#i don’t even want to be here but i have like a morbid fascination with how bad some of these are it’s like a car crash i cant tear myself as | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imaginesmai · 1 year

Text

Right around the corner - Azriel

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: four times someone notices something weird about Azriel, and that time someone figured it out.

Remember, I'm taking requests! This Azriel fic is an Azriel x reader, but she doesn't appear yet. Let me know if you want a second part with a formal introduction to the family!

Through the years, Cassian had learned a few things about Azriel. He could proudly say that, even if he wasn’t a spy master himself, he was quite observant. Picked things here and there about people, noticed small habits and routines. For example, he knew that Rhysand liked his coffee boiling hot, that Mor always brought something red from wherever she traveled, and that Feyre ordered the colors she painted with in certain way.

From all of them, he spent most time with Azriel, so it made sense that Cassian knew him. Or thought so.

Cassian knew Azriel sometimes talked to his shadows, even argued with them. The male liked his boots clean and couldn’t stand blood on his clothes. He preferred tea over coffee and liked bad jokes, even if he always scoffed at them.

Cassian thought Azriel was a picky eater. That he hated berries, because he had never seen his friend eat any.

So, when after a tough monthly shopping session for the house, he found a berries box, he opened it without a second thought. It was what he always did – eat from the box before he put it away, infatuating Rhysand, who liked everything in its place.

He only had time to open the box and touch the first berry before Azriel snatched it from his grip, tucking it away.

“Don’t touch it” he grumbled, still focused on putting the eggs away.

“Why not? Rhy’s not here. He won’t mind” he would mind, thought. Not that Cassian had cared about it. “It’s just one berry. I barely ate lunch”

“That sounds like your problem” Azriel gave him a wary look when he tried to get closer. “Don’t”

“They’re berries. Give them to me” Cassian replied, putting his palm up and waiting for his snack.

“You’ll have to wait until dinner”

Cassian frowned, because it might had been one berry, but berries were brought because he liked them and usually ended up in a bag in his room, either way. The only problem he had faced so far was Rhysand disappointed face when he found the empty box laying on the counter.

He rounded the kitchen island until he was next to Azriel. Once more, he reached for the box of berries. That time, he was met with a cold, aggressive grip on his wrist by one of his shadows.

“Dude. What’s with the berries?” he asked, staring at his unmoving wrist with morbid fascination.

“I bought them for me, they’re not for the house”

“You don’t… like berries”

Azriel seemed surprised at the statement, and finally looked at him. And for the first time in a long time, Cassian realized he had surprised him. That he had caught Azriel in a lie, or maybe in an omission of the truth. A truth he didn’t want or feel like sharing.

Maybe, any other day, Cassian would have let it go by. If it had happened with any other food, or with any other person, it wouldn’t have made him suspicious. But Azriel actually looked surprised, and Cassian had tried enough to know it was impossible to catch him in a lie.

“Well, I do now” he shrugged finally. “So keep your nasty hands out of the box”

Before Cassian could reply, the shadow holding his hand curled back into its master and Azriel winnowed away, berries in hand and a soft smile on his face.

Even though Mor didn’t like Azriel the way he liked her, couldn’t love him like he wanted to, she appreciated him as a friend. As a good friend, who was there for her always and through everything. And it was selfish of her, she knew, but she had grown used to the details of being loved. Appreciated, cared for. Wanted.

When she caught his gaze across the room, she was used to watching him blush and look away. When they went out to have fun, she was used to his eyes fixed on her back, not subtle at all. And worst of all, she had been kind of taking advantage of the presents he gave her every now and then.

They weren’t short of money, and Azriel had bought her many things through the years. Something she stared at, something that made him think of her. Multiple things that warmed her heart, not in the way he wanted to.

It was only logical that when she found Azriel at her door with a velvet box, looking nervous and shy, it was just that.

“Az. What a surprise” she tried to smile. Tried not to think about his dejected face once she told him she appreciated the gift but wanted to be alone. “Isn’t it too late for you to be up?”

“Yeah, I… it’s been a rough day” he shrugged.

The first indication that something was different was that he didn’t shy from her stare, nor hid the box behind his back. The second was that he didn’t leave it at her hands like a timing bomb.

Mor raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. She had been about to go to sleep, after a long day for herself, and supposed half of Velaris was already deep into it.

“Maybe you want to come in?”

She couldn’t physically let him down, drop his expectations and hurt him. More than once, she had given him false hopes in fear of losing the friendship. And when she opened a little bit farther the room of her apartment, she intended to do that.

To accept whatever he had brought her, to hug him tight and thank him, and to let him know that she was really tired and would see him tomorrow, maybe. Then, she would go to bed feeling like a horrible person.

Mor didn’t expect Azriel to open the box himself, and show her something she knew wasn’t for her.

Inside the box, was a beautiful blue sapphire necklace, encased in a silver tear that shone under the moonlight. Everything Azriel had got her, everything anyone got her, was always red. Because that was her color, that was her soul. Not blue and delicate, like the piece of jewelry he held in his hands.

Azriel didn’t have to say anything else before she noticed the problem.

“It broke and I don’t know how to fix it. It’s… really important for me. And I need it for tonight. For right now” he rambled, like she had never seen him do. “I stayed working late and now the shop is closed”

“It’s beautiful” she whispered, having seen nothing so soft, so beautiful lately. “How did it break?”

“Doesn’t matter. Can you fix it? Like, right now?”

Azriel could have asked her to go through her own jewels and pick the most beautiful to give it to him, and she would have said yes, because she owned it to him. So she nodded and ushered him inside, with her eyes fixed on the necklace.

She didn’t mention that it was too delicate for him, that it was obviously for a woman. Mor ignored her conflicted thoughts about it as she touched the broken chain.

It only took her thirty minutes to find a chain similar to the original one, and another ten to convince Azriel to take it and don’t worry about it. Any trace of sleep erased from her body as she stared at him. At Azriel looking at the fixed necklace with a crooked smile.

“Who is it for?” she asked finally, as she opened the door for him once more. “Anyone special worth mentioning”

“No one. It’s a family relic, from my mother I think” he explained, looking between her and the open air. As if he couldn’t stand staying in the ground a second longer. “Thank you for fixing it. See you tomorrow, Mor”

Two thoughts were on her mind as she closed the door. The first one, was that she knew for a fact that blue was his color, not his mother’s color. She wore green, purple, black. Dark colors, if the portraits were correct.

The second thought, that was confirmed when she looked at her stunned face in the mirror, was that Azriel hadn’t acknowledge her outfit. A thin, black nightgown that barely covered her thighs, and that other nights had sent the shadow singer stuttering apologies right and left before leaving in a rush.

Amren stared with half-closed eyes at her friends, noticing the change right away.

She usually wouldn’t entertain that type of activities, thinking ‘family game nights’ were a waste of time. But since Feyre appeared in their lives, she had to admit she liked her family better. She liked the way Rhysand softened around her, how at ease he was and how relaxed she made everyone.

True to her habits, Amren had chosen the farthest chair and the most expensive wine, and was watching the night unfold in front of her.

At the begging, she had thought it was weird that Azriel, almost as closed off as her, had walked in with a bright smile on his face. His hair had been ruffled in a windless, summer night, his shoulders wider.

It took him almost an hour to identify the new smell in the room, and find the source around his wrist. Almost unnoticeable between all of the scents combined – yet clear enough for her.

She stared at the black rubber band around his wrist, similar to the ones Cassian wore but not quite the same. Amren made it her mission to unfold the different smells and identify the new ones.

Rhysand’s was dark and fresh, like the night. His was intertwined with a sweeter one, Feyre’s, that smelt like vanilla and power. Raw, beautiful power that Amren admired.

Cassian’s was wild and abundant. He smelt like war camps and sweat, but somehow, like home too. Nesta’s scent was there too, even if the female wasn’t around. Amren could identify her just fine – and the new scent wasn’t hers.

After filtering the rest of presences, she finally focused on the band. Azriel was still unmated, that much she could tell. His was like ashes and candles. And behind all of that, she finally found it – baked bread, fresh food, vegetables.

“What are you looking at?”

Her line of sight was interrupted when Azriel pushed his sleeve farther down his arm, covering the rubber band. He knew where Amren was looking, and Amren knew that the question wasn’t rude. Still, Azriel’s voice held an edge she had only heard in Cassian or Rhysand’s voice before.

She smiled lazily at him before answering, making sure everyone was busy trying to guess what Rhysand was gesturing.

“Nothing, boy”

“You were staring quite hard for being nothing” Azriel replied. He fixed his hazel eyes on her, a hard edge on his features.

