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#cause drums go thump in your chest
lure-of-writing · 5 months
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Little Sister: I Promise
Summary: After the news of a lifetime is revealed you are left to deal with the consequences
Word count: 3.7k
The pain in your head was pulsing as if it had a life of its own. The thumping could rival the beat of war drums before a fierce battle. Between the raging pain and apparent dehydration, due to excessive amounts of crying, you had failed to notice the males lingering in your room. 
Sleep did not easily grace you with her presence during your many failed attempts at forgetting the very unforgettable night that was generously blessed upon you from the gods themselves apparently. 
The whoosh of the door first caught the attention of your still sleeping mind, followed by the loud bang of your door handle against the wall. The force of which the door was thrown open sends a waft of air barreling towards you. Jolting awake you first recognize your room in the river house. How you got there was still a little foggy but there were more pressing matters at hand apparently. Such as your body pressed against Azriels. Looking up you see him leaning against the headboard of your bed staring at who you could only assume was your brother. Time came to a complete stop as you took in your mate before you. There he was laid out on your bed, wings splayed out in a sign of comfort, a gentle hand against your back and the other resting on his bare chest after leaving your hair upon your arising. His legs encased you in a warm blanket of content and happiness. 
Less than sixty seconds had passed since the door of your room was unexpectedly blown open and you taking in all that Azriel’s appearance had to offer. Your guess of who interrupted your much needed sleep was proven to be correct. “I told you to stay away from her. I’m going to kill you.” you could feel the venom dripping off of his words. With a heavy sigh you glance up to Azriels face and gasp at what you see. Now that you're really looking and have since rubbed the sleep-covered fog out of your eyes, do you realize the condition he is in. His body was littered with dark purple, black and blue bruises, some bigger than the palm of your hand. You felt your heart constrict at the sight of your mate. With an uneasy stomach you dare to look at his face and you swore your heart stopped beating for a few seconds. One of his eyes was surrounded by splotches of red purple and blue from broken skin and veins. His cheek and jaw were also covered in bruises that matched the ones on his abdomen. 
You had so much to say but were so tongue tied. How in the world were you going to fix this extremely unfortunate situation? Mother knows you are going to need all of the help that both she and the gods can spare you. 
“Rhys don’t. You may be mad at him but, Azriel is my mate.” you found the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. It wasn’t like there were any other words you had formed to say instead. Gently you turn around in between Az’s legs, careful not to knock into him in fear of causing him more unnecessary pain. With your back facing Azriels chest do you finally take in your brother. He was in better shape then your mate but not by much. If you knew anything it was that Azriel was holding back on your brother out of respect for him. You knew Azriel was a far better fighter than your brother. 
“Y/n I love you but move.” Rhysand barely spared you a look before focusing on your mate once again. “No.” This caught your brother's attention “No?” he asked “No” a gentle shake of your head accompanies your firm tone. “I will not ask you again, move.” In all of your life you couldn’t think of a time Rhysand used his power as high lord against you. Never had he allowed the power to rattle your bones, commanding them to bow to him and his superiority. There was always a first for anything. Even with the power radiating off of your brother crashing into you like the ocean crashes into a cliff side you do not waver under the pressure he applies. You would be the clift. Unmoving,unyielding, unforgiving. Straightening your back you raise your head leveling a look at your brother. He may be a high lord but he often forgets your power rivals his own and oftentimes is much more powerful than his. 
Slowly you released the rein you had on your powers allowing them to poke and prod at the feeling of your brother's dark energy engulfing the room. After mere milliseconds they started pushing back against him and the invisible force he possessed. “I am not some low level coward who you can push around as you see fit. I am your sister, a blood wielder and you will respect me as such.”  If Rhysands voice was the commanding tone of a high lord then you would match it. Far too often have you let your brother forget the powers you possess. Today you would remind him that not only could you fight your own battles but in fact you never needed him to fight them for you in the first place. 
You watched as your brother tried to not grimace underneath the push back from your own power and the threat of just what it was exactly that you were capable of. “You may be my brother but he is my mate and as much as you hate him right now this does not concern you. As much as that may be a shocker to you.” 
“You are my baby sister and he hurt you which means this does concern me, actually” Swiftly you move to the edge of the bed letting your feet touch the pulse carpet laid underneath your bed and march to your brother. Only once face to face with him did you come to a stop. “Let me remind you Rhysand that I never once gave my opinion or thoughts on your relationship even while Feyre actively despised you and repeatedly reminded you how much Tamlin was better than you. All I ever did was offer my unwavering love and support even while she broke your heart time and time again. So you should take note and leave me, my relationship and my mate alone!” Never had you yelled at Rhys. Often you yelled for him, about him, but never at him. This left everyone in a state of shock. “If that is how you feel then I suggest you find somewhere else to stay that isn’t one of my houses and leave me out of your life. I do not want to hear you come crying to me when he inevitably breaks your heart.” No longer was this the voice of a high lord but the voice of somebody who didn’t have a single ounce of care to give. Darting back and forth between his eyes you saw nothing but cold indifference. This was the male you saw at Hewn city. Never did you think the look would be directed at you. “I want you gone.” His voice left no room for argument. “Now.” 
Stepping back you scoff at who the male standing before you has become. Without another look you track back to Azriel’s side. Gently you grab his hand giving it a small squeeze before winnowing the two of you away. 
The smell of wind and salt and ocean was the first thing to hit your senses. The strong midday sun was the next. Finally after a few slow blinks you are able to recognize your apartment that resided in the summer court.  “I’m sorry you had to witness that.” you whisper quietly while releasing his hand. “Don’t apologize, please. This is all my fault.” With a tight lipped smile you look up to see Azriel is already looking at you. Once again your eyes dart over his face causing a frown to pull at your lips. Wrapping your hand around his wrist you tug gently, careful to keep your grip loose in fear of hurting him more, “Let's get you cleaned up. You look like you got into a fight with a depressed rainbow.” The sound of your mates laugh rings out against the wall of the hallway and into the bathroom. Softly you pat the edge of the tub in a silent order for him to take place there, which he does. 
While rummaging around the drawers and cabinets you feel the weight of Azriel’s stare against your back causing a shiver to run down your spine. You were used to being under the watchful eyes of Az but this time it was different. This time it was as his mate. “You're staring.” you mumble while struggling to read the weathered label on the bottle you possessed. “I know.” The slightly tired tone of his voice causes goosebumps to rise along your arms. That was definitely something you could get used to. Wordlessly you turn around and walk two steps to be in front of him again and summon a stool to sit on. Sighing once again as you take in the damage your brother inflicted upon your mate. Seeing him like this made you want to cry. Blood, bruises and all things that came with knowing warriors rarely phased you, even seeing your brother beaten up was barely cause for concern unless it was dire. But there had always been something about seeing Azriels body covered in anything other than his tattoos made you feel deeply emotional. Now you guessed you knew why. 
A warm hand gently cupped your cheek while wiping away the tears you hadn’t noticed escape your eyes. “Hey. I’m ok. I’ve been dealt much worse.” The gentle worried sound of his voice causes another tear to slip past your lashes. “How did you know I was worried about you?” You watch as he wipes the other rouge tear while quietly laughing. “Well for as long as I have known you, you have always cried when I get hurt, even if it's something like a paper cut.” he chuckles again. “So there is that but I can feel how worried you are through the bond.” subconsciously you feel your eyebrows raise “Right the bond.” you mutter. Pulling the cork off of one of the many vials you shrug “I’ll try to be as gentle as I can be.” you state before motioning for him to move his arms so you can lather the salve upon most if not all of his abdomen. 
Nothing about this was new to you, often times after missions or just a little too rough of a training session with Cassian, Azriel would seek you out in hope you would help aid him back to health and each time without any complaint, you did. “I guess we are going to have to talk about the obvious huh?” you tried to make it sound like it was no big deal, just like any other conversation you would have with the shadowsinger. “Only when you are ready.” Silence once again followed in the room while you held Az’s jaw in your hand, keenly aware of the pressure you apply “This whole being mates thing is weird isn’t it?” you ask while applying more of the salve on the bruise that covered his whole cheek that connected to his eye. “Why would it be weird?” Shrugging you don’t answer, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand. After a few beats of silence do you answer. “I have always just been Rhysands little sister you had to deal with. You get him, you get me kind of deal. And now we're mates and everything is super awkward and my brother probably is going to try and kill you the next time you step into his sight.”  Azriel nods while you speak but never interrupts. “You have never just been his little sister to me. You have always been your own person, capable of your own choices, capable of living your own life how you see fit. You have always been you. And I would pick you over him any day of the week-” “You're just saying that because we're mates”  You cut him off. With a shake of his head he continues. “While that may be true, the mates part that is. I would always choose you no matter what. Because you are everything I could ever need wrapped into one person. And yes your brother may want to kill me right now, but I am sure that will fade…..eventually. If not then I can handle another round with him.”
“You were holding back on him weren’t you?” Azriel shakes his head back and forth before finally giving up the answer “Yeah I was holding back” his sheepish tone has a laugh falling from your lips. “That's kinda what I figured.” Comfortable silence surrounds the room while the two of you observe each other. Finally Az breaks the silence. “You're right, you know? About how it was wrong of me to hide this from you. I should have said something as soon as I knew. And I will never try to give you  an excuse as to why I did what I did but I will give you a reason. After  we came home after the war and you were standing there I felt the bond in that moment. But all I could think about is what we just came back from and how I never wanted you to go through the fear and pain and worry that Feyre had experienced with Rhys. You of all people know what I do. Who I’ve hurt and those who are waiting to get their revenge. And the thought of you being subjected to that scared me in ways I’ve never felt before. I would do anything to keep you safe, even if that meant keeping you away from me. I promise that I was going to tell you but I was scared of the danger it would put you in or if you would even want to accept the bond and things of that nature.” You didn’t need the bond to tell that Azriel was being sincere, you could see it in his eyes, in the way he was looking at you. The silent pleading for you to believe him. “And I swear I did not plan on your cousin being the person to tell you.” You had stopped picking up the mess you made of vials and tins full of salves and tonics. “I can’t lie and say that the fact you hid this from me doesn’t hurt but I understand where you are coming from, well at least as best as I can. As for Morrigian being the person to tell me…yeah I would agree but hey at least we can say it was more unique than anyone else?” The rise and fall of Azriels chest as he laughed at your confused tone brought you a sense of peace that you didn’t even know you needed. “But,um, you know that I would never reject you right? I would never do that to you or our bond. I want this. As long as you want this.” you taper off at the end suddenly overcome with shyness. 
The smile that spread across the male's face was slow moving at first but within seconds it was in full bloom. “Baby you can’t be serious. You know that I have been waiting for this my whole life and now that I know it's going to be with you makes me want this that much more. I want this, I want you more than I want anything else.” At his confession you felt heat run up your neck and make your cheeks your home. Looking down at the rings on your fingers you begin to fidget with them nervously. At the nervous habit Azriel pulled the stool you were perched on closer to him. Gently he cups both of your cheeks between his hands forcing you to look at him. “I know that you're nervous sweetheart. This is a big change for the both of us, but you know me. I am the same Az that you have always known. You just get to know me in a different way now.” The blush that rested upon your cheeks deepened at the implication of knowing him in a much different way. Once again this caused a laugh to tumble out of your mates lips. Nothing went unnoticed by him. “Can I kiss you?” The thought had been bouncing around in your head for what felt like forever and how that you had asked you swore your heart could give out from how fast it was beating. “It’s cute that you asked. Just for future reference you never need to ask.” You couldn’t get a response out before he pulled your face closer to him and finally let your lips touch his.
This was not the first time you have kissed Azriel but this was unlike anything you have ever experienced. Suddenly it felt like your entire being was on fire but in the best way possible. All the racing thoughts disappeared and all you could think about was the feeling of his lips on yours. You would give up oxygen in return for being able to kiss him without ever needing to pull away for air. Everything in life up until this point was all to learn of your bond with him and you would do it over a thousand times if necessary. “Wow” the word barely made it past your lips before they were smashed by the lips of the spymaster. Finally after the both of you were thoroughly out of breath did you finally pull away. A giggle ruptures from within  you causing Azriel to simply raise an eyebrow in question. “I’ve never seen you look like this.” That was aside from the bruising painting his face, you had also never seen him like that. Pushing the stool away from him you stand and grab his hand pulling him to see himself in the mirror. There you watched as he took in the flush cheeks and swollen lips with dazed eyes. After a few seconds he started to take in your appearance. At first you didn’t even think about how you looked but with those piercing eyes directed at you, you bowed your head in an attempt to hide just how much of an effect kissing Azriel had on you. 
Apparently your mate decided to spare you more embarrassment. After taking in a long look around your apartment and you are sure, he was also given a report on the rest of the unfamiliar place from his shadows. Did he finally speak. “Since when did you get an apartment in the summer court? Also how did none of us find out?” smirking you gesture for him to follow you back to the living room of your home away from home. “You my spymaster are not the only one capable of keeping secrets, as for when? It's almost been two years.”  Stopping before two french doors you pull them open walking out onto the balcony revealing the view of the ocean from your little slice of peace along the shore. “I always wondered where it was you ran off to and now I know.” The sound of your laugh is overshadowed by the sound of the waves crashing against the beach below you. Walking toward your mate you wrap your arms around his waist careful not to cause any more pain and rest your head against his chest right over his heart. The feeling of his arms wrapping around you brought so much peace to your soul. 
It was later in the evening when you spoke up for the first time in almost an hour. You were laying in bed with Azriel resting on top of you. His head on your stomach and your hands in his hair. “Azzie?” The sound of his name pulled him from the realm of sleep. “Yes, my love?” His response is just as quiet as your question was. “Do you think Rhys hates me now?” looking up at the ceiling you pause getting lost in the throws of your argument. “He said to leave him out of my life. He has never said something like that to me before. And the worst part is I think he actually meant it. Do you think I made the right choice by standing up to him?” This isn’t your first time fighting with your brother but never in four hundred years has he said something so harsh to you before. And to go as far as to say he didn’t want you in his life was heartbreaking. You fear this may be the point of no return. Sudden movement on your stomach causes you to look down. The sight you are met with is beautiful. Azriel placed his hand over your abdomen resting his chin upon his hand. Stirking hazel eyes were already looking at you when you pulled your focus from the ceiling to the male in front of you. “I think he needs some time to process everything. I also think he said some things he doesn’t mean. You are the light of his life. Give him some time eventually he will come around.” The tear that fell from your eye was sudden and before you could wipe it away a shadow did the act for you. “I don’t know Az. I don’t think I mean much to him anymore let alone light up his life. What am I going to do?” The more tears that fell were met with an equally compassionate shadow fiercely whipping away stray tears. “I’m not too sure I agree with that but no matter what we will face this together. I promise.” Lifting his head he moves his arm closer to you and offers his pinky for you to wrap your pinky around. Azriel had never broken a pinky promise he made with you.
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seriouslysnape · 1 year
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hello! can i get a severus lazy sunday morning with the reader? 🖤
Severus Snape x Fem! Reader Tags: None. Word Count: 1.1k "You can stay right here. I'll call you when it's ready."
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It was the pattering of rain on the roof that initially woke Severus up. It drummed on the house and sprinkled across the windows. The trees outside rustled from the wind that whistled outside. He let out a slow exhale at the sound of the low rumbles of thunder rolling off in the distance.
Three days of solid rain was more than enough, and frankly, he was missing the sunshine. Nonetheless, there wasn't a thing he could do about the weather, so he supposed that griping about it wouldn't do him any good.
After all, it was hard to complain when there was a beautiful woman curled up next to him.
Severus was a bit of a stirrer in the mornings. He wasn't typically one to lounge around in bed, typically getting up and on his feet the moment that his eyes opened. But you, on the other hand, liked to gradually wake up instead of getting a fast start to your day. If there wasn't an immediate reason to get up, then you were more than likely going to stay snuggled in for a little while.
