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marsbutterfly · 3 years ago

Note

Hey ! How are you ? Can I request an imagine for Hanji x f!reader where they both get reincarnated in modern time ? They both died side by side during the rubbling and when they get reincarnated they both have memories of their past life (they were already lovers). Reader thought she was never going to see her girlfriend again but one day she finds her by chance.

Take care and have a nice day !

Note: Thank you so much for requesting this. I had fun writing it and the prompt was *chefs kiss* so I really hope you like it.

In Another Life

Summary: Reincarnation is the doctrine or belief that the soul reappears after death in another and different bodily form.

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version! |◁ II ▷|

Cold sweat drips down your face as you bolt awake, digging your nails into the bedsheets. The same nightmare has been waking you up in the middle of the night since you were a child.

In your dream, you are a soldier who battles to save humanity in the fight against titans. Somehow, you always manage to kill the gigantic beings and return safely to the world inside the walls.

Always by your side is a brown-haired woman with glasses, her left eye is missing in most of the dreams. In all honesty, you have never seen anyone so beautiful before and, somehow, you remember her name.

Hanji Zoe.

One day, you stood by her side as the world you’ve once known was being left behind, turned into dust. She held your face in her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks, the feeling of her lips against yours is vivid and you can even smell the apple she had earlier.

The scream of your comrades echoes through the plane and into your brain but all you can focus on is the image of Hanji’s body catching on fire as the same flames burn down your back.

She hits the ground seconds before you do and somehow you manage to land by her side, hand touching hand as her lifeless body begins to cool down. You don’t have much time to think before a titan’s massive foot squishes your bodies at the exact same time.

That’s usually when you wake up, when your lungs and heart explode inside your chest due to the pressure of the step. When every blood vessel in your body gives in to the pressure and bursts inside you.

You grab your phone, only to realize your alarm was about to go off anyway. So instead of trying to go back to sleep, you simply push the covers aside and begin to drag yourself to the bathroom in hopes of getting your day started.

Not every dream you have is a nightmare. Some of them are about a life you don’t remember living: The combination of joy and fear after joining the Survey Corps, the warmth of Hanji’s naked body against yours, the delicious smell of freshly made apple pie coming from the kitchen in the middle of the night.

At nights where you don’t dream about that life, you miss it. You miss being around your friends, being able to move around the trees as if you were flying, you miss her. Her deep, brown eyes are all you can think about and time slips away from you.

Once your morning routine is completed, you decide to go for a run in the park behind your house. Since the sun has been out for less than an hour, it shouldn’t be too busy and you’ll be able to enjoy some quiet time.

As the armband slides up your skin, a chilling sensation travels down your spine and nearly every particle of hair in your body rises, even though you can’t understand why. So you simply shake your head and push the feeling down.

Carefully, you select your favorite playlist and check to make sure your laces are tied but before you can actually look, your phone rings loudly in your ear nearly giving you a heart attack.

Without a second thought, you decline the call without even checking to see who it is and you make your way outside.

The cold breeze welcomes you and the sweet smell of the food cart in front of your house hits your nose. Usually after a run, you reward yourself with one of their delicious crepes and that is enough motivation for you to finish your jog.

At this time, the park is the most peaceful place in the city. No crying babies in their strollers or loud business men walking around on their phone, there is only you and maybe three more people.

Your favorite song comes on and you feel the energy pumping through your veins with every beat. It’s the perfect weather for a run and you silently enjoy the calm that washes over your body.

Your mind wanders back to your nightmares and you start to remember the better part of it. The times Hanji would take you to a secret picnic after she became commander or the makeout sessions in the janitors closet.

In some ways, you could even feel her warm skin against yours, her kiss-swollen lips attached to you by a string of saliva. It nearly feels as if you had lived throughout all of it, but it couldn’t be possible.

You’re so deep into your thoughts that you don’t notice the stick on the floor and, when you do, it’s too late and you’re already halfway towards the ground so all you can do is protect your face from the concrete.

The impact itself isn’t too painful but the humiliation is what stings the most. If only you hadn’t gotten that call before leaving your house, you would’ve remembered to tie your shoelaces and therefore they wouldn’t have gotten stuck on the stick on the floor.

This isn’t the first time the woman in your dreams has caused you trouble. In a few of your memories, she would make too much noise when you sneak out and the Commander would eventually catch you.

Ever since you were young and these dreams first started, you’ve been going to a therapist after the other in hopes of understanding what all of this means and why is it happening to you but all came to the same result: inconclusive.

No matter how many doctors you see, no one can understand why you have such vivid dreams about a war nobody has ever heard anything about or creatures that have never once been proven to exist.

With your ass on the ground, you notice you used the word ��memories” instead of dreams and for a second you feel as if all air has been sucked out of your lungs by a massive vacuum.

You shake your head, pushing those feelings deep down inside of you and getting on your knee, preparing to tie your laces when a familiar perfume rushes by you.

It’s faint and quick, probably carried by the wind but enough for you to snap your head backwards. A comforting feeling settles in your chest, warm and fuzzy if you could describe it. That’s exactly how the woman from your dreams smelled like.

You notice a brunette in a bright yellow sports bra turning around a bush not too far away, but you can’t see if she’s wearing glasses or if she only has one eye, like Hanji did.

“Y/N don’t be ridiculous!” You say to yourself, standing up and brushing away the dirt from your clothes, “Hanji is not a real person, she’s like an imaginary friend.”

Forgetting all about your fall, you decide to resume your run. The pain in your foot forces you to go a bit slower than you are used to but nothing too serious.

Once you are done running your laps around the park and begin to make your way back home, a few drops of rain begin to fall on your skin, forcing you to rush home.

As you are eagerly awaiting for the crepe you’ve been dreaming about for hours, the owner of the small cart has a sad expression on his face.

“I’m fresh out of batter. My husband just went to grab some more, it should take a little longer than 45 minutes, I am so sorry Y/N.” He says and you sigh, a compassionate smile on your lips and you nod.

“You will save me the first one you make when he’s back right?” You ask and the man eagerly nods.

“Of course. With banana, strawberry and chocolate, right?”

And you laugh, knowing that the only reason why he knows your order so well is because his crepes have been your breakfast each morning since you first moved into this apartment.

Once you are done with the conversation, you rush up the stairs and immediately into the shower. With a washcloth you gently brush the dirt out of your bruised knee, quietly hissing as the burning sensation takes over.

Even though you know you aren’t supposed to do so, you pour hydrogen peroxide on top of the wound and a scream leaves your throat at every step of the way.

“Today really isn’t my day.” You say to yourself as you begin to wash your hair. A few specs of dirt fall to the ground and a prolonged sigh escapes your lips. Everything just seems to be going wrong: rain, no crepe, fell during a run, what’s next? Waiting in line at the coffee shop for over an hour?

As you stand in line, you realize you should have kept your mouth shut. Even though you ordered online, the amount of people surrounding the pick up area was beyond ridiculous and you were definitely getting late for work.

Once your turn finally comes, you thank silently in hopes that you will be able to actually make it in time. So with your chest out and happiness on your face, you loudly say over the many other voices, “Order for Y/N!”

The guy behind the counter looks confused as he checks every cup individually and you watch over him as he does so. He shoots you a sadden and a little annoyed look and you realize that the “Order” button never got pushed.

Your eyes fill with tears of frustration but you brush them away and take your phone out, repeating your online order to the barista on the register and they write it down perfectly.

Your eyes are glued to your phone’s screen while you wait for a message from your boss but the same comforting sensation you felt this morning is back again. Maybe it’s the smell of coffee that reminded you of the trips to Marley or the crowds of different people around, much like eldians and marleyans.

“I have to get this shit out of my brain.” You say, shaking your head and focusing on typing out a message to your friend, complaining and hoping that you won’t get fired today. You worked too hard to get this job and if they let you go over some 20 minute wait, you’ll raise hell on Earth.

“Order for Y/N?” A familiar voice says but you can’t identify from where.

So you walk to the counter, finally putting your phone away and counting the coffees. Your eyes land on the barista’s hand, who carries your regular order. You reach for it and in a split of a second, your hands touch.

The world around you seems to stop and so does your breathing. When you look at her, you realize she is the part of you that has been missing all along. She’s a real person and not a dream. You look at her nametag, just making sure you aren’t going insane and there it is. “Hanji Zoe”

In that minimal touch, you are bombarded by the emotions of a lifetime ago. The first day you met, the first titan experiment you had done together, the first kiss, the first time you’ve had to kill a titan because she would always get too damn close to being eaten alive.

But you are also reminded of the last meal you both ate, the last nose rub, the last time her lips touched yours, the last hand holding, the last breath you both took before you woke up where you are now.

And just like that, feelings you didn’t know were possible for you to have emerged from deep within your chest as if a box that has been sitting deep inside the closet has now just been opened. It even seems like the world has just gotten a bit more colorful.

Tears shine in your eyes as the coffee you just waited so long for hits the ground. With a smile on your face, you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her over the counter. It doesn’t take her more than a second to seal your lips together.

Her breath tastes like the hot chocolate she had earlier that day but it still manages to awaken butterflies that laid dormant in your stomach throughout your entire life. It’s not until your phone rings in your pocket that you are brought back to reality.

“I’m so late for work!” You smile at her and rush out of the store, the container with the other cups in your left hand.

“Wait!!” A voice screams from just outside the coffee shop and you immediately turn around to see Hanji, her hat in her hand as she comes closer to you. “I knew something was missing my entire life and….”

“And now I realize it was you.” You two say in perfect unison and she nods.

“Why don’t we start over? This time, without any titans around.” She asks and you smile.

“Hey, I’m Y/N.” You say, extending your hand.

“I’m Hanji Zoe and I would love to take you on a date sometime.” Hanji meets you in the middle, shaking your hand.

“I really have to go.” You say and a frown appears on her face, you have to fight the will to quit your job and start a nice, little life in the woods with her. Something you’ve always talked about but sadly never got to have.

“I’ll wait for you right here then.” She says, letting go of your hand slowly and you immediately touch the back of her head and bring her in for a long kiss while still managing to keep the cups in your hand still.

This time it was not a goodbye kiss. It was simply the second first kiss you’ve ever had with Hanji and hopefully, it will not be the last.

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talesofsonicasura · 3 years ago

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Random Scenarios

May include pairings from this, self inserts or random, parental/sibling relationships between characters(not the sexual kind, bloody sickos), fluff, angst or shenanigans. Anyone can write these in any type of form or with any character.

Tony altering doorways, furniture, and etc to suit Corazon's ridiculous height. (The dude is 9' 7 1/2 in height.)

Eddie, and Venom being introduced to their s/o's Rapidash, Venom's amazed about touching fire that doesn't hurt.

Katakuri comforting a kid!Giorno after a horrible nightmare related to his parents.

Daxter ends up getting third wheel when Jak and Jolyne start talking about their awful prison experiences.

Kid!Josuke follows Macaque around asking to be taught how to fight.

Balan is concerned about Ichigo's questionable relationship between his friends, family and Soul Society's nature.

Luffy and MK go on a pranking spree much to everyone's distaste/misfortune

Kid! Ben realizes how much Haven City and some of Jak's associates suck. Plans to overthrow everyone else's plans for Jak and Daxter's sake.

Venom and Eddie end up crashing (literally) the Phantom Thieves road trip. Somehow ends up adopting a gaggle of super powered teens and hits on the cop following said group. Local cop questions his preferences in partners.

Sanji and Pigsy team up for a cooking contest. Zoro becomes a reluctant judge for said contest.

Terrorist group realizes their folly for kidnapping Tony Stark, Macaque wants his smartass 'Merchant of Death' back.

Sojiro somehow ends up adopting a gaggle of kids/teenagers with superpowers or aren't human. Ren ends up with Spyro, Sora, Yuuji, Giorno, Jak, Daxter, and Danny as siblings.

Balan teaches Ulquiorra about kindness. Goes better than expected.

Yusei wonders how he end up having a 10 ft eldritch entity of negativity attached to him. Lance is a possessive tsundere that refuses to leave local duelist alone.

Kid!Sanji befriends a Elecmon as a kid. Said Elecmon returns years later as a BanchoLeomon which proceeds to curbstomp Judge and the rest of Sanji's shitty family members.

Bayonetta encounters Kid! Rin. Son of Satan gets badass witch mother and tons of unconditional love.

Post-JTTW! Sun Wukong indulges in an urge to kidnap a lost stranger from nearby modern city. Said stranger being a Digimon Tamer who thinks kidnapper is a Digimon and not a godly entity.

Skylander Wallop adopts a Kid!MK. Everyone wonders why local delivery boy carries a crystal hammer on his back at all times.

Teen!Mei finds herself a sibling in the form of a confused Kid! Yuya.

Ichigo accidentally becomes a Portal Master instead of a Soul Reaper. His room ends up being filled with talking figurines that can come to life.

Phantom Thieves and their Personas explore Wonderworld. Balan happily watches as Costume, Tim, Persona and Human have fun positive interactions with each other.

Crazy Diamond restores Macaque's blind eye and vision. Shadow monkey cries while hugging his human son and Stand responsible.

Enjoy.

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notapaladin · 3 years ago

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oh you take all of the pain away

Acatl has nightmares. Teomitl helps. That’s it.

Also on AO3

The shadows on the wall were taunting him. Acatl closed his eyes again, but it didn’t help.

This is ridiculous.

“Mmm,” Teomitl murmured into his ear. “I can hear you thinking.”

That was also ridiculous, but oddly endearing. He huffed out a breath and shifted back to curl more fully against Teomitl’s lean, well-muscled chest, enjoying the warmth of his skin for a moment before it occurred to him that if he could still feel said warmth, something was definitely wrong. Namely, that he was still awake, and it was far past sundown. “Mrrrgghhh...”

Teomitl’s arms tightened around him, and a soft nose pressed into the curve of his shoulder. He was being cuddled like a child’s favorite toy, and if he hadn’t been so irked by his continued state of wakefulness he would have smiled. His lover could really be terribly sweet sometimes, even when his speaking breath tickled. “Go t’ sleep.”

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth to grumble, “I am trying.” There wasn’t any heat in it. He was far, far too tired for that. After the night they’d had, where Teomitl had slipped into his courtyard at sunset and proceeded to very thoroughly make up for the time they’d spent apart in pursuit of the loose threads to a particularly nasty haunting case, every muscle in his body felt like half-melted rubber. He ought to be sleeping like a corpse. He was almost too tired to think.

And his body refused to quiet down. He rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into his arms with a grunt; it was an action that took him out of Teomitl’s arms, generally something he regretted, but cutting out distractions—and Teomitl was certainly a distraction, half-asleep and so wonderfully warm—sometimes helped him sleep. Not always, but sometimes.

Besides, it wasn’t like his lover was going anywhere. A hand smoothed down his spine, gently shifting his hair off his back, and he let out a long sigh. Maybe if he just lay here, he could become one with the mat.

There was another soft mumble behind him. “Night.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. Good night, love.

In the cool, still darkness, Teomitl’s presence a bulwark at his back, with no sound save for their steady breathing, he slowly felt himself fall.

And fall.

Down and down and down...

Only to land on his knees with a shock like a distant blow. The ground was cold and hard under him, and strangely lumpy; as he got to his feet, he saw why.

It was not dirt, nor carved tiles, but hard-packed bones made of gold and jade. He touched a fallen clavicle. It was slippery. Feeling disconnected from his own skin, he picked it up and turned it over in his fingers as he walked. Teomitl fidgeted with things like that, too—not bones, but rocks and sticks and whatever he happened to be holding. He said it helped him focus.

It didn’t help Acatl focus. He walked through the Sacred Precinct, but it was a Sacred Precinct unlike any he had ever seen before. Beautiful, shining, with gold plating every temple wall and turquoise set into the very steps of the pyramids—but empty. There was no sound, not even his own footsteps. A river of blood flowed down the steps of the Great Temple to collect in a pool at its base, but even that made no sound. There were no priests chanting hymns, no commoners offering penance. He was alone.

Alone...

No. Not alone. Teomitl was here somewhere, he knew it. He couldn’t hear that familiar, impatient tread, but he knew it was just ahead of him, that if he ran faster or called out his lover’s name he would be there and—

And—

He opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. What good would calling out do?

He turned the corner and entered the palace gates, and the first sounds he heard fell like hammers on his ears, for all that they were the thin, chattering-infant voices of ahuitzotls.

“All hail...”

“...our great Revered Speaker...”

“Drowning, drowned, all are drowned...”

The courtyards were not empty. He thought he would have preferred it if they were. No, they were filled with ahuitzotls on their hind legs, dressed in the feathers and gems of nobility, and all chattering amongst themselves. As he walked past them, they stopped to watch him go. His skin crawled. He knew better than to run.

“...They cast the reeds...”

He kept walking, and the palace changed around him. Now the frescoes were set with gems, now hammered gold had been set into them to accentuate the eyes of the gods that were, he felt, definitely not watching. Under his bare feet—when had he removed his sandals?—the floor grew warm and slick in a way he recognized far too well. Fresh blood. Another river. No. Another lake, mirroring the one on which Tenochtitlan lay.

The doorway in front of him stood wide, and he knew what he would see when he walked in. He didn’t want to. Duality preserve him, the last thing he wanted was to walk through that door.

His legs carried him forward anyway, and when his gaze adjusted to the brightness he choked back a noise that wanted to be a sob.

Teomitl had gotten there ahead of him, and was sprawled negligently on the throne with a bloody macuahuitl in his hand. The blood was deeper here, lapping at his calves and Teomitl’s sandaled feet, and his lover looked...bored. No, not bored. Vacant. There was gold on his arms and fingers, turquoise at his lip and ankles, and his face was as expressionless as a doll’s. Fear stopped Acatl’s throat.

Before he knew it, he was wading towards him. The blood parted like humid air. “Teomitl!”

Teomitl lifted his eyes. There was no hint of recognition in them. “We do not give you leave to call Us by that name, priest.”

“Teomitl—it’s me—”

His next step went through nothing at all, and the world was filled with blood-tinged saltwater. Teomitl’s throne cracked and broke apart as he watched, sending him tumbling through the depths an arms’ length away. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move.

Terrified, he opened his mouth to call Teomitl’s name again, but water rushed in to fill his lungs instead of air, and he thrashed desperately.

Now, for the first time, Teomitl was looking at him as though he knew him, and his eyes were wide with panic. A flailing hand reached for him—their fingers were close enough to touch—but when it encountered his skin, it slipped through as though he was already a ghost. “Acatl!”

He couldn’t respond. Blood and water filled his mouth. I’m sorry. I love you.

Eyes wide open, he watched Teomitl sink into the darkness.

“Acatl-tzin!?”

Everything was dark. His limbs refused to obey him.

Something shook him, hard. A voice he knew as well as his own snapped in a note of panic, “Wake up!”

All at once, it was like a spell had been broken. His eyes shot open, and the tension coiling through his paralyzed limbs finally resolved itself in a jolt that had him sitting up and staring into space. His heart was hammering fit to escape his ribcage, and each breath burned. When he felt wetness on his face, he realized he’d been crying. “Hah,” he managed, aware now that Teomitl was staring at him. He couldn’t turn to face him. He couldn’t bear to.

Teomitl’s hand hovered in midair, as though he was afraid to touch him. “...Love...”

“Just a dream.” He sucked in a breath. His chest still hurt, and it was hard to breathe through the horrible congested feeling of too many tears. That’s right. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. Wherever my soul wandered in my sleep, I’m here now. This...this mat under me, these four walls around me, this is real. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I was awake. Ish.” Teomitl made a quiet grumbling noise, and Acatl immediately felt much worse. Of course Teomitl had been easy to rouse; as swiftly as he dropped off to sleep, he’d always struggled to stay that way, and what sleep he did get was all too frequently disturbed by nightmares. He’d sworn that Acatl’s presence helped, but...well. It clearly hadn’t tonight. “How do you feel?”

Acatl grimaced, staring down at his hands. If he balled them into fists, they didn’t tremble so badly. “I’m fine,” he lied. It would be true eventually.

Teomitl saw through him in an instant, as always. And, as always, he had no patience for it. Gaze focusing into a sharp glare, he snapped, “You are not, you’re shaking. I’ve never seen you have a nightmare like that before.”

He focused on his breathing. In. Out. In again. Slowly, his heart started to calm, and the residue of that sick terror started to drain out. “...I’m...” But he couldn’t finish the lie.

Seeming to come to a decision, Teomitl moved to cover Acatl’s hand with his own. The touch was a shock for a moment—that was right, he had a body other people could interact with—but then it sank in. The warmth of his lover’s skin, the smooth callouses from his swordwork, the faint raised scar across his palm. “No. I heard you weeping for me.”

He closed his eyes briefly. No, that wasn’t a good idea. He could still see the ahuitzotls when he blinked. He opened his eyes again, and this time he looked at Teomitl. His beloved looked drowsy, moonlight shrouding his features, but he could make out a hard, stubborn set to his mouth that he knew very well; it said that Teomitl knew what Acatl was doing, and he didn’t appreciate it. And Acatl had promised him honesty. Reluctantly, he nodded. “Mm.”

Teomitl gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “...Want to talk about it?”

Despite himself, a smile tugged at his lips. As carefully as the question was phrased, it was obvious what Teomitl wanted to hear, and he wouldn’t stop until he heard it. No matter how much he’d grown, he’d always be the man that had upended Acatl’s lonely life and built a space for himself in it with nothing but dogged persistence and a radiant smile. “...You won’t take no for an answer, will you?”