“I thought I smelt something on you” she purred, enjoying way too much the way the spymaster tensed. “Have you grown a sweet tooth lately?”

Amren usually didn’t stick her nose where it didn’t belong. She liked her life quiet, and minding other people business wasn’t her thing. Every now and then, she did like riling up Cassian or messing with Mor, but she had yet to play with the shadowsinger.

She respected him just as much, if not more, as the rest of the family. Understood the difficulty of his job, the people’s souls he carried behind. Most of their interactions were friendly and cordial, nothing more.

However, that night she felt like she had found something wort digging in.

“Do they know yet?” she asked him when Azriel didn’t answer.

“That I stopped in my way here to buy food?” even if the irritation and protectiveness fell from his face, a muscle of his jaw twitched. “Yeah. Cassian already ate half of the banana bread”

“He did, now?”

They silently stared at each other for a long minute. She dared him to deny it once more, to tell her that the smell under his sleeve was just from a quick stop to the bakery. He dared her to ask about the rubber band and give him an excuse to leave the game night.

Finally, Amren looked away and answered correctly to what Rhysand was trying to represent with gestures. Cassian got up and quickly started an argument about how to gesture correctly, while Feyre just laughed her ass off and Mor scurried off to bring more wine.

The next time Amren looked at Azriel’s wrist, the rubber band was gone.

The clock chimed five times in a row when the door finally opened, and Rhysand looked up from the papers on his desk. Apparently, he had to write a formal apology to the summer court in Cassian’s account, and certainly, he wasn’t any close to writing it than what he was in the afternoon.

Now, at five o`clock in the morning, his worry had gotten the best out of him. Rhysand had promised himself that, if by the time the sun came up Azriel wasn’t back, he would start destroying Illyrian camps until he found him.

“Before you say anything” Azriel rose a bloodied hand towards the high lord, and no matter how old Rhysand was, he felt his heart plummeting to the ground in worry. “Not my blood. Not even a scratch”

“Hard to believe. You’re leaving a puddle of it in my carpet” his voice was stained, his anger and worry mixing together.

“I…”

For the first time, Rhysand watched Azriel lost at words. The male looked down at his clothes, that were indeed soaked in blood and gore. He was still carrying all his swords and knives. And from where Rhysand stood behind his deck, he could see none of them had been left unused.

He had received a note from Azriel a day ago saying he was going to check on some Illyrian camps for illegal wing clipping, and that he would be gone for a few hours. Since then, Rhysand had had to deal with the worry and panic of not knowing if he was alive, since he closed his mind to Rhys.

Azriel looked back at him, and any type of sermon would have to wait until the morning. Rhysand got up and circled the desk, until he was in front of his friend. Who looked at him with sorrow and pain.

Rhysand didn’t let the surprise of seeing the shadowsinger, the spy master, so vulnerable. He only gripped his shoulder tight.

“What happened?”

“They didn’t even deny it” Azriel admitted, his voice tight. “One of the girls in the village was brave enough to show me where they keep them”

“Keep what?” even if he asked, Rhysand had a feeling he knew.

“The wings. They kept all the wings pinned to a tavern’s wall, like fucking hunting prices. Rhys, they were so… so many. So many”

He knew his brother’s history with the camps. Had seen what they do to women for himself, had fought for years against it. Still, Azriel had always been the calmer one. Cassian often went into carnages when he found an illegal clipping, but Azriel was the one to ask first and kill later. To organize trips into the mountains with reinforcements and not take decisions by himself.

The Azriel covered in blood in front of him, with tears shinning on his eyes, was new.

Rhysand was at loss as words, torn between beating him for his stupidity of leaving alone and going back himself to look for survivors and kill them slower.

“What you did… Az, anything could have happened to you” he tried to reason. “You know better than to do this on your own. What happened?”

“I got a strong hold. Knew where to find them.”

“How?”

Azriel didn’t answer, and Rhysand didn’t need to pry into his mind to know he would find it closed. Sighing, he pulled Azriel close. It didn’t matter that he was staining his clothes too, that Feyre was still waiting for him in bed and that he was ready to drop dead from worry.

Rhysand hugged Azriel and let him grip his vest until it wrinkled, until he was ready to talk. He trusted him with his life, and he had a feeling whatever was what had brought Azriel to that camp wasn’t ready to be shared yet.

He didn’t count the minutes that passed by until his body relaxed between his arms, didn’t acknowledge the wetness on his neck.

“I need to do something”

“What? Unless it’s a fucking bath and – “

“No, I won’t – it’s not what you think” Azriel took a deep breath and locked his eyes with Rhysand. The high lord nodded. “I’ll talk about it tomorrow, I promise. But just tonight, I need you not to ask question. I won’t be sleeping in my dorms”

“You need to take a bath and rest”

“I will take a bath and rest”

Rhysand knew Azriel had an apartment, somewhere. He knew where Mor lived, where Amren had bought a house, but his brother had lived as long as he could remember in the wind house, with him. He didn’t have many personal details, but in the room at the end of the corridor he kept his weapons and clothes.

He even kept the horrible scarf Nesta knitted him last year that everyone else had thrown away.

Before he said anything else, something in his soul told him to shut up. To accept his request, the only one he had done in a long time, and leave the details for the next morning.

“I guess it’s time for me to go home too” he smiled softly. “Just – clean off that blood. And don’t forget to report in the morning. We need to talk”

“We will”

Without further explanation, Azriel disappeared between his shadows. And Rhysand was left with the sudden smell of burnt bread under his nose.

What Feyre missed the most about her human life, and from the spring court, were the quiet walks in nature. The smell of leaves and grass, the sounds of the animals and the absence of other voices. Velaris was a busy place, and even if the people were more than nice, she missed quiet.

Nyx had made sure that his mom never knew quiet again.

He was a happy baby, loud and cheerful, and slept less than any person Feyre had known. Always wide awake, smiling and babbling. Before he even turned one, she had grown used to taking midnight strolls down the Wind House like another routine.

That night, Nyx was playing with her tattooed fingers and munching on his pacifier, still managing to babble some words. Rhysand had gone to bed late and was sleeping in their room, unaware of the night walk. And Feyre, who held Nyx tightly against her chest, felt like falling asleep on her feet.

She was considering turning around and letting Nyx lay awake staring at the ceiling when the baby stopped moving.

“Time for a diaper change?” she guessed, used to that type of silence. “I’ve never met a stricter person when it comes to schedule. Most people use the bathroom at day, you know?”

“Bah”

“Yeah, most people sleep at night, I guess” she sighed.

Still, when she felt his diaper, she found it empty, and after a quick inspection of smell, she discovered it was clean. Through her sleepy haze, she frowned and looked at Nyx. He was pointing to the open door to the kitchen, to the table next to the entrance.

As the rest of the house, the kitchen was empty. Not even Azriel’s shadows, who usually snuck around and entertained Nyx for a while, were there.

Feyre walked inside the kitchen as Nyx became more restless, until the baby was close to the object he pointed at. Then, almost dropping from her embrace, he put his chubby hands on the surface and tried to crawl to his destiny.

“Nyx, baby, it’s late. You already had dinner” she sighed, trying to pull Nyx back.

But as soon as she separated his hands from the table, Nyx let the pacifier drop and whined pitifully. He smacked one rebel hand against Feyre’s cheek, showing her his utter disapproval of the action.

All Feyre needed was another slap to the face before she gave in and let Nyx have his way. She let the baby sitting on the counter, and holding his back, she bent down for the pacifier. When she rose again, Nyx had found his prize – something that certainly didn’t belong to their kitchen, since the most complex food she could make was soup.

Large and thin like a fork, Nyx was holding a kitchen tool made of plastic. It ended in soft peaks, similar to a brush. Similar to the baby brush Feyre used with him.

“Did you winnow that here?” she asked Nyx, not expecting an answer. “Please tell you didn’t steal anything”

Lately, Nyx had picked up his father’s power and was starting to conjure things he wanted or needed. It was cute, whenever it was a toy or a plushie. Last month, it was a very distressed Cassian that fell on Feyre, and it was not cute.

But before she could think about Nyx winnowing the tool, she recognized the already familiar smell of bread and cinnamon. Feyre smiled as Nyx brushed its end against his face, and the baby giggled.

During the next ten minutes, she brushed the tool herself against her baby’s hair, tummy and neck. It might had been a little unhygienic and certainly not very mom-like, but it was getting Nyx to drop his eyes and lean against her.

She ended up carrying the baby asleep on her arms, still gripping the new acquisition tight on his fist.