With that being said, he tried to keep his movements to a minimum to avoid waking you. He could bear staying wrapped up in the sheets if it meant you getting some extra rest. He was perfectly content with holding you close and watching the weather rage on outside through the window.
Unfortunately, he couldn't control the volume and intensity of the thunder that accompanied the rain. One booming crack of thunder spooked you awake with a hard flinch and a light gasp. The sudden reaction even made Severus jump a bit, his arms holding you tighter as a gesture of protection.
"It's all right," He nuzzled his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss just above the tip of your ear. "You're safe. It's just a storm."
His morning voice always sent a chill down your back. It was deeper than usual, groggy and sluggish. You relaxed at the sound of it, releasing a relieved sigh when you realized that your house wasn't being attacked by some outside force.
"Mm. Still raining I assume?" Your eyes fluttered closed again in an attempt to slow the hard thumping of your heart.
"Unfortunately." He grumbled, his focus on you instead of the storm.
"It's not all bad. I've had you all to myself for three days straight." You giggled, the sound of your laugh spreading a warmth over his chest.
"Darling, has there ever been a time where you didn't?" He answered.
He pushed some fallen strands of hair out of your eyes, a small smile appearing on his features as he admired your calm expression.
"Generally, no. But sometimes the duties of being a professor steals you away."
He couldn't deny that. Just being a professor could be overly demanding -- adding in being the head of Slytherin and some occasional administrative responsibilities could most definitely dry up the well of his free time.
Before he met you, he spent pretty much every night at the school in his personal chambers. He didn't see the need in traveling home every night (as easy and convenient as it might've been) if he had no real reason to. He spent all of his time at Hogwarts from September to June.
But after meeting you and having the pleasure and blessing of your lives intertwining, he had to learn how to balance his work life and personal life. Now, he traveled home almost every single night, unless he just couldn't get away from his office and/or classroom.
He did everything that he could to ensure that you were his top priority...although, sometimes he still fell short.
"We still have well over a month before the term starts," He remarked. "Plenty of time before my schedule gets overly full."
"What's on your schedule until then?" You asked, eyes opening just enough to peer up at him.
He let out a low chuckle when he kissed your temple, the vibrations running down your side and causing a brief tingle in your toes. He exhaled a satisfied hum when one of your legs settled between his.
"You."
Another roll of thunder rumbled, yet not quite as vigorous this time. You smiled at him, which caused a tint of a blush to appear on his cheek.
"Doesn't sound too busy then." You ran your index finger's knuckle across the apple of his cheek with a feather-like touch.
"Just the way I like it." He smirked.
A round of silence followed. The two of you were just enjoying each other's presence and taking advantage of the fact that you had absolutely nothing to do...not to mention having a great excuse not to come up with something to occupy your time.
The rain was relentless after all. Who in their right mind would want to go out in this kind of weather? It was a perfect setup for a day inside.
There were plenty of things to do around the house. The only problem was that you had already been doing them for three days now.
You could only take a crack at raiding and reading your entire library for so long. The house was spotless and lemony fresh, so cleaning was crossed off your list. You were looking forward to trying a new recipe for dinner, but you assumed that you still had an entire day to get through first.
"What time is it?" You asked, realizing that it could've been noon for all you knew.
Severus raised his head just enough to peek over you to get a glimpse of the alarm clock on the bedside table on your side.
"6:47." He answered.
"Oh, that is so early," You gawked. "I'm too awake to go back to sleep though."
"Shall I make us some breakfast then?" He suggested. "You can stay right here. I'll call you when it's ready."
"Pancakes? Coffee?" You asked, a glittering admiration for the man talking sweet to you shining over your face.
"Of course," He nodded. "Whatever you want, angel."
He peppered kisses across your nose and down your neck, bubbly giggles and squeaks sounding out from your chest. You managed to squeal out an "I love you" through laughter and shrills.
He couldn't understand how someone like you could love him so much. He liked to think that he had done something in his life to deserve some like you. But in reality, he knew that he was just plain lucky.
"I love you," He returned the endearment before whipping the covers off of the bed, ignoring your hiss of disapproval. "Pancakes are on the way."
Once he was on his feet, he pulled the covers back over you, chuckling at the way you shimmied further down with a gleeful whimper. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving to whip up the best stack of pancakes you had ever tasted.
"Enjoy the rain, my love."
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caxde · 7 months
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Any Steve hurt/comfort
I hope you like it anon! thanks for the request! x
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Steve harrington x roomate!reader hurt/comfort ~1.5k anxeity attack tw!
It shouldn’t have happened, not really. 
You were in your room, laying on your bed. There was nothing wrong. Everything was fine. 
Maybe that was the problem. 
Everything is fine, and nothing is great. Or good. Just fine. Suddenly the ceiling seemed to get closer to your body, but you knew you  weren’t moving, it is not possible to get closer, i can not float, you tried to tell yourself. 
It doesn’t seem to work. 
It also doesn’t help that you can feel your heart beating harder, and faster and louder deep inside your chest. 
A loud drum hidden somewhere inside you that is making you go mad, you need to turn it off, but you don’t really know how to. 
And the pressure starts. 
The place your lungs occupy is getting tighter, smaller, heavier. 
Breath. Please. Breath. 
It doesn’t work. 
Your body starts to curl up, your hands buried in your hair, a repetitive pattern, something to occupy your hands. You needed something, a distraction. 
You knew Steve was sleeping. You’d said goodnight to him half an hour ago, when he closed his bedroom door. You knew that if you started crying, or weeping he’d hear you, the walls of your apartment were thin, and you didn’t want him to find out like that. 
Truth be told, you didn’t want him to know at all. 
But at the same time, there was this little voice, a broken whimper that begged you to ask for help. 
Maybe that was what finally broke you. Maybe your body couldn’t take the restriction it had on itself anymore. Maybe you just couldn’t take it anymore. 
For whatever reason, you find that your body has found itself against the wall.
 And that the sound of the impact was enough to get his attention.
 And if not, the broken whisper of his name was. 
Truth be told, he did hesitate for a moment. 
He heard the thump and thought that something might have fallen out of your decorated walls, but as soon as he heard the way your voice sounded, he didn’t waste a second. 
His body crossed the threshold of your door before he was even conscient of it. 
He kneeled on your floor, where your bed met the floor, and looked up at you. He wasn’t sure what to do next, what to say. He stayed there, waiting for you to look up, your head looking down at your bedsheets. 
“Hey.” He whispered, afraid that his voice would startle you. 
“Sorry.” You muttered, your voice hoarse and raspy. 
“Don’t” He begged. His hand touched your leg, a soft gesture that made your head shift, concentrating on it, and the way he just layed it there, a pattern that he started to draw. 
“It’s fine.” You didn’t even try to mask your lie, not even a little bit. Then again, how could you when tears were coming out, a slow river of them. 
“It’s not.” He shook his head, the way his hair moved hypnotizing you for a second. Your hand found his, your fingers anxiously playing with his. 
“I don’t…” You were struggling to stop crying. Your face felt hot in contrast to the cold tears that travelled down your cheeks, your vision blurred, Steve appearing as a far away object. Even when you felt him right there. It felt for a moment -however brief- that you were dying, and you weren’t totally sure what had caused it, maybe it was from having your emotions bottled up for so long, focusing on curse work, and essays and cleaning so you wouldn’t think about it, I’ll deal with it later had become a new mantra for the last weeks. Now seemed to finally be later, and having Steve in the same room as you only made them come out rushing faster, like an angry flood leaving you a crumpled mess on your bed. “I’m sorry. Just go.” You begged, feeling sorry for yourself, and what was worse, that he had to see you like that. So fragile. So weak. So vulnerable. 
Steve knew that what was worrying you at that moment was the fact that he had caught you falling apart, and he knew you didn’t like it when people saw you like this. Vulnerable. 
“I’m not going anywhere, honey.” 
Finally, your eyes met his. 
And the softness of them, and his touch, made you reconnect with your body. Slowly. Like a feather falling. Steve knew that there wasn’t a lot he could do besides staying there. Waiting for you to open up, wanting you to do so, but knowing that if he forced you to do so, it would only get worse. So he waited. As your breathing became more regular, and your chest wasn’t heaving up and down as fast. 
His head was still looking up at you, the concern was apparent, but so was the unconditional love he seemed to have for you. 
“D’you want me to come up?” He asked. He didn’t waste any time, as soon as he saw you nodding his body was on your mattress, and his arms opened. 
Your body fell onto his, and he wrapped you up in the softest warmest hug you had ever experienced, or at least, the one that you had been needing for a long time. 
You stayed like that for some time. Your ear pressed to his chest, hearing the way his heart beated, and his relaxed breathing, it let your body follow him. Finally relaxing, melting on the spot in some sort of way. His hands played with your hair, as he hummed a song you didn’t quite recognise. Though he had heard you sing it countless times. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” 
“I’m just really tired…” He knew that wasn’t the end of your sentence, so he gave you space for you to organise your thoughts. Your breathing was now calm, but your voice was still a whisper. “ I just… I’m always chasing. And for once, I just… I want someone who cares, no matter what. Someone who will always be by my side, someone that can be patient with me, someone that won’t find me annoying when I’m crying, or lashing out, or stressed, or… Fuck. I just want something that’ll love me, as much as I love them.” 
Steve smiled. And left a kiss on your forehead, leaving his lips to rest there for a second longer. 
He waited for you to look up at him, as you knew you would. Even if your eyes were redder, and your cheeks were flushed after crying, Steve still thought you were the prettiest girl he had even seen. 
“I…” He hid his nervousness with a chuckle, and a stupid grin that made your heart skip a beat, even if you tried for it to not do it. “If you wanted to, I could try to be that someone.” 
“Steve?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Don’t make fun of me.” You begged, not really knowing how to manage what he was trying to tell you. Not really knowing if you could believe him right now. “If you’re just saying that to make me feel better, please don’t.” It wasn’t harsh, not really. He knew that it was a horrible moment for a stupid love confession, but he couldn’t keep acting as though he didn’t absolutely love you. As if he wouldn’t do anything you’d ask him to. 
“I’m not.” He reassured you, his arms still tightly wrapped you. His fingers had been stroking you, a soft, sweet caress that let you know that he wasn’t lying. “I’ve had the stupidest crush on you for so long.” He admits with a laugh. His smile grows deeper once he sees the way your eyes shine with hope and recognition. “I knew it’s weird to tell you this after you cried, but… You are one of the most lovable people I know. And you do deserve all those things.” He nodded along his words, his voice was also a whisper now, the intimate moment growing fonder in both of your hearts. “We can talk about it tomorrow if it’s too much now.” 
You nodded. And stayed as close as you were. Your eyes looking fondly at him, hope apparent on both of your faces. 
“Will you stay?” 
“Anything for you, honey.” 
He left one last kiss on your forehead, and you returned the gesture, a soft kiss on his cheek. 
He had to be careful, if he didn’t control himself he could never stop kissing you. 
He laid on your mattress, his body touching the wall, his arms opened for you, waiting for you to make yourself comfortable. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, as your body wrapped around him. Your leg hugging his body. You kissed his chest. Thank you, it said. 
He kissed your hand before intertwining your fingers. You’re welcome, he responded. 
-
if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3
requests! are open
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hotpinkboots · 11 days
Note
I just read your Aunty Bella fictions and I LOVE IT!!!
There is so little soft!Bellatrix content😭.
Could you maybe wright a fic where her niece gets injured and Bellatrix goes ballistic. I feel like she is incredibly protective and fierce when it comes to her Sister and Niece 🥺
~~~~~
~"ᴀᴠᴀᴅᴀ ᴋᴇᴅᴀᴠʀᴀ"~
(Bellatrix x Niece!Reader)
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I genuinely had the time of my life writing this, I haven't written action in awhile! Thank you for the request, darling :D
Summary: Bellatrix gets revenge for her niece.
Note(s): There's a bit of comfort at the end because Bella loves her niece <<<3
Warning(s): Abuse, violence, implied murder, angst, Reader is in a toxic relationship, Bellatrix takes care of it dw. Don't like it? Don't read it. You are responsible for your own content consumption.
~~~~~
You hadn't said a word of your abusive partner to your mother. There were some things that felt awkward to discuss with Narcissa. It wasn't that you didn't trust your mother, it's just that, well...she was your mother. She was too mature to see things from your level, and while her advice most definitely would've been helpful and rational, it made you feel more seen to talk to somebody with more fire in her eyes about the situation.
But, at the moment, all you wanted was to lie in bed and cry. Your body hurt- most of all, the right side of your face. The person who was supposed to be your partner had struck you. There was a painful heat in your chest, your heart had a dull ache, squeezing and thumping in your ribcage. Your brain was in a state of panic and overdrive, signaling to your body that it was in danger, causing your hands to tremble. When you arrived to your room, you shut the door, changed, and flopped down in bed, defeated and tired.
An hour later, you heard gentle taps upon your door, it sounded as though somebody had drummed their nails quietly rather than knocked. You responded with a weary, "Come in."
The door opened to reveal Bellatrix trotting in. She looked disheveled, as though she had just returned from a night full of chaos and bloody murder, eyes manic with delight. "Hi, darling!-"
Her mouth snapped shut the moment she saw the poor state you were in.
You began to greet her.
She cut you off.
"Who did it."
Oh, damn, your black eye. You didn't want her to find out. Your hand quickly reached up to cover it, but your Aunt was quicker. She caught your wrist and stared down at you with her expression stone cold.
"Tell me who did it," she breathed. Bellatrix forced the corners of her lips to twitch upwards into a smile, a failed attempt to reassure you. Her eyes were cold and full of nothing but pure, seething hatred for who dared to lay a hand on her niece.
You suddenly understood why she was one of the most feared witches in history. Although her fury wasn't directed at you, the way she was looking at you made you feel as though she was about to hunt you for sport. You swallowed nervously and averted your gaze. "My... partn-"
Partner.
Bellatrix didn't need to hear the rest, that answer was all she needed. She let go of your wrist, turned on heel, and swiftly stormed out of your room.
...Then stormed right back when she realized she didn't know where to look for them.
"Which house are they in?" She demanded bluntly, nudging your chin so she could see your swollen eye. Bellatrix continued to question you until she had a clear idea of how your partner looked. She kissed your forehead and grabbed your hand, pulling you up and dragging you along behind her. You stumbled after her, brain fuzzy and confused. "Aunt Bella, please, just- let it go-"
"NO!"
Bellatrix screamed. Her hoarse howl frightened you. You flinched back, hands protectively covering your heart in fear.
Oh, poor baby. Bellatrix softened, and quickly grabbed your cheeks to press an uncountable amount of kisses to your forehead in apology. She pulled away and gave a gentle pat to your left cheek. "Let me fix it, lovey, you're alright."
She shooed you away, telling you to go and ice your eye, that she would take care of everything for you. What choice did you have? You mentally couldn't handle anything else tonight. You kissed your Aunt on the cheek, and left to take care of your injury and rest. You fidgeted nervously. What horrid crime would your Aunt commit now? Usually, you cheered her on. Tonight, you knew that your so-called "partner", was in terrible danger.
~~~~~
Meanwhile, Bellatrix was on the prowl. She apparated as close to Hogwarts as she could. Her insides felt as though they were tearing each other apart with violent, boiling rage. It was difficult for her to stay quiet. She wanted to lash out, claw apart the walls with her bare hands, shatter every window, and stab every student.
She quietly made her way in, though she didn't care if she was caught. As if they think they could do anything about me, anyway, she thought arrogantly with a scoff under her breath. Her heels clicked quietly on the floor as she made her way through Hogwarts to the Ravenclaw common room. The paintings suddenly began to awaken and make a terrible commotion to alert of Bellatrix's intrusion.
Bellatrix didn't care- she was on autopilot, numb to anything around her, driven by revenge, a mindless killing machine. She crept in, tearing open the drapes of each bed and staring intensely at each sleeping student, until she spotted somebody who looked like the exact image of who you had described.