Ah. Perhaps he’d been a bit curt, because Teomitl looked stung. “I would. You know that. But if it disturbs your sleep—if wherever your soul has wandered has hurt you—then I want to know about it.”

“So you can kill it?” Acatl quipped, half-serious. Granted, he wouldn’t put it past him...but still.

“Hrmph,” Teomitl muttered. “If I can, yes.”

Oh, my love. He exhaled. “...Alright, then.”

But saying he’d tell his lover about it and actually making his mouth form the words were two different things, and for a long moment he couldn’t figure out where to begin. Finally, with Teomitl’s thumb making little circles over his knuckles, he started to speak. “I was in the Sacred Precinct, and everything was made of gold, but I was alone. I knew you were there somewhere, just ahead of me, but I couldn’t see you. So I went into the palace...and it was full of ahuitzotls dressed as noblemen and warriors, all praising you. All calling you their savior.” Teomitl’s muttered, “ew” bolstered him somewhat, giving him the strength to continue. “Then I found you, and...”

He trailed off. He couldn’t continue. Teomitl’s fingers tightened on his. “And?”

“You didn’t know me.” His voice shook. “You were on the throne, dressed as an emperor, with blood up to your ankles, and you looked at me like a stranger.”

Teomitl sucked in a breath. “I could never.”

“I know. But you know how things are in dreams.” He was starting to suspect what had brought it on, too; the army was preparing to put down another rebellion, one that would take his lover away from him for weeks, and there was always the effects of Tizoc’s presence to worry about. He’d thought he’d gotten over his concerns. I trust him. We trust each other. But...I suppose my sleeping mind doesn’t agree.

“...I do.” Teomitl grimaced. “But that doesn’t sound like the worst of it.”

Acatl shook his head. “It wasn’t.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No, you were right. Talking...it does help.” It reminds me that it wasn’t real. It hasn’t happened, and Duality willing it will not.

Teomitl laced their fingers together, biting his lip. “Alright.”

He’d lost his momentum, and it took a while for him to regain it. “Anyway. Then...then...” He took a breath. “We were drowning in blood, and I saw recognition in your eyes again as you died in front of me. You—and I was right there!” He shuddered at the memory, feeling cold despair grip his innards again. I was right there. I watched you die. I watched you drown, still trying to call my name—calling for me to save you, and I couldn’t. “I couldn’t touch you—it was like you were already a ghost...”

“Acatl,” Teomitl breathed.

He swallowed, shaking his head. Enough of that. Teomitl’s right here, holding my hand. I shouldn’t be this affected. “I’m sorry, I’m overwrought—”

Teomitl kissed him. It was quick and sudden and hard, licking into his half-open mouth and leaving him reeling from the sensation of a hot mouth and a clever tongue and the faint sting of teeth. He was kissing back before he knew it, grabbing for his lover’s shoulder just to keep himself upright; when a hand found his waist and gripped hard in response, fingers digging in to the meat of his side, he let out a breathy whine that wasn’t even remotely one of pain.

Then Teomitl broke the kiss, gazing steadily into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “You’re mine, aren’t you? I won’t leave you behind.”

“You can’t—” Promise that, he was going to say, but then Teomitl’s mouth was on his again, stealing the words. This kiss was slower, more tender, but no less devastating for that. When that tongue slid into his mouth again and the hand at his waist slid up his ribs, he arched his back with a moan. He might still leave me, came the treacherous thought. He is a warrior, and once he is crowned he’ll have no shortage of enemies. But that’s not tonight, is it?

Teomitl shifted attention to his throat, lips moving against the sensitive skin. “I can, and I will. Let me prove it to you.”

Then he was uncurling himself, sliding a thigh between Acatl’s legs as he pressed him down to the mat, and Acatl let himself be molded. Yes, this was what he wanted—Teomitl on top of him, all solid muscle and strong, gentle hands, a mouth pressing kisses to his collarbone and a hand lightly tugging at his hair to keep him in place. His hands just seemed to fit at Teomitl’s back, mapping out muscles with his palms and making his lover shiver appreciatively; he had a moment to feel smug, but then teeth nibbled at his throat and he shuddered all over, feeling the tension in his own spine drain away. “Mmm...”

“That’s good,” Teomitl breathed. “Lay back, love. Let me take care of you.”

A hand skimmed down his stomach; as tired as he still was, his body twitched to life. Falling in love with Teomitl had done wonders for his stamina. The thigh between his legs rubbed against his rapidly stiffening cock, and he exhaled sharply. “Oh.”

“See?” Teomitl’s voice was soft. “We’re both here and alive. Together.” He wrapped a hand around Acatl’s cock, thumbing the sensitive spot below the head as he started to work him to full hardness. It didn’t take long, not with the friction of that perfectly placed thigh, and when he squeezed a little harder Acatl gasped.

“Ah...!” It trailed off into a sharp cry, because Teomitl knew just how to touch him. The twist of a wrist at just the right angle made him shudder anew, rolling his hips into that wonderful hand. He was full of sensation, had to do something with it; needing more, he slid a hand up into Teomitl’s hair and drew him up to for another long, hungry kiss. Yes. Yes. Every beat of his heart said it—that they were here, that they were alive, that nothing would part them if Teomitl could stop it.

Teomitl returned the kiss eagerly before drawing away with a wicked smile. “Oh, I wish I could see you now.” He punctuated his words with a slow upwards stroke, and when Acatl sighed in pleasure he chuckled quietly. “You sound as good as you feel.”

That was accompanied by another rippling squeeze, and for a moment Acatl couldn’t even think. Heat rose slowly through his veins, coiling in the pit of his stomach, and he rocked steadily into it. There was Teomitl’s sure, strong hand and the steady pressure of his thigh rubbing against his balls; he ground against it breathlessly before finding words again. He knew he was blushing. “Nnh...voyeur...”

Teomitl smirked, unrepentant, and pressed up with his thigh, pulling a ragged groan out of him. “You deserve to be looked at.”

He huffed out a breath, turning his face away. You always say that. That I’m beautiful, that I’m desirable—I don’t know where you get that from. You’re the beautiful one. And the one that deserved attention too; when he shifted, grinding against him, he could feel Teomitl’s hard cock grazing his own. Loose-limbed with his own desire, he managed somehow to get a hand between them and reach for it; it all but twitched against his fingers, and he gasped a little at how eager his lover was. “Nnh...wait, wait, let me...”

But Teomitl was shaking his head and drawing back, robbing him of his prize. “No.” His grin flashed white teeth in the darkness. “This is for you. You can make it up to me in the morning.”

And there would be quite a lot to make up; Teomitl was still keeping that slow, steady pace, but it was relentless. The building pressure at the base of his spine was enough to make Acatl groan and arch, letting his head fall back. That exposed his throat, and when Teomitl’s mouth found it again he let out a ragged moan at the faint scrape of teeth at his pulse. The way he was going, there would certainly be makes the next morning. He thought he should probably care about that, but at the moment it didn’t seem to matter. No, this slick rolling pleasure was far more important.

“Mmm...” More, he wanted to say. More of this. He couldn’t find the words, but that didn’t matter either; Teomitl knew what he wanted. He only had to let him give it to him. So he bucked into that clever hand, grinding against on his thigh on the way down, and let the sparks coalesce into a blaze.

“That’s it, c’mon...nnnh...” Acatl had slid against Teomitl’s cock again, and this time his lover wasn’t able to ignore it; he gave a rough, wonderful little growl and wriggled against it, seeking more stimulation. When Acatl reached for him again, he didn’t pull away.

Oh, and Teomitl was so responsive. He had to have been hard since nearly the moment they’d started touching; when Acatl squeezed, circling the head of his cock, his groan was loud and sweet to Acatl’s ears. Emboldened, he did it again, establishing a steady rhythm. “What was that,” he breathed with a hot grin, “about me making it up to you in the morning?”

“Acatl-tzin.” It came out in a near-whine, one that went straight to his cock; he shuddered, fucking into Teomitl’s grip, and redoubled his efforts. Teomitl kissed him roughly, all teeth and tongue and a deliciously reverberating moan, and as the hand on his cock sped up he knew he was close. It would be easy to lay back and enjoy it, but he wanted to please his lover as well.

I love you, he thought, and when he got his mouth back—Teomitl had moved to his throat, muffled gasps and soft cries setting his blood to simmering with desire—he gasped out, “Need to touch you—oh.” He hadn’t thought Teomitl was holding back on him, but evidently he had been; he shifted to press their cocks together, grinding hard against him, and it turned the world behind Acatl’s eyes to white sparks. Words failed him. He was so close—gods, so close—

His orgasm rolled through him like the tide, and all he could do was groan as the inexorable tremors rippled through him. Teomitl’s followed a moment after, hitched breaths ending in almost a sob as he spilled himself over Acatl’s skin.

Even when they both came down from that high, they didn’t move. He knew he should clean up, but he was utterly content to lay on his back like a lizard and bask in pleasantly languorous postcoital bliss. His nightmares had never felt further away, nor had he ever been so wonderfully aware of the body he inhabited. Teomitl was the one to wipe their combined spend off their stomachs with the nearest piece of fabric and immediately flop onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow and gazing at Acatl so tenderly that it made his heart melt. Acatl had to touch him again, settling a hand on the curve of his waist and letting his lips curve in a soft smile. My beloved. You’ll always keep me safe, won’t you?

Even in the darkness, Teomitl’s smile was like a sun rising. “...Think you’ll sleep better now?”

“Mm...” He considered it. He was tired, both in body and mind, and his release had certainly relaxed him. But there was sweat drying on his skin, and the temperature had dropped quite a bit. “It’s a little cold.”

Then he squeaked, because Teomitl was scooping up one of their discarded cloaks and wrapping it and his arms around him like a giant tamale. He found himself with his face buried in Teomitl’s chest, soft cotton cocooning him gently, and he drew in a long breath that was full of the scent of his lover’s skin. He was safe. Teomitl would protect him. “Mmm...”It was a little difficult for him to get his arms free of the fabric, but he persevered until he could slide them around Teomitl’s waist, holding him close. There, that was better.

“Warmer now?” Teomitl nuzzled into his hair, sounding gently amused.

He yawned, working his jaw in an approximation of a word. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good.” Teomitl stroked his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut on a long exhale. His lover’s voice lowered. “Let’s go back to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning, Acatl.”

He smiled. “I know you will.”

#obsidian and blood #acatl #teomitl #teocatl #not work safe #paladin writes stuff

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dreamyyang · 5 years ago

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To All The Boys I’ve Hated — 01

Summary: “What starts with ‘f’ and ends with ‘uck’? Firetruck! Welcome to Camp Firetruck, we hope you aren’t carrying any carrots because the demon rabbits will attack you.”

Three weeks of summer camp with the seven boys you hated the most was a clusterfuck of chaos waiting to happen.

Warning(s): themes of bullying (here and there), behaviour that really shouldn’t be condoned, cursing, a few questionable life decisions, weird animals and even weirder camp counsellors, author has never been to a camp so spare her if she fucks up

A/N: it’s here y’all

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Your heart ached, its walls clenching in anguish. The pain coursed through your veins like electricity, the sparks concentrated in the cavity in your chest. The light from your eyes had vanished. It had been snatched away from your irises, leaving behind a shadow of its former glow of happiness. Your lips were dry and chapped, the lines on your lips ran deep, but not as deep as your emotional scars—

“Wipe that look of long suffering off your face would you? You look like we’re sending you off to a concentration camp,” your mother said, exasperated.

“But birth giver, do you not see that you’ve thrust upon me a fate that I believe is just as painful—”

Your mother only rolled her eyes, tossing a pile of clothes at you, “Save the theatrics for summer camp, would you? I hear they tell stories every night. You can recite your tragic soliloquy then. Now start packing, you don’t want a late night.”

Your body lazily slid down the side of your bed, limbs flopping onto the floor in response. Your mother smacked you on the back of your head, “You’re dragging the clothes down with you.”

You pouted exaggeratedly, speaking in a baby voice, “Sowwy mummy, pwease forgive me.”

“I’m this close to selling you.”

You huffed, making a face at your mother’s back as she left the room. After sitting on the ground and staring at your open suitcase for what felt like an eternity, you finally got off the floor. You grabbed the clothes on your bed as well as those from the clothes basket your mother had left behind and began packing. Your mind was already trying to come up with ways to get out of going to camp.

To be fair, your mother was sending you to a place where you’d had some of your best memories as a child. You’d spent two weeks of your summer vacation at Camp Firetruck since you were six years old but you stopped going by the time you were eleven. Now going back at sixteen just felt weird to you. Wouldn’t you be too old by now?

Of course, there was a bigger reason as to why you didn’t want to go back to camp but you forced yourself not to think about it. You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to mentally push out your thoughts. It took you a few minutes, but you finally opened your eyes, having been able to move your thoughts to the back of your mind. You stared down at your suitcase for a moment before slamming it shut and zipping it up, as if that was a way for you to keep your memories at bay.

You stood up, a queasy sensation in your stomach making your knees feel weak. You let out a shaky sigh, rolling your eyes at yourself.

“Fucking hell, y/n, it’s not that deep.”

The loudness was unsettling. Camp was far more chaotic than you remembered and you were feeling extremely uncomfortable. There was a flurry of activity around you, campers of all ages were running around, parents were yelling goodbye and telling their demonic kin to behave themselves and the camp’s theme song ‘Firetruck’ played loudly in the background. In the middle of all the life and activity was you, standing stiffly with your suitcase in hand, backpack on your shoulders and a terrified expression on your face.

You were trying to get to the quadrangle where orientation would be held but there was so much going on and you felt so out of place. A hilarious contrast to your previous summers. You used to fit in perfectly. Perhaps that was why camp felt more normal back then, you were just as loud and full of energy as it was— and still is. After what felt like an eternity, you managed to make it towards the front.

Having noticed that you were struggling, a boy with bright orange hair walked up to you, “Need help carrying your bag?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s just that there’s so much going on, I’m scared I’ll hit someone with my suitcase.”

“It’s fine, they’ll just laugh it off if camp is still as chill as I remember it to be.”

“You haven’t been here in a while? Me neither!”

“Yeah, I moved back to Shanghai for a while. That’s my hometown. Well, city. You?”

You bit your lip, refusing to recall the memories that had been in your head the previous day, “I got busy during the summer. So yeah…”

You trailed off before realising that you had yet to introduce yourself, “I’m y/n, by the way. You are?”

The boy tilted his head slightly, “Don’t you remember me?”

You frowned and blinked, “Should I?”

The boy seemed amused as he smiled, shaking his head, “Nevermind. Well, at least we can get to know each other this summer?”

You smiled weakly and nodded. You didn’t get along well with boys, especially those your age, but that was mainly because the boys at your school weren’t exactly the nicest people. However, you were sent to camp because your parents felt you were being too asocial. This could be a chance to break out of your shell and prove to yourself that not all boys were terrible.

He hadn’t told you his name yet and you were about to ask again when a familiar boy walked up to the two of you, “I see you’ve met y/n.”

Park Jisung. What was he doing here at camp? You would’ve expected that his parents would take their little golden boy on some sort of exciting trip abroad. You tried your best not to feel disheartened but your hopes of having a male friend for the first time in years was already making its way down the drain. If he was friends with Jisung then it was unlikely that he was going to like you for long.

Suddenly, the unsettling feeling came rushing back along with a distant memory. One of twelve year old Zhong Chenle shrieking in front of the entire class, “Y/n has boy and girl parts!”

Your eyes snapped from Jisung to Chenle, panic rising in your mind. There was no way you were dealing with this. Not for three weeks. You cleared your throat, preparing yourself to grab your suitcase and make a run for it. All of a sudden, the sharp feedback from a microphone breached your ears, directing yours as well as the rest of the campers’ attention to a familiar bespectacled boy who was struggling with his megaphone. Your palms grew sweaty as you watched in horror.

“Uhm, check? Testing? He-hello?”

There stood one of your biggest nightmares. Clad in the dorky lime green camp shirt and jeans with a cap shaped like a siren with a smiley face. Mark Lee. The tension in your mind built as he continued to fumble with his megaphone. That malicious, soul-sucking wretch who’d be sent from the murky abyss of hell to personally torture. The smiling cicada with chibi eyes could only mean one thing. You were going to suffer.

“Yo campers!”

“Fighting haeyadwae!”

“Mom please pick me up, I’m begging you!”

“No, y/n, what a ridiculous reason! Just because the boys you don’t get along with are at the same camp as you are, doesn’t mean you should leave,” you could practically hear your mother rolling her eyes as she spoke.

“But ma—”

“No! You kids are so ridiculous, you fight all the time and make it hard for everybody else.”

“Ma—”

“Nothing doing, y/n, you are staying at Camp. God, when did you become such a brat? You’ll really use any excuse to stay inside your room like a bat.”

“Seriously though—”

“Natural sunlight won’t hurt you, now get off the phone, I’m driving.”

“Fine, I love y—”

Your mother cut the call because you could finish your sentence. You sighed, you were definitely one of two things: either someone who committed a heinous sin in their past life or an adopted child.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

You shrieked, surprised by the sudden voice. You spun around, involuntarily reaching out to punch the owner of the voice. However, you just ended up punching air.

“Ouch, that hurt,” Na Jaemin said, sarcastically.

You internally groaned, you were really hoping to avoid interacting with Mark and his friends. Especially Jaemin. Out of the seven devils, he was inarguably the worst.

“Why were you eavesdropping?”

“Why are you being such a baby and crying for your mommy?” He retorted with a grin which you ached to punch off his face.

“None of your damn business,” you snapped before walking towards your assigned cabin, making it a point to harshly brush your shoulder against his own.

You heard him mumble to himself but you couldn’t be bothered to try and listen. You were just fixated on appearing confident as you walked away.

“Channel your inner Hwasa, channel your inner Hwasa,” your mind repeated until you’d reached your cabin.

You swore you could feel Jaemin’s gaze burning through the back of your head but that could just be the self consciousness that he brough out in you. Na Jaemin was easily the most intimidating boy you knew. Standing within even a centimetre’s radius of him terrified you. You fought the urge to behave like the stupid main character from the horror movies you loved and turn around to look at the monster creeping around behind you. You swallowed, your throat uncomfortably dry and your palms sweaty. Before you could reach out to twist the door knob, your cabin mate stepped out, pushing you off balance. Your eyes widened as you caught a glimpse of Lee Jeno, his face mirroring your surprised expression.

Jeno panicked, his arms reaching out to grab you. Thankfully, he managed to pull you back to your feet. Your scalp was less than thankful though, it was burning with pain. Jeno, being the idiot he was, had grabbed a fistful of your hair to keep you from falling. You grimaced, your hands massaging the back of your scalp as you softly hissed in pain. The boy in front of you was still wide-eyed, words spilling from his mouth incoherently. You held up a hand, your face still scrunched in pain, halting Jeno’s unintelligible apology.

To his credit, Jeno looked incredibly apologetic. And slightly scared of what you were going to say; you weren’t a person of few words. Indubitably, you were going to give the poor boy an earful. His friends had teasingly mentioned that he looked like a puppy and he silently prayed that he would look pitiful enough for you to not raise your voice.

Your angry rant never came. Jaemin had strutted up to you with a pleased grin on his incessantly chapped lips, “Getting kinky are we? Gosh, at least do it inside.”

Your glare was quickly diverted to him, much to Jeno’s relief. You were aching to give the both of them a piece of your mind but you couldn’t work up the courage to do it. You hated how weak Jaemin made you feel. Clenching your hands into sweaty fists, your gaze awkwardly darted away from Jaemin to the bright red ‘9’ that had been painted onto the cabin door. You were at the correct cabin but why had Jeno been inside your cabin? Your mind began to race with thoughts. Perhaps him and Jaemin were trying to pull a prank on you. That would explain why Jaemin had been keeping an eye on you a few moments earlier.

Trying your best to muster up the courage to sound harsh, you glanced at Jaemin for a second before speaking, “I’d prefer it if you stayed away from my cabin, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.”

You could have sworn you saw Jaemin’s eyes twinkle. He jokingly stood at attention and saluted you, “The Tweedle twins reporting for cabin mate duty.”

“Fucking pardon?”

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Shameless Season 11 Episode 11 Review: The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits

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This Shameless episode contains spoilers.

Shameless Season 11 Episode 11

“We’re adults now. This is what adults do. They move on.”

Shameless tows the line over whether Frank Gallagher is actually wise or just so high on his own supply that he’s convinced himself that he’s a street smart genius. The truth of the matter is irrelevant because either way Frank still makes bold declarations as if they were the word of God. He’s a non-stop repository for nonsensical advice and Frank’s teachings have been present through every season, even if they’re lessons that the Gallaghers actively ignore.

“The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits” pushes a narrative where characters need to either move forward or slow down, but a greater source of wisdom that influences the episode’s structure is the laundry list of life lessons that Frank has spewed out for eleven seasons. This direction turns Shameless’ penultimate episode into one of the most emotional and impressive entries of the season and provides the right direction for next week’s big finale.

Previous seasons of Shameless frequently treat Frank like an unrepentant derelict and there are times where he even operates as an outright villain. This final season has worked hard to humanize Frank as he transitions into this feeble stage of his life and it’s been a very powerful experience. Now, an episode away from the very end of Shameless, Frank is at his absolute worst and at this point there’s no hatred towards this passive father figure, only pity. William H. Macy looks utterly lost in these scenes and he’s really put everything into this final season. Macy actually deserves some award consideration when the time comes and this is the episode that he should submit.

