. “It could be anyone. What's the point then? Why tell me about a train?”

Dwalin let out a grunt, standing up and grabbing his hat. “I’ll tell ya what-he’s tryin’ to get under your skin or he’s just fuckin’ with ya. And by the look of it, he’s succeedin’.”

Thorin bristled. “Where’s your proof?! I'm tellin’ you! If it was Bilbo, I’d know!”

Dwalin raised an eyebrow as he fixed his hat back on his head. “Fuckin’ shit Thorin! Ya really think Bilbo plays by the rules? Outlaws like him, they make their own rules. Now, we can either sit here and argue about it, or we can head to the train station to see if I’m right.”

Thorin’s eyes narrowed, his pride burning in him. He wanted to prove Dwalin wrong, but he couldn’t deny that there was something about this that gnawed at him.

Thorin stood up, grabbing his own hat and putting it on his head with more force than necessary.

“Fine, We’ll go. If this turns out to be nothin’, I’m holdin’ you responsible for draggin’ me out there.” Thorin grumbled as he stomped out of the office.

Dwalin smirked and quickly followed. “Oh Sheriff, I’m sure it’ll be well worth the trip.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

They had been waiting for hours. Thorin checked the clock on the station wall and let out an impatient “tsk.” Dwalin, who was leaning against a wooden pole, glanced over at the noise.

“Ya gonna keep doing that every five minutes?” Dwalin asked, sounding frustrated.

Thorin got up from the bench he had been sitting on with a frustrated grunt. “We’ve been here for hours, and there’s no train. It's gettin’ hot, and I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast!”

Dwalin raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Ya sound like a child.”

Thorin shot him a glare, opening his mouth to retort. Another voice interrupted.

“Uncle!” Fíli yelled as he quickly came up the stairs. “There you are! Ma got worried when you two weren’t in the office.”

“Yeah! She brought lunch for you- unfortunately it must’ve mysteriously disappeared” Kíli said as he shrugged before he came over and stole Thorin’s hat.

The boy plopped it on his head and beamed at his brother. Thorin gave the boy an unimpressed look and snatched his hat back. “Uh-huh sure it did. Tell your momma I’m sorry, but we’re waitin’ on a train so-“ Dwalin interrupted.

“I’ll tell you what we’re waitin’ on, we’re waitin’ for that outlaw, Bilbo.“ the deputy said as he glared at Thorin.

“Ohh! That explains the telegram then!” Kíli said as he nodded very seriously.

Fíli paused for a second then slowly looked at Kíli. “What telegram Kee?”

“The one on uncle’s desk! The B at the bottom makes so much more sense now-” Kíli tried to say, but he was quickly interrupted.

“What?!” Fíli shouted and whipped around completely to glare at his brother. “You saw that and didn’t think to tell ma or me?! Kee!!”

Kíli put his hands up in mock surrender “Well if I did, I wouldn’t of been able to eat lunch! And it didn’t seem like a big deal!”

“It couldn’t have been a bigger deal! What if uncle had gone out after him! No one would have known anything! You know he doesn’t tell anyone anything!”

Thorin decided to stop them when Fíli’s hands started twitching. He knew his sister would like to keep both her sons in mostly one piece

“Alright-alright! you two that’s enough-” but then there was a distant screeching noise. Thorin turned to look.

There was a low rumble too, that started to fill the air as a train moved closer, Thorin could see the billowing of smoke in the distance.

Dwalin stood up straighter, adjusting his hat. “Here it comes,” he said, he tilted his head as he watched the train. “…it’s movin’ fast. Too fast-“

Thorin frowned, watching the approaching train. The rumble grew louder each second that passed, the ground beneath them trembling as the train neared.

Dwalin was right, the train was going too fast, Thorin was pretty sure trains didn’t come barreling through stations like that, unless something was very, very wrong.

The train rocketed through the station in a blur of steam and steel, the air whipping around them as it shot past. Thorin barely had time to catch his hat as the force of the train sent a gust of wind blowing through the station’s platform.

Then, Thorin caught glimpses of human shapes through the windows of the passenger cars, people, civilians- were trapped in that train.

“Hell,” Dwalin muttered, his eyes widening. “You don’t think…”

“Were those?” Fíli asked quietly by Thorin’s side.

Thorin’s jaw clenched, his anger flared. Dwalin was right. Bilbo had sent the message, but this wasn’t just some ordinary train coming through town. This was a hostage situation.

As the end of the train sped past, Thorin’s eyes locked onto a figure standing on the roof of the rear car. His heart lurched when he recognized the figure, he was standing tall and confident despite the speed.

Bilbo Baggins, tipped his hat and bowed with exaggerated enthusiasm. When the outlaw looked back up, his eyes quickly met Thorin’s and Thorin felt a surge of anger and adrenaline. Even though he couldn’t see it Thorin could feel the smug smile on Bilbo’s face.

Dwalin let out a low chuckle that immediately had Thorin glaring at him, this wasn’t funny. “Told ya it was him.”

Thorin clenched his fists. “We don’t got time for this, Those people are in danger!”

Dwalin’s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing. “Right. I’ll gloat later.”

Thorin turned to his nephews. “Fíli your honorary deputy till I get back! Understand?”

Fíli stuttered a bit before quickly shouting after them. “What- but! Uncle wait”

“What about me!” Kíli whined with a huff.

“Tell your mother she’s sheriff if I don’t come back!” Thorin yelled as Dwalin mounted their horses.

Thorin kicked his heels into his horse’s side, urging her forward, and Dwalin was right behind him. The sound of hooves thundered against the ground as they raced after the train.

“What do you think his plan is,” Dwalin called out over the wind, giving another flip to his reins as they sped along the tracks.

But Thorin couldn’t answer, his focus was on the retreating figure of the outlaw. how Bilbo had managed this, he’d probably never know.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Bilbo dropped down onto the Gangway, his boots hitting the metal with a soft thud. He straightened, dusting off his poncho unnecessarily.

The wind whipped around him still. With a quick motion, he stepped into the passenger car. And pulled his mask down. He took a deep breath and looked around.

The inside of the car was dimly lit, the lamps flickered as the train cars swayed dangerously. Bilbo took a moment to survey the “passengers.” Each seat was filled, but not with people, no, he didn’t want anyone to get hurt after all.

Instead the seats were occupied by dummies, dressed in old clothes Bilbo had managed to get from whoever he could, most only being shirts or old hats.

The figures sat still and lifeless, rocking with the cars their heads slumped forward as if they were sleeping. A few had faces sloppily drawn onto their cloth heads.

Bilbo smiled to himself, the sight of the dummies filling him with a sense of satisfaction. The ruse had worked perfectly. He had to give himself credit for creativity.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” He said as he glanced at the back of the car.

Bilbo’s eyes landed on his right-hand man, who was leaning back casually in one of the seats, his arms crossed. The man’s sharp brown eyes scanned the room with an approving nod.

“As impressive as it is crazy,” his right-hand man said as he shook his head. “Are you sure it worked boss?” The man’s tone was light, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes.

Bilbo nodded, walking down the aisle between the dummies inspecting his work. “Oh, it worked. Trust me, Thorin’s the kind of lawman who can’t resist a baited hook.” Bilbo nodded to one of the Dummies as he sat down across from his right-hand man. “Especially if it involves a train full of ‘innocent’ passengers. He’ll be on board soon enough.”

“… Is this all really just to see if those stories about the sheriff hold water?” The man asked quietly as he leaned forward, giving Bilbo a strange look.

Bilbo tapped the man’s hat. He quickly moved to fix his hat with a grumble. “You, my dear friend, worry too much,” Bilbo said with a sly smile. “You know how people love to blow things out of proportion”

His right-hand man smirked back. “I don’t have anyone else to worry over B, and you happen to be the most worrisome thing in my life”

Bilbo rolled his eyes and sighed. He leaned back against the seat, the smile fading from his lips as his usual bravado slipped away. “I’m sorry.” He muttered.

His right-hand man looked over, “What for, B?” He asked, he sounded concerned. “You didn’t do anything”

“For making you help me again… I didn’t realize so much of your old life was waiting for you in that town. If I’d known- I should have known…” Bilbo trailed off, glancing down.

The right-hand man waved it off, letting out a quiet sigh. “No need to apologize for that, boss man. Neither of us knew, and it doesn’t matter now. I’d, without a second thought, go back there if you needed me to.”

Bilbo looked up at the man, He let a smile slip back on his face “I won’t make you go back there again, not unless you want to.”

They sat in silence for a beat, a moment passing between them. Then, with a sharp inhale, Bilbo stood, his grin turning more playful. “Come on, if we don’t hurry, they’ll catch up.”

“Right.” His right-hand stood up and readjusted his hat again to hide his face more. He followed after Blibo as the two men began to make their way further up the train.

“I want Thorin and Dwalin to feel… welcomed when they finally decide to hop aboard.” Bilbo looked back and smiled at his right-hand.

The man nodded. “As welcomed as they can be on this train anyway, all the muscle is in place…”

“Good,” Bilbo said with a satisfied nod. “Let’s make sure everything runs smoothly. I don’t want anyone dying on my train”

“Yes sir boss man,” the man hummed. “Paid off the conductor yesterday. He’ll take us straight through without any interruptions, if he can help it. And the thugs owe us a favor”

Bilbo nodded, “good, then let’s get moving, we need to make sure we can get to the engine to escape.”

The right-hand man shook his head. “You really are crazy Bilbo.” With that, the two of them made their way to the front of the train, the dummies sitting silently in their seats as the train rattled on through the open plains, waiting for the inevitable.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The landscape blurred as Thorin and Dwalin raced behind the train, their horses being pushed to their limit. The wind howled past them, tearing through their clothes as they thundered over the open plains.

Thorin could feel his heart pounding in time with the rhythm of everything; the gallop of hooves, the rattling train wheels.

Ahead, the train barreled forward, the smoke from its engine trailing behind like a dark cloud. It cut through the open land, speeding forward.

Thorin looked ahead and saw a narrow bridge over a large river, he cussed under his breath and turned his head towards Dwalin. “Dwalin! We need to get on that train! Now!” He shouted as loud as he could.

Dwalin gave a sharp nod and spurred his horse, digging his heels into his horse’s side. His horse surged forward, cutting through the wind as Dwalin leaned low like a horse racer.

Dwalin reached out, his fingers brushing the iron handle on the back of the caboose car, he pushed himself forward, then the train’s wheels screeched loudly as it hit a sharp curve, the cars swaying dangerously from side to side.

He missed the handle and as he was about to fall, in a moment of panic, grabbed the railing with his other hand. The force pulled him out of his saddle, with a grunt of pain Dwalin hauled himself up.

The second his boots finally hit the metal platform with a heavy thud he had to use the railing to keep himself upright. He stood there for a moment, catching his breath, wincing as he gripped his shoulder.