"You," she whispered, raising her wand. She reared her head back, her mess of curls falling over her back. Students groggily began lifting their heads when they heard the commotion of the paintings, followed by quick footsteps running down the hall, most definitely the Professors on their way to stop whatever madness she was to conjure upon them.
Bellatrix was quicker. Her lips drew back in an animalistic snarl. This child didn't deserve to die quickly. That was too merciful. She wanted to see their eyes grow dazed with agony. She wanted to see them shuddering, writhing and sobbing.
"Crucio," she sneered.
Students began to scatter. Dumbledore ran into the room, wand at the ready. Bellatrix breathed heavily, unable to contain her wretched satisfaction. She had to finish the job quickly, before she was confronted. The student who used to be your former partner had come to meet their demise. Bellatrix's tone was guttural, dripping with raw wrath. The walls themselves seemed to tremble as she screamed,
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
~~~~~
You were curled up in an armchair, a cold compress over your swollen shut eye. Your expression was vacant, thinking hard on the lingering pain and fear that bit at your heart. How could somebody who loved you hurt you in such a way? How could-
"(Y/N)? Sweetie?"
You looked over your shoulder wearily.
There stood your Aunt, wearing the biggest grin, arms outstretched towards you. She bent over and hugged you, kissing the top of your head a few times. You leaned into her warmth, reaching one arm up to return the hug, your other still holding the ice pack against your eye. "Hi," you greeted hoarsely.
Bellatrix pulled back and squeezed your shoulder lovingly. "They're gone, darling, you're safe. I took care of it."
You frowned. "What do you mean, "you took care of it"?"
Bellatrix scoffed. "Don't be daft, you know what I mean! They're dead, silly!"
Of course. What did you expect? While you felt a brief pang of guilt for the death of your former partner, it was quickly put out by satisfaction. Your face brightened. "Thank you!"
Bellatrix gave a delighted hum in response, ruffling your hair. She was already planning on teaching you a certain spell so you could learn to take care of situations like this yourself one day.
~~~~~
FAMILY BONDING TIME WITH MURDER 🤩!!!11!1 Might write a fic following this one where Bella teaches the Reader to use crucio and avada kedavera bc we love evil families here
Request Guidelines!
~Love, HotPinkBoots
Likes < Reblogs! Thank you for the support :D!
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twola · 9 months
Text
Devil's Backbone - Owanjila V
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Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC/Reader POV 
Tags: Longfic, Slow Burn, Smut (18+), Violence, Canon-Typical Injuries
Limpany’s burning was a lot more than meets the eye. Deception, greed, and murder follow everyone touched by Leviticus Cornwall. A story where the Van der Linde gang gets even more inescapably involved in Cornwall’s dealings, with the survivor of the massacre at the heart of it all. Slow burn. Pre-Blackwater and beyond.
Owanjila V: Respite in the Valley
After the return to Owanjila, settling into a routine proves to be difficult for several members of the gang.
cw: smut, post-traumatic stress, heartache (a lot of that last one)
➵ AO3 Link ➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ Previous | ➵ Next
You awaken softly in the morning light, not all at once, like the blooming sun far in the eastern horizon. Birdsong wafts through the window, even through the pane of somewhat cloudy glass, the chirps of tanagers and cardinals fill the air.
You stretch your back in the bed, blinking as you feel the rumble of your bedmate behind you, the long, warm line of a body curled up next to yours, an arm thrown around your waist.
Chapped lips touch the back of your neck and you smile against your pillow. A calloused hand moves under the sheet from your waist up, up, to cradle your breast, thumb brushing across your nipple as it hardens. 
A breathy moan escapes you as you press yourself backward against him, the both of you bare under the sheet, skin running hot, and against your rear, you can feel him stirring. 
“Ruth…” A sleep-hoarse groan of your name is whispered into your ear as the hand slinks downward to the meeting of your thighs, and your legs open of their own accord to welcome him in.
“Mmm…” You moan as strong fingers press against your folds, parting them and tracing the seam of your body. You jolt as he finds that little nub of your pleasure, circling it as you begin to pant. 
He’s thick and ready with arousal behind you, and your slick begins to come, readying yourself for him as you press your small hand over his own, guiding him to press harder against you, then guiding him the blessed few inches from your clit back to your entrance. He slides a long, thick finger inside you and you do not even attempt to suppress the high, flighty moan, accompanied by his low one as he begins to work his finger in and out of you. His hips press against your rear in time with his thrusts.
“God damn, Ruth.”  He groans into your ear, pressing his middle finger into your cunt and you mewl, grasping the sheet for dear life between your fingers.
“P-please.” You whimper, feeling as if you’re going to burst, that you need this burning desire quenched in your very core.
“I gotcha, I’ve gotcha-” He pants, extracting his hand and moving it to tilt your hip, pressing his cock to your weeping entrance and gently pushing inside.
You moan outright at the feeling of being filled, stuttering breath on your neck from behind you as he begins to thrust.
“God,”  You cry out, causing him to groan aloud as he moves his pelvis against yours, hand tight over the curve of your hip.
“Ruth… Ruth. Here we’ll build our town,” He rasps, his voice hoarse as he pants with exertion, “Here we’ll build our family.”
Wait…
His arms clutch around you as you stiffen, unable to turn around, feeling like you’re swimming in molasses. Your heart thumps like a war drum in your chest, less from arousal and more from the sense of dread building up in your belly.
He whispers in your ear, throwing his hips against yours in finality, driving himself into you and shuddering.
“Right here in Limpany.”
You rocket up from your bedroll, hand splayed over your sternum, gasping for air. You look around, the camp on the hillside is still dark, and the other women are all still fast asleep in a line next to you under the protective awning. A campfire several feet away glows softly, down to embers before the breaking of the dawn. Far to the east, the sky begins to burn red.
You get up, grabbing your checked shawl and wrapping it over your shoulders to stave off the morning chill, harsh once you shed the blankets of your bedroll and quietly pace away from where the women sleep. Your bare feet collect morning dew as you descend down the hillside, unable to stop the flow of tears down your cheeks, trying at least to stifle the sob trying to claw itself from your throat. You try to ignore the damp feeling of the seam of your bloomers against your skin.
You’re breathing heavily, eyes overflowing by the time you reach the lakeside, bare feet freezing as cold lake water flows over them.
The sob you were trying to hold back works its way out, and your shoulders heave as you wrap your arms around yourself.  All of this, the death and the misery and being alone, for Christ’s sake, why can’t you just wake up from this nightmare?
You weep, standing there ankle-deep in the cool waters of Owanjila. You weep for your child, your husband, your friends. You weep for your former life, never to be lived again.
Above the sound of your shuddering breath, unheard by you, a match is struck in the night to light a cigarette. Arthur Morgan stands back on the hillside, observing your shaking shoulders and the soft sound of your cries.
He thinks of how he wrapped himself around your small frame, how you sank back into him, and how he seemed to assuage your tears. How you looked at him like he was some heaven-sent savior pulling you from the fire. He wants to walk down there and draw you in, to pat down your sleep-addled hair, and whisper words that could tamp your shaking shoulders.
But nothing good can come of this desire - Micah’s words slither into his mind like a snake, ready to strike at the remnants of his beating heart. 
You ain’t different than any of us - rotten to the core. And all you want is her sweet little cunt.
No, Arthur Morgan simply takes a drag of his cigarette, nothing good would come of it indeed.
-
The widow Adler is in a fugue state of grief. Staring blankly ahead, eyes red and bloodshot, there along the hill overlooking Owanjila.
Fortunately, the girls were able to scrape enough clothing together for her. Mary Beth tries to offer her coffee, but it is two days before she even accepts. She gazes out at the lake, silent in her suffering, not speaking to any of the other women who try to keep her company. Even Grimshaw gives her a wide berth as her bruises and cuts heal.
You will certainly admit to yourself it is far too long before you approach the woman alone, her silent stoicism near standoffish as she does not acknowledge your presence as you sit down on the hill next to her, some yards away from the shoreline. 
“Missus Adler-”
“Sadie.”  She croaks, not turning toward you at all.
“...Sadie,” You are corrected, and pull your knees up toward your chest to loop your arms around them, “I know there’s nothing any of us can say to make it better or get your husband back-”
“My Jakey - he was a good man- and they butchered ‘im.” Sadie’s voice goes low, hoarse, and angry as you can tell she is gritting her teeth, “God damn O’Driscolls…”
You swallow, staring ahead at the still waters of the lake. Sadie sniffles next to you, wiping angrily at her eyes.
“Dutch thinks it was O’Driscolls that killed my husband… I never saw who did it…” You say softly, your chin on your drawn-up knees, not trying to discount her loss, but trying to establish a connection through your own.
Sadie sniffles again, her jaw setting hard as she swats at her eyes, remaining quiet at your admission. Her ill-fitting clothing and bruised face are a reflection of her frightful state in the morning light. 
Several moments of silence sit between the two of you before you stretch out your legs again to get up.
You stand up, dusting leaves and dirt off your skirt. “I know it isn’t going to change anything, but I’m here, Missus Adler, if you ever need anything.”
Sadie doesn’t reply, staring off at the lake once again. You hold in the sigh you feel like letting loose until you are far enough away that she won’t hear you. Walking back up the hill, you move straight towards the tent to the side of the camp, just past the bubbling coffeepot over the main campfire.
You let another sigh out as you sit down in an empty chair, rubbing at your eyes tiredly before turning to look at the person occupying the next seat over. Hosea inhales deeply over his steaming cup of coffee as he sits in the rickety old chair next to you. “My dear…”
You frown, looking back toward Sadie as she stares off into the distance, northward into the Grizzlies, to the life she used to have. You know that stare, should you travel back toward the ice-blue waters of the Dakota, you would have that same grief in your eyes.
“I was like that… the first few days.” 
“Better than I was when my Bessie passed,” Hosea continues to sip his coffee, “Stayed drunk for the better part of a year.”
You frown, looking down at your hands. It was humbling, though you knew that certainly, you weren’t the only widow in the world, that you are now surrounded by people who have keenly felt that kind of loss. Part of you feels silly for your breakdown the other morning, thankful that no one saw that moment of weakness.
“Missus Adler will have to work things through her own way,” Hosea continues, “All we can do is try to offer her some kind of solace.”
“Indeed.” You reply, watching forlornly as you see her shoulders crumble into sobs.
-
“Sure you don’t have anything to tell us about Colm?” Dutch eyes the prisoner with disdain. The poor man, unkempt and unshaven is a frightful mess, terrified and stumbling against the rope tying him uncomfortably to a tree along the edge of the camp.
“Jus- jus that he’s hittin’ the train in Ambarino - I s-swear, that’s all I know.” He sputters, wide-eyed and fearful, surrounded by men who look like they’d love to torture him in any bodily way possible. 
“I dunno, Dutch,” Arthur blows smoke in the young man’s face from his cigarette, “He ain’t entirely convincin’ me.”
Dutch runs a hand over his mustache, exaggerating the idea that he is mulling over the prisoner’s fate, “Bill, what do you think?”
The slide of metal on metal pierces the air as the prisoner’s wide eyes move from Dutch to the larger, burly man beside him.
“I think he don’t need some parts on ‘im, Dutch.” Bill replies, the large tongs in his hands loudly opening and shutting.
“Please- please, I don’t know anything more!” He screeches as Bill gets closer.
Dutch gleams with a predatory glare.
“That’s a shame there, O’Driscoll. I am running out of reasons to stop ol’ Mister Williamson from gelding you.”
-
“You’re goddamn lucky you have people that give a shit whether or not you die.”
John wishes he could escape. But he’s bedridden still, nearly a week after the journey down the mountains and his unfortunate run-in with enemies of the canine variety. The long ride did his body no favors, keeping him in the cot in the sick tent for days longer. His stitches itch across his face, and his bruised and bloody body still wracks in pain when he tries to move.
Abigail breathes out heavily in frustration as she wrings out the warm water from the rag over the steaming bowl of water set at the side of his cot. She leans over him, pulling back the blanket to expose his bruised chest.
“Hell if I need you to bathe me, you damned-”
“You smell worse than horse shit, you worthless-”
John curses aloud, lurching upward as Abigail swipes the rag across his collarbone, not exactly gently, over red and inflamed skin. 
“Jesus Christ, Abigail, that shit hurts.” He snarls up at her, and for a moment, her eyes flash with something that looks like regret before they harden again.
“Stop your bellyachin’.” Abigail sneers, and turns back to the bowl to dip the rag in the water again, muttering under her breath as she wrings it out. John’s scowl deepens as he can’t make out what she’s said.
“What now, woman?”
“You’ve got a son, John Marston. Y’cant… you can’t be goin’ off doing shit like you have a deathwish.” Abigail sighs, dabbing the rag more gently over his collarbones and shoulders.
“I ain’t doin’ anything like I’ve got some deathwish, Abigail.” He retorts, laying back on the cot and wincing as he tries to get comfortable again.
Abigail pulls the blanket down further, exposing his lean waist. John has always been skinny - half-starved and hunger panged through his difficult life.
“I told you, you don’t need to-”
“John, ain’t like I haven’t seen it before. Numerous times.” Abigail cuts him off, pulling the blanket further down his torso against his protests. He immediately looks at the pitch of the tent as the blanket moves over his hips, trying to think of anything other than Abigail stripping him down to bathe him with that rag.
“Yeah but-”
“Just be quiet. Ain’t gonna submit any of the other women to have to deal with you stinkin’ like shit.”
John wishes he could escape. He wishes he could not feel Abigail’s hands on him. He wishes he were anywhere else… and god almighty, he wishes he could see something else behind his eyes when he closes them than Abigail climbing over him like she used to.
-
Arthur grumbles to himself as the old Walker trots back up the hillside along Owanjila before the afternoon sun dips behind the cliffs. He knew better than to trust one of Micah’s leads. But no, he went along with this one - robbing a stage outside of Riggs Station - too damn close to Blackwater. And the stage had guards that Micah hadn’t planned on. 
So of course, it turned into a mess that Arthur was forced to remedy by emptying his revolver. At least the lockbox on the stage had a decent amount of cash and a large bag of jewelry. Also, Micah had the good sense to slink away to Strawberry instead of riding the whole way back to camp with him - Arthur was vexed enough as is to have spent any more time next to that snake.
The golden light of the setting sun glints off the lake as Arthur glances toward it before he pats the Walker’s mane, pulling a sugar cube from his satchel and feeding it to the horse. The horse had a good temperament - maybe Arthur wouldn’t sell him and keep him around camp and just spring for a new mount. He needed to get over toward Valentine at some point.
He swings himself down from the saddle before tying the reins of the Walker to the makeshift hitching post on the edge of the camp. Tapping the horse’s flank, Arthur grimaces as he rolls his shoulder, the tightness in it betraying his aging body. He clears his throat before readjusting the hat on his head, walking through the camp toward Dutch’s large tent and the gang’s cash box to unload his ill-gotten gains.
“Oh, Mister Morgan - do you mind if…”
The outlaw looks up to find you standing a few feet away from Dutch’s tent, fiddling with the wrist of your blouse nervously, staring at your feet.
“Missus Shaw?”
“I was wonderin’-”, You stumble, “wonderin’ if you might be able to spare a chain from that pile of jewelry you’ve got there.” You nod upwards at the large bag in his hand, hovering over the camp’s cash box.
“It’s just the chain I need, no pendant or anything.” You finally make eye contact with him and he curses himself that he finds the blush dusting your cheeks endearing.
“Course, Missus Shaw.” He places the bag down on Dutch’s table and pulls out a necklace with a delicate gold chain. Dangling it out toward you, you step closer and grasp it. You undo its clasp and slide off the pendant, a solitary pearl drop you place back in Arthur’s gloved hand. As you stick your hand into your skirt pocket, you try to ignore where this necklace came from.
Arthur tosses the pendant into the box, turning back toward you as you find what you’re looking for in your pocket.
“Thank you, Arthur. I’ll find a way to pay you back.” 
“Don’t worry abou’ it.” He says softly, his eyes on your hands as you thread the chain through something small between your fingers.