Frank is usually the one that drives the chaos forward in Shameless, right down to the previous episode, but “The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits” turns into a somber celebration of all things Frank Gallagher as Liam graciously tries to remind Frank of the indomitable fighting spirit that’s defined him for his entire life. Liam throws Frank’s own advice back at him when he tells him, “Either you run the day, or the day runs you.”

This episode feeds off of the energy between Liam and Frank from the previous installment and it’s appropriate that Liam is the one that’s with Frank during his weakest moments. Frank can rest easy knowing that Liam is living proof that goodness has come out of all of his selfish behavior over the years and somehow this child has been able to synthesize his ramblings into practical advice.

It’s a lot of fun to return to this farcical side of Frank’s character, but the comedic sensibilities of Shameless continue to be all over the place this season. There are some legitimately funny and subtle jokes throughout this episode, but there are also ridiculous setpieces where good samaritans get steamrolled by a truck. Shameless has always had a dark sense of humor, but it needs to have a little more confidence in itself and not resort to such broad gags that come close to breaking the reality of the show’s universe. Mickey’s consternation over housing complex guidelines feels more natural, and is funnier, than fatality punchlines or extended TikTok dance routines.

Mickey and Ian’s time in Chicago’s West Side becomes surprisingly fulfilling and it achieves the right balance between comedy and drama. This new lifestyle puts Mickey and Ian at odds with each other and it becomes a strong dissection of their characters as well as how far their relationship has come. Their material is full of great character moments, like how Mickey needs to listen to car crashes and general destruction as a white noise machine to help him peacefully fall asleep. Mickey’s discomfort over his new life becomes so severe that he has to sneak back into the Gallagher house and get up close and personal with the crime and chaos that echoes through the South Side.

I don’t expect Mickey to completely regress and be unable to forge ahead with Ian in this marginally swankier life, but this feels like a reasonable temporary hurdle for him to clear before the series concludes. Despite how this West Side lifestyle is a productive change for Ian and Mickey, it’s still something that Ian made official while Mickey wasn’t completely on board. It’s an understandable schism between them and the episode is smart to tease them falling back onto old habits, only to do the opposite.

“The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits” teases infidelity and disappointing decisions, but their selfless resolution to the problem is one of the sweetest moments from the entire season and basically what I’ve wanted from these two all season. Every character in Shameless has been through a tremendous amount this season and it’s impressive how Mickey and Ian’s conflict resolution methods have evolved from the volatile place that they were at when the season began.

Mickey and Ian display genuine maturity with their relationship issues and it’s a level of synergy and consistency that Debbie craves. Everyone is considerably worn down from the events of the season and is close to their breaking points, which in Debbie’s case finally causes her to take a long look at why her romantic endeavors have all been so toxic. This introspective attitude is good for Debbie, yet the victim mentality that she adopts and her anger that Frank has “ruined love for her” is a little too simplistic. Debbie has been in healthy relationships that failed because of preventable problems that she instigated.

Debbie polls the people in her life on how to build connections and stay together when her family is on the cusp of separation, which does carry a level of poignancy, even if not all of the insight that she acquires from the experience is healthy. It’s a storyline that works as well as it does here specifically because it’s juxtaposed around so many changes and goodbyes. Debbie does productive work to better herself, but the direction of her endgame is more than a little confusing.

“The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits” parses out several scenes where an aggressive woman named Heidi causes a wave of mayhem promptly after she’s released from prison. Initially it looks like Heidi’s roaring rampage will intersect with Carl’s new police gig and provide him an opportunity to take down this menace and become a hero again on the force. That’s not at all what happens and it’s madness that Heidi is meant to instead provide closure for Debbie!

Heidi literally threatens to shoot Franny with a revolver and minutes later Debbie is ready to spend the rest of her life with this loose cannon. The most frustrating thing is that next week’s series finale will likely hint at a happy future for this fresh couple, but based on everything that’s known about both of these characters it seems like it’s destined to go up in flames, perhaps even more quickly than previous relationships.

Carl doesn’t get to take out an angst-ridden recidivist, but he does still find some peace and gain a better understanding of his calling after a season of being frustrated. Carl’s impassioned speech is long overdue, eloquent as hell, and completely right. It also would have been justified several episodes back, but at this point Carl’s pent up frustration over what he’s witnessed at the police department makes sense.

It’s encouraging that Carl embraces his demotion and uses it to find clarity. It’s still hard to say if this police direction for Carl’s character was worth it in the end, but thankfully it doesn’t suck out his soul or leave him bitter at the world. Joshua Malina is such a hyperbolized schlub through all of this, which is entertaining and also reflects the greater level of incompetence that surrounds Carl while he attempts to do honest police work.

Carl and many of the Gallaghers are caught in flux when it comes to their new lives, but Kevin and Vee already have Chicago in their rearview mirrors. Vee and Kevin represent a force of confidence and their resolve towards Louisville inadvertently helps many of the Gallaghers work through their own sources of stress. It even feels natural that the person that Kevin and Vee sell their house off to turns into a break for Lip to diminish the colony of ulcers that have been brewing in him all season. This blessed development also doesn’t feel contrived because it’s an opportunity that Lip ultimately botches.

Liam reminds Frank that he’ll have both good and bad days, but this cautionary advice becomes even more applicable to Lip’s story. It’s heartbreaking how everything sours for Lip and there’s such palpable tension through it all. This is supposed to be Lip’s easy way out to a happy ending and it instead quickly becomes a nightmare. It’s very clear that something is about to go wrong and just how poorly Lip has handled this situation. It’s a slow motion car crash of drama to the worst degree.

This sword is left to hang over Lip as the episode concludes and he almost seems to accept the cloud of hopelessness that’s formed over him. It’s a sad, hollow version of Lip that doesn’t feel dissimilar to Frank Gallagher and his decision to go out on his own terms. Frank’s concluding moments are devastating, but they’re also the only time in the episode where he feels empowered. It’s a turn that fundamentally changes the tone for Shameless’ series finale and has the potential to bring out the best in each character. There’s now a small sliver of hope that Fiona might show up, whereas I was previously convinced that this was impossible.

“The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits” is the strongest episode of Shameless’ final season, it contains some of William H. Macy’s absolute best work from the show, and it instills some optimistic confidence for what the series has planned for its final installment. The Gallaghers’ lives are far from over and there’s still a lot that these characters need to figure out before the series’ conclusion. The tragedy that strikes in the episodes’s final moments is a strong catalyst that should bring everyone together and deliver a series finale that’s just as much about togetherness and supporting each other as it is about new beginnings and closing the door on the past.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

It will also absolutely end on its own terms, just like Francis Gallagher.

The post Shameless Season 11 Episode 11 Review: The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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florbelles · 4 years ago

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otp questions meme

tagged by @nightwingshero and @returnofthepd3, thanks loves! doing this for john x lyra since that’s the shared fandom

tagging (and i sincerely apologize if you’ve done it or been tagged several times i haven’t been online today) @overboss @fillianore @callmeredhood @sharky-broshaw @chuckhansen @softmillers @tommymillers @spicevalleys @chyrstis @theoutlawdiaries @stvnningstrike @risenlucifer @smithandrogers and anyone else who has otps to talk about (let me know if you would or would not like to be tagged in these things, i feel like pretty much revert to the same list)

DISAGREEMENTS

who is more likely to raise their voice? lyra’s usually the first but both of them do it who threatens to leave but never actually does? neither during arguments tbh who actually keeps their word and leaves? neither who trashes the house? lyra while john just stands back pointing screaming WRATH. WRATH WAY TO GO WRATHY NICE JOB do either of them get physical? not the way this means how often do they argue/disagree? at first they're both kind of constantly testing/pushing each other because the concept of unconditional love is foreign to them so there's a constant undercurrent of deliberate provocation or extreme overcompensation but it's something they learn to move past. by the time they're well established and comfortable in their relationship it becomes a fairly rare thing who is the first to apologize? they would both claim the other person does but they usually just end up blowing off steam and circling back to it when they can discuss things more calmly (but tbh most of their fights are incredibly petty have you met them)

(full questionnaire under the cut -- cw for sex, drugs & alcohol references)

SEX

who is on top? either/or who is on the bottom? same who has the strangest desires? lyra tends to have the more inopportune impulses or ill-advised ideas but that’s more of a “no lyra we are not having sex right now you are severely injured that is an entire gunshot wound what happened” “well clearly i got shot john take off your clothes” than anything else any kinks? i mean. nothing that would be unexpected. since it’s them. who’s dominant in bed? it’s either/or tbh they’re both enthusiasts is head ever in the equation? of course if so, who is better at performing it? they’ve both been around the block many many times sex isn’t a problem for them ever had sex in public? yes, occasionally to unfortunate results. rip to that resistance man who walked by at the wrong time who moans the most? the guards at the ranch hate their job next question who leaves the most marks? both of them honestly they’re rabid who is the more experienced of the two? john (because, lyra would explain, he’s older, he’s an old man, not for lack of effort on her part) do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? fuck initially because it’s what they’re used to, make love later, still do both rough or soft? it’s situational tbh, softer when they’re lazy in the mornings and just want to be together and rough when they’re in the mood how long do they usually last? it’s more a matter of how long they have honestly is protection used? lyra has it covered iud wise does it ever get boring? like i said this is like the one (1) intimacy area they’re fucking great with so no where is the strangest place they’d have sex? i mean. they’ve attempted most places tbh their family and flock live in constant fear of what they’ll walk in on at any given moment

FAMILY

do they plan on having children/or have children? in the alternate cult wins the holy war timeline only; lyra didn’t really want to have them before they left the bunker but it ended up happening five years in anyway since she ran through the preventatives if so, how many children do they want/have? they have twins and a younger son, so three; in my main canon they have none

AFFECTION

who likes to cuddle? both but john’s needier about it who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? both of them who struggles to keep their hands to themself? both of them, have you met them, they’re not chill dudes how long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? it’s much easier for lyra to express affection physically than verbally so it’s their main outlet honestly, comfort is secondary who gives the most kisses? like i said it’s really the only way lyra can say i love you so it’s definitely lyra what is their favourite non-sexual activity? hot baths, they’ve had a long day harvesting saving souls where is their favourite place to cuddle? they like to sit in those stupid rocking chairs outside the ranch, by the fire pit in their yard or on their couch by the fireplace how often do they get time to themselves? less as the conflict they call the holy war escalates tbh, but they take it where they can

SLEEPING

who snores? john if both do, who snores the loudest? if lyra’s snoring it’s because she’s sick and she’s an entire freight train do they share a bed or sleep separately? share a bed if they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? they fully sleep on top of each other, NO breathing ONLY crushing weight of partner >:(((( what do they wear to bed? they don’t tbh, unless they’re trying to nap in the middle of the day because their sleep schedules were ruined by that pesky war they started are either of them insomniacs? sleep is increasingly a luxury for them but no, not really. lyra has more trouble sleeping alone/in general because she’ll down like five cups of coffee immediately before bed and then be like why is sleep evading me. how could this happen what kind of twisted joke is this i cannot believe the heretics have done this can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? no do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? they’re a tangled mess lbr who wakes up with bed hair? both but lyra has a ridiculous amount of hair so she’s more visibly A Mess who wakes up first? lyra but she usually immediately wakes john up so everyone loses who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? neither. lyra will bring coffee up for both of them and then get back in bed with him and end up passing out so. thanks for the cold useless coffee lyra good job what is their favourite sleeping position? i think i’ve established “position” is an optimistic way to describe the twined up sleeping mess that is them do they set an alarm each night? not usually, lyra’s up with the sun no matter what so it’s only if they have to be up earlier than that for something project-related can a television be found in their bedroom? no tbh who has nightmares? john about the past, lyra about the future who has ridiculous dreams? lyra who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? this usually isn’t an issue tbh. they’ll accuse each other of it but if it happens it’s usually more of a “someone shifted in their sleep and took the sheets with them” situation who makes the bed? neither of them, lyra’s more likely to remember to strip the sheets off what time is bed time? oh to have a consistent bed time again. they sleep when and where they can, honestly. neither of them are proud of the desk incident. or the fire pit incident. or -- any routines/rituals before bed? they’ll wash up while they recap but nothing unusual (if you ignore the blood they’re scrubbing out of their nail beds) who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? john because if he’d known he was signing up for sadistic disney princess leaning her head out the window at 5:30 am every day he might have reconsidered the sleeping arrangements

WORK

who is the busiest? both of them have a lot going on, who rakes in the highest income? john. lyra was also rich before the cult but if Most of john’s money came from ethically questionable means nearly All of lyra’s did. does pawning the apology diamonds you stole off a philanderer count as ‘income?’ are any of them unemployed? no, the sinners keep them busy who takes the most sick days? john. lyra shows up holding her guts in with her hand like heyyyy who we hunting!!! oh this no it’s fine i’m fine who is more likely to turn up late to work? if they’re late they’re both late, you get me, but it doesn’t happen since work is a life or death situation for them who sucks up to their boss? john. lyra respects joseph but she isn’t desperate for his love and approval, so. you know. what are their jobs? the baptist & judge of eden’s gate. insert truly horrifying job descriptions here who stresses the most? john about the short term (joseph’s disapproval, lyra got stabbed again and decided not to mention it), lyra about the long term do they enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? they love what they do! how lovely for them! ignore the screaming and the antlered corpse you get used to it are they financially stable? yes

HOME

who does the washing? neither. out of the generosity of their hearts they give others the chance to atone by doing everything for them! acts of service! yes! who takes out the trash? their kindness and generosity knows no bounds who do you think takes out the trash who does the ironing? oh lyra actually does this sometimes because she doesn’t trust anyone else with an iron around her clothes who does the cooking? all jokes aside, neither of them, the project takes care of that who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? neither, they’re more likely to burn the house down because they got distracted~ and left the oven on who is messier? i mean have you seen the ranch have you seen the bunker they live in chaos but lyra carries the added threat of lipstick and mascara and bleeding on the table because she’s trying to stitch herself up who leaves the toilet roll empty? neither who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? they both shed them in a hurry but lyra i guess who forgets to flush the toilet? neither who is the prankster around the house? lyra’s more likely to start it but honestly they do so much shit to fuck with each other who even remembers how it began at this point what matters is lyra’s wanted: sinner poster was over the fireplace for a week who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? lyra is more likely to lose the key to john’s hangar oh no baby guess you can’t fly today (i jest, the answer is neither, they care deeply about their vehicles and more importantly need to be ready to Go at any given moment) who mows the lawn? the peggies. the flock, i mean. their beloved flock. bless them. who answers the telephone? either. usually john. who does the vacuuming? neither who does the groceries? neither, but since lyra’s undercover she can smuggle things back from town sometimes who takes the longest to shower? both of them are menaces but lyra’s hair weighs two tons soaking wet so the whole Process is a bit longer for her (but not by as much as it should be)

MISCELLANEOUS

is money a problem? not at all how many cars do they own? they have their personal cars and then de facto ownership/use of any of the project’s vehicles so. too many do they own their home or do they rent? they own their home and one way or another they’re gonna own your home, too do they live in the city or in the country? country do they enjoy their surroundings? they do now. they’ll talk about their favorite places that are tragically going to get toasted by god’s cleansing fire but they’re happy so it doesn’t matter what’s their song? rabid by nicole dollanganger but don’t tell them they will be deeply offended what do they do when they’re away from each other? when they’re not together they’re usually either working or catching up with their other family members. un project-relatedly, lyra sends a lot of time with faith or going for walks across the henbane (often both), john pets affirmation lovingly where did they first meet? an eden’s gate service lyra attended because she wished to be a menace to scope the situation out, it was very brief and john was extremely wary because joseph was very intrigued by this rando who spends the most money when out shopping? both, someone help them who’s more likely to flash their assets? lyra, but both lbr who finds it amusing when the other trips over? ten minute montage of them pointing and laughing at each other’s failed dramatic exits and getting salty about it any mental issues? oh my god. oh my god who’s terrified of bugs? they got bigger problems who kills the spiders around the house? both their favourite place? the ranch, the yes sign because they’re like that who pays the bills? john deals with the accounts do they have any fears for their future? they’re not overly Worried about the collapse honestly they think they have things more under control than they actually do and in many ways are looking forward to it and that sweet sweet vindication but john is chronically worried by joseph’s concerns about him not making it to new eden and lyra is checks notes chronically worried by joseph’s concerns about john not making it to new eden who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? lyra and it’s a surprise because wtf you’ve been able to cook this whole time we’ve been eating lyle’s food for months who’s the tallest? john when they’re barefoot but i mean. lyra loves her heels who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? they both do this pretty much any time one’s in the shower tbh who wanders around in their underwear? lyra. she loves clothes for the aesthetic but she lives in lingerie and dressing gowns at home who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? lyra always what do they tease each other about? lyra teases john about being older like ah yes john, how is at 32, the age that you totally are, the actual age of 32 called and it’s holding your ass hostage. makes fun of oh john, thinks it’s ridiculous. pitches her voice three octaves higher when she repeats anything he says to anyone. john makes fun of her impractical hair and that time she killed a dude in idaho for threatening her at a gas station and then threw together the worst cover up known to man like wow lie-ruh what a great serial killer you are whoa your competence is astounding your sheer talent your brilliant mind you planted your own gun at the scene iT dIdnT hAVe sERiaL NumBERs JOhn pffffft ridiculous who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? they’re glorious extra dramatic disasters with their fashion sense and they embrace it in each other tbh who crushed first? john but he was desperately gathering dirt on her to be like “see joseph she sucks 0/10 we do not need” so it was a complicated process for him any alcohol or substance related problems? oh yeah i mean they both have a history of addiction (john moreso than lyra drug-wise, she used them but it didn’t get to his level since seeing seeing how it affected her mother made her wary) and harmfully self-medicating so while they’re theoretically clean(er) they’re never going to have healthy relationships with addictive substances who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? lyra. i had to johnatthew the rethitanth wath takin shots i’m undercoverrr who swears the most? john when he’s upset, lyra in casual conversations

#tag memes #long post #x: from eden #oc: lyra fairbanks

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themagicalreads · 5 years ago

Text

Journey Home (Mature/Prompt)

Rapunzel was hot despite the biting cold wind of the sea rushing outside, and it was all the captain's doing. Jack sucked at the nape of her neck as he moved against her, drawing a long moan from her lips. She ran her fingers up his back, pulling him as close to her body as she could, before moving on to his hair.

"Mmm," his mumbling was deep, husky. She tugged at his white locks to bring more out of him, and he obliged wonderfully.

"Oh, captain," she whined in pure bliss.

He pulled away from her, suddenly, eyes sinking deep inside her soul.

"Jack," she corrected herself with a small smile. He rewarded her with a smirk and his tongue slipping in smoothly beside her own. Her entire body buzzed with energy, with light and tingles and love. Pure love, and shared ecstasy.

Rapunzel tightened her bare legs around Jack's hips as they continued their rocking. Then, she gripped his pale shoulders and flipped him onto his back so she now sat atop him, in control. His chest shivered as she ran her hands across it, feeling drunk by his very presence.

This was the most ruthlessly handsome man she'd ever laid eyes upon. The youngest captain to sail the Seven Seas on a fully crewed ship. And yet he had the biggest heart she'd ever had the pleasure of knowing. One he liked to trap inside of a birdcage called his ship. The Zella. A nameless ship named after her, of every human in existence.

The way he looked at her now with heavy-lidded eyes made her question how it had taken her so long to let him in, even after he'd saved her from a life no one wished to have. It had taken him a while to break apart his cold-hearted persona to her as well, but he'd shown her vulnerability long before she could even muster to reveal hers.

He gripped her hips gently, running his hands over her thighs and back again. To places that made her insides flip completely in the most wonderful of ways.

When they were finished, Jacks head dropped against the pillow as he tried to catch his breath. After a few seconds of relishing in his sweet scent, Rapunzel sat up on his hips and brought his suddenly-distanced mind back on board with a soft finger to his chin.

"Your heads off somewhere in the moon again," she said as his ice blue eyes, warm as the sun, met her own. They were full of sadness, and love, and pain.

"Is it?"

Rapunzel nodded.

"You're beautiful."

Tingles rushed over her spine, but she ignored them, to her body's dismay. She plucked his crumpled, white, linen shirt off the bedsheets beside them and pulled it over her chest. It was much more flowy on her than it ever was on him, which was one of the reasons why she loved wearing it to bed so much. Immediately, she felt fingers playing at its hem, tugging up and down. "And you're ignoring my questions again," she told him.

Jack sighed, pulling his wandering hands away from her to palm at his eyes. "Because it's a decision I've already made. We're going for the Black Treasure."

Rapunzel shook her head in disbelief. "Everyone's gone for the Black Treasure, you and I both know it's a death trap." She lowered her palms to his stomach. "No one's caught word of the Golden Flower yet, save from us, the Sea De Vil, and the Jolly Roger. And we're the ones closest to the island, as far as word carries. It'd be stupid not to go."

Jack shifted, gently pushing at her hips until she swung off of him. While he pulled his breeches on, Rapunzel sat patiently on her legs until he grumbled: "I'm not going back to Corona. I made that clear with you before you joined the crew."