He looked behind him and turned. He shouted over the roar of the wind and train. “Thorin!” He reached out his hand and Thorin nodded.

Thorin's horse struggled to keep pace even before he leaned forward and spurred his horse to go faster. She tried to run faster but Thorin could feel her falter. He leaned out, reaching for Dwalin’s outstretched hand.

Dwalin surged forward, grabbing Thorin’s wrist, and with a powerful yank, he pulled the sheriff off his horse. Thorin’s stomach lurched as he left the saddle, but before he could process the motion, his feet slammed onto the platform of the caboose. He stumbled for a second, but quickly found his balance.

Their horses fell back. But they kept following the train at a slower speed. The train roared onto the narrow bridge and the horse broke off to cross though the river instead.

For a moment, the two of them just stood there, breathing heavily. Dwalin still leaned heavily against the railing, clutching his shoulder.

Thorin glanced at him. “You alright?”

“Yep.” Dwalin grunted, he didn’t even look up.

“You sure? That didn’t look-” Thorin tried to ask but snapped his mouth shut when Dwalin glared at him.

Dwalin gritted his teeth. “Ask me one more stupid question, and I’ll slap you upside the head.”

Thorin raised his hands in mock surrender, “Fine. Relax.”

They stood there in silence for a beat, the bridge speeding past beneath them, the clatter of the wheels filling the air. Thorin looked down at the tracks, watching the blur of the river below, before turning back to Dwalin.

“That was close,” Thorin muttered.

Dwalin let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “the word close isn’t the right word for what that was”

Thorin nodded, glancing toward the train. He exchanged a look with Dwalin, who took a steadying breath before pushing himself off the railing. “Come on, let’s move,” Thorin said.

With a little difficulty, they managed to budge the door that leads inside open. The car was a mess, crates and tools had been thrown around. They carefully made their way through the clutter, checking any would-be hiding places before heading into the passenger cars.

The moment they entered the passenger car, Thorin’s instincts kicked in as he dodged a fist, pulling Dwalin with him. The man was burly, his face set in a seemingly permanent sneer.

he swung again, his heavy fist straight at Thorin. He barely had time to react before the punch connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backwards. He forced himself to recover quickly.

The sheriff squared himself up and threw his own punch, landing a solid hit to the man’s gut. He quickly dodged the next punch and threw another.

Meanwhile, Dwalin found himself face-to-face with a different goon on the opposite side of the car, he was a lanky man with a crooked grin. Dwalin tried to square his shoulders but hissed in pain instead.

He grabbed at his shoulder but the goon lunged didn’t even give him a second to breathe as he swung at Dwalin hard, he quickly put his arms up and blocked.

Thorin, after a few rough exchanges, managed to kick the man in his stomach to force him on his knees before landing a hard jab at the back of the man’s head. The man dropped like a bag of bricks.

Thorin stood there for a moment breathing heavily, he turned to see Dwalin wrestling with his own opponent. Thorin rushed over, landing a quick blow to the man’s side, allowing Dwalin to finish him off.

As they caught their breath, Dwalin let out a sudden laugh. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

Thorin turned, confused, only to see what Dwalin was laughing at. stuffed dummies, dressed in old clothes, sparsely sat in the passenger seats. They definitely looked like real passengers from a distance.

Thorin growled and frowned. “Bilbo! Damn that outlaw! Damn him!” he muttered under his breath, stomping through the car, checking each seat as he went. He flipped over one of the dummies in frustration, gritting his teeth.

“Looks like you’ve been had, Sheriff,” Dwalin teased, his voice still strained.

Thorin decided to ignore his deputy, and he straightened up. “We need to keep moving.”

Just as the words left his mouth, the door behind them slammed open. A group of Bilbo’s thugs barreled into the car, guns drawn.

They all stood in stock still. Thorin blinked in surprise before barking, “Move!” As his hand darted to his gun. He shot at the wall behind the men and the goons ducked away. Dwalin and Thorin bolted past them and into the open car the men just came from.

They bolted through the cars as fast as they could, dodging bullets and scrambling over overturned dummies. The train jolted beneath them.

As they ran, Thorin’s eyes darted to the narrow gap between the gangway’s. He knew they couldn’t keep running like this if they didn’t shake the outlaws soon, they’d be overrun.

Thorin glanced back, then quickly shoved his gun back in its holster before grabbing hold of the lever that would uncouple the rear passenger cars. He heaved it downward with all his strength.

There was a metallic clank followed by a sudden lurch as the cars separated from the rest of the train. Thorin and Dwalin stood there catching their breath, watching as the uncoupled cars slowly drift away.

Thorin sighed heavily and turned to Dwalin, “Let’s go,” Thorin muttered, stepping back into the remaining cars. There were only a few more left now. The train began to pick up speed at the lost weight.

Inside, the car was eerily quiet. The stillness was unsettling, the only sound the faint creaking of the train as it rattled along the tracks. Thorin’s eyes scanned the room. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something, or someone, was watching them.

Dwalin stood beside him, his hand resting on the hilt of his gun. “This feels off,” he whispered to Thorin. Thorin nodded and took a step forward.

Then a low chuckle echoed from behind them, sending a cold shiver down his spine.

They spun around, Standing behind them in the doorway they just came from was Bilbo, his face covered by his handkerchief. His eyes gleamed with amusement, and he leaned casually against the wall, as if this were all just a game.

Thorin’s jaw clenched as he glanced toward the other end of the car, his stomach sinking when he saw Bilbo’s right-hand man standing there, blocking their only other way out. They were trapped.

Dwalin moved closer to Thorin, their backs pressed together, as they quickly drew their weapons. Bilbo and his right-hand man drew their weapons in return, both of them moving with ease, as if they had done this a hundred times before.

The four of them stood at a standstill, guns pointed at one another, the tension in the room thick enough to cut.

“Well, well,” Bilbo said, his voice dripping with mockery. “Look what we have here. The fearless Sheriff Oakenshield and his trusty deputy, running through my train like children playing tag.”

“Fucking, god damn it,” Thorin cursed under his breath.

Bilbo’s grin widened beneath the handkerchief. “Now, now, Sheriff,” he said with a teasing lilt. “No need for foul language. Why don’t you be a good little lawman and take a seat? You look like you’ve had quite the day.”

“Not happenin’,” Dwalin growled, his voice low.

Bilbo sighs and rubs his forehead. “You two really are a headache, you know?”

Thorin kept his eyes locked on Bilbo, his mouth moved before his mind could stop him. “Why?” he asked, his voice surprisingly steady. “Why the train, the dummies? What’s your game this time, Bilbo?”

Bilbo’s eyes glinted with amusement as he let his hand drop away from his head, he raised a brow. Why?” he repeated back playfully. “I got bored, Sheriff. It’s as simple as that.” Bilbo shrugged.

Thorin felt the bubbling of frustration again. “You expect me to believe that? You risked all this just because you were bored?”

Bilbo chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Thorin. “Well, when you’ve lived the kind of life I have, boredom is the most dangerous thing. I like to keep myself entertained.”

“Entertained?” Dwalin spat angrily. “By messing with people? By running around killin’ and stealin’ from innocent folks?”

Bilbo shrugged. “Innocent, not so innocent. It’s all a matter of perspective. I do what I have to.”

Dwalin growled and moved to face Bilbo, Thorin’s grip on his gun tightened and he shot his deputy a look. “Enough! What do you really want, Bilbo?”

Bilbo’s grin widened. “Let’s just say I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. The legend of Sheriff Oakenshield. The man who never misses. So far, not impressed sheriff.”

Thorin’s eyes narrowed, his patience was wearing thin now. “You think this is some sort of game, but it’s not going to end the way you think.”

Bilbo tilted his head, his words taking a more serious edge to them. “Oh, I’m well aware of how this ends, Sheriff. But I think we both know it won’t be-.”

Without warning, Dwalin bolted forward, charging straight at Bilbo. Unable to move faster enough to dodge Bilbo, the deputy ends up crashing to the floor.

The two of them tumbled backward, their guns clattering to the floor as they wrestled, Throin blinked in surprise at his deputy.

The two men grappled furiously, fists flying and boots skidding on the train’s wooden floor. Dwalin, despite his shoulder, was relentless, using brute force to pin Bilbo down.

Dwalin was scrambling for his gun. He was able to snatch it up. Then, just as fast as Dwalin was, Bilbo's right-hand man pressed his gun to the side of Thorin’s head, the cold metal digging into the sheriff’s temple.

“Drop it, Deputy,” the man ordered, his voice ice-cold. “Unless you want to see how fast I can pull this trigger.”

Dwalin froze, his brows furrowed as his eyes darted between Thorin and the gun, his breathing heavy. He looked at his own gun then he muttered a curse under his breath and let his weapon fall to the floor with a clatter.

“Good boy, Now, let’s make this easy.” Bilbo sneered as he got back on his feet, he rubbed his jaw where Dwalin had hit him. Bilbo grabbed Dwalin’s gun and pointed it at him. “Move to the back, nice and slow. Don’t try anything stupid.”

Dwalin glared at Bilbo, his jaw clenched, but he did as he was told, stepping backward toward the rear of the train car.

Bilbo turned to his right-hand man who still had his gun to the sheriff’s head. Bilbo scooped up his own gun and holstered Dwalin’s

“Keep an eye on him,” Bilbo said, nodding to his partner as he took the man’s place. “Make sure he doesn’t try anything else.”

The right-hand man gave a curt nod, he trained his gun on Dwalin as he walked over to the man, his expression hard.

Thorin remained still, the different but not new weight of Bilbo’s gun pressing against his skull. He looked around trying to think his way out. “Why, Bilbo?” Thorin finally asked, just hoping to distract the man. “What’s the point of all this?”

Bilbo chuckled softly, though there was a hint of something else beneath the laugh. “Why not? It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“You call this fun? You risk innocent lives for fun?” Dwalin spat, glaring at Bilbo with open disdain.

Bilbo’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, his finger hovering dangerously over the trigger. “I’d be careful if I were you, Deputy. One more word out of you, and I might just throw you off this train.”

Dwalin’s mouth snapped shut, but his eyes burned with fury.

Thorin glanced sideways at Bilbo, searching for any opening, anything. “You’re not going to get away with this if you kill me, you know,” Thorin said, his voice low.

Bilbo grinned beneath his handkerchief, his grip on the gun unwavering. “Oh, Sheriff, I’m not going to kill you-” But just as Bilbo was about to say more, there was a sudden commotion behind them.

Bilbo’s right-hand man grunted in pain, Dwalin had slammed his elbow into the man’s face. The force of the blow sent them both reeling backward, and before anyone could react, the two men went tumbling out of the back of the train car.

“Dwalin!” Thorin shouted, his eyes wide with shock.