As Feyre let him rest on the crib and tucked him in, Rhysand finally woke up. He apologized softly for not getting up and urged his mate to get in bed with him. Just before he could fall back into a blissful sleep with his family safe besides him, Feyre spoke.

“Remind me tomorrow to wash that thing and give it back to Azriel’s mate. She’ll be happy to know it also works as a baby wand to sleep”

Feyre drifted off with his back to Rhysand as the male got up from the bed, processing the new information.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

2K notes · View notes

amateurmasksmith · 7 months

Text

You Didn’t Know (Reprise)

(don’t mind me, just got inspired by a shitpost by @onesidedradiostatic (and their Anon) and turned it into angst…)

(also, it looks like @convolutedblasphemy beat me to it - well done btw - but I still wanted to give it a stab!)

Vox (yoinking the proof away): “Gimme that, Alastor, It’s not meant to be seen by you. Let’s move on, everyone, Figure out the best move that should, Improve our chances against the Angels’ threat!”

Alastor teleports behind him and counter-yoinks.

Alastor: “You want me to ignore that? No, not yet.”

Alastor examines the figurine closer, with a morbid fascination.

Lucifer, to Alastor: “It’s not as simple as you think, Not everything’s been spelled in ink.”

Vox lunges at Al angrily, flailing his arms as Alastor easily sidesteps him. Val catches him before he can fall.

Vox: “Leave it, Alastor!”

Valentino: “Careful, Voxy, keep a cool head.”

Vox pushes away from Val, gesturing towards Alastor.

Vox: “No! You never cared, did you?! You left, and it was like you were dead, Al/ /astor! We could’ve just gone our separate ways, but You left me here, with this internal blaze!”

Alastor: “I’m sure you wish it had been so, but there’s a lot that you don’t know!”

Vox: “You left before we could talk it out! Find a way we could still be friendly! But you blew your shot when you dropped off the block, Yeah, I’m so ‘sorry’ for being so petty!”

Alastor pulls Vox into a dance as they sing past each other.

Alastor/Vox: “No more questions to be posed,” / “There’s one question to be posed,” ”I hate you now, case closed” / “Though you are predisposed” “I try to forget that we were forever!” / “Why is this thing worth losing your temper?”

Vox breaks off and walks away, putting distance between them…

Vox: “I made the mistake once, Now I won’t be a chump! Decades of isolation await you,”

Velvette, concerned where this is going: “Vox?”

Vox: “No-one else will think to even date you!”

Alastor: “Wait-”

Vox turns around, realizing what he said.

Vox, who didn’t mean to spill: “Shit.”

Alastor (Aro 404): “What are you saying? Let me get this straight, When you begged me then, Down on your knees…?”

Valentino: “He didn’t know?!”

Velvette: “Whoops! Guess the cat’s out of the bag!

Alastor (through gritted teeth): “Oh, what a reveal!”

Vox: “Wait a sec here, Al, you didn’t know?”

Alastor begins slowly pacing towards Vox.

Alastor: “I thought you were bolder, as our friendship grew older!”

Vox, pained: “No!”

Alastor’s demon form begins to show as he slowly corners Vox.

Alastor: “You have to listen, My life here has just one mission, So it’s lucky I saved you, The anguish it takes to… Do what was required!”

Vox: “To think that I admired you, Al!”

Alastor breaks off, dismissing him with a wave of his hand, and starts walking away.

Alastor: “I don’t need your condescension, It’s not my fault you weren’t direct!”

Vox: “Was our relationship just manipulation? Oh, I was naive to expect you, to care beyond favors you’re repaying!”

Alastor: “Vox, what on earth are you saying? Love is not forever, your programs here are all lies, I’d have thought that seven years would give you enough time! Now I’ll leave you all to handle your foolish little scandal,”

Al gestures to the group, and casually drops the figurine in Lucifer’s hands as he brushes past.

Alastor, to Lucifer: “I’d recommend you stick to sculpting Anatidae.”

Alastor is engulfed by his shadow, and melts into a nearby radio. He emerges at Rosie’s place, ears drooping. The music takes on a softer style.

Alastor: “Rosie, dear, I have a problem.”

Rosie: “For you, Al, I’m all ears! Sit down here!”

Rosie gestures to her couch, on which she sits, and Alastor crumples.

Alastor: “Ugh! Apparently, my old pal Vox, Bought a commission, born from horrid thoughts… I gave him a piece of my mind, he Said ‘we were forever,’ and yet somehow I never…”

Rosie: “Oh. Yes, I see…”

Rosie brings Alastor in for a hug.

Alastor: “Why the fuck / Was I the last to know my old friend had a crush?”

As the music fades out, we see Alastor’s face buried in Rosie’s shoulder, partly obscured… Without a smile.

#onewaybroadcast #aroace alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor

181 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 2 years

Note

Ghost face x male reader where they find out the reader has a fascination with blood/gore?

Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x male reader

Headcanons

Is anyone as hyped as me for the trailer?

I’m not sure which Ghostface you were referring to in your request, so here’s some poly ghostface ^^

- I feel to end up in a relationship with Billy and Stu in the first place you need to like horror movies or at least not hate it, so there would already be a lot of gore in your life even if it was fictional.

- Now, they would be surprised when after they kill Casey Becker, the first thing you do isn’t be sad about her being gone, but start asking about the gore of the crime scene.

- Most people just assume its morbid curiosity but they see some glint in your eyes that immediately catches their attention, especially Billys. He would be very into you liking blood and gore as I think he’s kind of a freak about it too.

- Stu would find it hot too, but he’s not as turned on by blood as Billy. So they start to leave hints places you frequent just so they can see how you react. It becomes kind of a game at some point, how much can they reveal to you without you freaking out.

- If you catch them as Ghostface they’d at first panic because they don’t want to be caught, then when you start to ask about the killings instead of panicking they calm down. If you want too, they’d welcome you to join their killing spree.

- Imagine date nights where the three of you go out killing someone and then go back to one of your places to watch a movie and eat snacks, or go for a long romantic drive afterwards.

- They would let you be in control of some of the killings because they really like seeing your reaction to the blood and the gore, it always makes Stu all kinds of giggly and excited whilst making Billy have some kind of ego boost and power trip.

- I could imagine them bringing you a heart as some kind of romantic gesture, and because you are into blood and gore you’d be so touched and give them both a big kiss as a thank you. Of course you cant keep the heart or else you’d probably get caught, but it’s the thought that counts.

1K notes · View notes

onceuponapuffin · 5 months

Text

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

Beginning|| Previous || Next

It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning|| Previous || Next

114 notes · View notes

rottngdeer · 9 months

Text

Bloodsuckers — 5

Pairings || Hannibal Lecter x Vampire!Female!Reader x Will Graham

Part 5/?

Part 4

Contents/Warnings || Not proofread. Hannibal being Hannibal, blood consumption, implied murder, SMUT !!, fingering, p in v.

Authors Note || hi, so sorry for the delay in chapters. my mental health has been trash and junior year of college is beating my ass :’) but i’m rewatching hannibal again and finally got enough inspiration to start writing again wooo.

AO3 || here

“So Jack hired you and doesn’t even believe in what your saying?”

“To put it bluntly, yes. What’s your excuse?” Will asks.

“Me and Hannibal have.. an arrangement. One that I can’t get out of.”

A silence came between you and Will. He had shown up to your house out of the blue, pushing you further about your relationship with Hannibal. It seemed like Will only knew Hannibal’s secret, but not yours, and not what you and Hannibal’s relationship really was.

“Look, Will, I can’t help you with this.”

“Does he have something on you?”

“No.”

Another silence. You lied, obviously, but you could tell that Will didn’t believe you.

“What is it?”

“Will-“

“What is it?? We can help each other.”

“No, we can’t. Whatever you think it is, it’s not that, trust me.”

“Why can’t you trust me?” Will asked straightforwardly.

“It’s complicated. I trust you, but I really, really can’t talk about this.” You put your hands on both of his shoulders, gently squeezing them, “I can take care of myself. And I can take care of Hannibal.”

“Take care of him, hm?”

“No like that,” your arms fell back to your sides. “I can take care of my situation with him.”

You were annoyed. Annoyed that Will wouldn’t stop pushing you about Hannibal, annoyed that Hannibal had power over you, annoyed that you hadn’t consumed any blood in a few days. Your eyes kept landing on Wills neck, but your thoughts kept wandering to Hannibal.

“You should go,” You told Will, rubbing your temples, “I don’t want to talk about this again.” Will looks annoyed, but he doesn’t fight you. He leaves without another word, and you stand alone in your living room for a few minutes but pulling your phone out of your pocket, hesitantly calling Hannibal.