"And I haven't said a word about it in six years. It would've been longer if Nicholas hadn't told us about the sighting."

Jack shook his head again, then glanced over his shoulder at her. "It's a magic golden flower. There's no such thing."

Rapunzel smiled softly, crawling over to sit just behind his shoulder. She slid her chin down over it, wrapping her arms around his own in an embrace that set her soul of fire. "I don't believe in magic," she mocked, in a horrible imitation of his voice. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say, Ice Man."

"I was cursed. There's a difference."

"You've never viewed your magic as a curse before. And even if it was technically a curse, the fact that it exists is proof that this flowers' powers can very much be real, too. We can't miss the chance of someone else finding it. Imagine the gold people would pay for it—more than all the treasures we've kept and sold combined. We can treasure it, too. Keep it to ourselves."

Jack was quiet for a long moment. She knew he'd grown up on the island, same as she, but he'd never confessed why he refused so strongly to go back, and she'd never felt the right to push. She hadn't told him everything about her long years in Gothelitch either. He had a right to his own privacy as everyone else did with things that didn't involve her.

He opened his mouth to speak, finally, when a loud bang! suddenly sounded from the door. "When you two lovebirds are done rubbin' up all over each other," Merida, the Zella's master gunner, yelled from the other side, "we got somethin' out here ya might wanna see."

"Aye!" Jack answered. The both of them hurried into their own garments and out of the captain's quarters. Out on the main deck, most of the crew stood gazing at something far off to sea.

"Ya see 'im watching us too?" Hook Hand's eyes glared under the hand pressed over his brows, shielding the sun.

"I can feel 'im," Big Nose added.

"Aye, captain! First lady," Merida sauntered over, nodding to the both of them. "Sailin' master's caught somethin' on the horizon. Gettin' easier to see by the second. Aye, Haddie," she yelled out to the sky, suddenly, where Hiccup Haddock stood on the main mast. "How's it lookin' up there?"

"Definitely him!" Hiccup yelled back. "I recommend we set sail East soon, unless we want a repetition of the blood moon!"

Rapunzel glanced at Jack, whose face was still as a frozen lake. The battle on the blood moon had been a nightmare, worse than any they'd been in. The Zella usually did its best to avoid physical conflict between other ships and coastal villages—it was how other pirates got their ships sunk to the ocean's bottom so quickly in their early days of sailing, or how they lost their treasure faster than they earned it, what with all the repairs it cost 'em. The Zella was more so of a silent threat, he'd say. We were a legend, never seen, yet wielding a deadly strike.

Their run-in with the Sea De Vil hadn't been planned. Jack was usually good at tricking others and tracking their thoughts long before they even made them, but he'd made a slight miss guess on Captain Crell's plans. He hadn't expected the renovations he'd given his ship months back for faster sailing. Guess someone else caught on to Jack's tricks—when you scream your plans out for the world to hear, surprise is an impossible thing to achieve. But if you put them to motion under the cover of sealed lips and well placed coins, diverting expectations most often turns victorious.

Now, that very ship was sailing straight for them, only but a small blip on the horizon. It would take a day for them for meet up if they continued on their current route.

"He's sailing for Corona," Rapunzel told him. "Heading South. We're a bonus treasure on his path."

"We're sinking him next time we meet." Jack's voice was stiff, and incredibly determined. There was no doubt in her that his words were true—the Zella's was easily the toughest ship on the Seas. "The Jolly Roger, too."

"You really think words not going to make it to the others if we take those two down? It's a useless endeavor. They'll just cost us more gold in repair, and for what? Temporarily stopping pirates from sailing for the Golden Flower?"

Jack's lips were pressed in a neat line. She knew she was getting onto his nerves about the topic, but she was itching to head home, despite what she told him. The one thing that had kept her from dangerous thoughts after she'd been forced into white slavery was the thought of seeing her parents again. She hoped her disappearance hadn't affected their protectiveness of her sister to a point of extreme. Slavery was a common thing, but her family had cared about one another far too much to let it become an unspoken topic, she knew.

"Please," Rapunzel whispered. She knew she was being cruel, torturing him this way, but she needed to see them at least one last time. She needed to know they were okay, and that she was too.

Jack refused to look at her. The pain he was trying so hard to hide in his eyes tore her heart to pieces. What was she doing to him? She knew she was right in her talk about the flower's worth, but Corona had always been the one thing he'd refused to hear talk about.

He scowled, finally, starring deep into the horizon. "Turn the sails south," he ordered.

***

They arrived at sunrise three days later. The Coronian seas were calm as they anchored down around a mountainous bend, covering them from prying eyes.

"Everyone, ready yourselves for a quick leave," Jack announced as he marched down the main deck. "I won't be long."

The crew groaned in disagreement.

"Ya mean none of us are comin' with, save for Zel?" Merida complained. "No offence, Cap, but that's idiocy at its best."

Jack shot her a dangerous look.

"You'll need Haddie for his navigation skills. And you'll need me, for added protection, yeah? Ain't that what we usually do?"

"This isn't a usual case," Jack informed her. But Merida had never been one to give up. It was a wonder Jack bothered keeping any of this crew around, considering how much they talked back at him. Rapunzel suspected he liked it, deep down. It made their days on the ship that much more entertaining and pleasant, considering the business they were in.

"We do make a good team," Hiccup had just climbed down from his mast, ready for departure. "Zella's four heads of ship."

"Fine." Jack gave in. "Shorty! Lower two boats. We leave immediately." And immediately they did. Rapunzel found herself sitting in front of an emotionless Jack in a matter of no time. His gaze was glassy, fixed on nothing as he rowed their boat off to shore. His grip on the paddles was tight; it worried Rapunzel.

"Talk to me," she said, finally, over the sound of waves tugging them along. "What are you thinking, Jack? It's no good keeping things bottled up inside. You're not a treasure map, or a letter lost at sea."

That brought out a brief chuckle from Jack. "It's nothing."

Rapunzel frowned. "You're worse than a lady. It's not nothing."

"Doesn't matter anyway," he shrugged.

The boat scratched to a stop against the sand, but Rapunzel made no move to get out. Instead, she hopped onto Jack's lap, legs on either side of his hips, and gently pried his fingers away from each paddle. They moved to rest on her waist, only to lower back to his side. The subtle action hurt Rapunzel more than she cared to admit. She leaned forward, oh so slowly, and slipped her tongue between his lips, soothed when she felt his hands return to caress her.

"I love you," she told him.

Jack closed his eyes, gripping at her hips with each rock of the boat. "Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true."

She felt one of his hands reaching up to rub against her hair. "It'll hurt more when you leave."

Realization dawned on her suddenly—he thought she would leave the Zella as soon as they docked in Corona. His sudden failed attempts at distancing himself from her made much more sense now. From the past three days, he'd been trying to rip away his attachment to her. Rapunzel gripped Jack's neck, brushing her fingers against the hair at his nape. "I just want to visit them," she clarified. "I want us all to know we're okay—that I am, now. The Zella's my new home, captain."

Relief flooded over Jack's face, something he was brief to show. A smirk suddenly found its way back to his lips. "Bad girl."

Rapunzel smiled against his lips, warmth swelling inside of her. "Forgive me, sweet, sweet, Jack."

"Aye!" Merida yelled from somewhere off to their left. She and Hiccup had just arrived. "Got a magic flower to find, eh?"

Hiccup chimed in, "Nicholas mentioned it was somewhere by—"

"I know where it is," Rapunzel interrupted, joining up with the others. She looked at them almost guiltily. "I might have done some of my own research after Nick clued us in. If I read the riddles right, it's on top of a hill just out of town. Oh no!" Rapunzel patted at her dress. "I drew a map of how I remembered the island! I was so excited, I must've forgot it on the ship, but that's alright," she was quick to add, grinning at Jack. "We can grab one in town—it'll be much more accurate, and we can visit my family on the way!"

"Sounds like a plan, Zel," Merida agreed, happily.

"If they're as sweet as you, we should invite them on the crew," Hiccup added, only to earn an elbow to the gut from Merida.

They all laughed, save from Jack. "I'm not going," he told them.

"Oh, but they'd love you!" Rapunzel insisted. She was quick to give up her attempts at convincing, however. She knew could do it, he'd crack in a few minutes time, but the trick in gaining a silver tongue was to know when not to push. Jack never wanted to go back home in the first place. Something must have happened in town—something he didn't want to remember. He could meet her family another time, then. "We'll meet back here in half an hour," she told Jack once they'd reached the main bridge.

"Make it an hour," Jack said, but Rapunzel shook her head, keeping it at half. If she spent too much time with the family, she might forget how strongly she loved being at sea.

She might want to stay.

Rapunzel pressed a kiss onto Jack's cheek in goodbye. Then, she followed an ecstatic Merida and Hiccup down the bridge.

Corona was just as beautiful as she remembered, with his big, brick building, and sunny flag. She'd been caught after wandering too far on the outskirts when she was but a seven year old girl. She'd spent another seven in the grips of white slavery, where dirty men used her in ways no child or adult should ever be used. When Jack had stopped by Gothelitch in search for the islands solid gold tooth box, he'd had a run-in with the head of operation, Sir Black. Merida had been the one to spot her first, and she'd convinced Jack to unleash the crew of the Nameless to free our group of imprisoned girls. They'd succeeded, to her surprise, despite them only having been in the pirate business for barely over a year—he'd started when he was but fourteen, Rapunzel's age at the time.

If she hadn't been so curious, she never would have left Corona. She never would of met Jack, or Merida, or Hiccup, or even the rest of the crew. She was grateful for everything that had happened to her, in a way, but she still had nightmares of her time in Gothelitch. The town itself was lovely, but it had been tainted by her reason for being there.

Hiccup located a map easily. Finding Rapunzel's parents had been harder but, with a lot of asking around, they finally found themselves before an old brick home. Her parents looked the same as she pictured, but little Poppilia was almost her height. She was seventeen now, almost a grown woman, just like Rapunzel. It hurt her to know she'd missed out on watching her grow up, on creating memories only a big sister could give her. Still, her sadness gave way to relief at knowing they were still safe and okay.

"Where have you been?" Her mother asked after many hellos.

Rapunzel briefly explained what had happened to her, sparing them of the awful detail. Only she would bare that burden. "I've been sailing on the Zella since," she concluded. But instead of pure joy at her safety, her family looked fearsome.

"Doesn't Captain Jack own that ship?" Poppy asked, worry etched on her brow.

"Yes," Rapunzel smiled. "He's the most wonderful man."

Her father turned to her mother. "He was an Overland, wasn't he? Left at thirteen. I remember him."

"Oh, Punzel!" Her mother sighed, taking her shoulders. "Stay with us! Please, it's so good to have you back. We'll protect you from that man." Her green eyes flicked to Merida and Hiccup, standing a few paces behind Rapunzel. "Your friends too, they're absolutely free to stay."

Rapunzel's brows formed a neat V as she pushed one of her mother's hands free of her shoulder. "I can't stay," she told them, expecting sadness, instead of the worry they all suddenly wore in their eyes. "But I'll visit. I promise."

She made to move away when her father suddenly reached for her wrist. "Sweetheart, please! Don't go back to that devil! He'll flay you, just like he did his family!"

Rapunzel stilled. She saw her friends do the same as well—except they weren't watching her father.

They were watching her.

"What?" Rapunzel asked her father.

"The boy murdered his entire family, an older sister and two younger brothers. Then the coward had the sense to run away and get himself into that pirate business. No one's dared chase after him, not after everything he's done."

Rapunzel's head spun wildly, a headache blooming at her temple. When she turned to Merida and Hiccup, she found them completely unsurprised by the news she just been given. It was true, then. Jack had killed his own family. That explained why he ran away—why he didn't want to come back.

Rapunzel ripped her wrist out of her father's grip. There was an explanation, there had to be! Jack wasn't a monster. But why hadn't he told her what he did? Why hadn't he...?

She stormed out of Corona, ignoring her family's pleading calls. Merida and Hiccup said nothing, but she was pleased to hear they were struggling to follow her quick pace.

"Explain!" She yelled at Jack when she found him hanging by the bridge. Tears already stained her cheeks, but she didn't attempt to wipe them away. She could see it on his face, then, the horrified realization that she knows. Rapunzel knew what he'd been trying so hard to hide from her.

"I..." he started, but failed to continue.

"Your own family!" Her yells were drawing attention from the townsfolk, but she couldn't stop, couldn't stop it with the utter pain radiating through her.

"Not to interrupt," Hiccup hesitantly started, "But can we talk about this while—"

"It's there!" Rapunzel jammed her finger over a spot his open map. "Go find your damn flower!"

Red tainted Hiccup's cheeks, sending a rush of guilt swishing through her stomach. He and Merida rushed off without another word. She'd apologize to them after—they'd done nothing wrong. This had been Jack's secret to share, and he'd failed to do so. "Why?"

His blue eyes flashed. He glanced around them quickly. Then, he took her elbow and led her behind a nearby stand. She should have felt afraid, but he was so familiar. She'd trusted him far too much, and now her body couldn't even be afraid of him.

"It was... It wasn't me," he explained. "I mean, it was, but it wasn't. Not really."

Rapunzel lip quivered. "You're not making much sense."

Jack let go of her elbow and turned away from her. He rubbed a hand through his hair, pulling. Finally, they dropped tiredly to his sides. "It happened after the curse," he whispered. "I stole from the wrong lady. She was talking gibberish to me, saying how she was gonna curse me and all that. Thought she was just rattling out stuff that she knew would scare a normal kid." He shook his head, deep in memory. "I ran back home. Went to sleep thinking my brothers would have the laughs of their lives after I told them about what happened tomorrow." His shoulders shook, but Rapunzel couldn't hear him crying. "I woke up in the middle of the night. All I remember is sitting in the backyard, looking at—at their bodies, all—"

Rapunzel's hand betrayed her. She placed it over his shoulder in comfort, and he turned his face toward her in reflex. They were tear-filled; he had been crying after all. "You don't have to—"

"I flayed them alive. Probably did more, too, seeing how frostbitten they looked. I don't remember anything other than sitting in the yard looking at them. And then running for the fastest boat off land. I knew even then that nothing I could do would bring em' back."

Rapunzel could feel her heart wrenching, twisting harshly at the memory. How horrible must it have been to live with such a sight engrained in your mind? And she'd thought she'd experienced scarring things.

Frostbitten. It explained why he'd refused to use his powers during her first years on board. It took three entire years for them to become close friends, for Rapunzel to develop a crush she hadn't known he returned until that evening in the ship's stores when they'd gotten closer than usual. "Can I kiss you?" He'd asked, face only inches from hers. He had her pressed against the wall as soon as she'd whispered, "Yes." But the flashes of her past still haunted her, then. More than they did now that she knew she was safe. It had taken her long to let him share more than simple kisses in the shadows with her.

It had taken him just as long to give in to Rapunzel's constant encouragement for him to make use of his powers.

"Did you ever try pursuing the witch?" She asked him. "Maybe she would have known how to reverse it."

Jack bobbed his head up and down. "She was Black's mistress in Gothelitch."

Betrayal bloomed inside Rapunzel like a poisoned flower. "That's why you came to the island. To the house. To get your revenge on the Great Dame. You weren't planning on saving us at all, were you?"

Jack looked away, and Rapunzel slid her hand off of him. "Please," he begged, suddenly, looking back at her with widened eyes. His hand had quickly found its way to the crook of her elbow. "The crew really did want to get you girls out of there after we made it. I did. You know I would never lie to anyone on board, especially not you."

Rapunzel closed her eyes as his palm reached her jaw. He pet a thumb against her cheek, sending sparks running through her skin with every stroke. "I wouldn't of hated you if you'd told me," she whispered. "I could never hate you."

"You should," he whispered back. "You really should."

"Jack," Rapunzel opened her eyes. "It wasn't your fault. What you did. Your heart's as good as the Gods above, it was the curse that—"

"There he is!"

Rapunzel twisted fast toward the street, where Poppy stood pointing with a guard at her side. Fear shot through her heart—Jack was not welcome on this island, that much was clear to her now. "Run!" He pulled him away with her, just as a gunshot sounded. Its smell soured the air around them as they ran to shore, fast as their legs could take them. More gunshots came as they found their way to their boat and started rowing. Rapunzel watched as they pulled Merida and Hiccup's boat off shore—they'd have to come find them later.

Then, one last gunshot fired, and it had its eye on Jack's back. He lurched forward as Rapunzel cried out. "Hold it!" She told him, taking charge of the rowing. Her arms were already starting to burn from the pull, but she was glad to see Jack finally do what he was told. "Rip my skirts," she added.

Despite his situation, Jack still managed to smirk. "I don't think now's the time for that, princess."

"Rip my skirts," she said again. "Use it to cover the wound until we get on deck"

"Princess," Jack struggled to hum again in her lap. He was silent for a moment as he tried and failed to move himself upward. "I can't feel my right hand, and my thigh's going numb."

Rapunzel was breathing hard, sweat beading at her brow. She rowed faster. "What?" She said, looking down at him. "You—no. No, you'll be alright." She stopped rowing, suddenly, and helped him into a sitting position at the bottom of the boat, despite his protests. She wasn't strong enough to tear the fabric of her skirts, so she made sure he kept his left sleeve against the open would while she took Jack's previous place and worked all of her energy into rowing. "You'll be alright," she kept telling him.

But the both of them knew he wouldn't be.

"The Golden Flower has healing magic, doesn't it?" Rapunzel asked.

"It'll be too late," Jack answered.

"No," she insisted. "I'll hop on a boat with Vladimir as soon as we get back. We'll tie a second one with us and carry it along for Merida and—"

"No, Zella." Jack's voice was stern, decisive. It left no room for argument. "We're going back for them, just not now. They're smart enough to hold out on their own."

"Jack," Rapunzel's voice was weak, broken. The bullet had hit his spinal cord. He was being forced to succumb to paralysis, something she couldn't imagine would ever be easy for Jack to bare, considering how active he always was. He'd realized it, too, she knew. How horrible must he be feeling, knowing his fate? And after everything he'd gone through.

It wasn't fair.

Nothing was fair.

Rapunzel cried out for the crew as soon as they were close enough to the Zella. Nothing was fair, that was true, but from now on, she vowed, she would make sure to make that very saying as untrue as she could.

#JackunzelFS20 #pirate au #jackunzel #jack frost #rapunzel #merida #hiccup haddock #the big four #rotbtd #wattpad fanfic #jackunzel week #jackunzel prompt #jack frost x rapunzel

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scav-eng-er · 5 years ago

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“If Nothing Else, We Have This.” TROS Alternate Ending 4/?

GUYS IM ALIVE. Coronavirus hasn’t gotten me holy shit this is so overdue and i apologize but this quarantine sucks and i had major writers block with the dialogue so i hope you guys like this and I WILL FINISH THIS STORY.

OH! i also made an AO3 account so you guys can go there if its easier! Thank you!

To all my beans because you’re the only ones who keep me sane @reylo-trash-4ever @mojona1999 @kommissrawr @redheadonaflolol

💙❤️

“What the hell was all that?!” Poe raised his voice as the trio entered the empty hanger. The footsteps echoed in the metallic room, the distant sounds of leftover victories could faintly be heard in Rey’s ears. However, her attention was on a more pressing matter…an angry pilot.

“Poe, I kno-“

“When did all this happen? I-I mean were you ever going to tell us?!”

“I was abo-“

“Do you know how much information you held? Kriff, Rey we could’ve ended this war months ago! This is ridiculous! Why do you defend him? Kylo Ren! The supreme leader?! Rey, do you know what he’s done!?”

She knew. She could feel it whenever he felt shame or guilt. That was the problem with being a dyad in the force, she guessed. She could feel whatever he felt, especially in times of self doubt. He knew the horrors he caused, the fights, the killing. Rey was afraid what it would do to him in future, not just in the eyes of the galaxy, but behind his own. Night terrors and nightmares were something she knew all too well. The screams in her pillow or her sobs, echoed in the darkness of her AT-AT. And if anyone could understand how those felt, it was Ben. And that was why she was afraid of what would happen if he was left alone. Rey wanted to be by his side if he ever needed her, to hold him with warm, comforting arms. Just the two of them.

“What if he’s leading a secret fleet here right now? He could’ve planned this all from the beginning!”

“Poe, he would never-”

“Oh, so have you two chit chatted about all this? Just gossiped about each other’s secrets and jeopardizing our entire cause for a good time?”

Rey’s cheeks reddened, embarrassment and anger swelling inside her. Poe wouldn’t let her speak, and he was scolding her like a child, “No! Why would I-“

“You tell me!” He was face to face with Rey and she noticed the droplets of sweat beading around his forehead and down his neck. He was exhausted from practically carrying the whole resistance on his shoulders. She saw how outgoing, confident and brave he was, but deep down, Rey felt sorry for Poe. He was just as scared as everyone else.

If she could just get a word in..

“What have you told him? What makes you think you can even trust him?”

She couldn’t look him in the eye, the anger about to burst. He was getting on her nerves and his disrespect towards Ben had Rey clenching her fists.

“I mean he’s…he’s a monster!”

“ENOUGH!” Rey shouted. A vibration ricocheted off the metal hanging, the wires attached whipped suddenly. Poe did not flinch, but understood that his friend was serious. The hanger was once again silent, a comfortable but tense heaviness was in the room.