When he finally sees what you’re working with as you move to hang the chain around your neck, he feels as if he’s been shot in his chest, trying to maintain composure as you lay the gold around your neck and clasp the necklace.
A gold wedding ring adorns your throat, and your delicate fingers press over it quickly before you let your hands fall back down to your sides. The pit of his stomach opening up becomes too much to bear.
Arthur nods, stepping toward his own tent, trying desperately to escape the situation unscathed. “Missus Shaw.”
“Thank you, Mister Morgan.” You call out softly as he retreats.
By the time he reaches his tent and yanks the canvas shut, he breathes out an angry, frustrated breath out his nose as he yanks his hat from his head, throwing it on the side table next to his cot. 
Running his hand through his hair, he closes his eyes, letting out another breath that sounds suspiciously like a sigh. He looks back to the table where he set his hat. A piece of paper lies on the table. He grasps at it, unfolding what he sees as a letter, with proper, looping handwriting.
His arrow-shot chest cracks again.
Dear Arthur…
66 notes · View notes
captainpulisic · 1 year
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turned my bed into a sacred oasis - c. pulisic
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credit and thank you to my beloved miss belize for helping me with the plot & dialogue. I owe you many orange slices. not technically a sequel to this but I see this being in the same universe word count: 2.6 k gif credits to myself
they’re delicate touches as your fingers trace mindless shapes over his chest. you’re quite content in your current position, head laid on christians shoulder and a leg thrown over his. your bodies were still slightly sweaty, the sheets pooling around both your waists. you get lost tracing the lines of his tattoos, leaving an occasional kiss on his shoulder. he answers by letting out soft hums of approval.
you trace a few hearts and both your initials across his collarbones until you dip a little lower, landing where his actual heart is. feeling the low drum of his heartbeat brings a smile to your face. you flatten your palm and apply light pressure, “your hearts going kinda crazy right now.”
“yeah well in case you forgot, we literally just had sex.” he lets out a breathless laugh. there's a pinch to your bare hip and light kiss to the top of your head. there’s only sincerity when he adds, “and i’m positive my heart is always like that when i’m around you.”
you’re torn between rolling your eyes at his clicheness and kissing him silly for his romanticism. you settle with a soft whisper, “i’ve missed you.”
“missed you more.” he begins to mirror your tender touches, pressing you closer to him. soon enough, you feel one of his hands trail along your lower back while the other catches your moving hand- the sneaky one that had caused his heart to thump faster than usual. automatically, your fingers intertwine and he gives them three gentle squeezes. “and i’m so happy I get to sleep next to you, again.”
“really?” satisfied with your current predicament, you’re too comfortable in christians arms to try to look up at him. you settle with opening one eye and leaving another kiss on his shoulder.
“are you kidding me?” his hand travels to your waist, leaving another squeeze. this earns him another kiss from you. his voice has gotten softer, more timid. “I don’t think i’d be a very good boyfriend if I wasn't happy about that, y/n.” 
you feel yourself drifting to sleep, content to have christian back in your bed- both sexually and literally. snuggling deeper into his side, you don’t notice how stiff he’s gotten. 
you feel him take a deep breath, “I am a good one, right?”
your brain and body are exhausted, so you’re not really processing the conversation. you stifle a yawn and absent-mindedly ask, “a good what?”
there’s a pause before he says- well whispers, “boyfriend.”
you freeze for a moment. that’s all it takes for your mind to wake up and your eyes to fully open. 
“what?” you’re offended on his behalf, immediately sitting up. the cold air nips at you, yet you’re too startled to care. christian whines at the sudden loss of your body warmth, instantly missing your touch. he tries to coax you back into laying down, avoiding your hard stare as his arms try to ease you back into position. much to his dislike, you’re swatting these attempts away and are searching his face for some sort of explanation. you’re baffled, “why would you even ask me that? what?”
he’s looking everywhere in the room but you. 
you scoff, “of course you’re a good boyfriend, you’re an amazing one.” 
“alright, then.” he bites his lip, somberly nodding. he leans back onto the pillow, giving no further explanation.
as confused as ever, you shake his arm. he looks like he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it but you can’t let it go. minutes ago you both were happy and on some sort of love high, and the idea of him going to sleep sad makes you want to die. you won’t allow it, christian deserves to always be happy. you probe, “why did you ask?”
“forget it, it was just me being stupid.” he sighs, self-pityingly shaking his head. he takes another moment before adding, “it’s just stupid.”
“hey, it is not stupid.” you reach over and hold his hands in yours. you start to kiss his knuckles and work your way down to his palms. his shell begins to crack, and he finally meets your eye. another kiss to his wrist, “just help me understand, i’m a little lost.”
he pauses, trying to choose the right words. you leave another kiss on his palm, encouraging him to speak. another sigh, “I just don’t know if i’m doing any of this right, or if i’m doing a good job at it.”
another pause.
he says it all very slowly, carefully choosing his words. “i’ve just never really had anything like this before. i’m not sure i’m being enough for all of the shit included.”
“hmm?” you encourage him to elaborate.
“you know, i’ve never had anything become so serious, with anyone.” it’s a sad smile, yet it doesn’t fail to absolutely shatter your heart. his eyes can’t seem to look directly at you, averting their gaze to the ceiling. the way he’s biting down hard on his lip makes you sure he’ll draw up blood. “i’ve had relationships but nothing official, really. it’s never been able to get as far as we have.”
the atmosphere had gotten very sullen and you’re sure you’re as close to tearing up as he is. hearing these deep, tucked away concerns tugs at your heartstrings and makes you feel horrible that he’d ever even felt any sadness. plus, the way his voice was beginning to shake was not helping. you leave a few more kisses on his wrists, your fingers begin to rub small circles on his palms.
christian continues, “no one thinks it’s worth it, having to put up with this life. i mean, you’ve seen how it is. the scrutiny and rumors and lack of privacy and everyone having an opinion on my life. no one will put up with that, no one will want to.”
“hey,” your frown grows more prominent. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. you let go of his hands to cup the sides of his face, forcing him to finally look at you. “now who got those stupid thoughts stuck in your head, I have to go beat them up.”
he lets out a soft laugh at this, barely letting the side of his mouth quirk up. it gratifies you, but it’s not enough. you need to see him utterly and completely happy before either of you are allowed to go to sleep. 
neither you nor christian had to answer your question, though. you both knew the answer as soon as you asked it. all he could do was cast his eyes down at the space between the both of you, his lips turning downward, again. he was thinking of her. you didn’t like using her name, it humanized the enemy. yes, anyone who caused christian a fraction of sadness was your enemy for life. and you didn’t know much about her, only that she had been here before you and hurt christian beyond words. she’d used him and left him and left you with the task of picking up the pieces of his heart.
“I thought that what I had with,” you see him hesitate, like a whole new bubble of sadness might be getting caught up in his throat. you offer him a small smile and a tiny nod, pushing him to continue. “what we had was real, that I was finally going to be in a serious, adult relationship but she just left. she told me how it was all too much shit and that no other girl would put up with this life- that none of it was worth it. I guess I took it as me, maybe, not being worth it.” 
“she never deserved you or your big heart, really. she was an idiot because none of what she said is true.” you answer within a heartbeat, moving your hands from his face to his hair. running your fingers through it and lightly scratching at his scalp, you hope it brings him a sort of comfort and dispels those horrible thoughts from his head. reassuring him, “and she doesn't deserve to still make you so sad.”
“I don't get sad over her anymore. being with you makes it clear to me that what I felt with her is nothing compared to what I feel when i’m with you.” he shakes his head, confused at your implications. the last thing he wanted was for you to think it was her he was hung up on. it was her words and dissatisfaction with his lifestyle that had put insecurities in his heart. “I think I just get sad over how she might be right. what if, maybe, she and you deserve something easier, something better?”
“christian, no.” you try to shut down his negative thoughts. “she was wrong and she shouldn’t be so inside your head.”
“but it hasn’t just been her,” he whines, finally letting civility out the window and huffing like a petulant child. mumbling on, “i’ve also had flings- or whatever you want to call them- before, but nothing too serious. none of them have stayed, or even tried to. what if it’s because they all know my life is hectic and complicated, what if they don’t want to deal with it?”
“no,” you repeat, trying to get a word in edgewise.
“it’s true!” he’s on a roll now, spilling out all the fears and self-doubt that he’d tried to bury deep inside himself. “and I get it, I do. i’ve never wanted to put anyone in the position of getting harassed simply for being with me.”
“christian-”
“and I know it’s not just that stuff, I know it’s my fault, too.” cue the self-deprecating eye roll and shaky breath. his sad smile has been ever so present tonight and it’s gut wrenching. he babbles on, “I have to train and travel all the time, I have to be focused on my career. it’s like, i’d never have time to be a good enough boyfriend. I get so scared because what if it’s not enough?”
you try once more, “chris-”
he lets out another frustrated groan, “i’ve never wanted to throw caution to wind this badly, i’ve never wanted something to last as much as I do this. i’m helpless and I can only hope that I am being a good boyfriend because it’s what you deserve.”
me? when had we started talking about me?
all you can do is point to yourself, “what I deserve?” 
“yeah, you!” he scoffs. “you’re the best person I know and you deserve someone who can give you something more normal, something more easy. I know that’ll be hard to get with me.”
you’re able to squeeze in a ‘screw easy’ amongst his ranting.
“i’ve been pretty good at not going too far with anyone, because I know it’ll never work. there’s no point in any of it. with you, I can’t seem to do that. I selfishly want you, and I keep praying that might be enough.” there’s another shaky breath, “but what if she was right? what if it all becomes too much for you? I don’t think i’d ever get over you leaving.”
god, just tear your heart into two. you’re sure it’d hurt less.
“don’t think about her, or of the untrue, idiotic things she said. you’re the one who deserves someone good.” you manage to level your voice, speaking with only love and admiration towards him. yet, all you really want to do is scream and curse her out for all the damage she’d done to this beautiful boy. he deserved everything good in the world and you intended to prove that to him. “loving you and being here, in this bed, with you is the greatest privilege of my life. I must’ve been a holy saint in my past life, who did a lot of charity, for me to deserve you in this life.”
“y/n,” he tries to cut you off this time. you raise your finger to his lips, silencing him. in return, he playfully bites the tip of your finger but nonetheless remains quiet. 
you continue, “I would endure all that ‘shit’ ten times over if it meant I got to come home to you every night. I would go through worse, horrible things if it meant we’d be lying in this bed as you told me about your day. I don’t think there’s anything in this world that would stop me from wanting to be with you. hey, don't give me that look- i’m serious. the only way you’re getting rid of me is if you go into witness protection or something.”
he averts his stare to the ceiling as he becomes a blushing mess. this is too much, he wants to blurt out. your love is so much and I don’t think I deserve it. I don’t want to taint it.
“i’m pretty sure i’m going to love you forever. so, all I ask is you let me and keep letting me until then.” it’s a mere whisper when you add, “please?”
you see him internally struggle for a moment. you worry that your words didn’t get through to him and he’ll continue to stay in his puddle of self doubt. his eyes shift between your own, as if pondering over everything you’d just laid out on him. he cracks a smile before it’s gone all too soon. yet, there's a mischievous spark in his eye, only you could see. 
“y/n, I need you to be honest with me,” he feigns a serious look. raising an eyebrow, those big brown eyes search your face for a moment. after a moment, he squints, “are you just saying these things to get into my pants?”
you snort before you could even try to stop it.
“hey, im serious.” he pouts, still committed to his solemn expression. “you should know that I don’t put out so easily.”
“well I don't think you’re going to like what i’m going to say next,” you trail off. one quick glance and it’s obvious his hair is more disheveled than ever- and that bit of smudged lipstick on the corner of his mouth isn't helping his case. you look down to where the sheets are still pooled around you both. from the corner of your eye, you can easily identify where both of your clothes had been discarded without a second thought. your fingers reach out to tap the various hickeys left on his collarbone, “but I think you do.”
this made him laugh. it was one of those happy, boyish laughs- the contagious kind. therefore, you were quick to join in, ignoring the strong urge to leave a kiss in the crease by his eyes. in the midst of the laughter, christian has gotten the upper hand and managed to ease you back into his arms. as he positions you to lay on top of him, you rest your chin on his chest, eyes shining bright as you peer up at him. 
he smiles at you, his eyes warm and soft as they travel over your face. “being here in this bed, with you, it’s the only place I wanna be, too. just being with you makes everything seem worth it, you make it seem worth it.”
“let’s not dwell, yeah?” your laughter calms and you sigh, letting your fingers trace softly over the ink on his chest. you leave a kiss there, giving him your brightest smile. “we’re together, the last thing we should be is sad.”
rather than responding, he leans down to leave a quick kiss on your lips and nods in agreement. it’s soft and sweet and shy, and as lovely as every kiss he gives you. that night (like every other night), there’s no other place that he'd rather be, than in that bed wrapped up in you.
feedback is greatly appreciated. feeling very iffy abt this one so please be gentle with it.
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anangelinthepit · 3 months
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Bruise my Bones but leave My Heart Alone
Part 2
Again my angels just a replied with a few changes here or there. Please be advised this Soren contains touchy subject so please read with caution. I love you all dearly ❤��� as always with love Magenta
Two weeks have already passed by and I still haven’t gotten anything in the mail from Bad Omen, and to be 100% honest I’m not surprised. I still feel so silly for doing that, they probably laughed and threw my letter in the trash. Not to mention my grandmother’s necklace .
“What the actual fuck is wrong with me? How stupid can I actually get? Grandma I’m so sorry.” I said with tears welding up in my eyes.
“Why the hell are you crying now.” Jason said while standing in the doorway.
“Oh nothing, I was watching a sad video about a mama cat who lost her baby.” I said while looking down at my phone
“You’re such a crybaby. It’s so fucking annoying sometimes. Cats are literally the worst animal. Anyways, Delilah and Malibu invited us over tonight, she said she had to talk to us about something. Do you have an idea on what it might be?” He looked at me with a raised brow and cigarette burning in hand. I know if I say the wrong thing that cigarette is gonna end up on my thigh again.
“I’m not sure baby. Last time I talked to her she said she wanted to go shopping but I wasn’t able too.” Biggest lie I’ve ever told but I’m treading lightly.
“Well, get dressed cause we’re gonna leave soon. No fucking tube tops, no one wants to see your damn belly handing out.” He said while flicking his cigarette on the floor.
“Okay so what should I wear?” I realized after I said that I had a bit of an attitude to my voice. My body started to tense up as he walked over towards my closet. This is gonna go two ways
“Wear this, you look pretty in light blue,”
He brought this blue sundress out and walked towards me to show it. Suddenly he had this questionable look on his face. I was just as confused because I literally didn’t say anything.
“Where’s your necklace?” He said sternly
I played stupid and asked him what he was talking about. I felt my chest start to thump and played up a pretend freak out.
“Calm down you probably lost the stupid thing in the bed somewhere.” He said looking around
“Maybe if someone wouldn’t have ripped it off my neck then it wouldn’t have fell.” I said under my breath
Big. Fucking. Mistake
Jason grabbed my face and stared me in the eye
“You really wanna go there? I suggest you shut your fucking mouth and get your clothes on before I change my mind.”
He laughs and pushes my face away. God this arrogant prick has seriously pushed me to my limit, but what possessed me to open my mouth like that? I know better.
We got dressed and made the car ride over to Delilah’s place. As always she was her spunky self and welcomed us with open arms
“So you guys are probably wondering why I brought you all here.” She said sitting down at the table where we had a game sprawled out
“Obviously, now what is it my anxiety is sky high.” Jason said
“Okay Malibu drum rolll please.”
“BAMN! VIP tickets to Bad omens with a meet and greet!” Delilah said slapping the tickets on the table.
“Oh shit no way! It’s next week that’s what’s up.” Jason said
“So we’re going ?” I questioned
“Of course baby. Anything for you!” Jason said kissing my forehead
Don’t be fooled, he only acts like this when we’re in front of others. Guess he’s afraid of his friends to see his true colors. We started our game night and had a lot of laughs, I was having such a good time It almost made me forget that when we go home all hell always breaks loose. Thankfully tonight wasn’t one of those nights, it’s great when passes out drunk because he’s easier to deal with. Delilah and Malibu followed us back home and helped me with him. Lord knows I can’t lift that man up these stairs.