He picks up quickly, “Y/N.”

“Do you.. have anything for me?” You ask, staying vague on the phone.

“20 minutes.”

“Thank you,” you mumble. hanging up. You pace the room while you wait, hungry and tired.

Hannibal was punctual as usual, ringing your doorbell at exactly 20 minutes. “Hello,” He says when you open the door. You pull him inside, locking the door behind him as he says, “I’ve only brought myself for you.”

“That’s fine,” You watch him take off his blazer and roll up his sleeve. There’s faint marks on his arm from the last time you fed off him, only serving as a reminder for how good he tasted. He sits down on your couch and waits for you to join him, holding his arm out comfortably for you. You sit close beside him and lean down, running your tongue along the vein on his arm before sinking your fangs into him. As you feed, you feel his eyes glued to you. You both knew that he got something out of watching you feed; a fascination or morbid curiosity about your species and how you work. You eventually pull away, licking the droplets of blood that spill out of the puncture wounds.

He wiped a line of blood off of your chin with his thumb, keeping eye contact as he sucks it off of his finger. You eventually break the silence by saying, “I’ve never met a human like you before. I mean that as both of a compliment and an insult.”

Hannibal doesn’t reply to that, roughly grabbing your chin and commanding, “Open.”

You slowly open your mouth and watch as Hannibal eyes your fangs curiously. You close your mouth after a minute and are suddenly met with Hannibal’s lips hitting yours. An almost violent make-out ensues, with both of you fighting for dominance over each other for a few minutes. You eventually bite his tongue, not too hard but enough to draw blood. He breaks the kiss, tasting his own blood in his mouth. He gives you no time to react as he roughly grabs your hips and spins you, shoving you onto your stomach on the couch. You feel the weight shift as Hannibal moves from sitting normally to standing on his knees. He grabs your hips again, pulling them up so your ass was in the air.

“That was very rude of you,” He says, his hands reaching around your waist and unzipping your jeans, swiftly pulling them down and off. He pushes your panties to the side, not bothering to take them off. You look over your shoulder at him as he licks two of his fingers before pushing them inside of you. You let out a low moan and buried your face into the couch cushion. He wasn’t gentle with you, shoving his fingers in and out of you quickly, stretching you out to prepare you for him.

Your hips instinctively pushed back against him, craving more as he continued, only to feel his fingers pull out of you. You hear his belt clink and his pants unzip before he grabs your hips again, holding them still before pushing himself inside you. You hiss and grab the couch cushion, the pain and pleasure of it overwhelming you.

Hannibal gave you a minute to adjust before pulling out almost fully and slamming back in. “Fuck!” You cursed, clenching around him, only encouraging him to start a rough pace, pushing in and out of you hard and fast.

He keeps his pace steady, his hands holding your hips in place as you attempted to squirm. It didn’t take long for you to feel the fire in your stomach grow hotter as your orgasm approached. Your moans began to get louder at each thrust, your nails digging into the couch cushion. You felt Hannibal’s weight press against your ass as he leaned forward, one of his hands leaving your hip to reach around and rub small circles on your clit. Your eyes squeezed shut as you began to shake, your moans going up in pitch before you came, crying out his name.

Hannibal kept his pace up for another minute before his hips stuttered and you heard him groan before spilling inside of you. He stays inside of you for a moment before pulling out, pushing your panties back into place. You slowly sat up, finally looking at him as he zips his pants back up and tucking in his button up.

The two of you sit next to each other for a minute before he says, “I’ll run you a bath.” He stands, looking down at you and holding out his hand. You hesitantly take it, following him into the bathroom, wondering just how much more complicated this would be now that you’ve done this with him.

#hannibal #hannibal x y/n #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #nbc hannibal #will graham fanfic #will graham #will graham x reader #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #hannibal smut #hannibal x reader smut

343 notes · View notes

watchtowerindistress · 4 days

Text

the empath and the eldritch horror (4/5) - sparrow!ben x empath!reader

Summary: This was truly the end of the world. Both families chose to band together to get rid of the ball of lightning in the basement. Allison is showing her true colors, affecting Eight. And Ben is trying his hand at pep talks.

Word count: 6.8k (*cough* don't look at me)

Warning: language, angst, Eight's mental health (or powers?), violence, Eight's self-esteem, mention of smut, mention of drugs, Eight has a very specific tattoo

Author's note: This is the chapter I was most looking forward to 🎉🤗 Still between chapter one and two. If you know the gif, you'll know which episode this is set in. The last chapter will be then after the wedding shenanigans.

Full disclosure, when I first watched this season so many years ago, I felt like so many others, truly angry at Allison. It's why I didn't want to do a re-watch, but now I have a more balanced approach. Not to mention, yes, Eight is deeply affected by Viktor and Allison, but ... at the same time, she gets it in a way, so she's more neutral about it. I think the next chapter delves deeper into that.

This chapter is so long because I included the whole episode (almost) from start to finish. You're welcome. 😘

Please please please write a small comment or reblog this.

Series masterlist

The absolute impossible happened. Who knew that both Hargreeves families could get over their petty squabbles and band together to defeat a common foe? This time around they chose to acknowledge that the Kugelblitz signaled a more pressing matter in spite of the egos of some people itching to kill the others.

Ben followed after Fei by sauntering into the sitting room as soon as some of your siblings had arrived to start off the family meeting and to deal with the next cataclysmic event.

Ben frowned impatiently at Fei’s inquiry about Diego’s hand—it was probably half curiosity and half a morbid way of making friends by feigning interest. “We don’t have time for idle chitchat. Everyone, sit down.”

Diego decided to be his typical brotherly self. “Please would be nice.”

His partner in crime (as you lovingly called her in your head) called Lila chuckled at his antics.

Ben barely turned his head in his direction when he uttered with a serious, “No.” With a frown, he tilted his head, scrutinizing the guests with a subtle glimpse. “Where’s the Empath?”

Casting his suspicious gaze onto Ben, Diego narrowed his eyes at this fascination. Maybe this was the overprotective brother in him who didn’t like the idea of this version of Ben being mesmerized by you—for whatever nefarious motives. Since he didn’t want to imagine anything else going on there.

Stretching his arm against his thigh as he leaned forward, Diego demanded with an accusatory voice, “Why do you care?”

Ben waved a hand, smirking widely to get under his skin. “Maybe I’d rather appreciate the presence of the sensitive sibling rather than the knife guy bashing his head through the fucking wall.”

“You little-” Diego hissed.

This was the moment when you arrived at the Academy. “I heard someone requested my being here,” you sang, hoping to de-escalate any frictions with your arrival.

The tension in Ben’s shoulders dissolved. You reminded yourself to appear as easy-going as possible when you passed Ben. Trying to disregard the intense gaze he sent you over your shoulder. You picked the seat in the middle of the couch, between Diego and Five, just in case Diego and Ben decided to butt heads.

Mildly curious, Diego grumbled, “How can you even stand the guy?” while waving a hand in Ben’s general direction as a gesture of irritation.

This was just your idea of a good time. To be subjected to being the woman in the middle trying to mediate between two pig-headed guys.

You sat down with a sigh, sending Ben a teasing expression. “Sometimes he reminds me of you.”

Their reaction was instantaneous.

Ben’s face contorted into a grimace. “Don’t insult me.”

Simultaneously, Diego added, “Not funny.”

Fei and Lila’s chuckles eased the tension in the room. But this appeared short-lived.

“Are we done now with the little stand-up show? Can we get on with it?” This time, Ben branded you with his dark stare.

You exhaled heavily, choosing to grant Ben this small amount of silence and Luther the opportunity to say his part, due to him bringing everyone together. The absence of Klaus and Viktor was starting to concern you. It was the not knowing part which bothered you, especially since there was this specific tradition in this family to not tell anyone anything. So, the chances of being absorbed by the Kugelblitz or being kidnapped were equally high. Or they just didn’t care to show up.

As soon as your gaze wandered around the room, the darkness emanated from Allison like a cloud, prompting you to slowly turn your head. Wisps of dark smoke encircled her being more and more by every second.

When Allison’s gaze almost found you reluctantly, you mouthed, “You good?”

The coldness in her eyes froze you in place, when she muttered, “Never better.”

Luther distracted you from your anxious mind when he stood up to face the families. “So, uh…” He cleared his throat. “This is kinda nice, right? All of us here together. One big happy family.” Luther chuckled before he bent down towards Sloane who was sitting in a chair across from you. “I feel like I’m sweaty. Am I sweating?”

“No, you’re fine.” Sloane whispered back reassuringly.