Finn felt it. Rey wasn’t stupid, far from it. He knew just how important the resistance was to her. But he also knew how much she craved connection, a family, belonging. He had felt it too when he ran from the First Order. He found a family in Rey, Poe, Rose, Leia, even Chewie. The resistance was his home. But something else was hers.

Rey’s gaze focused on the makeshift monitor she graced her fingers over. She played around the buttons and lights, feeling their eyes burning on her.

“That feeling you were telling us…?” Finn mumbled.

“I didn’t want to believe it either,” she started, “I knew he was a monster, or at least I thought he was. Can you imagine..? The one person everyone around you is talking about, a murderer, a dictator, a leader and servant to the dark side. The one person you are attached to since before you’re born.”

Rey saw from the corner of her eyes Poe and Finn glance at each other. Poe couldn’t help but give an aggravating and tired sigh.

She continued, walking around the main control center, “I felt it not long after our fight on Starkiller, like a shiver up my spine or vibration in my ear. But even so, he had multiple chances to kill me, and I him. So why didn’t we?”

Her friends leaned in, catching on to the importance that this “connection” she had with the Supreme Leader was.

She sighed, “A dyad. Bound souls in the Force. Two that are one..what he feels, I feel. What he senses, I sense. What he is, I am.”

Rey had to stop, her mind reeling at the words coming out of her mouth. She reminded herself Ben was here, he was alive. His heart beat somewhere in the cells and that was enough to make her smile. Poe and Finn saw it too.

“So..you two are like..kindred spirits? Soulmates?” Finn questioned.

Rey could feel her cheeks redden by the word.

Ben Solo. The son of Leia and Han, nephew to Luke. All these connections she had to his family, even before she met him, had to mean something. And still, destiny decided to make the two into one. From birth they were to be connected. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be romantically, but Rey and Ben were too far gone. They both knew that soon after their first encounter, there was something that burst open after struggling to break free for so long. She remembered how brooding and frightening he was. But when she reached into his mind, still bound in the interrogation room, Rey sensed his fear, his unraveling. His humanity. That was what she fell in love with. The man under the mask. The man behind Kylo Ren. Ben Solo.

“Yes. I suppose we are.” She said to no one. Speaking the words out loud, she wished they could travel through the corridors and into the cells, giving Ben a clear indication of how much she cared for him.

Remembering the discussion at hand, Rey pulled her attention to the boys. Poe’s hands leaned on the control center across from her. The sunset peaked through the canopy and wires of the hanger, criss crossing over the trios faces. Finn stood behind him, arms crossed and against another control boards, dusty and in need of repair.

Rey couldn’t make out the looks on their faces.

Poe gave huff of a laugh, too exhausted to express more emotion.

Finn looked back at Rey, with what looked like hope in his eyes.

The pilot turned, scratching his head, continuously sighing while he thought long and hard.

Rey didn’t realize how nervous she was, the palms of her hands sweating. Her arms felt heavy and she couldn’t move from her spot. Blood pumped in her eardrums, the only sound breaking the silence was now the distant cries of wild animals.

Please, Poe.

He eventually turned back and looked her in the eye.