We all carried him to bed and that was it for the night. No slapping , no trying to force me to have sex , just a night where I can be alone with my thoughts. Mali and Delilah said their goodbyes and left for the night. I don’t usually get too many moments by myself, but when I do I try to take them and reflect. I looked around our living room and just collapsed.
The over whelming feeling of finally being safe because he’s passed out isn’t something I should be happy about. I should always feel safe in my home but I can’t do that with him.
“It’s time.” I whispered to myself
The next week went so quick and before I knew it, it was the night of the concert.
Delilah bought me a TDOPDM shirt that was tie dye. Of course Jason said to make mine a 2x so it could look like dress on me but I didn’t care. I was able to make it look cute with my chucks and fish net tights.
We arrived at the venue for the concert and I was so excited. Jason tried keeping a leash on me but couldn’t do it very well since Envie was next to me. Bad Omens was about to start playin soon and the guys wanted to go get food. “Seriously” I thought to myself
Out of all fucking times they could have did this they choose right now right before BO hits the stage . Delilah wasn’t having it and honestly neither was I. We started to walk away because it was getting crowded but Jason grabbed my arm and whispered into my ear…..
“Don’t even think about it, rules still apply even outside of the house.try something cute and I’ll fucking kill you” He hissed
Something came over me and I yanked my arm from him. I knew for a fact he wouldn’t try anything in public so I felt brave even though I would pay for it later….
“Delilah wait up for me!” I ran toward her and we finally secured our spots
“Everything okay? Jason looked pissed”
“No he’s fine, it’s just his resting hitch face.” I said shrugging it off
I would never say that in front of him for obvious reason.
We made it early enough to where our spots were right up front. The best part about this whole thing was there were no barriers. Meaning I could reach out to Noah and possibly get to hold his hand.
The show was about to start and I could feel butterflies in my stomach. Nothing else mattered in this moment expect Bad Omens.
Nick and folio walked out, then Jolly. The crowd got louder as each band member took their spots on the stage, but nothing will compare to the sound the crowd made when Noah appeared
“HOW ARE WE DOING TONIGHT!”
A giant fucking roar came from the crowd. Screaming, crying, yelling. You name it the crowd was doing it. I was standing there in awe, because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
“DO YOU GUYS KNOW THIS ONE ?”
“CONCRETE”
“JUNGLE!”
God his eyes and face are even more beautiful in person.
“I CANT FUCKING HEAR YOU. LOUDDDEEEERRR CONCRETE”
“I really underestimated how tall he actually is.”
“JUNGLE!”
Staring at Noah’s beautiful features, something caught my attention that put me in an overwhelmed state.
What is that around his neck? It’s doesn’t look like his usual chain. I thought to myself.
“CONCRETE”
At this point the chant kept going but I was completely stunned. Standing there like a statue, I noticed it was a gold chain.
A gold chain with a cross on it.
Oh. My. God.
Is he wearing my necklace ?!?!?!
“Y/N? Y/N! Girl are you okay?!?”
Delilah snapped me out of my hypnotized state. I think all the color was probably drained from my face because she looked genuinely concerned
“Are you feeling okay ? you look like you saw a ghost.” She said with her hand on my shoulder
“I’m fine I just got dizzy for a moment.” I said shaking it off
YOU GUYS ARE FUCKING AWESOME !
Bad Omens started to go down their list of songs from their TDOPOM album. It dawned on me that neither of us had send our boyfriend. Personally, I thought it was a blessing but Envie was worried. She said she wanted to go look for them. I tired to convince her to stay but she was persistent. Even though I didn’t wanna lose my spot but I wasn’t gonna let her go alone. Girl code.
“Nah girl you stay right here, This is your first ever concert and I’m not gonna let you miss it just to go find those bozos. Besides we still got our meet and greet.”
She hugged me and started to make her way thought the crowd. When I turned back around I almost had a heart attack. Before looking all the way up I saw two black boots inches away from my face. It was Noah, and he was standing right above me. Like I could literally bite his boot if I was that much of a freak. We were officially making eye contact with each other. Could he actually see me or was he staring at something else ?
“What’s your name ?” Noah said into mic
“Y/n!” I yelled.
He leans down to the point where were face to face. The color probably left my body and my eyes were popping out of my freaking head. Not only was Noah looking into my eyes, but I confirmed he’s wearing my cross necklace.
“Okay Y/N”
He grabs my hand and starts singing
“You say we got nothing in common, too bad never even got started.”
The biggest smile came across my face and Noah recognized it, he smiled back at me and gently let go of my hand. He began to walk back on the stage while still keeping a small amount of eye contact with me. God those eyes are so beautiful, it’s like I can’t look away from him.
“Delilah is never going to freaking believe this.” I thought.
Almost an hour later I spotted Envie with the guys a little behind me. She waved while Jason just gave me a death glare
“Weight down on me still tillll morning weigh down would you say I’m worthy?”
“YOU GUYS WERE AWESOME TONIGHT! Thank you so much we are Bad Omens!”
We all cheered, and just like that I experienced my first concert. I finally caught up with Delilah and Jason, we gave each other a hug while I thanked her for this.
“Girl I saw that !”
“Saw what?.” I asked
“Noah fucking Sebastian sang to you. Not to mention the entire band was starting at you
Delilah telling me that, made my heart sink into my stomach. The entire band was looking at me? Why didn’t I notice? Come to think of it, every time I looked up Nick was also looking at me too. So weird that people in the crowd could notice,but it is just Envie. She is pretty observant.
“Oh Jason you better be careful, Noah might steal your girl. I saw him take her hand a sing to her.” Envie mocked
“Yea we’ll see about that. When does this meet and greet bullshit start.” Jason scoffed
“In 20 minutes.” Envie said looking at her watch
“Okay we’ll meet up with you guys. Y/n and I gotta go call her mom back.” Jason said looking at his phone.
“My mo-.”
Beige I could finish questioning what was obviously a lie , Jason pulled my arm and made us walk towards the bathrooms. Of course this is the one fucking area of the entire venue that is pitch black. Out of all freaking places.
“Babe please there’s people h-
*SLAP*
Jason slapped me as hard as possible across the face and threw me up against the stone wall.
“You think this fucking shit is cute Y/N? I haven’t fucking taught you a lesson in a while. Maybe I should right here right now.” Jason said in my ear while home clutching my throat.
Jason lifted my shirt and tried to pull down my tights. Even with his hand around my throat I still let out a scream praying it would attract attention. Sure enough it did.
“Everything okay back here?” A voice said
“Don’t say a fucking word.” Jason wishers
“Uh Yea man everything’s fine.
Jason said Still having his hand around my throat.
“You sure dude, we heard someone screaming. Ms are you okay?” Another voice said
“Yo mind ya fucking business man.” Jason spat
Jason’s till had his hand around my theory but I was able to slightly turn my head. When I did I saw 4 figure walking towards us, and if I were Jason I would have been scared shitless.
I still couldn’t fucking believe what I was seeing. The 4 figures were Noah, Nick, Jolly, and Folio, this is a fucking dream. Well at least I’m gonna be dreaming if Jason doesn’t take his hand off my throat.
I gotta admit they have impeccable timing. At this point I could feel Jason’s grip loosen. I think that’s the first time I’ve actually seen him scared of someone, it was almost satisfying.
“We’re making it our fucking business. I suggest you take your hand off her throat before I slit yours.” Noah said with his arms crossed.
“Eh you think you fuckers scare me, I’m taking my girl home tonight and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Ms please walk toward us, I promise he won’t hurt you with us standing here. ” Nick said reaching out his hand out
“She not gonna listen to you fucks.” Jason scoffed
I pushed Jason off me as hard as I could and sprinted towards Nick,literally falling into his arms. Probably should have just grabbed his hand but my legs were about to give out from my nerves.
Jolly, Folio, and Noah started to walk toward Jason and by the looks of it they were about ready to fuck his whole world up
“Please don’t hurt him.” I blurted out tears streaming down my face.
They all looked at me confused, which was understandable because Jason was literally about to rape me when they found us. I don’t know what possessed me to ask them not to hurt him. I guess some part of my heart still had love for him, even if he continuously beat the shit out do me.
“Jason I’m done with you, get the fuck out of here before I let them hurt you.” I said with tears dripping down my face
“You think I’m letting you go that easily you got another thing coming. You’ll have to come home eventually bitch. YOU ARE MY GI-“
Without skipping a beat Noah turned around punched him in the face. Jason hit the ground, groaning in pain while spitting out a tooth.
“Judging by the way her lip is busted I just gave you taste of what you been doing.” Noah said kneeling down to Jason
Jason looked up at all of us and glared. I use to be so afraid of that stare but right now I felt like no one could touch me.
“I suggest you do what MY girl says and get the fuck outta here.” Noah said
“His Girl” I thought to myself
Jason got up and gave us the finger,
It felt so good watching him be the one limping this time. I turned to the guys to thank them and they were already walking away.
“WAIT!” I yelled.
Noah turned around and put his finger up to his mouth giving me the hush sign. I was confused but being the obedient girl Jason made me, I just nodded my head and went to go find Envie. They were in line for the meet and greet, also looking irritated.
“Hey guys.” I said calmly
“Girl there you are! I was worried because I thought you were gonna miss the meet and greet but these fuckers are running late. Anyways Where’s ya man’s?” Envie said looking behind me.
“We’ll talk about that later. Look! Here they come! I said pointing.”
We were about 5th in line which didn’t take long. I could see Noah’s fist was bruised from punching Jason, and for some odd reason I found that very hot.
“Snap out of it Y/N. He is a human not a piece of meat.”
Before I knew I was again face to face with the man who saved my life. I still noticed he was wearing my necklace. Does he know I’m the girl who sent it ?
“Hey did you enjoy the show? “ Noah asked while smiling at me
Alright coo, I guess we’re just gonna Pretend
“Yea you guys did great! You were all my first concert ever. “
“Oh yea ? hear that guys ? Her first concert” he smiled. The rest of the guys shared a fake smile with him. For performers they are awful at lying.
“ Noah I did have a question for you. If you don’t mind.” He looks at me with a stern and questioning look. I also noticed the rest of the band was now staring at me too.
“Sure! Ask away.” He says
“That’s a really pretty necklace, where did you get it?” I said in a cute snarky tone
Noah looked at me and smiled
“A fan gave it to me and asked me to keep it safe.” He said looking down at my poster and signing it.
“That was nice that you did that for her.” I said without thinking
Noah paused mid sign and looked at me
“Her?” He said
“I mean it’s a pretty girl necklace, sorry I assumed. Um Thanks for signing my poster.” I said nervously.
I think I’m getting a little too brave for my own good. I went down the line and each band member was now staring at me. It made me nervous because it was the same stair that Jason would give me. A cold stair with nothing behind the eyes, followed by a fake smile.
I got my poster signed and went about my way. Delilah and Malibu wanted to get food, the thought of eating made my stomach hurt because of everything I went through today. I told them I would meet up with them once I used the bathroom. I wasn’t going to the dark one so I looked around for something well lit.
I found one that was near what looked like where all the tour buses were parked. I didn’t see a sign that said I couldn’t go in so I took my chances. Of course it looked like something horror from a horror film, nevertheless I wasnt gonna take my chances with the bathroom that was pitch black again. I washed my hands and heard a loud thud sound followed by voices. What the hell was that? This is the girl restroom why are there dudes near here. I sighed and dried my hands, like inhavent been through enough already. What else does God have planned for me tonight? Bracing myself for the pervert comments that are waiting for me, I walked out the bathroom and was met with 4 familiar figures towering over someone. I knew immediately it was the members of Bad Omens. What I didn’t know until Noah moved to clean of his knife was the person they were towering over was Jason
“Jason?” I said to myself in shaky voice
Guess I wasn’t as good at whispering like I thought was because all 4 guys turned and looked. When my eyes adjusted to the dark, I got a good look at what was going on. Jason wasn’t moving.
Or breathing.
“Uh oh”
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I love you all
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beanzwrites · 10 months
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The Sensitivity of a Knight
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Pairing: Kaeya Alberich x reader
Description: The Cavalry Captain comforts you from an anxiety attack.
Warnings: self-doubt, anxiety, mentions of being made fun of, angst to comfort
Please do not continue reading this if it triggers you in any way, thank you. This can be read platonically or romantically. Reader is gender neutral. ❣
*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚
Today was the day. After all those nights with a nose in a book and the aching muscles that carry (Y/n)'s body, it was time to prove themselves at the next Knights of Favonius' trainee test.
They worked hard to get the skills they had now, and they were extremely grateful to Kaeya for the time he put in himself to aid them. Their heart thumped like a war drum against their chest as they anxiously observe their fellow trainees. Though they know every person here went through the same trials, (Y/n) feels as though they look like a chicken with its head cut off.
Their apprehensive eyes wander over the crowded area, where a few were practicing with each other in preparation. A few official knights, which includes Kaeya and the Acting Grand Master herself, talk quietly amongst themselves as they watch over the group.
(Y/n) feels their breath hitch as trepidation consumes over their every thought. What if they screw up? What if they fail? Would Kaeya be ashamed of them? Would they be a laughing stalk throughout Mondstat? As Jean raises her hand to gain attention, that worry grips (Y/n)'s heart within an ice-cold grasp.
"Thank you all for the hard work you have put forth in joining the cause of the Knights. I know this journey so far has been difficult, but it just shows how determined you are to give your heart to Mondstat, " Jean announces, "Today's task is to beat one of your fellow comrades in a brawl. To see if you have pertained all that has been taught to you throughout this period. Now, let us begin."
Jean walks around to converse and set up the trainees into duos based on if their skills are equivalent to each other. Surely enough, (Y/n) finds themselves in Jean's gaze. Familiarity reaches her eyes, and she gently smiles. "(Y/n)... it is a privilege to see you today. Kaeya has spoken nothing but good things about you. I am honored to see if you pass today. You will be set against Thomas."
"Th-thank you, Acting Grand Master." (Y/n) stutters out, as their eyes set on Kaeya, who was busying himself with joking around with the other's idly watching. He said good things?
As testing begins to start, (Y/n) dreads when the time comes for their turn to begin. They try to distract themselves by thinking back on every brawl they had with Kaeya and what he taught them; however, the sharp cry that came from the active trainees knocked (Y/n) right out of their focus.
One lay on the floor of the mat, a sharp hiss escaping them as they hold onto their side. Red blushes over their white shirt like an active fire, and blood decorates their hands. "Man, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to attack that hard. I guess I'll have to work on my force," the one above the injured says, offering his hand.
"Solarios wins this match. Please, go get your injury checked over there," Jean speaks, before looking at the paper carried delicately in her hands, "(Y/n) and Thomas, you are up."
(Y/n)'s stomach drops as they make their way to the center, fear eating at their insides with no remorse. Thomas meets a few inches away and gives a small nod. (Y/n) gives one in return, their vision blurring slightly from the adrenaline pumping through their veins.
Without another moment passing, Thomas charges forward with his sword. (Y/n) barely had time to reach for their own sword to parry, but by Barbato's luck, they managed to dodge by mere centimeters. The sword's edge gleams from the sun's glare, and (Y/n) could almost see their dilated pupil shaking frantically from distress within the iron.
Thomas quickly jumps back, his sword coming in front of him with the same amount of resolute spewing from it. (Y/n) fumbles to get their sword from its hilt, their intentions sloppy as they point it towards their foe.
Like a wind to a candle, the connections between both swords snuffs out any forgoing of any other action, as they hold their stances like this for what feels like a lifetime. Thomas tries pushing harshly to make (Y/n) lose their balance; however, (Y/n) catches his foot shifting to make a new attack and takes advantage and hooks their foot around the back of Thomas' leg.