Bilbo’s face twisted in a mixture of horror and confusion. “What the hell just happened?” he muttered, his grip on his gun loosening as he stared in disbelief at the open door.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Dwalin and Bilbo’s right-hand man tumbled to the ground in a heap, the impact knocking the wind out of both of them as they rolled to a stop in the dirt.

For a moment, they both just lay there, groaning in pain, trying to catch their breath.

The right-hand man rolled over onto his side, clutching his ribs. “What… the FUCK!” he gasped, dragging himself to his knees. “Are you fucking crazy or somethin’? You just threw us out of the back of a train!”

Dwalin was still trying to catch his breath. He spat on the ground and pushed himself to his feet, wincing as his shoulder twinged painfully. “I should be askin’ you that, outlaw,” he growled, “You started this mess!”

The right-hand man groaned, clutching his side as he staggered up. “Ugh! As pig-headed as ever! You could have killed us, you idiot!” He wiped some dirt from his face, glaring at Dwalin.

Dwalin squinted at him, feeling an unsettling flicker of familiarity. There was something about this man; his stance, his voice, Dwalin didn’t know, but it tugged at the back of his mind. “Who are you?” Dwalin demanded, his eyes narrowing.

The right-hand man made sure his mask was still covering his face, by some miracle it was but his hat was long gone. He huffed quietly. “Figured you’d have recognized me by now, Deputy,” he said, “Then again, I guess I didn’t make much of an impression back in the day.”

Dwalin’s jaw tightened, “You… I know you, don’t I?” Dwalin searched the man’s face, hoping to see anything familiar. He landed on the man’s wild Reddish brown hair but, He still couldn’t place it.

“Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t.” The right-hand man said, he cracked his knuckles. “It's too late now.”

Dwalin snarled and charged at him, his injured shoulder be damned. The right-hand man dodged, Dwalin’s fists were heavy, but the right-hand man was quick, ducking and weaving as best he could despite his own lingering pain.

They grappled. Dwalin landed a solid punch to the right-hand man’s gut, forcing the man to double over with a grunt. Before Dwalin could land another blow, the outlaw lashed out with a well-placed fist to Dwalin’s jaw.

The crack echoed as Dwalin staggered back with a hiss. Dwalin reached out for the man, the man scrambled back and made a dash for the distance tree line.

“Damn it!” Dwalin shouted, shaking off the hit and trying to give chase, but his body wasn’t cooperating. The outlaw disappeared as Dwalin stumbled and dropped to his knees, breathing heavily and cursing under his breath.

Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, he groaned in pain and frustration, how could he let that outlaw slip away from him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It hadn’t been more than a few moments since the two men had fallen from the back of the train car. Bilbo stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the open doorway, wide with shock. His heart raced, but his mind was scattered, unable to focus on anything but the image of his right-hand man and the deputy tumbling off the moving train.

For once, Bilbo couldn’t think clearly. The only thing he could focus on was the nagging concern. It was horribly foreign to him.

Dwalin and-… he couldn’t shake the uneasy worry of whether or not the two men survived the fall. He never left people behind, not if he had a choice. Even if they weren’t on his side.

Suddenly, without warning, Thorin slammed his elbow into Bilbo’s side. Bilbo yelped in surprise, the sudden pain knocking him off balance. Thorin punched him in the jaw, hard and Bilbo stumbled to the floor.

His gun slipped from his hand, clattering loudly onto the ground loudly. As it did the gun went off with a deafening bang. Thorin flinched, instinctively ducking, but the bullet never hit anything.

There weren't any bullets to hit things, Bilbo’s gun had been loaded with blanks, Bilbo could see the realization sparked in Thorin then the fresh wave of anger.

Bilbo held his face where Thorin had struck him, his mind reeling. His thoughts were muddled, he hadn’t expected this, not so soon. Pain throbbed through his jaw, his wide eyes locked onto Thorin’s.

“You-” Bilbo began, his voice rasping with both shock and disbelief, but before he could finish, Thorin was on him.

In a blur of motion, Thorin lunged forward, his hand gripping the front of Bilbo’s shirt with unrelenting force. Bilbo barely had time to react before Thorin slammed him against the nearest wall of the train car.

The impact made his brain rattle inside his skull, his back hitting the wall with a thud. A sharp, involuntary whine escaped him. Bilbo blinked rapidly, trying to catch his breath and clear his blurring vision.

Thorin’s grip on his shirt only tightened, hoisting him higher until his boots barely scraped the floor. The sheriff’s eyes were burning with a rage Bilbo didn’t expect, he could feel the anger radiating off the sheriff in waves.

For the first time in a long while, Bilbo wasn’t sure how to talk his way out of this. He wasn’t sure if he could talk his way out. Bilbo twisted in Thorin’s grip, kicking wildly as he tried to break free, cursing under his breath.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Thorin roared, his booming voice. Bilbo stared at him with wide eyes, “Do you ever take anything seriously?! Is this just some fucked game your playin’?!” Thorin’s eyes narrowed, “Answer me!” he demanded, giving Bilbo a sharp shake that left his head spinning.

But then, Bilbo felt a spark hit him. His struggling faded into nothing as he sized up Thorin, a calculating calm settling over him. He had an idea, it could either get him out of this or go horribly wrong.

Thorin loomed over Bilbo by at least a head or more, the sheriff had broad shoulders. Bilbo could feel every bit of strength in the way the sheriff held him pinned, like he weighed hardly anything at all.

There was no way he’d be able to overpower Thorin, let not like this. no way to just kick the man off him and run. So if brute force wouldn’t get him out of this, maybe charm would.

“Why, sheriff,” Bilbo purred, his voice low,“if you wanted to run me up against a wall this badly, all you had to do was ask.”

Thorin’s eyes widened, and Bilbo watched the sheriff’s grip falter, he let Bilbo down, a confused expression found itself in Thorin’s face. “What-”

Without hesitation, Bilbo drove his knee sharply into Thorin’s stomach. Thorin let out a grunt of surprise as the air rushed out of him quickly.

“Sorry, Sheriff!” Bilbo muttered, “nothin’ personal, really, your just not my type.” In one smooth motion, Bilbo scooped up his gun from the floor, even though he knew it was useless, and bolted for the door at the back of the train car.

Bilbo could hear Thorin cursing under his breath. He could also hear the pounding footsteps behind him as he climbed up the side of the train, hoisting himself onto the roof quickly.

The cold wind stung his face as he studied the hat on his head. Bilbo paused, glancing behind him, his gaze darting to where Dwalin and his right-hand man had tumbled off the train earlier.

Concern bubbled up inside him, worse than before. He didn’t want them to be hurt; he couldn't think about them being hurt.

“Bilbo!” Thorin’s voice carried over the roar of the train. Bilbo locked eyes with the sheriff, he was already running before the sheriff’s feet hit the roof of the car.

Bilbo’s heart pounded in time with the train’s wheels beneath him. His mind quickly searched for a way out. He briefly wondered if he’d survive if he jumped off. A little panic flickered in his chest as he glanced back, seeing just how close Thorin was.

Bilbo desperately wanted to push himself, to find some way out, but the roof was narrow, and there was nowhere left to go. His luck had run out, he had lost.

Thorin suddenly lunged, grabbing Bilbo by the arm, Bilbo twisted himself out of Thorin’s grip, he couldn’t just give up here, he couldn’t. He tried to duck under the sheriff's arms as he grabbed at the outlaw again.

The wind angrily whipped around them, the train car swaying beneath their feet.

Thorin managed to grab Bilbo’s poncho and gave a good yanked, dragging the outlaw backwards by the force. Bilbo twisted and kicked, but Thorin’s grip was relentless.

The sheriff had the upper hand. Bilbo grit his teeth as they continued to struggle atop the speeding train.

Then, without warning, Thorin’s foot slipped.

Bilbo’s eyes widened as he watched the sheriff lose his balance, his body teetering dangerously on the edge. Before Thorin could catch himself, he tumbled off the roof, hitting the tracks below with a heavy thud.

Bilbo froze, his breath catching in his throat as he scrambled to the edge, staring down at Thorin who was lying on the tracks. As the distance between them grew, all Bilbo could do was watch, his heart pounding in his chest.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎︎ 𐬾 ༅ ༅ 𐬾 ☀︎︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Thorin lay on the ground, groaning in pain, every muscle in his body burned and ached. Falling off a train was as bad as he thought it would be. His mind was still trying to catch up with what had happened when, faintly, he heard someone shouting in the distance.

“Thorin!”

It was Bilbo’s voice. There was an urgency to it, one that made Thorin’s heart skip a beat despite everything. He didn’t have time to think about why Bilbo was shouting at him, but instinct kicked in.

“Move!”

Without thinking, Thorin rolled to the side, just as the uncoupled passenger cars came speeding down the tracks, rattling by in a blur of metal. They hadn’t slowed down yet, and had Thorin stayed where he was, he’d have been flattened.

As the last car whizzed by, Thorin lay still, breathing heavily and trying to steady his pulse. He wasn’t sure how close it had been, but he wasn’t eager to find out.

Finally, he took a deep breath and sat up. His head pounded, and every inch of him hurt, but he was alive. His eyes drifted down to the tracks beside him, and that’s when he saw it, his hat. Or, what used to be his hat.

Thorin groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Another hat,” he muttered to himself.

With a wince, he forced himself to his feet, ignoring the sharp pain that shot up his side as he stood. His eyes scanned the tracks, searching for any sign of Dwalin. His heart pounded harder as worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind.

“Dwalin…?” He called as he limped down the tracks, his pace picking up despite the pain.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spotted Dwalin sitting near the edge of the tracks,he held his shoulder. Thorin hurried over, kneeling beside him.

Dwalin’s face was bruised up pretty bad, he had dirt stains all over him. Dwalin lifted his head when he heard Thorin. the deputy grunted in irritation more than pain.

“You look like hell,” Thorin muttered, quickly checking him over.

Dwalin rolled his eyes and grumbled. “Cause you look like prince fucking charming.”

Thorin frowned. “…Did you get him?”

Dwalin gave Thorin a look and tried to get up. “No. Bastard slipped away.” He winced as he tried to move his shoulder. “Got a good hit on me, and next thing I know, I’m eating dirt while he’s running off.”

Thorin cursed under his breath, glancing around. The train was long gone by now and the uncoupled cars were still slowing down in the distance.

Thorin offered a hand to Dwalin and pulled the man up easily, he couldn’t help but let his mind get muddled with thoughts. Bilbo tricked them, had them play his games. What was his angel, what was his plan.

But the loudest thought was one he couldn’t even begin to answer; Why did he save Thorin?

Dwalin noticed the look on Thorin’s face and shook his head. “You think too loud, Thorin. That outlaw’s not gonna slip away forever, we’ll get him.”

Thorin nodded. “Right, let’s get home,” Thorin said, he pushed down his frustration, he didn’t have time for it now.