“Look, I know there’s been bad blood between us,” Ben admitted with a carefree voice, like everything which transpired between the families was just water under the bridge already. “Whatever. Bygones, right?”

Faking a smile to speed up the process, Ben pointed at Diego as soon as he raised his hand. “Question?”

“Yeah, if I kill you, do we get our Ben back?” He said, prompting Fei to snicker in jest.

You sighed, leaning back against the back of the couch. Diego must have sensed the grim expressions on Ben’s face and yours when he added, “Hypothetically.”

“Guys,” you admonished your brother. You felt the itch in your fingers before you finally relented and nervously nibbled on of the snacks which was laid out on the table like a small peace offering or a more strategic distraction. Knowing you would need the food to get you through the rest of the meeting.

“Keep talking, and your hand won’t be the only thing bleeding,” Ben hissed through gritted teeth.

“Okay, if the testosterone twins are done,” Five interrupted before a fight could fully break out between the Twos, “I’d like to get back to a plan.”

The sudden appearance of Viktor was a welcome distraction. But that was before you detected the yellow tendrils of fear wafting around him. Viktor rushed in, demanding answers while alternating his gaze between Allison and Ben. “Where is he? What did you do to Harlan?”

Ben had the good instinct to sneakily take a seat between Five and you. You were grateful that you functioned as a buffer next to Diego. He picked up the tub of cheese balls from the table and placed it in his lap, watching (and relishing) in rapt fascination the drama unfolding. You felt an altercation between Allison and Viktor about to boil over, not knowing whether to step in or letting it play out. Judging by Allison’s pain, you felt concerned if it could be contained for long.

“They didn’t do anything. I did. I killed Harlan,” Allison stated without emotion in her voice.

You knew better though. Allison’s eyes told you how this deplorable action wasn’t as easy for her as she wanted to let on.

The longer you remained in their vicinity—especially when Viktor was added to the mix—an almost deafening sensation grew in your ears. You tried to keep your emotions in check, afraid of what would happen if you would let it erupt. Sometimes you hated being this vessel of empathy. Like you were just along for the ride or were some sort of empty glass while the emotions of others filled you with water, making it a part of you. Leaving you to yourself while you tried to stop it from overspilling.

Sensing the overflowing feelings of rage and vindication from Allison’s side and the pain and grief on both sides, you experienced their conflict at parts like some sort of tunnel vision.

“Because he didn’t deserve to live,” Alison avowed, expecting it to be a given.

Uncomfortable silence prevailed the longer Allison and Viktor remained in their stalemate.

You tried to get your breathing under control and focused on anything else than the clashing of ideologies. Needing to distract yourself, you tried to hone in on Ben’s mischief taking over.

“Twenty bucks on the little one,” Ben whispered to Five before munching on his snack.

“I’ll take that action,” Five agreed quietly.

“I know Harlan killed all of our mothers.” Allison’s statement pulled you back after only listening to their voices halfheartedly.

Your siblings erupted into shocked reactions at that turn of events. “What?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Viktor attempted to appease the rest of his family, despite Five and Diego’s vexation slowly taking over. “He—I knew him. And he was sweet and kind until I made him like us. Okay? So, I screwed him up. And if you need someone to blame, I’m right here-”

Yet, Allison didn’t care for any redemption of Viktor. She turned confrontational while she was burning for a fight. “What makes you think I don’t?”

Your eyes widened anxiously at Allison’s aura shifting into a mixture of a darker red and almost black.

“This wasn’t about saving the world. This was about hurting me. Payback for-” Viktor grunted lowly.

Gingerly, yet menacingly, Allison moved to her feet. “Go on. Say her name.”

With your eyes closed, you clenched your hands into fists. “Can we please stop?” You mumbled quietly. The provoking words of your siblings echoed shallowly while your breathing was turning heavy.

Ben shifted his head in your direction at the shift of your breathing pattern. The tunnel vision was still happening when you felt Ben’s hand covering the edge of your back, but thankfully without touching the sliver of skin. Just letting his hand linger in place. His warmth was perhaps one of the only things keeping you centered in the moment without going insane. Or at least without releasing an exaggerated amount of energy to protect yourself.

“To what? Help me grieve? God, this whole family is so quick to tell me to suck up my pain and so worried about fixing yours! Somebody had to pay because you never seem to. Destroy the world, kill Pogo, almost kill me, and for what? So we can all run around and clean up your mess? I’m sick of it.”

You could feel Diego’s concerned gaze dwell on you. “Take it easy, Allison,” Five interjected.

“This isn’t helping,” Diego added, knowing that Allison wasn’t exactly known for respecting the boundaries of others when she felt attacked as a person.

Ben shushing at both siblings, and anyone who were trying to get between Allison and her thirst for vengeance, reminded you he was still being an asshole. Even if he was being nice when no one was looking.

You sighed, rejecting his offered touch by leaning forward. Ben’s grumpiness was more than obvious. If you didn’t already sense it growing in him, then it was the small grumbling noise he made while leaning back.

As soon as Viktor tried to say his part, Allison yelled, “Shut your mouth!”

From across the room, you felt Viktor choking from Allison’s power upgrade. But this didn’t end there when Allison kept screaming, “Every time I build a new life for myself, you end the world and take it from me!”

Feeling angry for Viktor’s sake, Luther jumped into action. “All right, that’s it. Knock off the power shit, Allison. It’s not okay!”

The gratification grew around her when Allison delivered one last blow. “We should have left you in the basement.”

The unrest of your siblings broke out when she crossed the line. Diego jumped up from the couch with the others, commanding resolutely, “Whoa! Allison, all right!”

Viktor finally had enough when he slapped her in the face with the back of his hand. After being asked about her well-being, Allison assured them, “I’m fine. Let’s continue.”

You wished it was that simple.

With his footsteps departing, Viktor shook off his hand with rage.

“Sweet. You guys fight just like us,” Ben commented with a smug grin on his face.

There was sadness and disappointment in Diego’s voice when he elaborated, “Nah, man. We don’t fight like this.”

Once the air felt clearer with the absence of Viktor—or at least without a face for Allison to get mad at—you managed to breathe normally again. Your body still felt shaky when you stood up, needing a moment to come to your senses again.

Luther seemed to have read your intentions correctly, when he said, “Hey, Y/N, where-”

Blinking wearily, you murmured hoarsely, “I need a moment. I think everyone could use a bit of a break,” before walking around the couch.

Unfortunately, that meant crossing the path of Allison who eyed you with apprehension. As much as you wanted to avoid the confrontation. Allison’s arms were crossed when she faced you.

She smirked crookedly, tilting her head. “Have you decided to manipulate my emotions? Take my anger away?”

You felt too tired for any sort of conflict to arise again. As much as there was a lot unsaid between you two. Unlike her, you didn’t believe in manipulating other people.

Inhaling deeply, you gathered your strength. Truth be told, you had no intention of hurting her. With that in mind, you still couldn’t stop the pain from showing on your face. “I thought you knew I don’t force myself onto others,” you said almost in disappointment before leaving the sitting room and any of that lingering darkness behind. It felt way too obvious when the air you breathed seemed cleaner, less of a struggle.

You barely walked a few steps down the hallway when you heard slow footsteps follow behind.

“Where are you going?” The voice of Ben inquired expectantly behind you.

You sighed before you slowly turned around to face him. “I need some fresh air. Going up to the roof.” You smiled sarcastically. “Sorry I can’t enjoy the show.”

Ben looked over his shoulder to keep track of where the others were. The glittering in his eyes revealed his intentions before he even spoke. “You want to see my room?” Ben’s idea of flirting entailed him placing his hands in his pockets and letting the muscles in his arms flex.

As much as his concept of fun would serve as a nice distraction, you still couldn’t help the little awkward smile on your face. “You think the air’s better there?”

The earnestness in Ben’s eyes couldn’t fully diminish the mischief he had in mind when his eyes wandered up the stairs. “Well, it’s definitely secluded. No one’s going to bother you there.” His suggestion turned into something more teasing. “You could see how it looks in broad daylight.”

Leave it to Ben to try to cheer you up while the situation was so dire.

You chuckled. “Sure. No ulterior motives at all.”

Ben covered his chest in mock hurt. “Moi? What do you think of me? I’m just a nice guy who’s offering his private quarters as a small sanctuary for you.”

You nodded, pursing your lips. Remembering how he could stir some trouble when it was fun for him before choosing to go in a completely different direction when it suited him. “Sure, nice guy.” You braced your hands against your waist. “Would you also give that offer to Diego?”