Thomas stumbles backwards, a short yelp escaping as he catches himself. Without much planning, (Y/n) strikes downward to Thomas' kneeled position. Their competitor tries to parry from the vulnerable position he is in, a loud clank spurting from their weapons.
Thomas gives an odd look to them, his grip slightly easing. (Y/n) was confused by the decision at first until drops of water falls onto the silver surfaces of the swords. Their breath hitches once more as they feel a wetness along their cheeks.
They quickly back away, their jaw painfully set as they look over to the crowd watching them. A few of the other trainee's whispered among themselves behind their hands while the officials stared with wide eyes. (Y/n)'s gaze looks to Kaeya, who stares right back at them with hooded eyes and a deep frown. He was disappointed...
With a hiccupped cry, (Y/n) slams their weapon down and runs away from the gawking that overwhelmed them so. (Y/n)'s chest gasps for air after a while as they run and their head pounds from a terrible headache. Their heart hammers loudly in their ears, and after a good distance, (Y/n) stops their trembling body with a hand to their head. They could barely feel their legs as they fall to ground, broken sobs departing from their chapped lips.
"What happened there?" Kaeya's voice reaches their ears, his steps practically silent as he stands in front of them. His stature hides them from the sun, but (Y/n) couldn't bear to look at him. Did he follow them to chastise?
"I... I failed..." Their voice cracks barely above a whisper.
Kaeya's hand gently massages the top of their head as he kneels to meet their crumbled body. "Failed? I wouldn't say that now..."
A wail erupts from (Y/n), and they hide themselves in their legs. "I-I.... I couldn't finish.... I'm a disappointment..."
There was a long silence that sliced the air; it made (Y/n) thought that maybe Kaeya left them to brood over their failure. It was until two arms wrapped around their curled torso and they were pulled into Kaeya's broad chest.
"I'd say this is a much more comfortable position to cry than what you were in before. Wouldn't you agree?" Kaeya gently jokes, "now, let's talk. Whatever made you feel that way?"
"I didn't pass... and e-everyone was judging me for it..."
"Now, now. No one was thinking that at all. In fact, I heard multiple saying that you were going to put that Thomas boy in his place!"
"Are you... upset with me?"
"In all the time we've spent together, and you think so lowly of me? I have to say, I'm hurt."
(Y/n) peeks at him with a tearful gaze and he smirks at them, "I cross my heart, I am not upset. In fact, I couldn't be prouder."
"But..."
"I don't think you realize how well you did," Kaeya interrupts as his finger brush away the streaming tears that continue down (Y/n)'s face. His cool touch brought comfort to them, "You are the only one being so harsh on yourself. You did well."
"I feel embarrassed for crying..."
"Oh, please. Crying is normal compared to other things I've seen happen on that field. It is not as bad as it seems, I promise. And if it is, I'll be sure to be your personal garrison and veto any attention seeker's opportunity to ever become a knight," Kaeya teases.
(Y/n) gives a long sigh, before hugging Kaeya tightly, "Thank you..."
"No problem at all... After all, who else is going to keep you out of trouble."
*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚
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pocketramblr · 8 months
Note
39. — heartache. Thank you!
tw- uh. blood. organs? surgery? its all unrealistic but still.
There were mottled bruises on Yoichi's chest. The green and purple stood stark and dark against the pale skin. He shivered more from the cold than from Kudo's eyes on it, even though he was used to both.
"Bruce?" Kudo asked, and the other man sighed.
"It's like I thought." Like Yoichi had said. "His heart's too weak on its own for his body. But as it is now, it's too strong."
It was too strong. Too loud. Yoichi's brother's voice used to be what echoed in his head. Now it was the rush of his own exhausted blood.
"So, the rest of his body just needs to catch up in health?" Kudo asked, as if they had the time or resources for that. Bruce shook his head.
Yoichi moved his hand. "No, I'll show you."
He pressed the bruised skin, and it moved back around his fingers. At his call, the organ moved closer, until bits shone in the light. His own pale green, but also the pearly new white that shimmered in other colors.
Kudo breathed in sharp as a knife.
Yoichi let go, and his heart sunk back. It was so heavy in his chest.
"So the rumors about your brother are true?"
Yoichi shrugged. It had been years since he last saw the glint of his brother's heart, green as well, but so dark it was almost black. Glinting like blood did.
Kudo turned again to Bruce. "How much stronger is it?"
"Than Yoichi's own heart? Two and half times stronger, maybe. Than yours or mine, one and a half?"
"Than his brother's?"
"Weaker." Yoichi answered for Bruce. Far weaker, still, than it probably had been at their birth. Certainly weaker than it now, with all the hearts he took from his followers, with all the hearts he stole.
Kudo hummed. "Alright. Take mine."
"No." Yoichi denied him almost before the offer reached his ears, eyes wide, hands moving frantically at nothing.
"Yoichi-"
"I'm not going to be like-"
Bruce cleared his throat. "Wouldn't that make it worse?"
Kudo blinked. "How would it?"
"Because- oh, you meant, I see."
"I don't. And no, I'm not taking-"
"You aren't." Kudo held out his hand. Yoichi took it by habit. His thumb rubbed over the back. It was rough, and warm. "We're going to trade."
Yoichi squeezed the hand tighter. That was worse.
A trade, a bargain, those all ended in death. Kudo had offered him freedom without a price. That was why he had taken it. There wasn't supposed to be an exchange.
"Yoichi."
He closed his eyes, instead of seeing Kudo's expression. The pain he was causing.
His heart beat even faster. His ribs ached with each thump.
"Don't die to spite him. Come out of the vault with me." Kudo said, over the drumming sound.
Just like he'd said the first time Yoichi had heard him speak.
Another hand on his, surrounding it.
"You know we're not the heroes you call us. Can you let us play at it too though, now? Let us try?"
Try. Just for him.
He'd be so selfish to let them. He'd be so selfish to deny them.
He had a headache from the sound of his heart.
He couldn't even hear himself think anymore.
Or maybe he just wasn't.
He opened his eyes, and looked at Bruce. "Is he healthy enough for it?"
Bruce nodded. "He should be. It's not even in the top half of the worst risks he's taken."
Yoichi almost wanted to laugh at that. Instead, tears stuck to his cheek.
"Fine. Yes."
"I'll get the supplies. Kudo, you'll need to lay down." Bruce ordered, and left the room.
Yoichi stood from the bed he was sitting on to give Kudo room after he took his shirt off, but found himself pulled down again anyway. They both fit, if narrowly.
Bruce returned and sterilized his scalpel and needle, put on gloves.
"Alright, if Yoichi's like I think, he'll be able to survive longer without it in than you, so, get it ready first."
Yoichi nodded, and this time, he almost pulled the whole organ out. It sat on his skin and in his palm. It moved under his fingers so quickly.
Bruce twisted a t-shirt and had Kudo bite down, then moved faster than Yoichi had seen.
It felt like no time at all, and also far, far too long. It took twelve heartbeats.
Kudo's heart was like all the others Yoichi had seen. Red and orange and shining, but he had no time to examine it further as Bruce grabbed the one from his hand and switched them, letting go to press the too-large heart into the hole in Kudo's chest. He held it there for a second, and Yoichi suddenly realized the gaping vacuum in his own.
He gasped, and pressed the new heart over his skin. It sunk in like the first and second ones had.
Suddenly, Yoichi was burning. The shock faded, but the warmth didn't.
Yoichi went limp.
He watched Bruce discard his top pair of gloves, then hold the skin closed to sew it back together.
The thread was yellow, whatever they'd been able to find. At least it had been boiled.
Yoichi realized there was blood, sticky and red, on both his and Kudo's chests. But under it on his would only be fading bruises. Under Kudo's, stitches and scars.
Kudo's sticky red blood was on Yoichi's hand, too. He moved it, and in a second Kudo had taken it, squeezed it just as tightly as he had.
Bruce tied off the thread and stuck down the bandages, then stepped back, panting like he'd run across a city.
"You ok?" He asked, taking the t-shirt from Kudo's mouth.
"Fine."
Yoichi nodded.
"Good." Bruce collapsed back into the chair, hands in his lap, not even bothering to remove the gloves. "Good."
Yoichi turned his head to look at Kudo. "How does it feel?"
"Like you. How does mine?"
Yoichi thought about the warmth that was spreading through his body now, more than he'd had in his life. The weight that was solid, but not crushing. The movement that was quick, but not running him into the ground. The sound that was there, but quieter.
"Like you. Thank you." He tilted his head, pressing his forehead to Kudo's. "My hero."
"Thank you. My heart."
"Thank you, doctor who saved both our lives." Bruce said to himself. "You're welcome."
"You never got a doctorate." Kudo breathed.
"You're only brave enough to say that now because I'm not holding the scalpel anymore."
Kudo and Yoichi let out breaths of laugh, then winced as their bodies and hearts adjusted to the sensation.
"Thank you, doctor hero." Yoichi added.
"You're welcome, favorite patient."
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I'd be curious to see kiss 47 out of spite for Curtis and honey
Haha, I tried my best! It's hard to imagine what these two would fight about, usually, they are so easygoing with one another.
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You grumble to yourself. "Stupid stubborn idiot man." Your hands plunged in soapy water, scrubbing at one of the dishes from Curtis's lunch box and yours.
It wasn't often you and Curtis fought. Almost never, but once in a while one of you were just in a mood and snip at each other. This happened to be one of those rare occasions where you two bickered till a full out argument exploded.
He retreated to his garage where you could hear the loud clang of metal on metal and his music drowning out everything else. "Any louder and you're gonna blow out your fucking eardrums." You shout, not expecting him to hear.
But suddenly heavy boots thumped into the hallway leading from the garage to the kitchen, his eyes narrowed at you standing at the kitchen sink, elbow deep in sudsy water. "What did you say?"
"That you're gonna blow your ear drums out." You retort, turning back to the sink to scrub another dish.
"No, before that." He stalked over, his presence suddenly a very overwhelming sense behind you. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze lifted to the kitchen window, his reflection a slight blur right behind you. Why did you have to taunt him? Your traiterous mind reprimanded you, your heart picking up speed.
How would he react? This was Curtis, he wouldn't do anything, but their was still that sensation that he could, he might, and how would you really stop him. "Repeat it." He said cooly, his hands twisting you till you were facing him, water and soap dripping onto the floor between you two.
That look on his face started you back up. Sure you loved him, but sometimes, like right now, he could infuriate you. You certainly didn't know how to bite your tongue right now. "Stupid. Stubborn. Idiot. Man." You annuciated every word.
If you were gonna pay for it, might as well do it right.
His eyes snapped and he clicked his tongue like he was processing what you said. "That's what I thought you said." You were waiting, ready for whatever was coming next.
Or so you thought.
He pulled you in suddenly, his lips catching yours and laying the most panty devastating kiss on you. You didn't even stand a chance at how his tongue drew out the moans and your body slacked into his, like you no longer had control. Your sudsy hands braced against his chest, soaking his tee. "What does this say about you Pretty Girl? Your'e dating said stupid stubborn idiot man." He nipped at your lips while you gasped for air.
Your gaze narrowed at him, seeing that he was quite amused at your reaction. "Smartass." You pushed him away slightly, in a now playful way although you were still mad at him. His expression turned triumphant, while he circled you back in, dragging you away from the sink.
"Guilty." He hummed, still quite pleased with himself while you simmered at him. "You still mad at me?" He swayed you with him, your body moving to a slow dance that he often did with you in the kitchen. You didn't even have to pay attention to the movements anymore.
"Just cause you kiss me till my brain goes stupid doesn't mean I'm not still upset with you."
"Well I can't have that Honey." He sighed, tilting you back and letting his chin bristle up along your collar bone. "What if I finish up the kitchen and we can resume our disagreement tomorrow?"
You rolled your eyes at his proposal, the anger slowly starting to seep out of you. "You can help me and then we can talk about it before bed?"
"I promise to listen to what you have to say." Curtis pressed a gentler affectionate kiss to your temple.
"And I won't try to talk over you." You compromised, giving him a little smile of forgiveness. "I can't believe you came in and kissed me like that when you were all pissed off."
Curtis scoffs, both of you going to the sink. You back to the dishes and he started mopping the soapy water off the floor. "What else was I supposed to do?! You were driving me crazy between being mad at you and wanting to pin you up against the counter to have my way with you."
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sky-neverending · 1 year
Text
“But it doesn’t bother you that… that they’re both guys?” Robin whispered, eyes trained on the ground. She heard Nancy stop moving, her shoes squeaking against the floor as she turned around. 
“Robin. If I had a problem with them being gay, or bisexual, or whatever, I would be a hypocrite.” Nancy stated, as if it was the most simple thing she had ever said. 
Robin froze, her hands slipping from the jar she was grabbing from the shelf. It fell, crashing onto the ground as her fingers shook with nerves. 
“You okay?” Nancy asked, the corner of her mouth quirked up into a smirk. “I didn’t know you liked grape jelly enough to get it all over your shoes.” 
A broken cough came from Robin's throat. “Sorry. I- what did you say?” she asked, hoping she hadn’t misheard. 
Nancy smiled softly, walking over to Robin and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. She leaned in, her lips ghosting over Robin's ear. “Let’s finish shopping, Robby.” she whispered sweetly. 
Robin's mouth fell open as Nancy pulled away and flagged down an employee to clean up the mess. Her heart thumped in her chest, an unsteady beat that was so loud she could hear it in her ears. It stayed as the two of them finished shopping and checked out, as they loaded the car with bags until they could barely fit any more. 
It only settled down once Robin fell into the passenger's seat, hands gripping at the chair beneath her. The loud sounds of the radio replaced it, mixing with the slamming of the car door as Nancy slid in front of the wheel. 
“So.” Nancy said, pressing her lips together and peering at Robin, who had her eyes trained on a tree out the window. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Gulping, Robin turned her head. She peered into Nancy’s eyes, knowing her own were wider than a deer in headlights. “Talk about what?” she laughed nervously. Nancy sighed. 
“Look, Robin. If I was wrong here, about what I thought this was, about what I thought we had, just tell me. Tell me, and I’ll forget about it completely. But don’t just sit there. Don’t pretend you don;t know what’s going on.”
A surge of confidence overtook Robin then, and she spoke before her brain could catch up to her mouth. “Can I kiss you?” she asked. “I really want to kiss you.”
She got no response, only sudden movement. Nancy was there faster than she could comprehend, their lips pressing gently together. Robin stilled, for a moment. But then she relaxed, and suddenly she was kissing back. She was kissing Nancy Wheeler in the parking lot of a grocery store. She was kissing Nancy Wheeler in the parking lot of a grocery store, and it felt right. It felt like her whole world fell apart and then came back together again. It felt like a firework, like everything was bright and loud and her head was everywhere all at once but at the same time she was just there. In Nancy’s car, kissing her. 
And it was perfect. 
And then Nancy shifted, her elbow pressing into the wheel and causing the horn of the car to honk loudly. The two girls fell apart, faces dusted red. Robin could feel herself shaking, the nerves coursing through her, but she didn’t care. 
“Sorry.” Nancy said, clearing her throat. “Uh, we should probably get these groceries home, right?”
“Right.” Robin agreed. She sat awkwardly as they pulled out of the parking lot, fingers drumming across her thigh. “So what happens now?”
“What do you want to happen now?” Nancy asked.
Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Robin took a chance. “Do you want to go out sometime?” 
Nancy glanced over at her, a smile splitting across her cheeks. “Of course I would.” she said, taking Robin’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “Should we tell the boys?”
“Not yet.” Decided Robin. “We let them figure out their situation first, and then we tell them. If it takes too long, we can change the plan. Is that okay?”
"Sounds good.” Nancy's thumb slid over Robin's knuckles, sending butterflies swarming in her stomach. 
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theladyofbloodshed · 7 months
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Chapter 9 - Be Consumed By The Flame
‘This is the most idiotic fucking shit I’ve ever heard of.’
Lucien leaned against the doorframe while he sharpened his knives. It was an old habit when his hands needed to be busy.