With little difficulty, the two men limped down the tracks. Bilbo may have gotten away this time, but Thorin wasn’t going to let him for long. He had a plan.

───── ꧁✪꧂ ─────

And also, @shantismurf. Stop it, stop being so cleverly close. You don’t understand! You nearly put the nail in the coffin. You swong and you missed twice and if it weren’t for that, you would have put the damn nail in there.

@shurikthereject @midnightstar789

[For anyone Who didn’t want to @ for this please tell me or I will continue to do so till otherwise.]

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #fanfic #bagginshield #the hobbit thorin #thorin x bilbo #cowboy au #western #thorins company #outlaws and lawmen

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shiny-kaibernyte · 11 months ago

Note

Hi hi!!! The last request you did for me was amazing!!! 🤩🤩

This time I’m asking for Kieran with a sweet trainer that trains fire types? Maybe their ace happens to be a Delphox? 👀 (Doesn’t have to be ofc 😅)

I freaking love this idea. I do hope you don't mind I used a Chandelure as the ace instead. Its my third favourite Pokémon plus I may or may not have a personal grudge against the fox... it has wronged me in many ways. This is no where near my best work and I must admit I wasn't to happy with it. But at the end of the day I do hope you at least tolerate it

A Sweet Ember | Kieran x Reader (Fire specialist)

Pokémon Scarlett and Violet Indigo Disk DLC Spoilers ahead!

After a bug type trainer got a little to aggressive with his words, Kieran almost got physical himself. But with your convincing, Kieran stood down and got to watch his little flame burn this trainer to a crisp.

Warnings: Small argument, Minor threats. Fluff

SPOILER WARNING: Spoilers for The Indigo Disk Ending

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

Ever since the journey to Area Zero, Kieran had been trying his best recently to undo the mistakes of his past. Many had been understanding of his passions, sharing the same drive to be stronger. Although there were the odd few who saw Kieran’s methods too brutal and unruly to forgive. He’d been able to sway many in his favour, using gifts and apologies when possible. Though you made it especially easy; having such a calming presence and welcoming smile, you were the main reason Kieran was even able to gain anyone's favour. And he was eternally grateful to call you his. Without you, he never would have gotten to this point. But even you couldn’t sway everyone. “Don’t take it to heart, Kieran! I'm sure they still need time to come around…” You pleaded, resting your hand on Kieran’s shoulder, feeling it sink down in defeat.

“What’s the point? No matter what I say, this kid won’t listen to a word! It's hopeless…” Kieran’s voice was laced with doubt and quilt. After listening to him argue back and forth with this bug type trainer, it would seem Kieran was especially harsh to him.

“Why not let me talk to him? Maybe I can convince him to listen to you.” With a gentle smile you move to stand in front of your boyfriend, resting your hand on his cheek so he’d look at you, a light peep coming from your bag, as your Litwick popped its adorable little face out to encourage Kieran.

His doubt washed away when he saw your smile, returning it in kind as he took the hand on his cheek into his. “You're right… you always were better with words than me. But I'm coming with you… with how he was talking to me, I will not stand for him treating you that way!”

“You’re adorable, you know that.” Kissing his cheek, your smile only brightens at the sight of his flushed face. “Alright, you can come, but please stand just out of sight. I don’t think Buggy would be too keen to talk with me if he saw you there…”

“Right! I’ll stay out of sight, but if he says anything hurtful to you, I'm stepping in!” His determination was hard to ignore, so with a sweet chuckle you took his hand, dragging him off in the direction that bug trainer had run off in, your Litwick waving its tiny arms in excitement.

It didn’t take long to find your Buggy friend, he’d run off towards the School entrance. You’d spotted him battling a Doduo just outside the gate; and Kieran had spotted the perfect hiding spot too. With a quick squeak, Kieran let go of your hand and sneaked his way over to his new hiding spot, his years of hiding behind Carmen paying off. As soon as he was out of direct line of sight, you quickly made your own way over to this trainer, a warm smile on your face.

“Excuse me, I'm really sorry to disturb you but, could you spare a moment? I wanted to ask you something!” You question, tapping the trainer's shoulder lightly, making sure the fight he was having with the Doduo was over.

Spinning on his heel, Buggy stared down at you for a moment, he was a bit taller than you, so his presence was slightly looming as he stood proud, his arms crossed expectantly. “Well, ask away. Must be important if you're bothering me during my training.”

“Again, I am sorry about this, but I just wanted to ask what you thought about the Kieran news? How he’s trying to amend his mistakes. I'm sure you must have heard what everyone's been saying.” trying to be as unsuspecting as possible, you clasp your hands in front of you, continuing on your point. “I happened to notice you turning Kieran down earlier, and I was curious as to what caused you to do so? The fight seemed pretty heated.”

Raising his eyebrow, the boy only stared harder into you. “Strange thing to ask someone, what's it to ya? Is he a friend of yours? If so, I would steer clear, don’t buy into these ‘he’s changed’ rumours. He is a no good pain in my behind and after how he treated me. I'm not giving him the kind of day!”

“No, no, he isn’t a friend per say… Anyway, that's not important. Why not just hear him out? After all, these are just rumours, and you can't prove anything until you hear his side?” With an almost begging look in your eyes, you try to reason with him again, but all you got was a scowl and a judgmental gaze.

“Arceus you’re annoyingly persistent. Take a hint will ya, I ain’t interested in what that no good brat of a champion has to say. Or you for that matter. So buzz off!” He waved his hand at you, almost smacking you in the face if you hadn’t stepped back, your Litwick now cowering inside your bag now, before it had been intently watching the conversation, curiously waiting for every response.

Kieran suddenly appeared in front of you, startling the both of you. How he got to them from his hiding spot without being noticed; you’ll never know, but now wasn’t the time to think of that. Instead, your full attention was drawn to his face. Rage filled Kieran’s eyes, his Hydrapple's pokeball clutched in one of his hands, the other balled in a fist. Seems any hope he had of reasoning peacefully was gone the moment he got a bit too feisty with you. “Keep your hands away from them!”

“Kieran no!” You quickly scurry your way in front of him, placing both hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away. His glare never once leaves the trainer behind you.

“Hmph, shoulda figured you were his, the way you were questionin me an all… Shame the almighty champion has fallen this far from grace he has to call in his sweet little Litten to talk to me.” The boy mocked, poking your shoulder at the Litten part.

“Well, this ‘Litten’ has claws. So please don’t touch me unless you want to get burned!” You snap, wafting his hand away from you, still trying to hold back Kieran from out right punching him.

“ OOO seems little cupcake here's got a bite after all. Alright, tell you what! If you beat me in a 4v4 battle, I'll hear pretty boy out. Sounds fair?” He questioned, leaning back expectantly.

With a bright smile, you nod, clapping slightly as you speak. “Sounds like a fair deal! I’ll meet you at the arena then”

“Oh no, we're doing it right here, right now. Heal up and meet me by that rock over there. Hurry it up, will you? I'm not a patient guy.” Buggy stated. Taking a few steps away from you, leaning on the rock he had pointed out. You had no need to heal as you rarely engaged in battles, so you simply took a few paces away so there was plenty of room to battle.

“Destroy Him will you, love!?” Kieran demanded, placing his hand on his cheek, the burning fire in his eyes returned in yours. All you did was nod before Kieran placed a gentle kiss to your lips, moving behind you to watch you destroy this Insect of a trainer.

Your opponent started out with the best case scenario, a Scizor, a Pokémon with a four times weakness to fire. So without a second thought, you send out your most trusted Pokémon. Your Chandelure, a Pokémon you had raised since you were a little kid. Seems your Chandelure was feeling the same burning drive you were as its flames burned brighter than ever before. You could see this trainer visibly gulp once he had noticed your specialty, the red tones of your clothing and the very obvious Litwick in your bag, seemingly not enough of a hint, though your sweet personality and giving nature tended to accompany the burning passions most would see from a fire specialist.

You didn’t even need to bring the rest of your team out, as one by one, your Chandelure KO’d every single one of this trainer's team, you almost felt bad for the rest of your team missing out on this fiery display. Any sign of that cute persona you had was gone, replaced by a boiling hot drive. The flame in your eyes pushing your point across more with each attack you landed. And as soon as his final Pokémon fell, you claimed victory.

Refusing any money or BB points Buggy tried to give you, instead pushing him and Kieran closer together, demanding the pair talk this out and at least come to some form of mutual understanding. Good or bad, they were going to talk it out and your team was going to make sure that happens.

Chandelure floated behind you, eating a spicy berry you’d given it as a reward. Your Blazikin standing behind Kieran, and your Ninetales standing behind the Pest. Your little Litwick poking its eyes over the crease of your bag, watching the silent stare down unfold. Though the Pokémon swayed the pair from leaving, it didn’t exactly start them talking, the silence was burning your ears. This was going to be a long night.

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isaacarellanesismyhusband · 4 months ago

Text

it's okay... you're okay

pair: Walker Scobell x 17y/o!reader

summary: Walker is there to reassure y/n(she/her) that she has every right to feel how she feels after a fight with her absent father

masterlist | navigation

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

The room felt too small, too hot. Y/N stood in the center, her fists clenched so tight that her nails dug into her palms. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, drowning out the sound of her father’s voice. His excuses, his apologies, whatever the hell he was saying didn’t matter anymore. She didn’t want to hear it.

"Stop," she snapped, her voice shaking. "Just stop."

Her father went quiet, his eyes widening. He wasn’t used to this. The soft-spoken girl who had always looked at him with too much pain and not enough anger was gone. He didn’t know her anymore.

“I— I know I messed up,” he started, his hands raised like he could calm her down. Like this was some small misunderstanding.

“You left,” Y/N spat, her voice rising, filling the room. “You left us, and you didn’t care. You didn’t care about me. Or mom. Or... or her." Her sister, who picked up the pieces their mom couldn’t.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t give him a chance. It was like a dam had burst inside her, all the words she’d held in for so long, all the feelings she’d shoved down, finally spilling out.

“You just disappeared. And I... I spent years thinking it was my fault. That maybe if I’d been better... quieter... more like the daughter you wanted, you wouldn’t have left. I thought I wasn’t enough.”

Her voice cracked, and she hated it. She hated that she still cared, that she still hurt because of him.

“I blamed myself for everything. When I was little, I thought maybe if I’d been more like her, you wouldn’t have gone. But then I grew up and I realized that I couldn’t even trust anyone because of you. You made me feel like I wasn’t worth sticking around for.”

She was pacing now, her hands shaking, but she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop. Not now. Not when everything she’d kept buried was finally clawing its way out.

“I spent so long trying to get people to like me. To stay. I thought maybe if I was good enough for them, they wouldn’t leave like you did. But no matter how hard I tried, it never worked. Because no matter what I did, I always felt like they’d leave too. Because if my own dad didn’t want me, why would anyone else?”