“He has to be punished.”

~~~

“Why do you have that?” Ben nodded at the gleaming key in the young woman’s hands. She fiddled with it, hesitant to do anything.

Rose could feel her mind pulling her in different directions. She wanted to hand it over, toss it to him and run, or just throw the key into the forest and forget she was ever there. Rose knew the trio would be too preoccupied to notice her gone.

“You know why.” She spoke. Her voice was deeper than he thought. She was very short, Ben could obviously see that, but her determination made up for her stature. This woman held the key to his escape, his freedom, but he saw hate growing in her eyes.

She’s been affected by this war, just like everyone else. Ben thought. He was the cause of it, of course. Maybe he killed her family, or interrogated her lover. Then why does she want to let him out?

With a click of his tongue, Ben shifted in his spot, the restraints on his wrists rubbed a little rough.

“I can’t let you do that..”

“You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t do.” Hate dripped from her lips, she couldn’t stand still.

Ben’s brows furrowed. Here was this strange woman, much shorter than Rey, he could see. A woman who probably hated him just as much as he used to hate himself. She still had the look of battle on her, face caked in dirt and hair wild and untamed. Rey and him had returned and were thrust into the aftermath so quickly, it was unlikely anyone had time to clean themselves up. It was more likely everyone was too interested talking about the defeated Supreme Leader Kylo Ren and his unfortunate consequence. Years of war because of Palpatine, Snoke, and him.

This girl should want him dead, so why is she putting the key in the lock?!

The echo of the key placed in the lock bellowed down the hall. Ben stood, alert and confused, his hands still bound.

“Wait wait wait, kid! Stop, what are you doing?” He hurried to the bars, towering over Rose. Her hand was on the key, ready to turn and free Ben from his cell and restraints. She did not flinch or cower away.

She looked up at him, neck craned, her eyes held fury. Sunset from the entrance peered down the cells, and floating specks of dust could be seen between them. Up close, Ben noticed streaks of dirt and sweat on her. The knuckles of her hands were white as her grip tightened on the key.

“Back in the clearing,” she started, “we were all ready to see the Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren die. It should’ve warmed my heart to see you dragged away in chains. But then I saw something, in Rey.”

Ben’s heart leapt at hearing her name, and he visibly relaxed.

“I don’t know what it was, but it almost scared me. It wasn’t Rey, or..or maybe it was and we just never saw that side of her.” Rose began to ramble, Ben hanging on to every word.

“She was…passionate. Determined. Just so she could get to you…” While Ben stared down at her, they both knew she was on top of it all.

Rose had to turn her head, lips quivering and eyes welling up with tears, “it reminded me of my sister.”

The ache that came from Ben’s chest was enough make him physically wince. The pain of his actions that was inflicted on others, was now coming back for him.

“Just about everyone I know was about to give up, to end it all. But I knew she would fight until her dying breath. She would fight to protect and inspire those around her, the fire of the resistance only growing bigger and brighter because of her.”

Ben couldn’t tell if she was talking about her sister or Rey, but he smiled sadly, knowing there were so many who believed in the resistance, in his mother, and in Rey.

Rose sighed. “I know what I saw,” she said quietly, as if she was talking to herself.

“What?” Ben finally asked.

“Hope.”

Ben imagined a cave, dark, wet and cold. Outside a storm raged on, winds whipping and thrashing. Animals hidden and sheltered under twigs, branches, and burrows. It is empty in the cave and when you walk, it seems like its a never-ending path of darkness. And just as you’re about to give up, turn around and collapse from exhaustion, you see it. A flicker of light off the wall ahead of you. Every step is starting to get warmer, more inviting.

Ben turns to the source of light and is somewhere else. He is outside, it’s sunny and warm. Its Ahch-To! He is back at the Jedi Temple? He hears distant laughter, children are playing. He follows the sounds over the hill. Ben nearly laughs at the sight of younglings running, other practicing with sticks. Girls and boys of different species scatter the island. They play tag and jump in the water, and he sees Rey watching them, teaching them. She turns to him, and her belly is swollen. She is smiling and happy, and all Ben wants to do is take her hand, outstretched and waiting for him.

“Hey!” A snap from Rose’s fingers woke him.

Her hand still held the key, ready to turn in the lock.

“You ready to go?” She questioned.

His cheeks hurt from grinning, excited for the life that waited for him. Ben couldn’t care if it was 6 months or 10 years away. He felt his heart about to burst. He could finally do something right, and bring peace to the galaxy. He would have Rey for the rest of his life and their family would bring the return of the Jedi, with balance and hope for all.

“I’m ready.”

A turn of the lock and the door opened, his restraints fell off with a loud clunk. He stepped through, rubbing his sore wrists. He gave a small nod to Rose.

“Thank you.” A small hand on his chest halted him.

Her eyes were dark again, “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for Rey.”

Ben nodded again, though more cautious and understanding. He quietly made his way down the hall, until Rose mumbled,

“And for Leia.”

Ben hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he felt himself get dizzy. He stood still, unable to look at Rose.

“Where is my mom?”

#reylo #rey #ben solo #rey x ben solo #tros fix it #tros fanfiction #tros fanfic #tros fanwork #star wars #I AM SO TIRED #THIS IS NOT MY BEST WORK #IM SORRY

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daffietjuh · 5 years ago

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Five times Kyle tried to ask Alex out and failed, and the one time he succeeded

A/N: I blame this entirely on @likebadgal-riri! You put this in my head! I’ve never written Kylex before, but here it is. Here are our lifeboat babies for S2! Our emotional support ship.

Alex had just gotten back into town. Kyle even went to the parade. He wanted to go talk to him, but he chickened out. Alex had looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. It was the same look he’d had on his face when they were kids, and Kyle would coax a secret out of him. The same look, but on a much more deliberately closed-off face. He’d grown up since they were close, that part was obvious, but he’d also become so much harder to read. Kyle hated it.

He wanted to be close to him again. Be able to read his face like he used to. He wanted to be able to read his eyebrow raises and his sighs and the way he’d press his lips together.

But he was scared. He wasn’t like Alex, he wasn’t brave like he was. He was just the kid that turned his back on his best friend. The one that left a guy that already didn’t have much. The one that hit the kid that was already getting beat up enough.

The wave of shame made him feel sick. So he left. He walked away from the parade and headed to the Crashdown. He was going to eat some fries. He’d regret it later, but he didn’t care.

Arturo smiled at him knowingly when Kyle came in, but he didn’t say anything, which Kyle appreciated. He just brought Kyle his fries and left him to eat in peace. When the bell at the door signalled the arrival of a new customer and Kyle saw the wide grin on Arturo’s face, he knew immediately who it was. There was only two people that made Arturo Ortecho smile like that. Liz, who wasn’t in town, and Alex.

‘Alex, my boy.’ Arturo smiled brightly as he came from behind the counter and disappeared out of Kyle’s sightline.

‘Hi mister Ortecho.’ Kyle could hear the tell-tale tapping of Alex’s crutch on the linoleum floor. It made a swoop of dread dip through Kyle’s stomach and his fries suddenly tasted like ash. Alex almost died. He came so close to having to stand at the back of the crowd at Alex’s funeral.

He turned on his seat so he could see him. Almost like his mind demanded a reassurance that Alex was there and breathing.

He hadn’t been prepared for the wave of… something unfamiliar. Alex, despite his clear discomfort, looked great. A little more pale than Kyle remembered him being, but strong. His jawline was still sharp and his cheekbones still looked like those of a supermodel. The scar over his eyebrow was new and there was some colour high on his cheeks and his eyes were still warm and soft. Kyle wanted to stare at him over a candlelit dinner table.

Wait.

What?

Oh. That was new.

Alex’s eyes darted to him, and his smile turned harder and sharper. Anger. He still recognized that emotion.

‘Valenti, you couldn’t stare harder if you tried.’ Alex said and his voice was lower than Kyle remembered it. ‘Careful, people might start to get ideas that you’ve missed me or something.’ It was maybe a little bit of a low blow, not that Kyle didn’t deserve it. He would have said something snarky in reply, but his brain was still hung up on that dinner date he’d thought about for only a split second.

‘Good to have you back, Manes.’ Was what he said. Surprise flickered over Alex’s face for only a second before Arturo swept him away with the promise of fries and a milkshake.

It wasn’t really breaking and entering if your father had owned the place, right?

That was what Kyle told himself at least when he approached the door of his father’s cabin with a block of wood, intending to just… break a window. That was all. He wasn’t expecting the voice behind him.

‘You know, you could just knock. It’s less of a felony, but it’s also less dramatic, so it depends on what you’re going for here.’ He wasn’t sure what his body did, just that he nearly dropped the wood on his foot and whirled around. Alex was there, looking like he hadn’t been sleeping well, crutch tucked under his arm. He looked calm though. Not like this bothered him much, but maybe that was just his poker face. Alex had always wiped the floor with him at poker.

He ended up inside with Alex, and the whole thing came out. His father left Alex this place. His father had seen that Alex needed someone, someplace and he’d given that to him. He’d been there for Alex, after his death. He needed Alex to understand, what his father had thought of him, what Kyle thought of him, now that he wasn’t blinded by teenage bullshit.

‘You’ve got it wrong, you know.’ He said. ‘My dad didn’t leave you that key because he thought you were weak. He would never have thought that about you.’ And neither have I. ‘You’re the bravest person I know.’ He said without giving himself the time to overthink it. The way Alex looked up at him nearly floored him. Those eyes and that soft smile and the tiniest hint of warmth in his face. It was enough for him to want to try and coax that out more. He needed Alex to smile more. He wanted to be the reason for Alex to smile more.

So while they were bantering like they were kids again, “This is the part in the horror movie where the audience starts screaming no don’t do that”, Kyle had to fight his smile and focus on the actual, literal skeletons they may have been about to find.

They didn’t find skeletons, instead Kyle found a half-sister. One that had died ten years ago. He felt like he was on a fucking rollercoaster, and he’d never liked those very much. Alex was watching him closely with concerned eyes as he walked him out and Kyle felt like he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Alex’s concern, his forgiveness, his love. Not that he had any thoughts of Alex still loving him like he’d loved him when they were kids. He had broken that, all by himself. It was on him to fix it.

And he would try, but not today. He’d ask Alex out to get some beers another day, as a friendly thing, with Alex, his friend.

He accepted that he now had a thing for Alex when they ended up working together in the bunker for hours. When he had time to familiarize himself with Alex again. The way he’d tap his fingers on the keyboard, even when he wasn’t typing. The way he’d bite his lip in concentration. How he’d shift his leg every so often, but didn’t acknowledge that he was uncomfortable whatsoever. How the blue lighting of his screens made him look ethereal, otherworldly beautiful. Which was kind of funny because aliens.

He opened with “I know you don’t like me, and that’s cool, but all this is a lot” he nearly said that they could go have dinner. Instead he said they should go have a beer sometimes. Alex sighed, but he didn’t say no. It was a start.

He felt so off balance around Alex, it was almost hard to believe that Alex couldn’t tell. Alex who had eyes like a hawk and saw everything. Maybe that was why he suggested Alex should go talk to Guerin. He didn’t think Guerin was good for Alex, hell, he didn’t think he was good enough for Alex. Not with the way Alex had been looking every time Guerin was so much as mentioned. The guilt and the pain that was written all over Alex made Kyle want to snipe and sneer at him. But he also saw that Alex wasn’t at that point yet. He wasn’t angry, just confused and hurt.

Maybe a talk was exactly what they needed. So Alex could see that all Guerin would ever do was hurt him. He wasn’t even sure what exactly happened between them. All he knew was that the darkness in Alex’s eyes, the forced smile and the painful longing looks were Guerin’s fault.

Guerin, who was, apparently an alien.

So instead of asking Alex out to dinner, Kyle told him to go talk to the man he’d been in love with for ten years. He just wanted Alex to be happier, and if Guerin was necessary for that, he’d push Alex in that direction, but if it turned out he wasn’t the thing that would make Alex smile more? Kyle had other options.

Caufield was a nightmare in so many different ways. Kyle found out his father had been killed by an alien, but also that he’d been a part of what was basically a war crime. The systematic imprisonment and torture of aliens. Kyle felt sick thinking about it.

‘Alex and you, huh?’ Guerin’s question was… slightly jealous? Which was fucking ridiculous. Alex had told him about Guerin sleeping with Maria. To his credit, he’d been exhausted and on his way to tipsy and Kyle had coaxed the story out of him because he’d looked wrecked. Guerin had gone and slept with the best friend of the guy he was supposed to be in love with. That didn’t really spell “love” to Kyle, that took away his right to be jealous as far as Kyle was concerned. Not that there was anything to be jealous off.

Alex’s brother had made Kyle want to throw his oath aside and bash him over the head with a fire extinguisher. The alarm going off was the only thing that stopped Kyle. Alex running further into the building about to blow made Kyle feel sick to his stomach. Would he have done the same for Kyle? Probably, it was just Alex’s nature. Self-sacrificing. He believed that he had something to make up for. Kyle didn’t believe it for a second. What their families had done, was not on them. His father’s crimes were not Alex’s to atone for.

Running away from a building about to blow wasn’t as cool as it seemed in the movies. In fact, it fucking sucked. Alex grit his teeth and Kyle refused to let him fall behind, he would have carried him out of there if he had to. Alex pushed him behind the truck first. The explosion was like a punch directly to Kyle’s heart. The look on Alex’s face was a second hit.

Alex didn’t really talk about war, or what it was like, so when he started talking, Kyle stayed quiet and listened. His hatred for Jesse Manes grew by tenfold. Alex had always had a kind heart. He had been a gentle soul. One that believed in love and that good would prevail, he’d believed in happy endings, and now he was questioning if he was the evil? Kyle hated it. He hated Jesse and he hated anyone else who had ever told Alex he was anything but kind and wonderful, himself included. He’d spend the rest of his life, as long as Alex would have him around, making up for his lapse of judgement in high school. Where he’d thought his reputation was more important than the boy with the soft eyes and the kind heart.

Things just got worse after that. Every time he spend an extended amount of time around Alex, his brain would just start chanting “ask him out, ask him out, ask him out”. As it turned out, it was hard to focus when that happened.

Especially when things went from bad to worse to godawful and Alex ended up on his doorstep at noon, looking like he hadn’t slept in three days with the simple words:

‘He didn’t show.’ Kyle didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. ‘He said he’d come back and we’d talk, and he didn’t show.’

He just pushed the door further open and let Alex in. He looked as close to tears as Kyle had seen him in a long time, and if Guerin had shown up at his front door in that moment, he would have broken his nose. No one should ever make Alex Manes look like that.

‘How long did you wait?’

‘All night.’ Alex’s voice cracked and he followed it up with an annoyed cough. ‘I guess I deserve it. I left so many times, it’s only right he leaves me too.’

‘No.’ Kyle said and Alex turned, he looked almost surprised. ‘No. Don’t say that. You don’t deserve to get hurt Alex. If he cares about you at all, he shouldn’t hurt you like this, no matter what you have or haven’t done. Which, by the way, you didn’t have much of a choice in. You couldn’t have stayed, you would have been court-martialled.’ He could already hear Alex’s next argument coming. ‘And when you were seventeen doesn’t count. You were young and scared and you saw an opportunity to learn how to fight back, that’s not on you, that will never be on you.’

Alex watched him for what felt like hours. His frown slowly disappeared and was replaced by a shaky smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes and he still looked like he was about to keel over from exhaustion, but he didn’t look quite as shattered anymore.

‘You’re a good man, Alex. You deserve to be treated like it.’ He added, just for good measure. He actually could have said something there, it was a good leadup. He’d treat Alex right. He knew Alex was a good man. He wasn’t going to sleep with his best friend (…..anymore). He’d take him on dates and hold his hand and love him and treat him like he deserved to be treated. But now wasn’t the right time. He knew that. So he just offered Alex a beer and kicked the voice in his head to the curb, now was not the right time.

It had been months. The “relationship” between Maria and Guerin had fizzled out. Kyle was unsurprised. It was based on lies and at the cost of someone they both claimed to love. Maria found out about the alien thing. Kyle had seen them around each other, and they tried, he had to give them that, they tried to make it work. But it was clear that there wasn’t much there beyond liquor and trauma fuelled hook-ups. Guerin’s heart wasn’t in it, and Maria’s heart was broken. One half longing for a man she knew would never love her like he was supposed to, and the other half longing for a broken friendship, one maybe broken beyond repair.

And Kyle? Kyle put all his time and effort not spend trying to resurrect Max or get to know Rosa into helping Alex figure out who he was without the Air Force and without Guerin.

It was amazing. Hearing Alex laugh, warm and free at one of Kyle’s silly jokes. Watching him listen to old albums with Rosa. Watching as he taught Isobel how to defend herself, his proud expression when she kicked a dummy so hard it fell over. Seeing how he systematically dismantled project Shepard. How he used his powers for good, to take down evil, how he proved his father had created his own downfall. He’d treated Alex like shit, for years, he should have been broken or angry at the world, instead he made it a better place. He proved he was stronger than his father, stronger than Kyle, stronger than Guerin. He refused to give up. He took care of Liz as she worked herself nearly to death, he let Isobel cry on his shoulder and faced a screaming Guerin without flinching.

‘Why won’t you let it go!? He’s dead. Gone! Stop trying Alex, just leave it alone! You’re good at leaving, we both know that.’

Alex stopped Kyle from breaking Michael’s nose with a simple gesture and a soft “no”.

‘He’s hurt and terrified and he misses his brother. It’s okay.’

‘No it’s not.’ Kyle said, still seething. ‘Get out Guerin. Don’t come back unless you’re ready to apologize to Alex.’ Guerin had tears in his eyes when he stomped towards the ladder and climbed out of the bunker. Kyle couldn’t find much sympathy for him, especially not when Alex sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He was upset. He hadn’t shown it in front of Guerin, but he was upset. He was letting Kyle see it.

‘Let’s go for dinner.’ Alex looked at him, question in his eyes. ‘You and me, let’s go have dinner.’

‘Like a date?’ Alex asked, his face wasn’t as unreadable to Kyle anymore, but he still couldn’t quite tell what Alex was thinking in that moment.

‘Yeah, like a date.’

‘If you’re just doing this because you feel bad for me-‘

‘No. That’s not what this is at all.’ Kyle said firmly. ‘I wanted to ask you out when I saw you on the day of the parade.’ Alex blinked at him, soft smile spreading over his face.

‘That long, huh?’ Kyle shrugged.

‘You weren’t ready, there was other things going on. So I waited.’ He simply said.

‘You waited for me.’ Alex said like he couldn’t quite believe it, so Kyle stepped closer to him and took his hand.

‘Yeah.’ He said, squeezing Alex’s hand as a reassurance he was here and he was real.

‘Why?’

‘Because you’re worth the wait.’ Kyle had hoped for a fond smile and maybe some kisses, instead he got a solid punch to the chest and a Alex-Manes-special-eyeroll.

‘You’re an idiot.’

‘But I’m your-‘ Alex cut him off with a kiss and that might have been exactly what Kyle had been going for.

#kylex #kylex fic #sometimes i write things #IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT THAT THIS EXISTS #I DON'T REALLY CARE THOUGH #because i kind of love it

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marril96 · 5 years ago

Text

Tonight

Chapter 2: The Haunting Yes

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Characters: Rowena, reader, Sam, Dean

Summary: It was supposed to be a happy, carefree outing. After tonight, however, nothing will ever be the same for you and Rowena.

Editor: @rowenaisfabulous

NOW…

The house was cold.

Even though it was summer and the night was as warm as a spring morning, the house still felt cold. As if there were ghosts lingering the hallway, haunting the dark rooms.

The hairs on Rowena's arms stood up, sharp and straight as needles. Chills cascaded down her spine, spread over to her neck and then the rest of her body, an invisible veil of frost clinging to her skin, burrowing underneath it, sinking into her bones.

She let Sam carry you to the bedroom, following after him like a puppy. She watched as he lowered you on the bed and hurried to the other side to ruffle the pillow and straighten the sheet underneath you. To make you as comfortable as she could.

She owed you that much.

"She doesn't look hurt too bad," Dean commented as he looked you over intently, scanning every detail of you with utmost precision.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. Locking eyes with Rowena, he said for what must have been the hundredth time since he first saw you, "She's gonna be okay."

Rowena gave a nod and accompanied it with a smile. Forced, but genuine. "Thank you."

She appreciated their help. Immensely so. It had taken them a while, but they came when she'd called. They wanted to help. They didn't make assumptions, didn't throw around accusations. They genuinely wanted to help.

Gone were their days of animosity.

"Of course," Sam said, returning the smile.

Dean responded with a nod.

True to their word, the brothers helped. They worked on your injuries with the same professionalism they showcased while hunting. A few cuts and bruises were rather easy to take care of. Even still, the two of them took it in stride, worked meticulously, carefully, precisely.

Rowena stood aside and watched them. Watched you, unconscious, unresponsive, clueless of the world around you. For how much longer, she wondered? You were bound to wake up anytime now.

Would you be scared? Hurt? Angry? All of the above?

Rowena would be. She had the presence of mind to admit it, to herself at the very least. She would be terrified, out of her mind with panic. Her body would throb, but her soul would ache with the pain she didn't even dare imagine. She would hate it, and herself, and the people that did it to her. But no matter how hard she concentrated on other emotions, the pain would still crush her, cripple her, destroy her from the inside out.

Unlike you, though, she would be the one to blame.

She was the one to blame.

If she hadn't said yes…

Her heart flared, every beat a new flash of pain. As if shards of glass had embedded into it and dug deeper, pulled at the sensitive nerves as it pounded. Her eyes prickled with tears. These she held back; she was sick of crying, sick of being weak, of falling apart over and over like a broken, worn out doll.

As soon as Sam and Dean were finished with your injuries, Rowena pulled a sheet over you. Just in case you were as cold as she was when you woke. Then she ushered the brothers out and, as they awkwardly paced around before settling down on the couch in the living room, poured herself a glass of water and took a long, big swig.

The cool liquid burned at her throat as she swallowed. She relished in the feeling, held on to it, allowed it to ground her. She hadn't had a drink in hours. Her dry, scratchy throat begged for more, and she gave in to it, then refilled the glass and downed the entirety of its contents in one swig.

Strangely, she wasn't as cold anymore. She felt more like herself, if only a tad. More comfortable in her own body. More alive.

Filling up the glass once more, she grabbed it and, with shaky hands, carried it over to the coffee table. She took a seat on the sofa opposite the Winchester brothers. She could have used a cup of tea, but she was in no condition to make it. She was in no condition to do anything other than sit and stare into empty space until you woke up.

Then she would swallow her pride and do something she rarely, if ever, did — she would apologize. She would own up to her mistakes and apologize. If need be, she would fall to her knees in front of you. Anything to make what happened — what she allowed to happen — at least somewhat right.

"Rowena?" Sam said, breaking the silence that had settled over them.

Rowena perked up, looked right at him. "Yes, Samuel?"

"Can you…" He cleared his throat. Sucked in a breath. "Can you tell us what happened?"

Could she?

She knew she should. She owed them an explanation. But…

"No offense, but we found you surrounded by dead bodies," Dean said as tactfully as he could. Rowena could tell he was trying his hardest. "We don't wanna draw conclusions." Sam gave a nod at that. "But you gotta give us something."

She supposed she did.

If she were to walk in on them in a sea of corpses, she would have had questions, too. And just as many opinions, the majority not very flattering.

She sighed.

"It was my fault."

With that she started her story.

*****

EARLIER…

"So," you said that hot, humid afternoon, and Rowena knew right away you wanted something. It was your go-to sentence starter for when you needed favors.

"What do you want?" she asked in a cautious, suspicious tone. You had a tendency to ask for quite ridiculous things. 'I can't do that,' she was preparing to answer. One of her usual responses to your demands, along with 'I will not sacrifice a virgin for your nonsense' and 'The internet lied to you.'

This time, however, what you wanted wasn't of magical nature.

And, instead of a demand, it was more of an offer.

"There's this nightclub," you said, a touch uncertain. Testing the waters.

Rowena cocked up an eyebrow, curious. "Okay?"

"It's called Illuminae," you continued in the same tone. As if you were expecting to be interrupted at any moment, to be told you were annoying and to stop wasting her time. "It's just outside of town, maybe a fifteen minute drive. It's apparently supernatural-only. I was thinking maybe we could check it out tonight?"

Rowena stared.

You blinked innocently.

She kept staring.

You responded with an awkward smile.

A nightclub? You wanted to go to a nightclub? A supernatural one at that?

Who were you and what had you done with her Y/N?

"You want to go to a nightclub?" Rowena echoed her thoughts aloud, her face the picture of confusion, of sheer bafflement. You barely wanted to go to a restaurant. Sometimes she had to promise you sex in order to get you out of the house. What in hell was going on?

You blushed. Shuffled your feet nervously. "I just wanna see what it's like."

She shot you a look that said, loud and clear, try harder.

You sighed. Your eyes traveled downwards, to your naked feet on the floor. Stuck to your toenails like glue. A deafening, suffocating silence settled over the room for a few moments before you dared yourself to break it.

"You haven't been well lately. I know you've been having nightmares. I woke up to you crying a few times, but I pretended to be asleep. I knew you didn't want me to pry, so I didn't. And yesterday — you had a flashback, didn't you? You didn't say anything, but your face… I knew that look. Lana — that witch I've been chatting with online — mentioned Illuminae, so I thought we could check it out. Get your mind off things, y'know?"

Rowena was flabbergasted.

You'd noticed she was in distress. Noticed the change in her, in her body language. You'd noticed and you didn't say a word for you respected her privacy so much.

She could cry.

She wanted to, but she willed the tears back, forced her face to remain neutral, as blank as possible.

She'd tried so hard to keep everything she'd been going through a secret. She knew how worried you got when she wasn't well, so she kept it to herself. Hid it to the best of her ability.

She should have anticipated this. You were always good at reading her, at figuring out how she ticked. Nothing that concerned her went past you. You knew her like no one else did — like no one else had ever tried to know her. You cared about her with your entire heart and mind and soul. You loved her.

How could you not have noticed?

"Never mind. It's stupid," you said after a few moments of silence.

"No," Rowena said. Her voice sounded strange, more like that of a stranger than her own. As if someone had possessed her body and was speaking through her, for her. "It's not stupid."

She reached for your hand. You let her take it, and she squeezed it with both of hers as if holding on for dear life.

"I think it's a marvelous idea."

You perked up. "Really?"

Rowena grinned, big and bright. Happy. "Aye."

"We don't have to go. It was just a suggestion. I'm not trying to pressure you or anything."

"I know, dearest. I want to go."

It was a great opportunity.

You were right — it would take her mind off her problems, at least for a short while.

Most important of all: you thought of it. You suggested it for her benefit. Even though you hated going out, especially to places crowded with people, you wanted to go out for her. Because you cared. Because you loved her and wanted to cheer her up.

How could she say no to that?

You flashed your brightest smile, face lit up with joy. "It's a deal, then!"