Ben’s face remained blank. “Right. Are we talking about the guy with the stupid hat or with his knife kink?” When you didn’t rise to the bait, he continued, “Don’t worry, I don’t care about their names. My hospitality does have its limits after all. Besides, you’re one of the few people I don’t mind being up there. You know, maybe I could help you take your mind off of things.” Ben offered, stroking your arm through your clothing.

It was with reluctance when you pulled away. “As much as a distraction would be appreciated, I need to be alone right now. Unless you still want that anxiety attack while being around me.”

Nonetheless, the reminder made him smirk. “Promises, promises.”

“Whatever you guys decide, I’m all for. Clearly you don’t need me for it.”

You still had your eyes closed when you heard the door on the rooftop slide shut. With your hands on your stomach, you were lying down on the cornice and enjoying some peace and quiet. The sensation of the familiar aura reached you, instantly letting you know who it was that joined you.

You breathed in deeply, thrumming your fingers against your abdomen. “I wasn’t aware that I gave off the impression that I wanted company?”

“I was being more than generous by waiting five minutes before coming out here,” Ben hissed, like it went without saying that he would show up.

You smiled serenely. “What a gentleman,” you whispered teasingly. Ben seemed to be in one of his moods. Judging by that, you surmised he met another of your siblings or one of his own who soured his attitude.

The auditory perception of a city burning from the assimilation of the Kugelblitz rang in the distance. The only thing out of place in this universe. With you lying on the cornice it felt like the good ol’ times … if you tried to ignore the abuse and trauma being inflicted on by Reginald.

Ben placed his arms next to your head and leaned his body against the waist-high parapet, exhaling loudly.

You cleared your throat, deciding to take his bait. “Something on your mind?”

Ben didn’t need more prompting when he just as quickly replied, “You know, your emo brother is really something else. I mean, being stubborn just to stick it to someone or because they didn’t get an apology? Talk about pathetic and spiteful.”

So, it was frustrated Ben who needed to vent.

You sent him a small smile, watching him upside-down. Or more like to the side. “Yes, because you could never be spiteful.”

Ben waved a hand in vehement agreement. Humor was shining in his eyes when he smiled. “Exactly. You really get me.”

He eyed the bricks in the low wall. “Sloane, Lila and Christopher are going to work together to contain it. Viktor, as well, if he finally gets off his butt.”

“That’s good.” You blinked at him, feeling like he was reluctant to tell something else. Which didn’t feel like Ben.

“I came here because I told the others they would need your help in beating this thing.”

Astonishment filled your belly with uncomfortable heat. The blood rushed to your head despite you slowly sitting up. Your feet dangled at the sides of the wall. “Why would you do that?” You said with a husky voice.

“You have all these abilities at your fingertips, you just won’t use them.”

You shrugged your shoulders, surprised by Ben’s insistence. At feeling enraged on your behalf. Especially since he only knew you less than a week. “I’m just an Empath. I can’t control stuff which … probably isn’t even human.”

“You’re not—you’re not just one thing. Do you even see what you’re capable of? I’ve seen it. I mean, converting energy? Projecting illusions? And you’re supposed to be Number Eight? What the hell?”

“The numbers don’t really mean anything. I mean, Viktor is like Number Seven.” Even you could hear that your arguments sounded feeble. After so many times of being told to be one thing by Reginald Hargreeves, it felt like second nature to tell Ben you weren’t what he said you were. It felt surreal to have someone other than Diego in your corner claiming you were more than you wanted to acknowledge.

Ben shook his head. “In another universe, you could’ve been a Sparrow. I mean, what just happened in there?” He pointed back to the Academy. “You could’ve influenced everyone in there and be done with this shit.”

“That’s not me. I do that to people who hurt us. Not my own family.”

“No, that’s not it. You know what I think? You’re just so scared to show your true potential. Show them what you can do. I’ve seen you. If you were able to blast me away by creating a shield of kinetic energy, you should be able to hold something else in place.”

You narrowed your eyes at Ben’s advocacy on your behalf, feeling overwhelmed by his mere presence. “Why are you so adamant in analyzing all of my powers? Is this your plan to recruit me? You already gained Luther. What else do you want?”

“I’m trying to help you. You could be so much more than just the girl who feels stuff around her,” Ben said with utter passion in his voice, making the veins in his neck protrude.

“Wow, I’m being psychoanalyzed by you because I’d rather not take care of a ball of lightning? So, tell me, what else am I supposed to be afraid of?” Yes, you were being defensive, but maybe a small part of you actually wanted to hear someone state objectively—more or less—that you could hold your own to someone like Allison or Viktor.

Well, Viktor was kind of a big deal. You favored the possible outcome of at least standing firm against him for about five minutes or without instantly dying.

“You’re terrified of losing them. How they would react to the magnitude of your true self. You think everyone is like Dad. But they’re not. Screw everyone else if they are.”

Wow, resilient Ben was something else. Especially if he defied—at least mentally—someone like his father. Knowing it would be a long time coming before he would actually turn away from him.

You remained silent, trying to process his analysis before you finally found your voice again. “Did you give Viktor the same pep talk when you tried to rouse his participation?”

Ben smirked at the memory. “You know I can be very inspiring.” He sighed heavily, offering his hand. As if it took a lot out of him to even provide the gesture. “Come on.”

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. After some hesitation, you exhaled and reached forward until you felt the warmth of his hand. Trying to pretend you didn’t sense Ben’s respect for you once you touched his bare skin. He helped you down from the cornice.

You sighed, knowing that time was of the essence. “Let’s just do this.”

As soon as Ben and you headed down to the basement, you noticed how both families were already gathered.

Five turned around, with his arms crossed. “Nice of you to join us. Wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Diego wearily rolled his eyes. “Five’s just being Five. He didn’t have his coffee yet. We could use your magic touch, you know.”

Truth be told, Five always felt like a dark horse to you. And someone who behaved like an old man when he finally blinked back. Sometimes you just wished that you could actually get to know him. Not just the stories of legendary status about the outlier of the family who first defied Reginald. It felt like this was the only thing keeping you from truly becoming a part of this family. As much as you yearned to be. Running from one apocalypse to the next didn’t make you feel like Five even had the time to get to know the newest member of the family.

“You okay, kid?” Diego asked quietly, appraising your eyes for any mental harm shining through.

You nodded calmly to cease him from worrying too much. Something else caught your eye though. With wariness you scrutinized the Kugelblitz in the center of the basement. “So, that’s the thing, huh?”

Fei stepped forward. “If you mean the entity which is responsible for the collapse of micro black holes absorbing everything around it, then yes.”

“And absorbing billions of people so far. I don’t think we have a lot of time,” you said anxiously.

“No time like the present then.” Ben clapped his hands once, ready to get rid of the universal threat for good.

“Okay, how do we start?” Viktor inquired with a curious mindset.

Sloane did the honors of explaining. “Have you ever moved a nest of bees? You can’t just pick it up. You have to keep the nest calm while you build a box around it, and then you trap it.” Her eyes met yours. “Ben said you could contain it. Keep your shield over mine.”

You merely nodded in understanding.

“One of those black holes inside is vibrating at a different rate,” Fei continued.

“I can feel them.” Viktor nodded.

“Good. Whatever happens, don’t let them speed up or change, or everything will blow.”

“Don’t shake the bees. Got it,” Viktor replied to Fei.

He started it off by becoming paler and controlling the vibration frequency, with Lila mimicking his actions. As soon as Sloane used her gravitational powers to condense it, you pushed forth a telekinetic shield from within to keep the entity contained.

Grace’s voice spoke faintly from the stairs. “You didn’t tell me you were building a prison for God.”

“Mom?” Diego asked confusedly.

“The day of vengeance was in my heart and my year of redemption hath come,” she said ominously before pointing a flamethrower towards anyone standing in her way.

You kept one hand focused on the ball of lightning while stretching out your other arm, using an encircling shield to keep them safe. Inadvertently, the flames started to lick Grace’s skin. “Does anyone mind? Not good at multitasking here,” you said while keeping your eyes set on this universe destroyer.

Five had the good sense to blink her away before Diego would have to take care of his surrogate mother himself.

The moment when everything was calm again, Christopher disintegrated into smaller cube pieces, containing the Kugelblitz. You watched in suspense, feeling Ben move closer to you.

Sloane held Luther’s hand. “Next Kugelwave in three, two, one.”

Everyone held their breath. Counting the seconds after the destruction was supposed to take place. Almost like you expected something wrong to happen.

You were studying Christopher when the sentient box released a fart.

Exhaling a breath of relief, you looked at the others while chuckling.