Her father’s face was pale, his mouth set in a thin line, but Y/N didn’t care. She didn’t care about his excuses or his reasons anymore. She just wanted him to understand how badly he’d broken her.

“I needed you, and you weren’t there. Do you know what that does to a kid? Do you have any idea what it’s like to grow up wondering why your dad didn’t love you enough to stay?”

She felt the tears sting her eyes, but she blinked them back. She wouldn’t cry. Not for him. Not anymore.

“I was four when you left. Four. I didn’t understand then. I didn’t know why my dad didn’t come home anymore. And I waited. I waited for you to come back. Every night. For years. But you never did.”

Her chest felt tight, and she struggled to breathe, but she kept going. She had to say it all.

“And you know what the worst part is? I was sixteen before I finally realized it wasn’t my fault. Sixteen. I spent my whole life thinking I did something wrong, that I wasn’t good enough. But it was you. You’re the one who wasn’t enough.”

Her father’s face crumpled, and for a split second, she felt the smallest twinge of guilt. But it disappeared just as quickly.

“I don’t want your apology. I don’t want your excuses. I don’t care why you left anymore. I just... I just want you to know what you did to me. How you ruined everything. How every time I try to let someone in, I can’t. Because I’m terrified they’ll leave too. And it’s all because of you.”

The room was dead silent now, except for the sound of her ragged breathing. Her father looked like he wanted to say something, anything, but no words came out. Good. There was nothing left to say.

Y/N stood there, trembling, her heart racing in her chest. She’d said it. Everything she’d wanted to say for so long. And yet, she didn’t feel better. She just felt... empty. Like all that anger and hurt had been holding her together, and now that it was out, she didn’t know what was left.

“I don’t hate you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper now. “I just... I don’t need you anymore. And I never will.”

With that, she turned and walked out, leaving him behind. Like he had left her.

Y/N slammed the front door behind her and leaned against it, her chest heaving. The house was silent, but it didn’t feel peaceful. It felt hollow. Empty. Just like her.

She stumbled up the stairs, her legs shaky, her mind a blur. When she reached her room, she collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow.

The tears came out of nowhere. Hot, choking sobs that wracked her entire body. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. She thought confronting him would make her feel better. She thought it would give her some sense of relief or closure. But now... she just felt lost.

She pressed her face deeper into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound. Her chest hurt, her eyes burned, and she was so tired. So damn tired of feeling this way. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop crying.

Y/N didn’t know how long she laid there, curled up on her bed, feeling like she was falling apart from the inside out. Minutes? Hours? It didn’t matter. Nothing made sense anymore.

Before she even realized what she was doing, her hand reached for her phone, and she opened Walker’s contact without hesitation. He was the only person she could think of. The only one who might understand, even though she barely understood herself.

Her thumb hovered over the call button for a second, but then she pressed it. She needed to hear his voice. She needed *him*.

It rang once. Twice. Then his familiar voice came through, and somehow, the sound of it made her throat tighten all over again.

“Hey, Y/N—” he started, his usual upbeat tone there, but she cut him off with a shaky breath.

“I did it,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I told him everything.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, then Walker spoke, his voice softer this time. “Are you okay?”

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The simple question—one he asked so often—felt like it was unraveling something inside her.

“No,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I feel.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, nodding even though he couldn’t see her. “Yeah... yeah, I do.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

True to his word, ten minutes later there was a knock on her window. Y/N glanced up and saw Walker standing there, his hair messy from the wind, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. She managed a weak smile as she got up to let him in.

The second he climbed through the window, Walker’s arms were around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She hadn’t realized how much she needed it until that moment—the warmth, the comfort, the familiar scent of him.

“It’s okay,” he murmured into her hair. “You’re okay.”

She buried her face into his chest, and for a while, neither of them said anything. She just let herself be held, her breathing slowly evening out as the tension in her body began to fade.

After a few minutes, Walker pulled back just enough to look at her. His blue eyes were full of concern, but there was something else there too. Something steady, reassuring.

“What happened?” he asked gently, his hands resting on her shoulders.

Y/N took a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. “I... I don’t even know. I just snapped. I told him everything I’ve been holding in since I was a kid. All the anger, the hurt, how he ruined everything...” Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to keep talking. “I told him that he made me feel like I wasn’t enough. That it was my fault he left.”

Walker’s expression softened, his eyes flickering with understanding. “You didn’t go too far, Y/N.”

She blinked, her throat tightening again. “What if I did? What if I was too harsh?”

“No.” Walker’s voice was firm, but gentle. “He needed to hear it. He needed to understand what he put you through. You have every right to be angry. You have every right to feel what you’re feeling.”

Y/N stared at him, her chest aching in a way that was different from before. Less painful, but still heavy. “But what if I hurt him?”

Walker’s hands slid down to her arms, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Y/N, you’ve been hurting for years because of him. He left. He made those choices. And you have every right to let him know how that affected you. It’s not your responsibility to protect him from the truth.”

Y/N’s lip trembled, and she blinked rapidly, trying to hold back more tears. “But why do I still feel so... so lost?”

Walker pulled her into another hug, resting his chin on top of her head. “Because it’s complicated,” he said quietly. “Confronting him doesn’t magically fix everything. It’s okay to feel all messed up right now. But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

She let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes as she leaned into him. His arms tightened around her, and for the first time all day, she felt like maybe she wasn’t falling apart. Not completely.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered, his voice soft and warm. “For standing up for yourself. For telling him the truth. You didn’t deserve any of what he put you through. And you’re going to be okay.”

Y/N sniffed, a small, shaky laugh escaping her as she clung to him. “How do you always know what to say?”

Walker pulled back just enough to flash her that lopsided grin she loved so much. “It’s a talent. Plus, you’ve been my best friend forever. I think I’ve got the hang of this by now.”

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kat-thepoet · 4 months ago

Text

Invisible string

CHAPTER ONE

A/N: I did a poll even though I was going to write it lmao but here you go! This is going to be a long series so don't expect it to be a couple one shots.

Description: Flora Quinnell is a 23 year old who has been living in an orphanage with nuns. She's a mutant who has invisibility, telekinesis, and empathy abilities. She gets recruited by Charles Xavier to be a teacher at his school. Everything is all well until she meets Erik, who makes her life there a living hell.

Word count: 4605

I awoke to the warm embrace of sunlight pouring in through the open window, accompanied by a gentle morning breeze caressing my skin. The weather in July was unexpectedly cool. I quickly checked the clock on the wall-9 a.m. It was Sunday, which meant most of the kids were in Bible study, meaning this morning would be peaceful.

I've lived at this orphanage my entire life. Left here as a newborn, the nuns took me in. For 23 years, this has been my home, and I'm grateful for the life I've had. I can't imagine anyone caring for me better than my godmother, Nun Melinda. She raised me as if I were her own child. I don't feel anger or bitterness toward whoever left me here. In time, I stopped thinking about my parents, certain they had their reasons. After all, they left me in a place where I've been cared for and loved in a world that's not always kind to people like me.

I reached under my bed and pulled out the willow basket I was left in. Its light brown weaving remained intact, and inside, the small yellow blanket lay neatly folded. A faint scent still lingered-of a newborn. When I was younger, I would clutch it at night, longing for the parents I'd never know. Over time, I realized perhaps it was for the best, and I slowly moved on.

As I looked through my closet, I decided to wear a brown sweater with a skirt that fell just above the knee. I combed my hair, washed my face at the small sink in the corner of my room, and brushed my teeth. Afterward, I grabbed the book sitting on my nightstand and walked downstairs to the back porch.

As I sat in my favorite chair, I watched the birds chirp in the beautiful morning light. The flowers swayed gently in the breeze, and the smell of coffee filled the air, making my stomach grumble.

I should eat, I thought. But before I could get up, Nun Melinda walked outside, holding a tray with a coffee mug and cookies.

"Good morning, Nun Melinda," I smiled.

"Good morning, dear. I brought you some coffee. Drink up while it's still warm," she said, setting the tray down on the patio table.

"Thank you, Nun Melinda. You didn't have to."

"Nonsense, I don't mind," she replied, her voice soft. "There's something I need to mention. I received a call-some people are coming to talk to you. They'll be here in a few minutes."

"Do you know what they want?" I asked, feeling the soothing liquid warm my throat.

"Something about a teaching position. I didn't get many details."

"Teaching position? I wonder what that's about," I said, nibbling on one of the cookies.

"Come to the lounge once you're finished," she said, giving me a peck on the cheek.

With that, she left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

A teaching job? Why me, of all people? I asked myself, slowly sipping my coffee. Once I finished, I walked to the living room. There, Nun Melinda sat with two visitors-a bald man in a wheelchair and a blonde woman with a pale complexion. As I stepped closer, they all turned to look at me.

Nun Melinda was the first to speak. "Flora, this is Professor Charles Xavier, and this is Raven."

They stood, well one of them did and I shook their hands.

"It's nice to meet you," I said, studying the strangers in front of me.

"It's nice to meet you too," they both said in sync.

"Would you like tea or coffee?" Nun Melinda offered.

"None, thank you," Charles replied. "We're fine."

"I'll leave you three to talk then," she said, disappearing from the room.

I sat awkwardly, glancing between the two strangers. "So... why are you here?" I asked.

Charles was the first to speak. "We're looking for someone to teach at my school, Flora. Someone like you."

"Like me?" I asked, confused. "Why me? I don't have any experience or even a degree."

Raven spoke up. "It's hard to find teachers willing to work at a school for mutants, especially ones who are mutants themselves."

I froze. "How do you know-?"

Before I could finish, Charles touched two fingers to his temple, and suddenly, they both disappeared.

I jumped up. "Professor? Raven?"

They reappeared just as quickly, making me flinch.

"I'm just like you," Charles said calmly.

I looked at Raven, intrigued. "Are you a mutant too?"

She didn't answer verbally. Instead, her skin shifted into blue scales, revealing her true form.

Charles nodded. "Now, show us what you can do."

I hesitated but took a breath, focusing on the shift in my body. Within seconds, I turned invisible. I waited a couple seconds for their reaction and I quickly returned visible again, feeling a little self-conscious under their watchful eyes.

"Extraordinary," Charles said, clearly impressed. "Is that all you can do?"

I shook my head. "I can also create force fields, I have telekinesis-which I'm still working on-and then empathy."

"Empathy?" Raven asked.

"Yes. I can control and sense emotions with a touch. It came in handy when I was caught doing something I wasn't supposed to," I said with a small laugh.

They both looked at me with interest. After a moment, Charles spoke again.

"When did you discover your powers?"