"It is," Rowena confirmed. "What have I done to deserve you?"

"You're you," you replied with a shrug.

Laughing, she pressed her mouth to yours. Sealed the deal with a long, heated kiss.

It was going to be an amazing night.

*****

NOW…

"I should have said no," Rowena said.

"You couldn't have known what was gonna happen," Sam said softly.

Maybe so. But she'd still said yes. She'd agreed to go, anticipated it even.

She was a bloody idiot!

She sucked in a breath. Swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat, thick and heavy. Dug her dirty nails into her thighs.

"I need a shower," she announced, more to herself than to the brothers.

The two of them exchanged a look.

"Uh, sure," Sam said, uncertain how to respond.

"You do that," Dean agreed.

Without another word, she got up and left for the bathroom. She would tell them what happened later. Now, she had to clear her head a bit. Get this filth off her. Clean her body, at the very least, if she couldn't do the same for her guilty conscience.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @dropsofpetrichor @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @wayward-kaia @angel7376 @rowenaisfabulous @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @melisandre02 @a-queen-and-her-throne

#rowena #rowena macleod #rowena x reader #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn family #my fics #fanfiction

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worddevdealswithml · 5 years ago

Text

Side Effects Include: Empathy

Chapter 20:

Marinette pushed to her feet.

The carousel had stopped. Broken, presumably, by whatever had just happened.

The park… It seemed wrong, stretched in ways that she couldn’t quite parse.

She staggered, trying to process what she was seeing.

“Adrien,” she said, turning, but-

Adrien was almost 20 feet away, standing by the blanket.

Except, she hadn’t moved, and the blanket… wasn’t by her.

She shook her head, scrunching her eyes, in the vague hope that whatever it would dispel whatever was going on.

Adrien was ten feet away, and he turned, as if only now hearing what she’d said.

“Marinette? This has to be an akuma, right?”

“I… I don’t know what else it could be.”

He looked down at the blanket, which was beside her. “I guess we’ll just have to hope nobody steals it.”

Right. She needed to get moving, get transformed.

“I suppose so,” she said, “do you know where that wave came… from…” The words died on her lips as she saw the school in the distance.

The school was glowing strangely, practically a beacon of light in comparison to the world around, which, despite the sun’s light shining down half-blindingly, was all in warm, muted colors.

“I wonder who it is,” she muttered.

Chloe Bourgeois, frankly, hadn’t seen this coming.

Sabrina had been acting weird, but Chloe, had she thought about it, would have put it down to having almost been late to school. Except, of course, that didn’t explain why she’d been even quieter than usual (which Chloe hadn’t minded) and then went off about how Chloe ‘hadn’t waited for her’ (which she had minded).

Frankly, it was a stupid accusation, since it wasn’t like Chloe hadn’t been sitting at her desk when Sabrina had arrived. What more did she even want? Well, apparently what she wanted was for Chloe to be waiting for her in the locker room, which, was, frankly, ridiculous

Apparently, though, Sabrina had disagreed with Chloe’s assessment, because just as their last class before lunch had ended, she had quickly and quietly slipped away.

Chloe hadn’t thought about it at first, but once she realized she was going to have to track Sabrina down, she came to the logical conclusion that she was probably in the bathroom.

So, already grumbling internally, she’d made for the bathrooms, where…

Well, it wasn’t to say that Sabrina hadn’t been there, but…

She’d stepped out of a stall, looked Chloe in the eye, and then she hadn’t been there.

Chloe had, despite herself, let out a shiver, a wave of wrongness washing over her. She’d made for the door, but when she’d walked through it, she hadn’t been in the locker room.

She’d been…

Been…

She tried to go back.

The door wasn’t there anymore.

They made it to the road, and stopped.

“Why are people still driving?” said Adrien, “don’t they know there’s an attack?”

“I don’t see how they could miss it,” she said, turning to him.

“And even if they missed it, aren’t there more cars now than there were before?”

“I… Yeah, that’s not right,” she said, turning to him.

He spun, looking for some other way across, but, of course, he should have known better than to hope.

“I…”

He took a breath, and tried to ignore the way the colors around him seemed off.

“Surely, there has to be a gap eventually, right?” he managed.

“Yeah… Has to be.

The stared, waiting for something, and-

Before they could find a gap…

They froze in unison as a pair of figures, one red with black spots, and the other pure black, landed on the other side of the street.

“That’s…” he said, and stopped.

“Maybe they can help us get across?” she managed.

“Right,” he said, and sucked in a breath.

“Ladybug! Chat Noir!” he called, but… ��surely he had meant to call louder than that. She looked at him, and he blinked. “Ladybug! Chat Noir!” It was worse this time. “I,” he said, barely audible.

“Chat Noir!” she called, not quite trusting either of them, but trusting Ladybug less, for obvious reasons.

The two… Not them, turned, and looked, halfway up the steps, which shouldn’t have been as long as they were.

They looked at each other, and Ladybug shrugged.

Adrien seemed scared, almost bewildered.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I… I can’t talk,” came an almost inaudible whisper.

“Wh- why?” she managed, but he only had time to shake his head as Chat Noir landed beside them.

“Something wrong, you two?” he asked, and…

He looked like Chat Noir, if she hadn’t seen Chat Noir recently. And sounded… Much the same.

“The… The street’s too full of cars,” she said, “we couldn’t get across.”

“Are you two sure you want to cross that street? It looks like the Akuma’s in that school.”

“…” said Adrien, and then, with an effort as if he was shouting, “so are our friends!”

“Chat Noir, we can’t afford to wait too long!” called ‘Ladybug’ from across the street.

“Right,” he said, “hold on,” and grabbed one of them in each arm, and vaulted.

Marinette’s head spun from the sudden acceleration, but in an instant, they’d landed, safely enough, on the other side.

Chat Noir put them down lightly, and straightened up.

He shouldn’t have been quite that tall.

“Alright,” he said, “If you’re really going in there, stay careful, okay? Ladybug and I are going to take the fight to this Akuma.”

“Wait!” called Adrien, but only Marinette heard him, as, in an instant, the two were up and away.

They stood there.

“Well,” she said, “they seemed… wrong.”

“Ladybug didn’t even say anything,” offered Adrien, “I don’t think that’s right.”

“And how did he carry both of us and vault with his baton? He shouldn’t have been able to…”

She stopped.

“What?” said Adrien, looking back with her.

“The street,” she said, simply.

It was empty.

No cars.

“Okay,” she said, shaking her head, “You can’t talk, Chat Noir can carry too many people at once, and he’s too tall. The cars vanish when we’ve made it past them, for no obvious reason.”

“It’s a dream.”

“I think so,” she agreed. “I think the sooner we can get people out, the better.”

“Something’s keeping them there?”

“Must be.”

“Well… The Akuma’s in there somewhere, and…” The smart choice was to find some way to split up so she could transform.

That was the smart choice… theoretically.

Except, that would leave Adrien alone for too long.

She’d figure it out.

She had to.

“Ready?” she said.

He took a breath, and… nodded.

“Let’s go.”

They pushed through the door.

Chloe’s parents were barely even married at this point. More to the point, even when they were together, they rarely seemed to think about her, which was what made it so strange…

Her mother scoffed, tossing her hair disdainfully.

“And there she is again, back, and sticking out like a sore thumb.”

For a second, Chloe didn’t even register that it was meant for her to hear, that it was about her.

“Ridiculous, isn’t she?”

“Ah, well—” her father managed, before he was cut off.

“Still wearing fashions that went out of style months ago, and doubtless still hanging around with the lower class.”

Confidence. Raw confidence was the only way to not get trampled.

“How else would they be able to appreciate me?”

“And what exactly is there to appreciate?”

The rhetorical way she’d asked it, and the ease with which she’d conjured the response, felt like a bit of Chloe’s soul draining away.

She didn’t notice the way the lights flared slightly as her head drooped.

She… She had to answer.

If the door went where it was supposed to, they should have been in the courtyard, but… this wasn’t the courtyard.

“Where… Where are we?”

Adrien shook his head, and just, shrugged.

The room seemed sterile, all white and grey, and, more to the point, massive, maybe 50 feet to the other wall, and far more above and below. They were standing on a ledge set into a wall, and it wasn’t the only such ledge; there were more, above, below, around. Thick slabs of the same white material were floating in the air, seemingly unsupported.

The only color was, maybe a hundred feet below them, the floor, which was a deep purple.

“I don’t remember this last time we were here,” said Adrien, almost inaudible.

She laughed, a bit nervously.

“Yeah. And… Is it just me, or is it a bit easier to see in here?”

“More effort?”

“Maybe.”

“Well… Lead the way, Marinette?”

“I don’t know, do we need to get to the…” she stared.

“That… That floor was further away earlier wasn’t it?”

It seemed closer, and as they looked, they spotted something they’d missed, earlier.

“Who is that?”

“Has to be… Max? He usually wears green, right?” She looked around. “And this looks like it might be his… His dream? Or… Nightmare. Something.”

Adrien nodded, and, with a finger, traced the path he’d be following.

Assuming he didn’t take any of the dangerous side-paths, he’d end up right across from them.

Which just meant they’d have to take a few… questionable jumps.

“Well?”

He shrugged, and hopped the first short gap.

He looked back, and she followed him.

One jump, two jumps, and…

They stood, looking at the one jump that had given them both pause.

Marinette looked back.

She was clumsy, and Adrien didn’t have the strength she did. Either of them would be in danger if they tried this jump.

“We could go up the normal way? Maybe meet him later?”

Adrien looked up, and she matched him.

Whenever the paths crossed again… She didn’t know. They might not get another chance like this for quite some time.

Time they didn’t have.

He shook his head, and took a step back.

He was going to jump, and-

The image of him falling short, plummeting to whatever fate awaited him below, hit her mind,

For a second, the surreality of Adrien about to risk his life froze her, but then, even as he was about to get a running start, she snapped out of it, and put a hand on his shoulder.

He stopped.

She shook her head.

“Me first.”

“Ah-“

But she was already jumping.

She made it easily, but slipped, almost tumbling off the other end.

She… Caught herself, and scrambled up to her feet.

She froze, at the look in Adrien’s eyes.

He had a hand reached out to her, and looked… Almost as if she had died.

“Adrien?”

He shook his head, as if to shake off whatever thought it had been, and then nodded.

“Ready?” he mouthed, or, probably, said.

She nodded.

He jumped.

#ML #Miraculous Ladybug #ML Fanfic #Side Effects Include: Empathy #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste

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themoonandotherslikeit · 5 years ago

Text

The Daughter of a Righteous Man -Chapter 8

*SEQUEL TO THE LOOK IN HER EYES*

After her husband is drug to Hell, Ava Winchester and her brother in law Sam try their best to do right by Dean and raise her daughter, only to find that good intentions aren’t always enough. Loving someone isnt always enough.

Chapter 8, Just for Tonight

Sam

"Dean, do you ever think about the future?"

My big brother sat next to me, tossing out his fishing line into the dam. We had been staying with Bobby for over a week with no word from Dad. I could tell Dean was getting anxious. He was fourteen and I was ten.

"What do you mean, Sammy?"

"What we will be like when we are older."

"Well, I think we will be like this." He shrugged.

"Fishing?"

"Maybe. I think it'll be just the two of us. Hunting monsters like we do now." He focuses as he tossed the line out again, trying to find the perfect spot.

I held my own rod, never quite knowing what to do. "You want to still be hunting?"

"Of course,” he said flippantly. "Don't you?" He took the pole from me. "It's like this, press the button and throw let go when you've found your spot."

He cranked the line back in and handed it to me. I followed his instructions and tossed out the line.

"I don't know if I want to keep hunting." I admitted. "I kind of do."

"Good throw!" He smiled. He turned to me, and read my expression. "What's on your mind, Sammy?"

"I don't know. I just saw this family at the store with Bobby and they seemed really happy."

I remembered the father scooping up his running son. He leaned over and kissed his wife. They were all laughing. It felt like a commercial for toothpaste. They seemed to glow in my memory. It was all very surreal.

"We are happy, Sammy." His focus was forward. We never talked about Mom or what we lost. Dad was cold and scary. We were happy here in this moment, but not always.

"I know, but what about a real family? Do you ever think about the family you'll have one day? Do you ever want to get married?"

"Me?" He laughed and shook his head. "No way. It's just me and you, Sammy. Forever." He leaned in to me, smirking. "Now what is this really about? Do you like a girl?"

"It's about Ava."

I sat up straight in bed, breathing hard. The dream still felt real. I could smell the river and feel the sun on my cheeks. It was a memory that was blending into reality. My conscious was guilty. I swallowed hard. My mouth was dry.

"Sam are you okay?" Ava asked me in the darkness.

She still slept next to me every night. We needed the comfort to keep the nightmares away. "I'm fine. Just a dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Yes. "No. I can't even really remember it. It slipped away when I woke up."

She sat up with me and pressed her hand to my chest. "Your heart is pounding. Are you sure you're okay?"

I felt my heart rate pick up when she touched me. "I'm fine." I promised her, putting my hand over hers.

"Okay." She eyed me in the darkness. "Well if you remember anything you can tell me about it. You don't have to carry the load alone, Winchester."

"Back atcha, Winchester."

Nel must have felt the disturbance in the house, because a small cry came from the nursery.

Ava started to get out of bed, but I stopped her, my hand on her shoulder. "I'll get her. You've got some bottles in the fridge, right?"

"I do, but you don't have to.."

"I'm already wound up. It'll take me some time to fall back to sleep, so I may as well be useful." I pressed a kiss to her temple. "Go back to sleep."

"Okay." She said cautiously. "But I'm here if you need me."

"I know."

I shut the door behind me and walked into the nursery. I clicked on the side lamp. "Hey, Nel. You can't sleep either." She kicked and giggled at the sight of me. We were lucky. She was always such a happy baby.

I picked her up. We walked into the kitchen together and I brought out the bottle of breast milk. It was still a foreign concept. The idea that she could produce food for Nel was wild to me. I ran it under hot water like she taught me, and tested it on my wrist. Body temperature. Nel squirmed in my arms, growing impatient. "Shh, here ya go." I led the nipple into her mouth. She sighed and started sucking away.

"That's what you needed." I smiled and walked back into her room. I lowered myself on to the rocking chair. She was so beautiful. Her blue green eyes rolled around, looking for me. "Hi Peanut." I leaned down and kissed her head. I'd always wanted kids. She wasn't mine, but in my soul it felt like she was. I would never forget the way it felt when she was born. They say that men become fathers when they see their child. Nothing else mattered to me when I saw her. I knew I would protect her and love her in whatever way I was allowed.

I moved the bottle out of her lips so she could burp. I pulled her up on my shoulder and bounced a bit, tapping her back. She opened her mouth and gave me a tiny blep.

"Good girl!" I grinned. I never thought I'd be so excited about a burp, but here I was. Nel smiled back at me and stuck her tongue out. She grabbed for my finger and squeezed it. I was always amazed by how strong she could be.

"What do you think, Nellie? What should I do?"

She blinked up at me, like she needed more of an explanation.

I paused for a second and let out a sigh. "Is the way I'm feeling wrong? Should I be playing a different part in all of this?" I was looking for validation from a two month old baby. I rocked her more and she gave a big yawn. "Your Mommy is a special lady, ya know? She's the kind of woman where you can't help looking at her. She's just way too pretty. Her laugh lights up a room. It's ridiculous, and it makes you laugh too."

I watched her eyes get heavier she pulled my finger that she had been holding into her mouth and sucked on it gently.

"I can talk to her about everything, ya know? She's my best friend. I don't want to mess that up. I don't want to mess everything up." My voice shook. I needed my brother, but if he was here I couldn't want it. Not even for a second.

"She picked Dean. She should've picked him. That never bothered me, because I wanted my brother to be happy...but he's gone. He's gone and being with her makes me happy. You and your mom are the light in the darkness." I admitted to the sleeping child. "I love you both. I always have."

"Sam," Ava said, leaning against the door frame.

"How much did you hear?" I asked, rocking Nel. I looked away from her and back to the sleeping baby.

"Enough." She pushed her shoulder length hair behind her ear.

I stood up, laying Nel down in her crib. "I shouldn't..."

She walked to me, and grabbed my shoulder turning me to look at her. "Sam..." She breathed. She reached up and captured my lips in hers. Her kiss was urgent and needy. I pulled her closer to me.

She heard everything and she still kissed me. She pulled on the collar of my shirt, yanking it up. She was trying to take it off. I pulled back and looked at her. Her blue eyes met mine and my stomach flipped. I reached back and pulled off my T-shirt. Her eyes fell to my bare chest. She slowly reached up and ran her fingers over the skin, causing my hair to raise on the back of my neck. She pulled her hand away, and I half expected a slap. I expected her to walk away. To cry. To yell.

She didn't.

She grabbed the hem of her shirt and twisted her arms, pulling it over her head.

I thought I was going to pass out. She looked so sexy. Her full breasts hung naked below her neck. Her soft stomach was already tightening up. She was a woman, and she looked like one. I took a step, closing the space between us. I picked her up, urging her legs to wrap around my waist. Her breasts pressed against me and I held her tighter. Now that I had her I didn't plan on letting her go.

Ava

"Ava," Sam whispered against my mouth.

His words had me dizzy. Skin on skin. I couldn't deny he was sexy rocking my daughter to sleep.

The way he looked at me when I took off my top sent me over the edge. His jaw hung open, his eyes wide. I'd seen the look before. He liked the way I looked, and I've felt so terrible about myself that seeing him want me was too much.

I ran my fingers through his shaggy hair, and he walked me out of the nursery, pulling the door shut behind us.

I pulled his bottom lip into my mouth and sucked gently. Sam groaned under my kiss. He held me up with one hand to hold my face in the other. I tried not to think about anything. To be in the moment. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to be alive.

He turned my head so he could kiss down my neck. His mouth was urgent and warm, but precise with every kiss. He pushed into his room and slowly laid me down on my back. He stared at me, and I looked back up at him. He was breathing hard. His sculpted stomach and chest tinted with a bit of sweat. My heart raced as he looked at me.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asked quietly.

He was so fucking cute.

I grabbed my pajama shorts in my fingers and yanked them down, leaving myself exposed.

I got on my knees and moved to him. He looked shocked, his eyes trailing my body. He lowered himself onto the bed pulling me to him. Our lips connected again. We were begging for togetherness. For something to take the pain and loneliness away. We were begging for more.

————————-

I slept with Sam Winchester. My head was on his chest and he was running his fingers down my spine.

I fucked my husbands brother. It was all very Real Housewives.

I looked up at him. His hair was sweaty, and he looked tired. More than anything, he looked peaceful.

I couldn't decide if we were keeping each other afloat or if our constant clawing at each other was what was drowning us. We wouldn't know until one of us stopped breathing.

"What're you thinking about?" I asked him, running my finger along the crease in between his eyebrows.

"Fishing." He smiled at me, catching my fingers. He pressed his lips to the tips.

"Fishing?" I asked him with a small laugh. "Why?"

"I did a lot of thinking when I was Fishing as a kid."

"What'd you think about?"

"What I wanted. I knew I didn't want to be a hunter. I bounced around for what I wanted to be, but I always knew I wanted to have a family. One that wasn't like mine."

I pushed a hair out of his face. I could picture young Sam by the river trying to catch a fish. The idea made me smile. I wondered if he could teach Nel one day.

"I loved my parents, but I know what it feels like to lose a parent." I sucked in my breath. "I never wanted my kids to have to feel that."

She won't feel that pain. I reminded myself. He's already gone.

"What're you thinking about?" He asked me.

"How much I love seeing you with Nel." I smiled.

He pulled me on top of him and he held my face in his hands. "I love being with Nel. I love being with you."

Sam was so open about his feelings. He was so different from his brother. He was emotional and sweet.

I wanted to be in love with him. I wanted to say what I hoped he wanted to hear, but all I could do was kiss him.

There was still an ache in me that I thought would never go away.

I buried my face in my moms shirt and cried. "Honey, it's okay."

"No! It isn't." I cried harder.

I had a pair of lizards that I said were married. The girl lizard died. She got depressed, her tail fell off, and she died. Her pen mate laid next to her, and I worried he would die too. "He is going to die of a broken heart, Mommy!"

My mom smiled softly and tussled my hair. "Oh sweetie he won't. Losing someone you love is hard, but there isn't just one person for everyone. If your soul is open to love you can have more than one soul mate. They'll always find you. It's their destiny to love you." She leaned in and kissed my hair.

"Even for Mr Skins?" It wasn't the best name.

"Even for Mr Skins."

Maybe she was right. Maybe I could love again, or maybe I would be Mr Skins and curl up next to his love, lose my tail, and die.

—————

Chapter Nine, When the Light Dies Out

Get caught up!

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mxschief-managed · 6 years ago

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Love Potion (Remus Lupin x Reader)

Requested by @knowledgeisthebomb

A/N: sorry that this took so long! I hope this is all okay!

Warnings: None

Word count: 1694

Request something

You've known Remus for what seems like a lifetime. Understandably so, seeing as your life didn't truly begin until the Sorting Hat was placed on your head. You never really considered yourself to be brave, especially when you were stood in front of the entire school, almost shaking with anxiety, but the Sorting Hat found saw little spark within you, and sorted you into Gryffindor. Your squishy-faced, eleven year old self had no clue that the scratched-up blonde boy you sat next to would become one of your closest friends.

Remus Lupin watched you make your way down to the Gryffindor table, and envied your calm demeanour. He was barely able to contain his nerves, like most other first-years, but somehow you looked like you were already at home. Of course, inside you were completely melting down. You didn't know a single person, and now you had to try and make friends? An absolute nightmare for you. You plopped yourself down on the first open seat you saw, much to the delight of a certain shy werewolf.

When the feast began, Remus introduced himself.

"Hey! I'm Lupin. Remus Lupin.." He said with a tentative smile.

"I'm (Y/N)(L/N). Nice to meet you!" You replied, mentally thanking Merlin that somebody actually spoke to you.

"Remus, quit chatting her up and pass the bread!" A boy with thick, raven hair remarked, causing your face to heat up.

"Shut it, Sirius. Guys, this is (Y/N)." He introduced you to his friends one by one. James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. You had no idea what you were getting into when you had that first conversation with them all.

The Marauders were your people. In no time at all, the five of you became inseparable. Despite your castle-wide popularity, you all chose to stay within your tight-knit group, planning pranks and getting up to no good. However, no matter how close you were with the boys, you always had a special connection with Remus. You developed one of those friendships where you didn't even need to filter your thoughts when you were around him. The two of you could sit in silence together, just reading, or getting on with your stacks of homework, and you would still enjoy yourself solely because of Remus' presence.

Everything was brilliant, until October of fourth year. It was a Saturday morning, and you woke up ridiculously early. Finding yourself unable to go back to sleep, you take your favourite book down to the common room, and curl up with it in front of the fire. Remus had always been an early riser, and went into the common room to notice you, sat there. The first thing that occurred to Remus was how pretty you looked as you intensely focused on the story, acting it out with facial expressions. The second thing that occurred to him was how brilliant of an opportunity it was to scare you. He crept up behind you and tapped your shoulder, making you jump out of your skin. You glared at Remus as your book fell to the ground.

"Morning, Sunshine!" Remus giggled, earning another scowl.

"Not funny, Remus. I was enjoying that!" You grumble, bending down to pick up the book, coincidentally at the same time as Remus. His hand touched yours- a gesture that had happened multiple times previously- and your heart stopped. Oh fuck.

All it took was one touch to realise you were, and had always been, head over heels for Remus. You kept it quiet, though, not wanting to ruin the strong friendship you had. Telling him you liked him would disturb the balance of your entire friendship group, and you weren't prepared to lose that, so you kept quiet.

By the time sixth year rolled around, Remus became the crush of many girls. Over summer, he had a growth spurt, and became more handsome than ever, finally growing into his body. You had always found Remus attractive, but he really had become astonishingly handsome. This broad-shouldered man with a jawline that could cut glass was all people saw, though. You loved Remus no matter how he looked. You loved his endless knowledge, and how even though he saw himself as a monster, he was the kindest soul. These girls didn't know that, though, following him round and giving him way more attention than he wanted.

Eventually though, the inevitable happened. Remus got a girlfriend. Nicole, a Gryffindor fifth year, with features carved like an ancient Greek sculpture, and radiant, dark skin. She was smart, too, excelling in Potions and Herbology. She was one of those girls that was effortlessly perfect, never a hair out of place. It was no wonder that Remus fell for her so fast.

You decided that you had to get over him. Moving on was going to be difficult, maybe impossible even, but hanging on to the idea that you had a chance with Remus was ridiculous, seeing as he had a new girlfriend, who he was completely infatuated with. Even if you always denied it, you were seen as one of the most intelligent and beautiful witches at Hogwarts; boys would jump at the chance to speak to you. You decided to go on a few dates, and no matter how nice the boys who took you to Hogsmeade were, they couldn't hold a candle to Remus. Even though it was horrible of you, you kind of wished that Remus would notice you getting all of this male attention. You hated yourself for wishing it, and you hated that Remus rarely spoke to you or the other Marauders any more. Every waking second, he wanted to be with Nicole.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and you were sitting in the Gryffindor common room alone, nose in a book.

"Morning, (Y/N)! You excited for Hogsmeade today?" Sirius said whilst ruffling your hair, causing you to jump, and lose your page.

"I don't think I'm gonna come today."

"What, why? Zonko's has new stock in!" James stuck out his bottom lip.

"I just don't feel like it." You replied, trying to carry on reading.

"You suck. If this is about a boy I sw-"

"It's not," You lied, interrupting Sirius. "Bring me back something cool, though!"

James, Sirius and Peter said goodbye, and dashed off, excited to go the village. Part of you wanted to go with them, but you knew Remus and Nicole would probably be there, and you couldn't stand them.

You had just found your page, when all of a sudden you heard shouting coming from upstairs. You tried to ignore it, until you realised you knew that voice.

"How could you do this?" Remus yelled, sounding angrier than you had ever heard him.

"I-I'm sorry, it's ju-" Nicole stuttered meekly.

"Sorry? You're sorry that you've been drugging me? Oh, then it's fine then!" Remus' voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Well you never even look any girls. None of us are good enough for you, apart from (Y/N)." Nicole said, her voice cracking slightly. You felt bad for her, but also confused. Why would she be talking about you?

"Yes, because I've been in love with her for years! She is the only girl I've ever cared about this much, and thanks to you, she probably hates me!" Remus' voice lost the anger, and became full of hurt. Remus stormed down the stairs, entering the common room, not knowing you had heard everything.

"Remus? What's happened?" You asked, seeing how his face was stained with tears.

"Piss off, (Y/N). Don't you have a date to go on or something?" Remus hissed. That comment cut you like a freshly-sharpened knife. You stormed out of the common room, and didn't stop until you had reached your favourite spot by the Black Lake. The five of you usually sat there, discussing homework, devising new pranks, and getting into stupid debates that could last for hours. Sirius and James once spent an entire afternoon arguing how to pronounce the word egg. It was pouring down with rain, but you didn't care. You were completely apathetic.