You could swear you even heard him utter audible sounds which sounded close to, “Oh, was that me?”

The Sparrows certainly knew how to party and have a good time. Once the Kugelblitz had been dealt with, Sparrows and Umbrellas alike danced and drank together. Diego was a good sport by cutting off the top of champagne bottles with a katana before Ben poured the alcohol into the flutes of any willing participants.

You had the perfect view from the couch while Ben was getting sloshed and kept on filling Five’s champagne glass. It was actually hilarious to witness.

Diego was having fun dancing while balancing the longsword and jostling Ben from behind every time he tried drinking straight from the bottle.

You eyed the approaching company joining your lonesome self.

“Is someone having fun?” Fei asked with a smile.

You lifted your glass for show. “Already did. This is me relaxing and enjoying myself.”

“I saw that. You and Sloane seem close.”

You narrowed your eyes, remembering you dancing with Luther, Diego and Sloane at times. Your relationship to the Sparrows was slightly less tense than you were used to. But due to the power struggles within that family and maybe some hesitation in your own family, you still decided to keep your distance from Ben.

Despite the dark-eyed stares he was sending you from across the room. You remembered the few times when he leaned his body against your back while playfully filling up your glass when it was starting to empty. Ben’s body language was more than obvious that he wouldn’t mind a few dances with you. But you also knew he would never do that, especially with his family members watching.

“Well, of course, she’s a sweetheart. Not to mention, Luther’s lady love.”

Fei hummed. “So, you like solitude, huh?”

“Sometimes. Keeps me calm.”

“Well, Allison just left, so your mood should definitely increase by not feeling her presence.”

You shrugged. “As long as Viktor and Allison are not in the same vicinity, sure.”

“That was some good work you did in the basement. It really makes me wonder though … the fact that your family didn’t advocate your skills in the first place. I mean, why would my brother throw your hat in the ring? He seemed really certain … that you would deliver.”

Fei’s suspicious mind being disguised as interest didn’t put you at ease. “What do you mean? He just wanted this entity out of his basement. The sooner, the better. Now he has one less thing to worry about.”

“Just curious about his involvement, that’s all.” Fei braced her arm against the backrest of the sofa and leaned closer in a secretive manner. Giving off an impression which bordered on threatening and being your best friend. “Sounds very altruistic. The problem with that is, Ben isn’t the selfless kind, he always has something else in mind. I mean, he mentions your name and instead of sending one of your brothers, he’s getting you himself? Sounds interesting, don’t you think?”

Your eyes caught Ben who was already staring at you and Fei with a frown. You gazed speculatively at Fei again. “Is there still some internal power struggle I should know about?”

Fei threw her head back to cackle, like you had said the most entertaining thing ever. “Isn’t there always?”

You bit your lower lip and stood up. “Why the curiosity?”

Fei remained seated when she looked up at you. “Someone has to keep their guard up. I’d hate for you to turn into my enemy,” she said monotonously, so matter-of-factly.

“Ditto.” You checked your surroundings to watch out for the remaining guests. Noticing how Lila just followed after a departing Diego. Maybe it was time to slowly hit the road while things were somewhat amicable. “You know what? I think I’m going to hit the kitchen if that’s okay. I need to get some food into me.”

She waved a hand to indicate her consent. “You do that.”

~ Ben POV ~

The moment when you left the room, Ben was certain something had happened. The strange look you sent him before was the first clue that something was off. He grabbed Fei’s arm when she was about to cross the room. “What did you do, Fei?”

She smiled innocently. “Do? I didn’t do anything. Just had a little chat with your Empath.”

Fei calling you by that nickname left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Ben spoke through gritted teeth, “About what?”

She tilted her head to stare straight at him. “You, of course. You’re quite fascinated with her, aren’t you?”

Ben let out a scoff before smirking. “So, you can’t see it? What she’s capable of? Someone who can control the feelings of others? Unlike you, I see the big picture. Proves why you’re not Number One, huh?” He turned his head, knowing that the party was winding down. “You’re saying she left already?”

Fei crossed her arms and enunciated, “Your little Empath was just hungry.”

Absentmindedly, you appreciated the cold taste of Rocky Road in your mouth while sitting at the kitchen table.

“So, this is your idea of celebrating?”

Not realizing you were being watched since you were so distracted from your wayward thoughts, you looked up to see Ben leaning against the doorjamb. “This is me eating my fill.” You let your scoop-filled spoon hover in the air and smiled giddily. You glanced down, taking out another spoonful. “You know, since I’m having a taste of you.”

Ben tilted his head, huffing with small laughter. “Sounds hot.”

You rolled your eyes at that dirty mind of his and moaned, letting the frozen dessert melt in your mouth. “Not like that. You guys even have an ice cream brand and actually keep that stuff here.”

“Right.” With that, he stepped forward into the kitchen.

“I mean, it’s alright. Probably way too overpriced.” Your enthusiasm awakened and you turned your head to look at Ben. “Wait, does Christopher have a flavor?”

“Birthday cake.”

“Huh, not what I expected. Weirdly fits,” you muttered under your breath and shook your head to clear your head. “Anyway, just decided to have something to eat, otherwise I would just fall asleep. Fei said it was okay.”

Ben wandered to the cupboards, opening and shutting drawers. “There is still a bed, you know. Still hasn’t changed.”

You chuckled, pointing with your thumb behind you without looking. “Behind me.”

He pulled out a spoon and arrogantly waved it around. “Right, I knew that.”

You nodded, pursing your lips at his make-believe. “Sure you did.”

Ben got himself a taste after sitting on the bar stool diagonally across from you.

You slid the tub closer to the middle of the wooden table. “Besides, don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He didn’t seem to agree when he frowned in confusion. “Why is that?”

You laughed, like it should’ve been obvious. “Because of your sister? She probably has her crow spies everywhere. Especially after today.”

Ben chuckled to himself and widened his eyes sarcastically. “Wow, get over yourself, you’re not that special. Was just offering a bed. Purely platonic.”

“Don’t be such an asshole.”

“Told you, I’m nice guy Ben.”

His statement made you observe him silently and place your fist under your chin. “Sure you are.”

“I heard the two of you had a conversation. What did Fei want to talk about?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not getting in the middle of whatever it is the two of you are playing.”

“Can’t change the nature of people.” Ben licked the cold treat from his lips. “Still didn’t answer the question. What made you want to flee for the kitchen?”

Sarcasm made your eyes light up. “A healthy appetite.”

“If you say so.”

“Not going to divulge more, in case you want to further examine the details of my powers into your Eight dossier.” Sometimes you had to catch yourself from saying more. Since you had been seconds away from straight-out telling him that overexerting yourself just made you hungry in general. And if it was a good enough excuse to evade Ben’s sister, then so be it.

Narrowing his eyes in incredulity, Ben felt disgruntled for your sake. “Is that such a bad thing wanting you to expand your powers?”

“Not if it’s just your intent to gain some sort of upper hand.”

Ben’s eyes darkened seductively when he pointed his spoon at you. “You’re saying I still can’t persuade you just a little bit to join our little ragtag group of Sparrows?”

You leaned your body forward mischievously. “Are you saying I can’t appeal to you to join our band of misfits instead?”

Ben scoffed loudly, straightening up in his seat. “Hard pass.”

A self-assured expression lingered on your face when you spoke with a dry tone. “Right. Who knew our families could work together after all?”

“Oh please, only a few of them are bearable.”

With warmth in your cheeks, you felt yourself gush, “Look at you making friends. I’m so proud of you.”

Ben smirked mockingly. “You’re hilarious.”

Your mind went back to the party, remembering the unusual side of Ben just having fun. “Were you trying to get Five drunk?”

Ben chuckled. “Someone’s got to keep the old man in line.”

“Priorities, hmm?” You sighed, looking outside the window above the sink and noticing how dark it already was. “Anyway, I have to go. You know, not to overstay our welcome. Thanks for the dessert.” You closed the lid of the tub and jumped down from your seat.

He smiled sardonically. “I wish I could say ‘Anytime’, but, you know, still got a reputation to uphold.” Ben copied your stance, staring directly at you under the dim lighting.

Willing to play his little charade, you smiled softly. “Of course you do,” you retorted, wordlessly taking the spoons and placing them in the sink. You heard Ben stash the ice cream back into the freezer before he closed the refrigerator with a dull thud. You could feel your skin getting warmer the longer he was watching you intently.

You tilted your head in concentration and felt your eyes light up when Ben’s emotional state came in waves towards you. “Why the curiosity?” You turned around until you were gazing at Ben.

With a rough and quiet voice, he twirled his finger while muttering, “Turn back around.”