"When I was little, I would accidentally turn invisible when I was distressed or scared. The nuns here knew I was different from the other kids, but they didn't mind. They just kept it a secret because people like me-mutants-aren't exactly deemed normal. Later, in my teenage years, I met a boy named Lucas who worked at a nearby farm. He was a mutant too, so we practiced our powers in secret. Eventually, I discovered I could control my invisibility and that I could move things with my mind."

Raven and Charles exchanged a glance before Charles spoke again. "We need someone like you at our school. There are children who need your guidance."

I hesitated, feeling the weight of his words.

"But I've lived here my whole life. This is all I've ever known," I said, fidgeting with my lip.

"There are kids who need you and have no one. Orphans, just like you," Raven said as Charles nodded in agreement.

"You already have the most important qualities," Charles continued. "Compassion, understanding, and a unique perspective. The rest, we can help with."

Raven added, "You'll have support. And more importantly, you'll grow alongside the students."

Their words lingered in my mind. Maybe it was time for a change. I had lived here my whole life, and perhaps this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I looked at them, making up my mind.

Fuck it

I took a deep breath. "Okay," I said. "I'll give it a try."

I quickly went upstairs, grabbed a bag, and began packing my clothes and important belongings. After I was done, I looked around my room one last time feeling a little homesick already.

let's do this. I quickly closed the door and walked down stairs.

Nun Melinda was once again standing with Charles and Raven but at the front door. As I approached, she turned around and wrapped me in a warm hug.

I hugged her back tightly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me. "Take care of yourself, my dear," she whispered. "You're going to do great things."

"Thank you, Nun Melinda," I replied, my voice slightly trembling. "I'll miss you. I'll miss all of you."

She pulled back and gave me a reassuring smile. " We'll all miss you too, but this is your time to be independent and grow."

With one last look around the place that had been my home for so long, I nodded to Charles and Raven, ready to step into the unknown.

The ride to the school wasn't too long, but my mind was spinning the entire time. As Raven drove, all I could think about was the life I had left behind and the one waiting for me. This was my chance-a new chapter outside the orphanage. A chance to build the life I'd always dreamed of.

As we turned onto the driveway leading to the school, I was struck by the beauty of the place. Tall trees bordered the road, their leaves lush and green, casting gentle shadows over the landscape. The air smelled fresh, and the surroundings felt alive with possibility.

When we approached the school, I noticed children scattered across the grounds. Some sat under trees, engrossed in books, while others played basketball or ran around, their laughter filling the air. The school was larger than I had imagined-much bigger. The sheer size of the building made me feel small for a moment.

Stepping out of the car, I finally got a full view of the place. The main building was impressive, with grand, arched windows and a stately presence. Vines climbed up its stone walls, curling around the structure in a way that made it look both ancient and alive, like the building was growing from the earth itself. It was beautiful-wild and majestic, just like nature.

Raven helped Charles out of the car and into his wheelchair while I stood there, still in awe of the campus. The possibilities of this new life swirled in my mind as I tried to imagine myself here, surrounded by people like me. I grabbed my bag and joined them, walking beside Charles and Raven toward the entrance.

"What do you think?" Charles asked, his voice calm yet curious.

I glanced around at the sprawling grounds, the towering trees, the vibrant life everywhere.

"It's... amazing," I replied, my voice tinged with wonder. "I didn't think the place would look this nice and feel so full of love."

Charles chuckled as we approached the grand entrance. "It's more than just a school, Flora. It's a home for many who've felt out of place in the world. You'll find that here, I promise."

I nodded, taking in his words. The weight of my decision began to settle in, and I wondered if I truly belonged in a place like this. But something about the atmosphere, the serenity mixed with the underlying sense of purpose, gave me hope.

As we entered through the large wooden doors, the inside was just as grand as the outside. The hallways stretched ahead, lined with paintings and intricate woodwork. Students bustled past, some nodding in acknowledgment as we walked by. The air hummed with energy, yet it felt strangely peaceful.

Raven glanced at me. "We'll show you to your room, and later, you'll meet some of the staff. They're all really nice."

"I hope so," I said, glancing at the students. "I'm a bit overwhelmed."

Charles chuckled softly. "Give it time. You'll come to see this as your new home."

As we turned a corner, I caught sight of a window overlooking a large garden, brimming with colorful flowers and more trees. In the distance, I could see animals-a few birds, some deer grazing near the woods. A sense of comfort washed over me. Maybe this place could be a home after all.

"I'll let Raven take over. I have some important matters to attend to. I'll see you after lunch," Charles said as he slowly turned around, heading down a hallway.

"Thank you!" I called after him.

Raven led me up a winding staircase to the second floor. We reached a door at the end of the hall, and Raven pushed it open. Inside was a cozy, modest room with a large window overlooking the grounds.

"This will be your space," Raven said with a smile. "Unpack, settle in, and I'll come back for you in a little while."

I set my bag down, glancing around the room. It was simple, but the view outside the window, with the sprawling green and the animals in the distance, made it feel perfect. This was my start-my new beginning.

"Thank you," I said, turning back to her.

"You'll do great things here, Flora," Raven said, walking towards the door. "I'll see you soon."

With that, she left, and I was alone with my thoughts and new surroundings. I took a deep breath, stepping toward the window. The campus stretched out before me, full of life, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of belonging.

I quickly unpacked, placing my belongings neatly in the spacious closet. The room was at least twice the size of the one at the orphanage. The bed, which looked enormous compared to what I'd been used to, had a plush purple comforter that looked incredibly inviting. I pressed my hand against it, feeling the softness. There was an empty desk in one corner, and a small TV sat on a stand near the window-a little reminder of normalcy in such an extraordinary place.

I opened the window, letting the fresh air in. The breeze was gentle but steady, causing the curtains to flutter softly from side to side. I leaned against the window frame, looking out at the vibrant green of the campus below, letting my thoughts drift. There was so much to process-so much unknown ahead of me-but for the first time in a long while, I felt something close to hope.

After a few minutes of quiet reflection, a knock on the door interrupted the calm. My heart quickened as I turned toward it. I wasn't expecting anyone so soon, and a wave of nervousness crept in.

I stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in my clothes, and walked over to answer it.

It was Raven, standing in the doorway with a friendly smile. "Are you ready for your tour?"

I gave her a small smile, nodding as the nervousness settled again in my stomach. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Great," she said, stepping aside to let me join her. "There's a lot to see, but I'll give you the highlights today so you don't feel too overwhelmed."

As we started down the hallway, Raven gestured toward the rooms around us. "So, in this hall, all the staff have their quarters. Erik's room is next to yours, and Storm's is on the other side. You'll meet them both later at dinner."

I nodded, mentally filing away the names. Erik and Storm. I wondered what they were like. I hoped they were nice.

"They're great," Raven continued, as if reading my thoughts. "Erik can be intense sometimes, but as long as you don't get on his bad side, you'll be fine. And Storm... well, you'll see. She's got a presence that speaks for itself."

I couldn't help but smile at that. "I'm looking forward to meeting them."

"Then there's Jean, who rooms with Scott. They're both really nice," Raven added as we walked further down the hallway. "They're engaged, so you'll probably see them together most of the time."

"Engaged? That's nice," I replied, picturing the couple in my head. I was curious about what they were like, but something told me no one here was ordinary.

"And then there's my room," she continued, gesturing toward a door a few paces away. "If you ever need anything, feel free to knock."

I gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

"Charles sleeps on the other side of the school," Raven said with a slight chuckle. "His quarters are more private, but you'll see him plenty. He likes to keep a close eye on things around here."

I nodded, taking it all in. The people here seemed close, like a family of sorts, and though I felt a little out of place, I couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging growing.

"And then Hank's room is at the end of the hallway," Raven added with a soft smile. "He's my boyfriend, by the way."

I raised my eyebrows, intrigued. "Boyfriend, huh? How long have you two been together, if you don't mind me asking?"

Raven chuckled. "We've been dating for a couple of months now. It took me a while to get through to him, but now we're happy. You'll see him around, always working on something. But don't let his shyness fool you-he can get pretty loud."

I smiled at the warmth in her voice when she talked about him. "I'm looking forward to meeting him."

Raven led us further down the hallway, the tour giving me a sense of how close-knit this group really was. It made me feel both excited and a little anxious about fitting in.

As we walked through the school, Raven pointed out the important places since the campus was so vast-where the kids' rooms were, the classrooms (which she mentioned Charles would show me in more detail after lunch), and finally, the training area.

When we reached the basement, she opened the heavy doors, revealing an enormous room filled with high-tech equipment. In the center, two people were engaged in a heated battle with a giant robot, dodging its strikes with precision and power.

"Ah, Scott and Storm are here," Raven said casually as she began walking toward them.

I followed, wide-eyed, watching the intense scene unfold. Scott, wearing red-tinted glasses, was firing controlled beams of energy at the robot, while Storm moved gracefully, summoning wind and lightning to disorient her opponent. It was both mesmerizing and a little intimidating.

"They're training," Raven explained with a grin. "This is one of the ways we keep our skills sharp-and it looks pretty cool, right?"

I nodded, unable to take my eyes off the battle. "Yeah... this is incredible."

"All the teachers train here," she added casually.

I blinked. "Wait... all teachers? As in, I will too?"

Raven paused, then stepped back with a sheepish smile. "Oh, I guess the cat's out of the bag. Charles was supposed to tell you."

"Tell me what?" I asked, a sense of unease creeping in.

"Well, all staff members are required to train at least twice a week. And... well, all of the X-Men are teachers here. That just leaves you."

I stared at her, processing the words. "Wait, you guys want me to be an X-Men? I thought I was here for a teaching job."

Raven chuckled softly. "You are. But part of teaching here is also protecting the students. We're more than just a school, Flora. Charles believes you have potential-not just to teach, but to help keep everyone safe."

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. "I've never fought anything in my life, let alone... robots or whatever that thing is."

Raven placed a hand on my shoulder, her expression reassuring. "We'll train you. You're not expected to jump into battle tomorrow. But trust me, you'll catch on. You have potential."

Before I could respond, Scott and Storm walked over, leaving the defeated robot lying motionless on the ground.

Scott, tall and serious-looking, gave me a nod. "You must be the new recruit. Welcome."

Storm smiled warmly, her presence commanding yet comforting. "It's nice to meet you, Flora. I hope you're liking the place so far."

I glanced between them, still trying to process everything. "Thanks... I just didn't realize this job came with combat training."

Scott smirked. "It's part of the package deal. But don't worry, we all started somewhere. You'll have plenty of time to get used to it."

Storm nodded in agreement. "And you won't be alone. We've got each other's backs here."

Raven chimed in. "You'll be fine, Flora. We'll make sure of it."

Their words were comforting, but I couldn't shake the nervousness bubbling inside. I'd come here to teach, but now I was stepping into a whole new world-one that involved more than just lessons in a classroom.