Jurian cleared his throat. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘Yes and it says a lot, coming from the general who wove his way into Clythia’s heart.’
‘Exactly,’ said Jurian sharply, clicking his fingers to get Lucien’s attention. ‘You’ll just dump her there and hope the Lord of Bloodshed doesn’t live up to his moniker.’
‘It is Nesta’s decision. Besides, Cassian is her mate. I doubt he will harm her.’
‘But you’re not certain, Lucien. Are you?’
No. Because hurt didn’t need to be bruises or blood. Cassian had hurt Nesta in many ways before.
‘In honesty, I worry more about the others. Morrigan already dislikes her and will take a slight against Cassian as her own grievance. Rhysand will find any reason to be a bastard to her and Feyre’s loyalty is as changeable as a spring breeze.’ Lucien sighed. ‘Elain might understand. Azriel even. I doubt any would stand up for her though.’
Jurian made a long, humming noise as he drummed his fingers on the kitchen table. ‘Are you going to tell your mate?’
‘Tell her what – that she’s free to kiss the shadow singer and never had any binding to me?’
‘No. That you’re fucking her sister.’
‘I’ve written a letter to Elain,’ he replied, patting his chest where he’d tucked it into his jacket. It detailed nothing of Nesta. Only that he had formally ended his employment with the Night Court and would be seeking to have their bond severed which would cause no suffering for her. He wished her a happy life.
‘A letter?’ Jurian thumped his forehead onto the wood. ‘Fuck me. A letter.’
Nesta was upstairs bathing to remove any last traces of Lucien’s scent from her body. After a night spent between her thighs, it would take some scrubbing. They’d finally fallen asleep tucked against each other as the birds began singing from their perches.
‘If you were my mate and you sent me a letter, I’d fucking kill you.’
‘If you were my mate,’ countered Lucien, ‘I’d have already severed it, Jurian. Elain will not speak with me. She’s had enough time. I stood on the periphery of her life for long enough waiting. If she wants the shadow singer then I will not stand in her way.’
‘Happy families with Nesta?’
Lucien had secured accommodation for her in the Summer Court temporarily after a hastily written letter to Cresseida. She’d replied swiftly in return, saying it would be done – any opportunity to disadvantage the Night Court was still relished – but Lucien would owe her a favour. He liked the mischief that Cresseida brought so would deal with the favour she wanted later. As long as Nesta had a safe place to be, that was what he cared for. They both needed the next few weeks to breathe, to figure out their feelings in private. Then, if they ever met again, maybe they’d be just as strong. If they weren’t then no harm done. Lucien had been set on severing his bond anyway and if Nesta was out of her horrid relationship then it did not matter to him if she never wanted to be in his arms again.
‘We’ll see,’ he said.
***
Seeing her mate after a period of absence ought to invoke joy in Nesta’s heart, but since she had woken up beside Lucien, only cold terror walked beside her. Twice, she’d had to clamber from the bath to vomit. It had made the churn of her stomach worse.
When Jurian tried to shove a plate of breakfast into her hands, he’d grown angry when she refused, claiming she needed energy to deal with those Night Court fuckers, as he called them.
Lucien stepped into smooth over his friend’s spiky temperament. It was because Jurian cared for her, she knew, and that fact had hot tears forming in her eyes. If a surly mortal who hated faeries could see some good in her, maybe Nesta had never been the problem.
The plan was for Lucien to winnow her onto the main row of streets in Velaris then Nesta would cross the Sidra River to Feyre and Rhysand’s estate. She would not go to the House of Wind. Nesta would scream blue murder before they took her there. When Nesta had asked Lucien to winnow her then leave, he’d given a shake of his head and said he couldn’t do that.
‘I care about you too much to leave you at the mercy of the Night Court, Nesta.’
As they prepared themselves to depart, she noticed that he was wearing two knives today. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have one sheathed at his hip, but two was a rarity. And they were the ones she could see.
It wasn’t a battle.
She was not heading there to cause a war.
But it felt a lot like walking the gallows.
‘Ready?’
‘No.’
Jurian tapped his foot. ‘Fuck them. Fuck the high road. They’re pieces of shit.’
‘Thank you, Jurian,’ Lucien said, clapping his hands together to stop him from talking. He extended a hand for Nesta. ‘My lady.’
She fought the tremble from it as she gripped his hand. Nesta managed to raise her head as magic swamped them and she saw only worry in Jurian’s brown eyes.
After days spent below the Wall, the sudden onslaught of magic in the air of Velaris had Nesta bracing herself. It danced on the wind, flowed through the gleaming river, and touched her skin.
‘It’s worse here,’ explained Lucien as he blinked a few times. ‘Imagine trapping a spider with a glass jar. That’s how the wards around Velaris are.’
Nesta raised her brows. ‘When we had a spider two nights ago, I screamed and you stamped on it.’
‘Well, a brave male might trap it and release it. It moved too quickly. Too many legs.’ Lucien managed a grin. ‘I was protecting you.’
Her hand went to her heart. ‘My hero.’
And those words could not be truer. He tucked a length of shining red hair behind his pointed ear. There was a thin braid in it today running from his temple. Rather than the fine clothes he wore as emissary, Lucien was dressed more practically in well-worn trousers and leather boots that stopped half-way up his calves.
‘If you’re not here after two hours, I’m joining you,’ he said. ‘I’ll go under the pretence as a friend of the Night Court but if-’
‘Lucien,’ she said on a sigh. ‘We’ve been through it eight times. I know the signal.’
He nodded. ‘If you want to stay. If your mind changes then that’s also fine. I can write to Cresseida. It is no inconvenience.’
He was too wonderful to put into words. Nesta was lucky to have him at her side to weather this storm.
‘I’ll never be ready for this,’ she murmured, straightening her shoulders. It was worse because there could be no goodbye with Lucien – no fortifying embrace or kiss because Cassian would scent it. ‘I’ll see you on the other side.’
‘Beneath a golden sky. I’m proud of you, Nesta.’
***
Two hours. Two of the longest hours of his life.
Beneath the gleaming sun, Lucien took a seat outside of one of Velaris’ cafés with a fresh pressed juice before him.
It was an attempt to remain calm.
Nesta was entering the wolves’ den and he was drinking fucking juice by the river.  
***
One of the wraiths allowed her entry to the home. All was quiet beside the soft gurgle of Nyx in the other one’s arms.
‘They had an urgent meeting in the Hewn City,’ she supplied.
Nesta had never learnt which one was Nuala or Cerridwen. They seemed interchangeable.
‘Elain?’
‘Tending to a garden in the city.’
How strange that they would all abandon Nyx to the shadow-wraiths.
‘May I?’ Nesta held out her hands for her nephew. There was a harrumph of irritation from him then Nyx recognised her. ‘Hello, my gorgeous boy.’
Tea was made for her as she sat on the edge of the couch like a stranger in the home. Nesta felt a stranger. Nothing had changed within the house. The same cream and gold paper lined the walls, the couches hadn’t moved an inch, not a speck of dust could be seen on the marble mantlepiece above the fire. And yet Nesta had changed entirely. Lucien had opened her eyes to what she deserved – and it was not what Cassian could offer.
Having Nyx to focus on calmed her somewhat. Her hands clasped around his body, swooping him through the air while his little wings flapped. It brought a shriek of laughter to his lips.
She wondered if she’d ever have these sorts of moments again with her nephew.
When the others returned, their conversation stopped mid-flow at the sight of Nesta with Nyx slumbering against her chest. Cassian stared at her like he’d seen a ghost. The light brown hue of his skin turned ashen.
‘Nesta,’ Feyre said, glancing between her and Cassian. ‘We didn’t know you were coming.’
‘I need to talk with you, Cassian.’
Without Nyx as her shield, Nesta felt terribly exposed. She crossed her arms over her body to protect herself as she followed Cassian into one of the back rooms facing the garden. From the tight snap of his wings, he was just as tense as she was. After visiting the Hewn City or Illyria, his mood was usually foul – so it was ill-luck that she’d caught him today after a visit to Keir.
Cassian took a position by the window where he leant against the cherry wood windowsill. The light streamed across his ebony hair. He crossed an ankle over the other, arms also folded.
‘Enjoyed your trip to the mortal lands?’
Nesta swallowed. ‘You knew I was there?’
‘After frantic searching, yes. You couldn’t even write a fucking letter to let me know you were safe?’
‘I left you a letter,’ she replied, voice quiet. ‘I needed some space.’
‘From what?’
‘From you.’
He looked as if she’d slapped him.
It wasn’t meant to begin like this. Nesta’s temper had unravelled in seconds in the face of his own fire. She sucked in slow breaths, focused on the pattern on the rug from Sangravah.
‘Fine. I left you alone. I knew you were safe there.’ Cassian held up his wide hands. ‘I gave you space.’
He spat that last word like it was poison. Was Nesta supposed to thank him for not hauling her over his shoulder and stealing her back to Velaris?
Back in his presence, Nesta was already donning her armour to do battle. Each interaction became combat. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Lucien had shown her that it didn’t need to be that way. She could be angry and hurt and a partner was meant to walk alongside her through those feelings. Cassian met her emotions like a wave hitting the rock - full of force with no relenting. Made her feel as if she was wrong for ever having negative emotions.  
Why had she come here?
It didn’t matter what she did. Nesta would always be villainised.
‘I came here to say goodbye, Cassian.’ Nesta stood firm even if her voice shook. ‘I don’t want to do this anymore.’
The aggression in his expression was exchanged for stark fear. His eyes went wide, hands reaching for the windowsill with white knuckles. ‘What are you talking about?’  
‘We aren’t good together. I will be severing the bond.’
His mouth fell open with a sharp intake of breath. ‘You can’t make that decision.’
‘I can,’ Nesta said.
Cassian stepped towards her, making her flinch. He measured her movement and drew back. His brows pressed together. ‘Did you think I was about to hurt you?’
‘You have hurt me, many times.’
Voice rising, he demanded, ‘When?’
‘When you laughed at me falling down the stairs. When you told me starving myself wouldn’t bring my dead father back. When you-’
‘Enough. Enough. Enough.’
‘No. When you had me hike until I collapsed. When you choose Morrigan over me. When you choose Feyre or Rhys or Azriel over me time and time again. I am never your priority. If it comes to spending an evening with me or them, you will always choose them.’
‘They are my family!’
‘And what I am?’ Nesta voice cracked. ‘Just a mate who is trapped with you for eternity because you wore me down and locked me up until I gave in.’
Those words fell around them, bared and ugly. A weapon might have been a softer choice, but Nesta and Cassian had always fought with words. That way they wounded deeper. Cut into the soft parts and scarred.
‘Is that what you think?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
Cassian shook his head in dismay. ‘You were a mess, Nesta. Be thankful you’re alive because without us you’d be dead.’
‘It wasn’t any of you. Gwyn and Emerie got me through those days.’
‘Everybody else wanted to give up on you but I stayed,’ said Cassian, jabbing himself in the chest. ‘We are mates. We are made for each other. Stop being dramatic. You’ve had your fun in the mortal lands – and I’m pissed off with Lucien for smuggling you there – but it’s time to go back to normal.’
The words couldn’t quite settle. Nesta wasn’t sure if she’d understood. Cassian didn’t understand, not really. This wasn’t a cry for attention. Nothing would change between them – she was certain of that. Cassian was five hundred years old and set in his ways. If change was to come, Nesta would be the one forced into a mould to be Cassian’s ideal.
‘You want a version of me who doesn’t exist – who I don’t want to be.’
When Cassian tried to speak, Nesta cut him off with a swift chop of her hand through the air.
‘I am not Morrigan. I won’t ever be bubbly, flirty Morrigan. I like to spend time alone. I’m not a problem because I don’t enjoy being amongst your family.’
‘I never said you were a problem.’
‘I tried, Cassian. I tried to be who you wanted and it’s made me miserable. You won’t ever try to be the male I want.’
‘I am the male you want,’ he insisted.
‘When I thought of a husband, I dreamt of a male who’d be proud of me. One who’d want to learn what I loved. Who’d marvel at my mind not my body. You are none of these things.’
Distantly, Nesta could hear the front door opening. Had two hours passed that quickly?
‘Nes, I love you.’  
She blinked at him. ‘You love me. But do you like me?’
The question flummoxed him.
‘What do you like about me?’
Cassian was a fish out of water, fumbling for reasons. He liked that she had become a warrior. Liked how determined she was to learn new sequences in their training. Liked how well she could handle a blade now. With a fool’s hope, Nesta waited to hear him say that he liked how witty she could be, liked that she would walk through fire for her friends, liked that she tossed her head back and clutched her stomach when she really laughed. None of those reasons came. He reverted to calling her beautiful, that they were evenly matched, that the Cauldron had put them together.
Nesta exhaled through her nose. ‘I have to go, Cassian.’
‘Back with Vanserra?’
‘This has nothing to do with Lucien.’
‘It has everything to do with him,’ he replied.
‘You’re right. It does. Lucien was the only one to notice how completely you had worn me down. I’m not the female that you want me to be. I never want to be her.’ Nesta shrugged, content now that the fight was over. She had said what needed to be said. Cassian would argue until he was blue in the face that she was wrong. Maybe once Nesta would have stood her ground to argue back. It took more strength to give up and walk away. ‘I’ve started over before. This time, I can be who I want to be.’
There was thunder in Cassian’s voice as he bellowed her name. But Nesta kept on walking. Her skirts pressed between her legs from the speed as she crossed the house. Cassian’s footsteps were close behind, still snapping her name to make her come to heel.
Their signal was abandoned. Nesta did not need to mention rain coming. Lucien, who was stood exchanging pleasantries with Feyre holding Nyx, took one look at Nesta’s expression and surged forwards.
The others weren’t ignorant to the sorrow and anguish in Cassian’s voice.
Mor stood, gaze pinging between them. ‘What’s happened?’
Lucien removed a letter from his jacket, tossed it onto the table, then swept along beside her. A hand clasped around her elbow, forcing her to move quicker when all Nesta wanted to do was break down and cry.
She tried to block out the buzz in the room as Cassian’s family demanded answers.
Her eyes blurred with tears.
Lucien hauled her over the threshold of the front door then his magic sprawled around them then wrapped across their bodies like a blanket, winnowing them away.  
***
The moment they hit the hot air of the Summer Court, Nesta collapsed against him in tears. Lucien went to his knees with her, clutching her body on the sand. A wave rolled too close, soaking them both.
Lucien held Nesta on that beach until the sun gave its last light for the day then he carried her to the address that Cresseida had provided. She remained mute in his arms, tears long spent. It was a little cottage with only one floor and two rooms, but it would do for a beginning. Shells were pressed into the stone around the doorway and the sea could be seen from the window.
In the brief period that he spent winnowing to the mortal land and dodging Jurian’s questions about the day to retrieve her single bag of clothing, Nesta did not move from the bed where he had left her.
‘Cresseida has ensured there is some food here. There’s money here too for your needs, Nesta.’ Lucien trailed a hand against the side of her head. ‘Can I do anything for you?’
Nesta blinked away the fog that had been binding her. She scrubbed at her eyes. ‘You have helped me enough.’
He did not tell her that he hadn’t done nearly enough. Lucien should have stepped in sooner.
‘I want to be alone tonight,’ she said softly, gazing towards the window. The sound of the sea seeped into the room.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘Can I visit you tomorrow?’
‘I will be fine,’ replied Nesta. She lifted her gaze to his and he wished he could lift the despair from it. ‘Will you return in a week? I want to be alone for a time.’
Lucien thought back to losing Jesminda. He had wanted nobody near him; nobody knew his pain, he believed. His grief was tended to in private because mourning was too personal for others to witness. Nesta was grieving. He had to give her that space too even if leaving her now seemed like a bad idea.
‘As you wish.’ Lucien clasped her hands between his own and kissed the top of her knuckles. ‘What you did today takes courage. There is no other Nesta Archeron.’