You mulled over what you had heard earlier. Did Remus really like you? If he did, why was he so horrible? Tears pricked your eyes as you thought about what he had said to you. He probably said he loved you to get Nicole to back down, then felt embarrassed when he realised you had heard it. God, he would never like you. Tears flowed freely down your face as you felt your heart break a little more every second.

"(Y/N)! Thank God, I've been looking for you everywhere!" Remus panted, his smile falling as soon as he saw your tear-stained face.

"Are you crying because of me? Merlin, I never want to be the reason for you to be sad." Remus said softly as he sat down next to you.

"Too late." You retort.

"I hate myself for being horrible to you. Nicole was giving me love potion. I don't have feelings for her at all." Remus paused, and brushed a strand of wet hair from your face.

"The thing is, (Y/N), from the moment I met you, I have been in love with you. I know you don't feel the same, hell, why would you? I'm a mess, and you could have any guy-"

"Remus. I love you with every fibre of my being. I tried so hard to get over you, doing stupid shit with stupid guys, but nothing worked, because none of them were you."

Remus looked at you with pure delight painted all over his face. The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, and it felt better than anything you could have ever imagined.

"Let's get inside, okay?" Remus said, finally breaking off the kiss. You walked hand in hand back to the castle.

"(Y/N), you need to see what we got you!" Sirius grinned, waltzing into the common room.

"You're an idiot for not coming to Hogsmeade!" Peter declared.

The three boys stopped in their tracks when they saw you and Remus. You were wearing his favourite jumper, and his hand was in yours as you slept, intertwined by the fire.

"Finally!" Sirius whisper-shouted, trying not to wake you both up.

"You owe me a Butterbeer!" James hissed to Sirius.

#marauders era #remus lupin #young remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #young remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #marauders oneshot #marauders imagine #marauders era imagine #harry potter #hp x reader

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notapaladin · 3 years ago

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oh you take all of the pain away (redux)

Because I am the only person writing Obsblood fics, I wind up rereading them a lot to get my fandom fix!...so I notice when I can definitely do much better with an older concept. This is The One Where Acatl Has Nightmares, But Better.

Also on AO3

Older version here.

The shadows on the wall were taunting him. Acatl closed his eyes again, but it didn’t help.

This is ridiculous.

“Mmm,” Teomitl murmured into his ear. “I can hear you thinking.”

There was another soft mumble behind him. “Night.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. Good night, love.

In the cool, still darkness, Teomitl’s presence a bulwark at his back, with no sound save for their steady breathing and the measured thumping of their heartbeats, he slowly felt himself fall.

And fall.

Down and down and down...

Only to land on his knees with a shock like a distant blow. The ground was cold and hard under him, and strangely lumpy; as he got to his feet, he saw why.

Alone...

And—

He opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. What good would calling out do?

He turned the corner and entered the palace gates, and the first sounds he heard fell like hammers on his ears, for all that they were the thin, chattering-infant voices of ahuitzotls.

“All hail...”

“...our great Revered Speaker...”

“Drowning, drowned, all are drowned...”

“...They cast the reeds...”

There was a particularly large one blocking his path through a doorway. As he edged around it, it met his eyes. “He is our Emperor,” it hissed. “Not yours.”

Ice flooded his veins. He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

The doorway in front of him stood wide, and he knew what he would see when he walked in. He didn’t want to. Duality preserve him, the last thing he wanted was to walk through that door.

His legs carried him forward anyway, and when his gaze adjusted to the brightness he choked back a noise that wanted to be a sob.

Before he knew it, he was wading towards him. The blood parted like humid air. “Teomitl!”

Teomitl lifted his eyes. There was no hint of recognition in them. “We do not give you leave to call Us by that name, priest.”

“Teomitl—it’s me—”

Terrified, he opened his mouth to call Teomitl’s name again, but water rushed in to fill his lungs instead of air, and he thrashed desperately. Knowing there was no use in calling for Lord Death, the words of a prayer nevertheless drummed through his head. Though it be jade, it is crushed, though it be gold, it is tarnished. Only for a little while do we have the feathers, the jade, before it must come to Your embrace...

The voice of his patron rang through the water. “No.”

He froze, floating suspended in the current. My Lord?

Mictlantecuhtli wasn’t there. Not physically, at any rate; even in a dream, Acatl knew he’d feel it if he was in Lord Death’s presence. But even so, He was suddenly sitting on His skeletal throne, gazing dispassionately down at them both through a curtain of blood, and Acatl felt his heart quail in his chest as He spoke again. “He must die. Such is the way of the world.”

No! Desperate, he lunged through the water. Yes, of course one day Teomitl would die, as all men did, but not like this. Not when he was young and strong and beautiful, not when he hadn’t completed what he’d set out to do. He should die at a great age surrounded by his loving grandchildren, not choked to bursting with the waters of his own lake. Acatl couldn’t let him.

“Why do you struggle? You know you cannot stop this.”

That was right. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t even try. He was the High Priest of the Dead, wasn’t he? It was not for him to interfere. Maybe Teomitl had even been meant to die of the plague. Maybe he should have left him there. Maybe, when Teomitl had spat out the words of his heart—red up to his ears, not looking at him, fingers white-knuckled in the folds of his cape—he should have turned them aside and continued on the solitary and cold and lonely path set out for him.

He couldn’t respond. Blood and water filled his mouth. I’m sorry. I love you.

Eyes wide open, he watched Teomitl sink into the darkness.

“Acatl-tzin!?”

Everything was dark. His limbs refused to obey him.

Something shook him, hard. A voice he knew as well as his own snapped in a note of panic, “Wake up!”

Teomitl’s grip on his shoulder was tight enough to bruise, but the look in his eyes was wide and soft and frightened. Frightened for him, he realized. “Acatl...?”

Acatl grimaced, staring down at his hands. If he balled them into fists, they didn’t tremble so badly. “I’m fine,” he lied. It would be true eventually.

He focused on his breathing. In. Out. In again. Slowly, his heart started to calm, and the residue of that sick terror started to drain out. “...I’m...” But he couldn’t finish the lie.

Seeming to come to a decision, Teomitl let go of Acatl’s shoulder to cover his hand instead. It was shockingly gentle for a moment; at first Acatl almost couldn’t process it, but then it sank in. The warmth of his lover’s skin, the smooth calluses from his swordwork, the faint raised scar across his palm. “No. You were crying in your sleep.”

He closed his eyes briefly. No, that wasn’t a good idea. He could still see the ahuitzotls when he blinked, could still see the specter of his lord telling him to let Teomitl die. I couldn’t. I can’t. I won’t. He opened his eyes again, and this time he looked at Teomitl. His beloved looked drowsy, moonlight shrouding his features, but he could make out a hard, stubborn set to his mouth that he knew very well; it said that Teomitl knew what Acatl was doing, and he didn’t appreciate it. And Acatl had promised him honesty. Reluctantly, he nodded. “Mm.”

Teomitl gave his hand a gentle squeeze, but his voice was firm. “You should talk about it. It’ll help. Isn’t that what Mihmatini always tells us?”

He didn’t want to talk about it. Gods, that was the last thing he wanted. Maybe if he said nothing, thought about everything else under the sun, it would go away. But...

But Mihmatini had been right, when she’d told them that. And it had helped. Exposing the deepest feelings of his heart had gotten Teomitl to lay down his sword, had turned them from teacher and student to friends and then to lovers. He couldn’t deny him when he asked to be trusted with this, even as he dug a penitential nail into the soft skin of his own thigh. I cannot believe it is right for me to tear myself from him, O Lord. Not from the man who had upended Acatl’s lonely life and built a space for himself in it with nothing but dogged persistence and a radiant smile. “...You won’t take no for an answer, will you?”

“So you can kill it?” Acatl quipped, half-serious. Granted, he wouldn’t put it past him...but still.

“Hrmph,” Teomitl muttered. “If I can, yes.”

Oh, my love. He exhaled. “...Alright, then.”

But saying he’d tell his lover about it and actually making his mouth form the words were two different things, and for a long moment he couldn’t figure out where to begin. Finally, with Teomitl’s thumb making little circles over his knuckles, he started to speak. “I was in the Sacred Precinct, alone, but I knew you were there somewhere.” Every surface gold, and all those rivers of blood, and me in the middle of it thinking only of you. “The palace was full of ahuitzotls dressed as noblemen and warriors, all praising you. All calling you their savior. One told me that you were their Emperor, and not mine.”

Teomitl growled quietly, sounding like an ahuitzotl himself. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I know that now,” he huffed. “But...”

He trailed off. He couldn’t continue. Teomitl’s fingers tightened on his. “But?”

“I saw you in the throne room, the Turquoise-and-Gold Crown on your head, and you didn’t know me.” Underneath Teomitl’s firm grip, his hand clenched into a fist. “You looked at me like a stranger.”

Teomitl wasn’t looking at him like a stranger now. He was, in fact, looking more than a bit disturbed. “I could never. Do you think I could forget who you are to me?”

He shook his head. “I know.” There had been a time, when the plague was threatening them and Chalchiuhnenetl was breathing poison into Teomitl’s heart, that he’d been afraid of that exact thing. Now that he was awake again, with Teomitl’s hand on top of his, he had to agree with him. The whole thing was ridiculous. Ahuitzotls didn’t talk, and Teomitl made no secret whatsoever of his feelings for him. They’d go back to sleep, and it would all look better in the morning.

“He must die. Such is the way of the world.”

He nearly choked on his own breath. My Lord wasn’t there, he reminded himself firmly. That was only a nightmare. I’m doing nothing against His will by loving Teomitl, and I won’t stand idly by while he dies.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he said automatically.

Teomitl’s eyes hardened. “Acatl. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

He was. When had that started? He took one deep breath and then another, reaching for Mictlan’s presence within him. Cold despair pulsed through his veins, forcing him to swallow past a lump in his throat, but at least he wasn’t trembling. The words came slowly, pulled through his lips by a copper fishhook that tore skin on the way out. “...I dreamed that I saw Lord Death. And he told me...we were both drowning in blood and lake water, and he told me to let you die. You knew me then. You reached for me. And I froze.”

“Acatl,” Teomitl breathed.

“And then I woke up,” he snapped. All of a sudden he was angry—with himself for being such a fool, with his soul for wandering free in places he should have thought it would know better than to go, with Teomitl for cracking the stone walls around his heart. “I woke up, and I realized it was a dream, and I am fine. Lord Death has said nothing against us. There’s no need to concern ourselves with my nightmares!”

“There is when the man I love wakes weeping next to me! Do you think I can ignore that? Do you think I would ignore that?” Teomitl made an angry stabbing gesture with his free hand, the one not clinging to Acatl’s like a lifeline. “I don’t care what your nightmares say. I know perfectly well you serve the gods with all your heart, but you’re still you. You carried me to safety when I had the plague, when I was being a complete bastard to you. You wouldn’t let me drown even if Mictlantecuhtli stood in front of you and ordered it.”

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. I might. Duality help me, if I ever had to make that choice...I might. He didn’t think he would. He knew that it would tear him in two if he did, that his heart would never be the same, that Lord Death who was always fair wouldn’t demand that anyway, not without due cause. But the possibility glistened in his mind like a bloodsoaked knife, and he couldn’t banish it. “I’m sorry, I’m overwrought—”

Teomitl kissed him. It was quick and sudden and hard, licking into his half-open mouth and leaving him reeling from the sensation of a hot mouth and a clever tongue and the faint sting of teeth. He was kissing back before he knew it, grabbing for his lover’s shoulder just to keep himself upright; when a hand found his waist and gripped hard in response, fingers digging into the meat of his side, he let out a breathy whine that wasn’t even remotely one of pain.

Then Teomitl broke the kiss, gazing steadily into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.”

“You can’t—” Promise that, he was going to say, but then Teomitl’s mouth was on his again, stealing the words. This kiss was slower and more tender, but no less devastating for that. When that tongue slid into his mouth again and the hand at his waist slid up his ribs, he arched his back with a moan. He might still leave me, came the treacherous thought. He is a warrior, and once he is crowned he’ll have no shortage of enemies. But that’s not tonight, is it?

Teomitl shifted attention to his throat, lips moving against the sensitive skin. “I can, and I will. Let me prove it to you.”

“That’s good,” Teomitl breathed. “Lay back, love. Let me take care of you.”

Teomitl returned the kiss eagerly before drawing away with a wicked smile. “You’re beautiful like this.” He punctuated his words with a slow upwards stroke, and when Acatl sighed in pleasure he chuckled quietly. “You sound as good as you look.”

That was accompanied by another rippling squeeze. Acatl couldn’t even think. Heat rose slowly through his veins, coiling in the pit of his stomach, and he rocked steadily into it. There was Teomitl’s sure, strong hand and the steady pressure of his thigh rubbing against his balls; he ground against it breathlessly before finding words again. He knew he was blushing. “Nnh...voyeur...”

Teomitl smirked, unrepentant, and pressed up with his thigh, pulling a ragged groan out of him. “You deserve to be looked at.”

But Teomitl was shaking his head and drawing back, robbing him of his prize. “No.” His grin flashed white teeth in the darkness. “This is for you. You can make it up to me in the morning.”

And there would be quite a lot to make up; Teomitl was still keeping that slow, steady pace, but it was relentless. The building pressure at the base of his spine was enough to make Acatl groan and arch, letting his head fall back. That exposed his throat, and when Teomitl’s mouth found it again he let out a ragged moan at the faint scrape of teeth at his pulse. The way he was going, there would certainly be marks the next morning. He thought he should probably care about that, but at the moment it didn’t seem to matter. No, this slick rolling pleasure was far more important.

Even when they both came down from that high, they didn’t move. He knew he should clean up, but he was utterly content to lay on his back like a lizard and bask in pleasantly languorous postcoital bliss. His nightmares had never felt further away, nor had he ever been so wonderfully aware of the body he inhabited. I was such a fool. How could this possibly displease the gods? Teomitl was the one to wipe their combined spend off their stomachs with the nearest piece of fabric and immediately flop onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow and gazing at Acatl so tenderly that it made his heart melt. Acatl had to touch him again, settling a hand on the curve of his waist and feeling a smile tug at his lips. My beloved. I made the right choice.

Even in the darkness, Teomitl’s smile was like a sun rising. “...Feeling better?”

“Mm...” His nightmares were already vanishing into the mist, scraps torn to four hundred piece by the way Teomitl had touched him. If he went back to sleep now, he suspected his dreams would be much less trying. Quite possibly stranger—the memory of a particularly vivid one where Acamapichtli had turned into a very large owl still stuck with him—but they wouldn’t feature Teomitl dying in front of him. He was looking forward to it. But there was sweat drying on his skin, and the temperature had dropped quite a bit. Honesty. “It’s a little cold.”

Then he squeaked, because Teomitl was scooping up one of their discarded cloaks and wrapping it and his arms around him like a giant tamale. He found himself with his face buried in Teomitl’s chest, soft cotton cocooning him gently, and he drew in a long breath that was full of the scent of his lover’s skin. They were safe. They’d remain safe. Ahuitzotls were not known for their verbal capabilities. “Mmm...”It was a little difficult for him to get his arms free of the fabric, but he persevered until he could slide them around Teomitl’s waist, holding him close. There, that was better.

“Warmer now?” Teomitl nuzzled into his hair, sounding gently amused.

He yawned, working his jaw in an approximation of a word. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good.” Teomitl stroked his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut on a long exhale. His lover’s voice lowered. “Let’s go back to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning, Acatl.”

He smiled. “I know you will.”

#acatl #teomitl #teocatl #not work safe #obsidian and blood #paladin writes stuff

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zwei-the-penguin-with-a-pen · 6 years ago

Text

‘Tapdance at Knuckle Junction’

Three members of Beacon Academy's Team CRRM found seats close to the arena floor. Their gargantuan teammate, Rhett Aquilon, had reached the Singles round of the tournament and could be squared up to fight any time. His partner Maize Demetra could hardly wait.

Seeing Rhett fight solo was always a treat. She wondered what poor soul would be cursing the day they were born. Her brown eyes were glued to the screen as the faces shuffled for the selection.

Her dude was up; the scrolling image on the left stopped on Rhett's face. The fox faunus cheered loudly, her sandy blonde hair bouncing as she hopped in place.

"Hey, little foxy!" Maize heard Yang say. "So who do you think your boy will be fighting?" Yang asked her as the image for Rhett's opposition began spinning.

"Whoever it is will regret ever signing up for this tournament! The biggest guy in Beacon is no one with whom to be trifled." Maize's teammate, the scruffy Rusty Holt, answered. He looked like he walked straight out of a Western movie: a dark brown vest over a white button-up, a gun belt over his denim pants, and a cowboy hat and boots, his two pistols holstered at his waist. He even sported a red bandana around his neck.

"You sure, Rusty? He's strong, but there are some contenders still in the game!" Crystal Brooke, the leader of Team CRRM, asked him. She had bright hair as blue as the sky and icy blue eyes to match. Her weapon, an axe-shaped guitar named Grimm Edge, rested on her back. "That huge dude from Haven with the axes, the musclebound chick from Vacuo. And Pyrrha, even though he probably won't be fighting a Beacon student."

"Oh please, the Frozen Bear Bullet will demolish anyone in his path!" Maize cheered again, her fox ears wiggling excitedly.

The spinning wheel of faces slowed, the crowd going quiet in anticipation. It stopped on the face of Haven Academy's Zwei Silverstein.

"You guys still sure of the Polar Bear Boy?" A reptilian faunus with bright green scales asked them. Ariah Mikari grinned at the sight of her boyfriend's face on the screen. "His team demolished mine, and Team ARTC is just as tough as CRRM."

"Most of the reason for that was Team MZKL got a forest and Indigo made all the plants do his bidding! The only ones Zwei fought were you and Ragnar!" Maize snapped. Her brother would smash this human's face to pieces.

"You might remember Bakudan defeating Indigo and rushing Zwei alongside Miss Oktober. He took them both down easily enough. Bianca took out Lorelei but then Katrina blew her out of the stadium. Then in their Doubles match, he eradicated Flik Jewell with no problem while Tree fought off her cousin." Ariah reminded them. The fox girl rolled her eyes.

"Will Zwei Silverstein of Haven's Team MZKL and Rhett Aquilon of Beacon's Team CRRM please report to the arena stage!" Dr. Oobleck called over the PA. A silver blur raced out of an entryway onto the stage, and Zwei was standing there in wait.

An icy chill fell over the stadium as Rhett Aquilon, Beacon's biggest and baddest boy, made the scene.

"Rhett! I finally get to square up with the strongest fight Beacon has to offer!" Zwei bowed respectfully before the walking freezer. Rhett nodded.

"I hear you've got the top marks at Haven, and it's not hard to see why. You pretty much carried your team in that first match!" Zwei's eyes narrowed at Rhett's remark.

"They held their own. Lorelei was tricked by Bianca Tenerife's spells, and Indigo was just plain careless. He thought his trees would defend him well enough, but Cambria Bakudan made the whole forest go 'BOOM!'" He replied.

The bear faunus that was Rhett Aquilon was positively gigantic. He wore short and spiny white hair, and two small white bear ears rested atop his head. He seemed to not be wearing his armor today, though he could deploy the suit at any time. He looked almost like a bear Mecha when he wore his full armor suit.

Cryo and Rime, his enormous gauntlets, rested on his ginormous hands. The intricate gauntlets had spiked knuckles and wrists but otherwise looked cybernetic. Zwei knew to steer clear of the monolithic bear boy's freezing punches, lest he should wind up a block of ice. He'd made sure to pack Hiei and Kurama with custom Dust cartridges in case he needed an extra boost.

Rhett deployed his armor, the blue, white and black plates appearing from nowhere. "DUDE! YOU HAVE THE COOLEST ARMOR!!! IT MAKES YOU LOOK LIKE ESCAFLOWNE!" Zwei spazzed at the sight of the fully armored Rhett.

"Like who?" Rhett replied. Zwei grinned.

"It's a mech from an anime."

"A mech? Like a Gundam?"

"The same idea, but vastly different. Escaflowne was like a knight's armor came to life or something. That show's technology was more retro-futuristic than most mecha shows."

"Hmm, I'll have to check it out. Is it as heart-wrenching as Evangelion?" Rhett could hardly believe he and his foe were nerding out in front of all of Remnant. "Nah, it's more of a romance than a nightmare..." Zwei grinned, Rhett laughing back.

"If the gentlemen on the battlefield are ready... although I would love to hear more about these mecha shows you're both talking about later... BEGIN!!" Dr. Oobleck announced. His inner nerd was showing proudly today, it seemed.

Rhett and Zwei came out swinging. Zwei was impressed that Rhett could move as fast as he did with such heavy armor. He was not as fast as Zwei, though. The silver-haired boy hopped around Rhett in circles, hacking away with his two throwing axes.

Rhett wasn't putting up with that. He activated his Semblance to freeze the air around him. Ice shards formed on Zwei's body, and he knew it was time to make some space between them. He yelled out, his Semblance amplifying the sound his voice and casting a barrier around him. He used the opportunity to hop away from Rhett.

All six feet and four inches of Zwei were now blistering cold. He used Hiei to conjure some fire to melt the ice on his uniform. He then thrust Hiei and Kurama together, the two axes taking the shape of what looked to be a rocket launcher. He shot a blast of fire Dust at the frozen bear man.

Rhett's icy Semblance sucked the heat out of the fire until it dissipated. It never even got close...

The blades of Zwei's axes came together and shot off at Rhett, surrounded by a ball of fire. This time when the fire fizzled out, the blades hit Rhett's armor. The suit disappeared. Zwei must have hit the switch.

"HEY! Don't show my body without my permission!" Rhett snapped. Zwei apologized.

"I feel like more people should see your body, though. It's pretty impressive. You're super jacked!" Zwei complimented. Rhett blushed.

"Not right now, though, I's got a fight to win!" The bear boy exclaimed as his armor returned. He charged at Zwei, seven feet and two inches of large and imposing bear man. Zwei rolled out of Rhett's way to avoid being crushed.

The two of them traded punches, Zwei shielding his fists with sound. It wasn't the best defense against Cryo and Rime and the onslaught of ice, but it kept him from being frozen solid. Zwei produced his yo-yo, a trick he normally wouldn't use, and thrust it forward. The yo-yo punched holes in Rhett's icy aura shield, and Zwei hacked his way through the opening he'd made with his axes.

Him getting that close to Rhett caught the bear boy off-guard, and Zwei's punch threw him off his balance. The enormous boy fell over, but he rolled and caught his footing.

"Did you get that from Ariah?" She uses yo-yos sometimes!"

"Her uncle gave me this, but he taught both of us the yo-yo fighting techniques! Little Rinku is a genius!" Zwei answered, winking at his girlfriend in the crowd. The reptile girl blushed brightly. "Alright, Rhett. Time for jams!"

"Like tunes or like noms?"

"The former. Why would I bring eats to a sanctioned tournament fight? I mean, I know a girl whose Semblance involves eating, but I don't think she even signed up for the tournament!"

"Do you see how large I am? I always pack eats with me. Speaking of which..." Rhett dug into a pocket on his armor and produced a sandwich, devouring it in a quick bite so the ice wouldn't freeze it. "MMM! MAIZE, THIS IS TASTY! THANK YOU! YOU'RE MY NEW FAVORITE!!"

"Oh hush, Rhett! You're making her blush! Besides, she's your favortie already, isn't she?" Crystal answered him, their foxy teammate too stunned to speak.

"I ought to shoot you for that, Brain Freeze! We all know I make the best sandwiches in Vale!" Rusty fired off, Crystal rolling her eyes.

A tune started playing, and Rhett noticed Zwei had produced his cello. This tune was a bop. It sounded almost like a shanty.

"Hey, that's pretty good!" Rhett told him, dancing to the tune.

"Thanks!" Zwei replied. He put Genkai away, but the music continued. He produced his guitar. "Genkai makes for a nice rhythm, but Ototo here really makes the tunes!" Zwei played his tune on his new instrument, layering the music with his Semblance. He even clapped and used mouth noises to make a percussive section.

"Dude, you're totally a music machine!" Rhett cheered, still dancing.

"Yep, Ariah's folks used to call me Jukebox! Also, you do know this is building up to an attack, right?" Zwei asked. He had never had someone dance to his music in the heat of battle before, so he wanted to make certain.

"Of course! I've already got a counterattack strategy! You've got a hot beat going, and I feel like dancing! I'll be ready, trust me!" Rhett answered with a grin. "HEY EVERYONE! YOU GUYS SHOULD DANCE, TOO!!" He yelled into the crowd, his thick baritone carrying over Zwei's music.

The audience caught the beat when the tune looped around. The rest of Team CRRM as well as Teams RWBY and CFVY danced around. Team SSSN joined in, even though Neptune looked ridiculous. Even Team JNPR paired off to dance.

"I think the song might be finished, my dude!" Zwei finally announced. Rhett nodded, finishing his dance and readying himself. His body surged with icy aura as Zwei increased his song's volume to painful levels. Rhett fired icicles at his foe as Zwei launched his decibels at Rhett. He fired all of his ice at once.

The blast knocked the two of them to the edge of the ring. They both tiredly hopped up. Rhett retracted his armor and gauntlets. The meters on the screen showed that their auras were low, but they had enough to keep fighting.

"So, shall we just have a fisticuff, then?" Zwei proposed. Rhett nodded, and the two ran at each other. They threw punches and kicks back and forth, evenly matched without their Semblances. Rhett caught one of Zwei's punches in his hand, uppercutting him in that brief opening.

Zwei took that hit hard, falling to the floor after being launched into the air by Rhett's monstrous mitt. He got up to one knee, breathing heavily. He shot at Rhett with an ax in hand, Rhett blocking with Cryo. It was Hiei and Kurama versus Cryo and Rime now.

The both of them swung ferociously, Zwei hacking with his axes and Rhett blocking and punching with his gauntlets. The side of Kurama slapped into Rhett's face, and Zwei tackled him with all his strength. Rhett fell back, but he rolled over and got back to his feet.

"These two just won't quit!" Professor Port mentioned over the PA.

"I knew this would be an incredible bout! These two are ruthlessly strong!" Dr. Oobleck returned. The two enormous boys continued trading blows, the battle finally culminating in a trade of face punches that knocked the both of them out.

"It looks like this match is a draw! Well met, gentlemen!" Professor Port announced. Rhett and Zwei shook hands when they finally stood back up.

"That was the best fight I've had in ages, Zwei!" Rhett complimented. Zwei grinned at the massive bear man.

"Without question, that was the best fight I've EVER had!" Zwei returned. "Hey, would you and your team be down to hang out later? I don't think Team MZKL will be up to anything."

"I'll ask everyone, but I'm pretty sure they'll be down with that," Rhett answered. He and Zwei departed the arena's stage and found their teammates. Zwei kissed his favorite reptile on the lips as she congratulated him.

\/\/\/\/\/ \/\/\/\/\/ \/\/\/\/\/

Day 11: RWBY OC

Rhett Aquilon belongs to @shadowsoldier-rwby. The rest of Team CRRM (pronounced ‘Chrome’) belong to @kimiheartblade. All other OCs mentioned belong to me, ZweI the Penguin With a Pen.

I’ve wanted to write a tournament match between Rhett and Zwei for ages now, but I think I was saving it for part of a bigger story. Oh well.

Team MZKL (’Musical’) consists of Indigo Montoya, Zwei Silverstein, Katrina Windstorm and Lorelei Sienna. They are second year students at Haven at the time of the Vytal Festival tournament.

Team ATRC (Arctic) is made up of Ariah Mikari, Bianca Tenerife, Ragnar Oktober and Cambria Bakudan. They are first years at Beacon.

Team JSMN is Flik Jewell, Serianna Steele, Mangorita Windstorm, and Nekocase Viridian. I think I listed them as Beacon students, also first years.

Zwei and Lorelei are my favorite of my OCs, and Zwei has a bit of an affection for Rhett. Zwei has an interesting attraction formula, as his initial attraction to someone is directly proportional to how much he wants to fight them. I headcanon him being rendered completely catatonic at the first sight of Yang.

He is devoted to Ariah Mikari, though, and would never stray, as she could easily end his life.

This might be the biggest one-shot I’ve ever written, and I’m proud of it. I hope Aiden and Crystal enjoy it as well.

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