Lunch finally rolled around, and as I finished eating, Raven reminded me to see Charles in his office afterward. The only problem was, I couldn't exactly remember where it was. After the tour, Raven had given me a brochure to help me navigate if I got lost. This school was massive, and I wondered how anyone managed to navigate it without getting turned around.

As I wandered the hallways, the sounds of kids laughing and running around filled the space, reminding me of the orphanage. A pang of homesickness hit me, but I quickly shook it off. I was glad to be here, starting this new chapter of my life.

The noise of the children began to fade as I moved further into the quieter parts of the building. I stopped at the end of a hallway, looking down at the small brochure in my hands. I was turning a corner when I bumped into someone, accidentally spilling his coffee all over his gray shirt.

"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, eyes widening as I saw the stain spreading across his chest.

The man, tall and broad-shouldered, glared down at me, his face hard as stone. His dark red hair was slicked back, and his sharp gaze sent a shiver down my spine. He glanced at his coffee-stained shirt and then back at me, clearly unimpressed.

"Watch where you're going," he muttered, brushing at the stain, though it only spread further.

"I didn't mean to... I'm just trying to find the Professor's office," I stammered, fidgeting with the hem of my skirt.

"Figures," he said, his voice low and clipped. "You're the new girl."

"I am," I replied, feeling my face flush under his intense stare.

His brow furrowed, as though the very idea of me being here annoyed him. "You're the one they're bringing in to teach? You don't exactly look prepared for it."

I bristled at his tone, my nerves tingling with irritation. "I wasn't aware there was a dress code for spilling coffee," I snapped, sarcasm slipping out before I could stop myself.

His eyes narrowed. "You won't last long here if you think it's all sarcasm and jokes."

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me. "I don't know who you are, but I didn't come here to get lectured."

He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression unchanging. "I'm Erik Lehnsherr. And you'd do well to stay out of my way."

I stared at him, recognition finally dawning. Erik. The one Raven had warned me about-the intense one. Great. Of all the people to run into, it had to be him.

"Noted," I replied coolly, stepping around him, but not before muttering under my breath, "You might want to work on your people skills, though."

I didn't wait for his reaction as I quickly walked away, my heart pounding in my chest. My face was still warm with embarrassment and frustration. Of all the first impressions I could've made, spilling coffee on the grumpiest guy in the building wasn't exactly what I had in mind.

I hurried down the hall, trying to push the encounter with Erik out of my mind. My heart was still racing, and I couldn't help but feel both embarrassed and irritated. Who did he think he was? But I had bigger concerns-like figuring out where in the world the Professor's office was.

After wandering what felt like endlessly through the halls, I was about ready to give up and ask someone for directions when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. A small, polished brass plaque on the wall next to a large wooden door:

Professor Charles Xavier, Headmaster

I let out a sigh of relief. "Finally," I muttered, feeling a little silly for missing it before.

I raised my hand to knock, but before I could, Charles's calm voice echoed in my mind, as clear as if he were standing right next to me.

Come in, Flora.

I blinked, reminded of his telepathic abilities, and stepped into the office. The room was spacious yet cozy, filled with bookshelves that lined the walls and a large desk near the window. Sunlight poured in, casting a golden glow over everything.

Charles sat behind his desk, a kind smile on his face. "I trust you're settling in well?" he asked.

I hesitated for a moment, thinking about Erik and our less-than-ideal first meeting. "Well, I'm still getting used to the place... It's much bigger than I expected."

Charles chuckled softly. "It can be overwhelming at first. But in time, it will feel like home."

I nodded, though my mind was still racing with thoughts about what had just happened. Charles seemed to sense my unease.

"Ah," he said knowingly, leaning forward slightly. "You've met Erik."

I felt my cheeks flush again. "Yes, but... it didn't go very well."

Charles smiled gently. "Don't take it personally. Erik's not one to easily warm up to new people, especially those he doesn't know yet. But give it time-he can be difficult, but once you earn his trust, you'll see there's more to him than his sharp exterior."

I sighed, feeling slightly better. "I hope you're right."

"I am," he said confidently, then motioned to the chair across from his desk. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss about your role here."

I sat down, still feeling a bit out of my element but more at ease as I faced Charles across his large desk. His calm demeanor made it easier to breathe through the nerves that lingered in the back of my mind.

"As you know," Charles began, "our school is unique. We're not just a place for education; we're a sanctuary for those who feel they don't belong in the outside world. The students here, like you, have abilities that set them apart. It's our job to help them understand those abilities and how to use them wisely."

I nodded, listening closely. Despite the calm surroundings, the weight of the responsibility was starting to settle on my shoulders.

"I believe you can offer something very special here, Flora," he continued. "You have extraordinary gifts that can be used out in the field."

I looked at him, remembering what Raven told me before. "You mean, like becoming an X-Man?"

"Indeed. You have potential, and I know you can become one of the best," he said as he rolled toward me.

"I still feel like I'm not qualified for this," I admitted, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of my sweater. "I've never taught anyone before, or even fought anyone. I don't know how I'd handle real students, especially ones with powers."

Charles's kind smile didn't waver. "You'll find that teaching here is as much about connecting with the students as it is about formal lessons. You'll learn as you go. And you'll have the support of the other teachers, including myself. As for becoming an X-Men, that's the easiest part. We will train you."

I glanced out the window for a moment, watching a group of students playing outside, their laughter drifting through the open air. Despite my nerves, something about this place already felt like it was calling to me, as if I was meant to be here. But it was hard to imagine myself fitting in, especially with teachers like Erik, who clearly thought otherwise.

Charles must have picked up on my thoughts, because his voice softened, drawing my attention back to him. "Flora, you belong here. And I believe that in time, you'll come to see it too."

I met his gaze and nodded. "I'll try my best, Professor."

"That's all I ask," he replied, his tone warm and reassuring. "Now, why don't you take the rest of the afternoon to explore the grounds? Get to know the place and the students."

I stood, feeling both nervous and determined. "Thank you, Professor."

As I turned to leave, his voice echoed in my mind again. And Flora, he said gently, don't let Erik's attitude deter you. There's more to him than meets the eye.

I smiled faintly, pausing at the door. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

With that, I stepped out of the office and into the hallway, the heavy wooden door closing softly behind me. The air in the corridor was still, the sounds of students muffled in the distance. I stood there for a moment, letting it all sink in-the enormity of this place, the role I was stepping into, and the people I would meet.

And then there was Erik.

I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. Maybe Charles was right. Maybe there was more to Erik than the cold, irritated exterior I'd seen. But I wasn't about to let his attitude intimidate me. I had a job to do here, and if Erik was part of it, I'd just have to figure out how to deal with him.

Chapter: TWO

#x men #fanfic #erik lehnsherr #erik lensherr x reader #micheal fassbender #charles xavier #raven #magneto x reader #magento #scott summers #storm #hank mccoy

54 notes · View notes

thelov3lybookworm · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I really like your writing style, and

I would like to request an Azriel x reader fic, but you can ignore this if you don't feel comfortable with it. So, lately I've been having a few problems with an ED (anorexia nervosa), and I think that reading how Azriel would react and deal with reader struggling with it, would help me and comfort me in some way.

I repeat, if you don't feel comfortable with writing this, it's completely okay, you don't have to do it. Whatever your choice will be, thank you in advance! ❤

With her.

Summary: Azriel finds out his mate's relationship with food, and tries to convince her to see Madja.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: hello anon! Thank you for the ask, I love the idea. Also, I'm soo sorry you have to go through that and I hope you get better 🫶☺️ also any and all information I have was provided by Google, so please feel free to correct me if I write something wrong.

Hope you like it and hope it helps you in any way ❣️

•○🌑○•

Her chest heaved, her throat scratched as she hovered over the bowl, having just hurled her guts up. She slumped back against the wall, clutching her head.

Y/n stayed there for a couple of minutes before standing and turning to the mirror. She stared, then washed her face.

Before she left, though, she checked once to make sure the shield she had put up around the bathing room was up, because her newly found mate was in the house. She didn't want him to hear her.

And then all the blood drained from her face as she realised that she, while puking, had unintentionally left the shield down.

Her heart started beating wildly.

She was sure Azriel had heard her. There was no way he hadn't.

Even though the two of them had worked for Rhysand for centuries, they had barely had any interactions. And so, after they found out a month ago that they were mates, they were trying to get to know each other more. They'd been having dinner, and then she had excused herself, saying she needed to use the restroom.

She hesitantly stepped into her room, relieved but confused to find it empty. She had thought Azriel would be waiting in here to interrogate her. Did he not hear? Maybe she let the shield down after she was finished?

She decided to go down to the living room where Azriel was sitting before she left him there.

She found him staring into the fire, his jaw clenched.

"Hey, I'm back."

He turned to her and gave her a small smile. They then sat talking for some time, and with every moment that passed, the tension slowly bled from her shoulders. Maybe he hadn't heard anything, and she was worrying for no reason.

They talked carelessly, though Az continuously studied her.

"Are you in pain?" He asked, gesturing to her stomach.

She hadn't even realised she had wrapped her arms around herself until he pointed it out. But she was, in fact, in pain. She didn't think there was any harm in telling him about her abdominal pain, so she nodded.

"Nothing much though. It will subside."

"Are you nearing your cycle?"

She nearly laughed. "No. I haven't had my cycle in quite some time now."

"Why?" He asked, his stare intense.

She faltered. "Why what?"

"Why haven't you had your cycle?"

"Because..." That was when she realised that she was in deep shit. The male she was now taking to wasn't her mate. No, it was the Spymaster of the Night Court, and she was going to be interrogated.

"I always wondered why you made such elaborate meals for others but never ate them yourself. How you, somehow, never seem to be hungry. The unusual visits to the bathing room after eating."

"Azriel–"

"Are you having problems love?" He stood, coming towards her and crouching in front of her. His hands landed on her knees as he searched her face.

"You know that you can tell me anything, right?"

She nodded, blinking back tears.

"Then please tell me what you're going through. I want to help."

"I... I don't know how to tell you... its just–" She stopped speaking, wondering how to approach the topic. He stayed silent, rubbing circles on her thigh, letting her take her time. He wasn't going to let it go, so she had to tell him.

And then, all of it came out. She told him of how her mother had always wanted her to be perfect, and not being skinny was unacceptable. And so, in order to please her mother, she started eating less and less, eventually resorting to throwing up anything she ate.

"But your mother passed years ago. Why did you not stop?" He questioned gently, now sitting next to her.

She shook her head. "She had planted the image of perfection in my mind. If someone was not skinny, it took away from their beauty. I became obsessed with perfection. Or atleast what I thought was perfection.

"Whenever I looked at Mor, I would want to be perfect. And then, Feyre and her sisters came along. It worsened my obsession with being skinny."

"What are you saying?"

"They are just so damn beautiful. They have great figure, and even when they were mortal, they could have rivaled many fae females. And I want to be like them. Perfect. Someone who you could love. Someone worthy."