Just Looking by Stereophonics came on in the car and the opening line just reminded me of Nesta so that's the vibes for this
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minmiramoon · 5 months
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PART 2 - [00:12]
(i'm so sorry but this part is so long :') and i am so sorry for the long wait, i've been busy with school and other things to the point where I totally forgot abt this 😭)
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Your heart pounded in your chest. Each beat a frantic drumming urging you onward. The night air whipped past you, chilling your skin as you raced through the streets. Behind you, the looming silhouette of the house faded into the distance, but you dared not slow your pace. Fear propelled you forward. Your breath coming in ragged gasps as you ran. Even though it was midnight, people still roamed the streets, which gave you comfort, knowing that you weren't alone. Someone could help you if whoever was in your house came after you. You weren't sure where to go, but you were feeling quite hungry.
You stopped and looked around, your eyes fixating on a convenience store. Immediately, you made a beeline towards it, your stomach growling, demanding to be fed. Once you entered, you remembered you had left your wallet at home. Now, hungry and with no money to buy food, the only thing left to do was to worry about the person who entered your house. As you walked further into the store, the cashier stared at you, her eyes burning a hole through your body.
You looked at your reflection. You were wearing gray shorts and a plain white t-shirt, your hair a mess. Your shirt had dirt on it, your face too. There was a cut on your left leg. You looked like a mess. It dawned on you that you were holding a bat. A faint pink blush appeared on your face. How embarrassing.
You walked to the back of the store, trying to hide yourself. As you sat down on the floor, the door opened, followed by a soft ding, alerting someone's presence. Peeking out, you saw a woman, likely in her twenties, with fair skin, long black hair, a slim body, and perfect features. She was wearing belted trousers, paired with a black top and oversized jacket, black high-heel boots, and carrying a handbag. She looked absolutely stunning and expensive. Looking at yourself, you couldn't help but wonder what went wrong, wishing you could look like her.
That's when you saw a man, dressed in all black, tall, looking around as if searching for something or someone. Uncertain if he was the intruder, you hid behind the shelves, attempting to make yourself smaller. Your heart thumped in your chest, praying that he wasn't the intruder but just some random guy on the streets. It raced when the door opened, followed by the soft ding. Please don't be him. Please don't be him. Please.
“Do you have medicine for headaches by any chance?”
“This is a convenience store, not a pharmacy.”
“Please. My wife is in great pain and I can't find a pharmacy that is open right now. This is my only option. Please help me,”
Your heart ached upon hearing his words. Peeking out, you saw the man, his expression filled with worry and panic. The cashier sighed and turned around to search for the medicine. Just then, he turned toward your direction, causing you to hastily hide behind the shelf.
“Thank you so much. How much is it?”
“No need to pay. Just go, help your wife.”
“Thank you so much.” The man left.
“Hey.” You jumped.
“You, back there. Are you okay?”
Oh, she's talking to me.
"Yeah. I'm fine,” you lied.
“Come here,” she spoke. You stood up and walked towards her.
“Are you sure you're okay? You look like a mess,” she scanned your body, eyeing every part.
Should I tell her the truth? Damn, she looks even prettier up close. I love her outfit so much.
“And why are you holding a bat?” she questioned.
“Long story,” you spoke. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again.
“Are you hungry? Is that why you're here?” she asked.
You slowly nodded, “But I don't have money. I left my wallet at my house,”.
“Take whatever you want. I’ll pay for it,” she took out her wallet from her handbag. You stared at her as if she had a second arm growing out of her head.
"Are you sure?" you asked, feeling guilty. She nodded and smiled warmly.
"Go. I'll be at the register," she said as she walked off. You were grateful for the woman's generosity. You didn't take a lot because it felt wrong spending someone else's money. When you approached the register, the woman stopped you.
“Is that all you’re going to get?” She asked. In your hands, you held a ham and cheese sandwich and a carton of milk. Before you could reply, she turned you around and told you to get more things.
“It's fine. I have enough money, get whatever you want.” she spoke. After a few minutes, you came back with a lot more food. She paid for it.
“Thank you so much, you didn't have to do that for me.” you thanked her.
“No worries, enjoy your food.” She smiled and walked off. You had to say it. You had to talk to someone about it. You grabbed her arm, she looked at you, confused.
“Is it okay if I tell you something?” You spoke. The woman nodded. You walked away from the front of the store, afraid that the intruder could be outside watching you. You told her everything, from start to finish, not leaving out any detail. Her expression changed.
“I'm so sorry you had to experience that,” she placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “should I call the police?” she asked.
“I don't trust them,” you muttered. The woman looked away, thinking of what to do next.
“You can stay at my place for the time being, I have an extra room you could stay in,” she offered.
"Really?" your face lit up. She nodded.
"Thank you so much... what should I call you?"
"You can call me Wonyoung." She smiled. You followed her out to her car. As you got into her car and closed the door, you noticed a person standing beside a streetlight. The person was wearing an all-black outfit, with a hood covering their head. As the car drove past, their head turned, following the car.
You catch a glimpse of their face, their mouth curving into a smirk.
----------------------------♡----------------------------
should I make a part 3?
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iamvegorott · 6 months
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"You're jealous aren't you?" "I'm not jealous." Fluff with Danti pls to make up for the angst, love to see Dark being a lil jelly over phantom or something like that :, ) -🎃
Danti does need some fluff to make up for their last time on here XD
2."You're jealous aren't you?" "I'm not jealous."
---------
“Go with the red,” Anti said as he leaned against Phantom, looking at the pictures on his phone.  The two sat together on the couch and Phantom was asking Anti about an outfit to wear on his date later that night.
“Would it be too redundant? I always wear red.” Phantom chewed the inside of his cheek. 
“You wear red ‘cause you look good in it, duh.” Anti laughed. 
“Is that why you’re always wearing black?” Phantom nudged Anti with an elbow. 
“You know it.” Anti winked and that got both of them to laugh more. 
“Is that Dark glaring at us?” Phantom gestured with his head where Dark stood at the entrance to the room. 
“It is.” Anti giggled. 
“I’ll leave you to it and I’ll get the red one,” Phantom said as he stood up, sticking his tongue out with a wink at Dark as he walked past him. 
“You two looked comfortable,” Dark commented as he took Phantom’s place on the couch. 
“You’re jealous, aren’t you~?” Anti sang his tease.
“I’m not jealous.” Dark protested, one arm going across the back of the couch and the other going around Anti’s waist. 
“Oh, of course not, Darky. You totally didn’t look like you wanted to fight Phantom for being close to me.” Anti continued to tease as he turned so he curled up against Dark’s side. 
“I don’t know what you mean.” Dark shrugged, trying to play it off. 
“You’re adorable when trying to lie about getting jealous.” Anti rested his chin on Dark’s shoulder so their faces were only inches apart. “You love me so much~” He was singing again. 
“Maybe.” Dark had a soft smile. 
“You’re head over heels for me. Weak in the knees and butterflies in your stomach.” Anti played up his tone, giggling at Dark rolling his eyes and his smile growing. “The Darkiplier is a big ol’ softy when it comes to his favorite glitch.” 
“A bit.” Dark’s light confession had a chuckle with it. 
“A lot.” Anti corrected and he moved so he sat on Dark’s lap. He placed his hands on Dark’s chest while he felt hands on his hips. “Admit it, you love me a lot~” Anti was having a lot of fun with this. “You’d do anything for me.”
“Alright, you’ve got me cornered.” Dark laughed when Anti drummed at his chest. 
“Say it, say it, say it.” Anti repeated with each thump of his hands.
“I love you.” Dark relaxed even more when Anti rested his forehead on his
“Say it again,” Anti whispered while Dark moved his arms to hug him.
“I love you.” Dark matched Anti’s volume.
“One more time.” 
“I love you.”  
“Last time.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
----------
@bookwormscififan @brokentimewatch
Pinterest Prompts List: Link
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kittynugg · 1 year
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i wrote some shitty zim fanfic B)
keep reading if u wanna see it ik this is a dbh blog so i dont expect my followers to like it lmao (except for you syn ur slaying)
it's about zim having a birthday party (this is just the first chapter, gonna release chapters periodically if people like it) (also zadr shippers dni, i only show them as like frenemies)
Zim sat at the kitchen table, waiting for Gir to get home. As much as he hated to admit it-- And never would to the robot, he found himself interested in trying this human.. "Birthday" tradition. Gir promised that it would be.. Fun. Despite them not having time for fun, he insisted upon it.
Upon researching how humans celebrated these "birthdays," he discovered that it involved guests. Human guests which could blow their cover at any moment! The mere thought of being caught and taken to some government facility to live out the rest of his days in an enclosure made him shudder. His eyes narrowed impatiently as his fingers began to drum against the table. They made a soft and rhythmic thump against the material as they hit it. He grew more restless by the second as he continued to think about what this "birthday" had in store for them. Or how it would affect their mission and the course of his very life. After this had gone on too long for Zim's liking, he extended one of his PAK's arms and used it to contact Gir. "Gir!" He exclaimed into it with an urgent tone. "Where are you?" "I'm getting tacos!!" Gir's shrill, annoying voice responded without missing a beat. "Want some jam? Or french fries?" Zim sighed in exasperation, his antennae twitching. "..No, Gir, I want you back at base." "Fries it is!" Gir cheerfully declared. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he responded. "Thank you, Gir." "You're welcome, birthday-Master!!" With that, Gir hung up. Zim huffed. "Gir's bound to expose our ingenious disguise, but.. At least he'll bring food." He muttered to himself, the faintest smile forming on his face. Just then, he heard an ongoing shriek that sounded like it was getting closer. "..Gir's back alrea-" Before he could finish his sentence, the door burst open with a loud crash, Gir flying through it. "I GOT TACOOOOOOOOS!" Gir's ecstatic voice echoed through the house, causing Zim to jump and hit his knee on the table with a loud exclamation of pain. "GIR!" Zim winced as he clutched his throbbing knee. "..Put them on the table.." He tried his best to mask the pained look that was still showing on his face. "Go outside!" Gir urged eagerly, practically vibrating with excitement as he pushed Zim outside. "Hey- Gir-! Stop! This place is my home! You can't kick me out!" ..His demands for Gir to stop were fruitless, made evident by the dull thud the front door made as it closed. He reached to open the door. Gir locked it. "GIR!!" His voice was filled with anger and desperation as he pounded on the door. "Let me in!! That's an order, Gir!" Gir remained defiant, refusing to heed the order Zim had given him. Instead, he shouted his own order through the door. "Go do something fun! We're not ready yet!" Zim scoffed, crossing his arms. His hands burned slightly from banging them against the door. He wondered what Gir would be doing in the house while he was gone.. "Okay, Gir, I'll go away now!" "Go! Go!" Gir had quite a bit of excitement in his voice as he begged Zim to leave so he could prepare the surprise. "You're not gone yet! I see you in the window!" Zim's eyes widened as he realized that Gir had a speck of intelligence in his empty head. "Fine, I'll leave.." He muttered, beginning to walk away finally. Where would he go? He didn't do many recreational things.. "Maybe I can.. Go on a walk?" He stepped onto the road, the asphalt stretching out before him. A short wave of anxiety coursed through his veins as a car flew by, narrowly missing him. Zim jumped back with a gasp, his heart pounding in his chest. "LEARN HOW TO OPERATE YOUR.. HUMAN VEHICLE, HEATHEN!!" His frustration grew at the human in the car's stupidity. "..I will walk on the sidewalk, then." He grumbled, beginning his trip to.. Wherever he felt like going. Dib stared at the crumpled paper in his hands. The address was scrawled on it in handwriting so messy and illegible that he could barely decipher it. "ZIMZ BIRTHDEY TODAY"
was written above the address in pink crayon. He sighed, slipping the note into his pocket along with the greasy sticky note that had a doodle resembling.. Zim? It looked kind of like it had antennae if he squinted.. And Zim's little back-dome thing was there.. As he walked down the sidewalk, the summer heat bearing down on him, a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. "Human?" "Zim-!?" He flinched and hastily shoved the paper further down into his pocket. "I thought you were busy taking over Earth." He bit, with a scowl. "..What're you doing out right now?" Zim's eyes narrowed as he scanned his surroundings. "..Walking. What are you doing, human? Is it not too hot outside to be playing like a normal human worm baby?" "Then why are you out exercising? If it's too hot for it?" There was a beat of silence as Zim's expression shifted, gears clearly turning in his head in order to form an apt response. "You make a good point.." "So-" "SILENCE! I am going to walk as much as I please! And you will not deter me!" With the loud declaration, the Irken sprinted off, leaving Dib standing alone with a bewildered look plastered on his face. "..Okay, then." Dib muttered to himself, shaking his head. He continued toward the house, knowing he'd probably see Zim again later. alright now if you want to read the second chapter here it is
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repentarium · 2 years
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Hey besties, new chapter! One more to go after this and maybe an epilogue.
snippet below, full chapter in AO3 linked above.
desert song fic tag
xoxo
The first thing Steve feels when he wakes up is that soil-rich nerve ache in his arm, the way it throbs from shoulder to fingertip. His muscles twitch and cramp when he flexes, testing.
The second thing he feels is the way his face is pressed against warm skin and the stiff new cotton of a tee shirt that came from a bag, rising with breath and a steady heartbeat drumming underneath.
The pain wasn't a surprise, but Steve hadn't expected the way he and Eddie were so crammed against each other, or how comfortable it felt. He wouldn’t have thought that a pulse would be such a relief, either, to feel so warm and calm from proof of life.
He lifts his head from Eddie's chest. The movement and the wince and groan as he takes note of just how poorly his demobat bites are really doing (and the throbbing in his head, the amount of blood on the sheets and their clothes that escaped from various wounds in the night, the frigid temperature outside of the warmth of the bed…) causes Eddie to stir and grumble and pull the blanket over his head.
Steve hopes he got some decent rest.
Everyone was a little preoccupied with the apocalypse, and with Steve and his obvious injuries, but Eddie had literally died. He’d received the all-clear from big government afterwards, but they didn’t even see the fucked-up claws Vecna apparently had in him, the way he had poured into all the dark little nooks and crannies in his brain and made himself at home. For weeks. Then there were the fights and burns and cracked ribs that came after he didn’t die, when he had someone else at the wheel sometimes.
Steve has a dark and painful memory of waking up to a thumping noise in his bedroom and seeing Eddie standing over his bed. At first he’d thought it was some sort of sleepwalking episode; they hadn’t figured out that anything extra weird was going on with him yet, so he was just crashing in a spare room at Steve’s house while he recovered; he'd come in a few times to wake Steve up for this or that, company after a nightmare or a question about the AC. This time, though, Steve had watched blurry and confused as Eddie smiled at him, teeth shining and eyes glinting silver in the light of the moon filtering through Steve's bedroom window, and slammed his hand in the top drawer of his dresser with a stomach-rolling crunch. Again. And a couple more times, before Steve could throw him to the ground and hold him down while he laughed up in his face.
Long after he came to that night and cried himself to sleep, after the later attempted arsons and violence and a whole party bag of bad tricks, Argyle had hit him with the fucking pizza van. If all those horrors weren't bad enough, that’s when they tied him up in the Upside Down boathouse and left him for days on end. His friends, people who were supposed to protect him, and all they could do was bring him pop-tarts and water and hope the filthy air didn’t have lasting effects on human lungs. God, Steve felt so guilty about all of it, but they didn’t know what else to do. He tried to apologize, talking to him in the boathouse before the… the kiss, but Eddie had laughed it off with pain in his eyes and blood in his teeth and said he didn’t really remember the stuff that he was in the backseat for anyway.
Steve doesn’t know how true that is, but that’s something to talk about later. Maybe the government has a special therapist for things like being possessed by nightmare demons from a hell dimension and tormenting your friends, but it seems a little niche. Hopefully it’s niche. God.
He just knows Eddie has to be feeling the repercussions of it all, emotionally and mentally as well as physically; he doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget about all the mottled skin he saw last night. He regards the lumpy shape under the stained and creased blankets and wishes again that they could all take a vacation somewhere warm and normal and safe.
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