"No. Love, please don't think like that. I'm sorry you had to go through that, but you're beautiful as you are. I couldn't care less about your figure. I would love you no matter what."

Tears ran down his face as he said those words, and she instantly felt bad. She buried her face in his neck, trying to stop the tears.

"I'm sorry."

"What for? There is nothing you should be sorry about."

They stayed that way for quite some time, with him rubbing her back and constantly murmuring about how perfect she was and how she didn't need to do this. She sobbed into his chest, the guilt eating at her.

"Stop. Stop, don't feel guilty about it." She realised he could feel her emotions through the bond.

"Love? I suggest we go to Madja. She would know how to help."

"I don't need help." She mumbled, pulling away from him and clutching her knees to her chest.

"Y/n, darling, please..." When she again shook her head, he paused. Then, as if coming up with an idea, he spoke again. "How about we make a deal?"

"What deal?" She asked quietly.

"We go to Madja, and you follow her instructions and try to get better. In return, at the end of every week, I'll do anything you say."

She thought about it. She knew what she was doing was unhealthy, and she did want to get better. If not for herself, then for Azriel. Which was messed up, considering she should be doing this for herself. But this could be a start.

"Anything?" She whispered.

He grinned. "Anything."

"So if I tell you to wear a chicken costume and go out onto the streets and squawk around for the whole day, you'll do it?"

A blush rose to his cheeks, knowing how embarrassed he would be, but he leaned closer. "If that is what it takes."

She blushed, leaning back, but he followed her until their noses bumped. He pecked her lips once, twice, before resting his forehead on hers. "I'll do anything to make you happy."

She smiled.

If he was ready to do anything for her, even wear a chicken costume for her, to help her, then she'll be damned if she became a barrier stopping him from his goal.

"And, if you don't eat in a healthy way, you'll have no energy. And you need that for when we eventually accept the bond."

She stared at him for a moment, wondering what the hell he meant. But when she realised, she stood, sputtering, her face a burning mess. He grinned cockily, leaning back as his hands came to rest behind his head, his legs spread.

"I mean, it'll go on for a week at the least, maybe even a month. More than that, if all goes to plan. So, what do you say?"

She nodded, fighting the smile threatening to overtake her face. "Okay, I'll go." She sat back down, snuggling into his side.

He kissed her head, wrapping his arms and wings around her. "Love? I just want you to know that you don't need to hurry. Take it at your pace. Don't worry about anything else. I'll be there for you in this journey, every step of the way. And when you finally come out on the other side, I'll be waiting for you. I'll always wait for you."

She smiled. She knew it was true.

He would be there for her, no matter what.

And her situation didn't seem so bad, now that he was with her.

They would get through this. Together.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @eos-princess @bubybubsters

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and-so-he-rambled · 6 months ago

Text

Library

(An excerpt from the prequel to Gotham Rogue Vlad Masters. Vlad is 29, Jazz is 6, Danny is 4)

Masterlist

Vlad was still a weak man, no matter how much he tried not to be.

He sat in the castle library, knees pulled to his chest and eyes trained on the cassette player sitting on the oak coffee table. The library was one of his favorite parts of the castle and one of the reasons he’d fallen in love with the place. Most of the books had been about cheese, its history and the many ways to make it, but he was slowly replacing them with his own collection. Currently it was mostly the well loved science textbooks he’d obsessed over in his teens, but he had several boxes of the classical literature he’d started reading in his free time. He’d despised fiction for most of his life, but he could appreciate it now.

Vlad leaned forward and pressed the rewind button.

“Hey Vladdy!” The tinny voice of Jack filtered through the speaker of the cassette player. “Remember how Maddie was pregnant? Not anymore! We have a daughter Vladdy! Can you believe it?”

Vlad stared at the black plastic speaker, a mask of emotionless on his face even as every emotion rushed through him.

“She’s beautiful V-man! Has her mother’s hair! She’s six pounds, did you know how tiny babies are? She’ll need to do a lot of catching up to me!” Jack laughed boisterously, air whooshing through the speaker as the phone was moved.

“Say hi to Vlad!”

There was a crackling sigh, tired but fond, and then she spoke.

“Jack, I’m feeding the baby. Hi Vlad, hope you’re well.” Vlad took a shuddering breath, mouth tasting like bile. She sounded so serene, so alive.

“Can’t wait for you to meet her Vladdy!” Jack yelled as he took the phone back, a little baby crying briefly before Maddie’s cooing quieted them. “We should all get together soon, the four of us! Jazzy is going to love her uncle, I just know it!”

The last day he saw Jack and Maddie in person was the lab accident. He’d obsessed over pictures and recordings, over website updates and phone calls, but he hadn’t seen them once since he died. Ten years, in a few months it would be ten years since the accident, and nine since he died.

“Is that my dad?”

Vlad jumped, the leather in his armchair tearing as his claws slipped out.

He fought the urge to walk away, to continue putting on a strong facade and not caring about Jack and Maddie’s deaths. To not acknowledge it, maybe for the kids sake and maybe for his.

“Yes.”

Jasmine hesitated in the doorway, hands tucked away in the sleeves of her pajamas. She had plenty of nightgowns, but she loved keeping her arms and hands covered as much as possible. After a long moment Vlad motioned her to come in and watched her slink around the edge of the room until she stood at his side.

“I recorded these a long time ago. This was when you were born.” He reached down and pressed the rewind button, the mechanical wirr filling the room at the tape rewinded.

“Hey Vladdy!”

They listened to Jack’s boisterous voice together.

“Why…” Jazz sniffled, trying to hide her tears with her sleeves. “Why didn’t you ever come? Dad always called you, and he’d get sad, and mom would say you’re busy. Why didn’t you wanna see us?”

“Oh Jasmine, it wasn’t anything you and Daniel did.” It wasn’t. It was the idea of them, the idea of the perfect happy family of his enemy and first love while he learned to puppet his own corpse. He couldn’t face that until he was forced to.

Jazz set on the edge of the leather ottoman, eyes drawn to the tape as it ended with a click. She watched him silently as he opened the shoebox and placed the ejected tape inside.

“…can I pick one?” Vlad hesitated. Nobody had ever seen his tapes, let alone touched them. They were precious to him, the only weakness he had allowed himself, but Jack and Maddie were gone now. These memories weren’t ones he could selfishly hide, they belonged to Jazz and Daniel now as well.

He pushed the box towards her, watching her fingers peek from beneath the fabric of her sleeves and run along the cassette labels. She pulled out a tape labeled for Daniel’s birth, handing it to her godfather. She continued to look through the tapes as he placed the cassette inside and started it.

“V-man! I bet I just missed ya! I come with big news, you’re an uncle! Again!” Jack laughed loudly, probably throwing his head back and screwing up his eyes the way he always did, with his cheeks and nose flushed from joy and his eyes bright. Vlad’s chest ached.

“His name is Daniel James Fenton and he’s a chip off the old block! Still small, but he’ll be just like his dad, I know it! Jazzy is so excited to be a big sister!” The audio crackled before a small child was heard.

“Hello!” A two year old Jazz yelled.

“It’s Uncle Vlad!“

“Vlad! Unk Vlad! Hello!”

“He’s not actually on the line dear.” Maddie could be heard in the background. She sounded exhausted, but fond of her husband and daughter.

“Oh. Bye-bye.”

Jack laughed again, so uncaring and free and infuriating.

“I’ll call back later since you’re busy, V-man. Love you!”

“Jack, it’s talk later, not I Love You.” Maddie corrected.

“But I love him?” Jack sounded confused as the line clicked and the tape reached its end.

Jazz was trying hard to keep her composure, but there were tears in her eyes.

“Jasmi-“

“When I was little, I thought you were like Santa.” Her voice was wavering, eyes wide as she tried not to blink and let tears fall. Vlad didn’t correct her that she was still little.

“I thought all kids had an Uncle Vlad that their dad made up to make them feel better. But you were real, you were real and you still didn’t come see us. Not until mom and dad died and you had to!”

Vlad didn’t know what to say as angry tears spilled over against the six year olds best efforts, hands flying up to hastily scrub away the evidence.

“Why do you keep pretending you want us? I don’t wanna go back to the hospital and I don wanna lose Danny but you didn’t want us!”

Vlad hadn’t wanted to suddenly have his former friend’s children in his home, but he couldn’t fathom them being with anyone else. He dug to the bottom of the tape box to find the only college photo he hadn’t torn up or defaced. They all looked so young, all wearing lab coats and hanging off each other. No one was looking at the camera and Jack had pulled both Vlad’s and Maddie’s feet off the ground from how hard he hugged.

“I loved your parents.” He handed her the most precious thing he had, even more than his signed football that he’d viscously outbid a children’s hospital for. Though, maybe it wasn’t anymore.

She took it gently, scarred fingers peeking out and running over her parents faces.

“Then why?” She whispered, lip quivering as she brushed her knuckle down her mom’s curls.

Why indeed.

“I got hurt, and I had to get better.” Her father had caused it, had killed him, and he’d suffered, but she didn’t need to know that. As much as he hated Jack he wouldn’t corrupt her memories of her father. “I was hurt for a long time, and when I finally was better I realized how much I missed, and it was far too late.”

“Dad used to say you were busy, when I was little it was because you were sick, but last time he said you had a company now, and you were a business man. He was really happy.”

Vlad bit his tongue until he tasted blood, setting down the tape he was holding before he crushed it. How did Jack have the right to be happy for him after ruining his life?!

“I see.”

“Uncle Vlad?” Jazz brushed hair from her eyes, looking so much like her mom aside from the light streak. Maddie always had naturally straight hair despite the hours spent making it curly each morning.

“Yes dear?”

“You promise you won’t make us leave when you don’t want us anymore?”

Vlad’s core twinged as white hot pain shot through it. It was still healing after his obsession break, but it had been doing much better lately. Henry played off the pain without showing it, huffing a puff of smoke out his nostrils and leveling her with a serious look.

“Jasmine.” He offered his hands palms up, and she slowly reached out to touch the very tips of her fingers to them.

“I am never going to not want you and your brother. In fact, I will commit crimes against humanity before I let either of you be taken from me.”

Jazz considered that for a moment.

“What if you die?” She whispered, betraying her worries.

“Oh Jasmine.” He grinned, perhaps with too many teeth. “I’m a very hard man to kill.”

They listened to a few more tapes until Jazz was fast asleep curled under his arm, finally relaxed in the presence of her parent’s voices. She was easy to carry back to bed, but he took his time crossing the house to the kid’s room.

#girl dad Vlad #I love Jazz so much you don’t even understand #danny phantom #vlad plasmius #vlad masters #danny fenton #dp x dc #dpxdc #gotham rogue vlad masters #dp #jazz fenton #vlad masters redemption #kid fic #de aging #de aged danny #de aged jazz

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