Pursing your lips with a humming sound, you followed his request and looked through the window which oversaw the courtyard. “You don’t expect me to tell you where the knives are, do you?”

Ben snorted at your imagination. “You think this is an elaborate ploy to stab you to death?”

“I don’t know, Brutus. Could be an interesting endgame.”

“Then tell me, what do you feel right now?”

You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply to center yourself. “Your playfulness, your curiosity.” You opened your eyes again when something else reached you. “Oh wow, you can’t wait to touch me, huh?”

Exasperation was added to the mix when he stepped closer. Ben exhaled heavily before you could feel his presence behind you. His warm breath tickled the back of your neck and his fingers danced around the nape of your neck, gently brushing your hair to the side.

“Are those goosebumps?” Ben purred.

You chuckled, watching Ben’s reflection through the window. “To spare your ego, I think I’m gonna have to decline to answer.”

“What’s that?” He asked, stroking the ink on the back of your neck.

You licked your lips almost in anticipation. “It’s called a tattoo. I don’t know if you guys have that in this universe.”

Ben ignored your amusing nature when you threw him a sassy look over your shoulder. “What’s it stand for?”

“What makes you think it stands for anything?” You whispered, getting lost in this intimate atmosphere.

Frowning in concentration, Ben analyzed the tattoo. You already knew what he was looking at. The base of two pyramids overlapping and facing each other, with a respective line drawn horizontally beneath the apex of both triangle shapes. His fingers carefully traced the shapes before he spoke slowly, “For sure. Very intricate lines. You probably picked this because you thought it looked cool, right?”

“I made the draft. Klaus was the one who held the needle.”

“And Klaus is … who?”

“The guy you punched?” When Ben showed no further reaction, you continued, “When we arrived?”

“Right. For a second I confused him with knife boy. Since, you know, mentally, I punched your knife brother-”

You rolled your eyes and interjected, “Diego.”

Like you hadn’t said a thing, Ben continued, “Countless of times in my head.”

You sighed, remembering the pure form of testosterone being released every time they faced each other. “You two shouldn’t even be in the room together.”

Ben’s voice turned mockingly lighthearted. “Oh, you promise?” It shifted into something mildly curious. “Keep going.”

You teasingly asked, “What do you think it means?”

“Putting me in the spot again? Alright. If it’s coming from you, they’re probably … the alchemy symbols for the four elements?”

He already knew.

You huffed, lightly shoving him back with your shield of energy. “Fucking asshole.” You turned your body. Despite your furrowed brows, an astonished smile still lingered on your face. You had to respect him for the hustle he was playing while pretending otherwise. Or at least his subterfuge as a way to touch your skin.

Ben braced himself against the jostling chairs with his hands while one tentacle shot out to keep his balance. Slightly taken aback by your vehement reaction, he chuckled, letting pure joy shine in his eyes. “Wow, was this as hot for you as it was for me? I like this version of you.”

You chose to ignore his idea of flirting. “I can’t believe you were trying to screw with me.”

The tentacle retracted into his stomach again. “I wasn’t. Well, not totally. Doesn’t explain the reason behind it. Why the four elements?”

“I figured after Reginald forced this tattoo on us, I should choose for myself what I really want to do with my body. And I learned while Klaus and I were experimenting with his recreational stuff-”

You appreciated the small moment of real and unguarded whimsy in Ben’s eyes. Something candid than just the sarcastic kind.

“I learned that my powers would enhance when I was connected to some of those elements. Like some sort of physical conduit. Showed me that everything was connected around me. That my mind could settle when everything around me was calm.”

His body language shifted into something more calculating with his next words. “Maybe you should just influence your environment, so you can finally calm your mind.”

“That would be more like a temporary solution.”

“Perhaps you should just stick with me. This way I can show you a better perspective than what your family is offering you.” Ben placed his hands in his pockets. “It could help you sleep better at night.” Almost like he was reminding you of his proposal, he widened his arms. “Offer still stands, you know.”

You chuckled. “Maybe next time,” you said, merely delaying the inevitable. With a small sigh, you advanced towards him until there was barely any distance separating the two of you. With delicate motions, you touched his neck, letting warmth wander through your fingertips.

His skin started to glow dimly under your hand. Wordlessly, he covered your hand with his. A part of you wanted to believe that he wanted you to burrow yourself deeper into him.

Ben inhaled deeply. “I’ll hold you up to that.”

Tagging: @cherryinsalemverse @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @lelaamela @kit-k4t @callsignwidow

#steph writes #watchtowerindistress #ben hargreeves x you #ben hargreeves x reader #sparrow!ben x you #sparrow!ben hargreeves x reader #sparrow!ben hargreeves #sparrow!ben x reader #the empath and the eldritch horror #tua imagine #the umbrella academy imagine #tua x reader #tua x you #tua x y/n

20 notes · View notes

jgmartin · 1 year

Text

THE TALL THINGS ARE WATCHING

We can’t leave the house.

They’ve boarded up our doors and windows, started shooting people trying to break free. There are things in the streets. Tall things. I see their shadows sometimes as they run past the wooden boards. I hear the rumble of their feet.

I don’t know what they are. None of us do.

They cut our access to television and the internet when the lockdown began. They even took out the cell tower. Anne said they didn’t want us communicating with the outside world, telling them about what’s going on out here. I think she’s right.

It’s been two weeks since the men in suits came by. They said they worked for government intelligence and that they were looking for a terrorist. They didn’t strike me as government types, personally. They looked distracted. Spaced out. More like Scientologists than CIA agents, but then I’ve never met a Scientologist or a CIA agent, so who was I to tell the difference?

Either way, they said it would be over soon, and they sounded official. More importantly, they had guns. “We’ll need to search every household,” they explained. “We can’t have anybody leaving before we’ve cleared their property, so we’ll have to board you in.”

It made sense, I guess. In a twisted dystopian nightmare sort of way. It made sense all the way up until the end of the fourth night, when the Tall Things started roaming the streets. They were dressed in long raincoats. Hooded. The way they moved gave me the chills, all jerky and snapping, so I stayed away from the windows.

Anne didn’t mind though. She was fascinated by them. Her and our gun-nut neighbor, Old Ty, exchanged theories written on pieces of cardboard, holding them up to the glass of our windows. GOVERNMENT EXPERIMENT, she wrote on hers. ALIEN INVASION, he wrote on his.

At first, it seemed to just be a bit of innocent, morbid fun. Finding some humor in a bizarre situation. Then Anne watched one of the Tall Things kill somebody, and everything changed.

It was an elderly man in our cul-de-sac, Mister Douglas. Anne watched him open his door, hammer down the boards as one of the Tall Things walked by. He shouted at it. Told it to get over here so he could see just what kind of unholy bullshit his tax dollars were being used to fund.

Next thing you know, there’s sirens in the streets. Soldiers rushing his home. There’s a megaphone shouting at him to get back inside. All of it is useless. All of it happens far too late, because the moment Douglas starts yelling at the Tall Thing, it starts to twitch and jerk like it can’t control its own behavior. Like a predator hungry for a meal.

It snaps its head toward Douglas, then tears across his lawn and snaps him up in its long, spider-like hands. It lifts him off the ground. Then, he screams. He screams and he screams until the Tall Thing lowers the hood of its rain jacket, and then Douglas goes pale as a ghost. Silent.

According to Anne, that’s when the skin of his face started to bubble and pop. That’s when he started hissing out steam, smoking as his flesh sizzled beneath his clothes, as if he were boiling alive from the inside out. Next thing you know, he’s dripping onto the pavement. Dripping and dripping until there’s nothing left of him but a puddle of flesh and clothes.

Nobody tries to step in. Not any of the soldiers, not Anne, and not even Old Ty and all his guns. Everybody watches in stunned silence as the Tall Thing finishes its execution and saunters away.

The soldiers roam with them. The soldiers and the people in long white clothes. Anne says they’re lab coats, and the people are researchers studying the Tall Things as experiments, but I think they look more like robes– like clergymen. All of them wear helmets with tinted visors. It’s as though they don’t want to get a good look at the things.

After Mr. Douglas, more people on the block decided to make a break for it. Maybe they realized this was worse than they thought. Maybe they started wondering what the point of keeping us locked away like this was– were we food for these creatures? Were they trying to turn us into them?

None of us knew. All we could say for certain is that the killing didn’t stop with Mr. Douglas. I woke up one morning to see several of my neighbors shot dead in their yards, their lifeless eyes gazing back at me from the grass. Nobody came to pick them up. They were left there to rot, picked apart by birds and stray dogs.

Soon, gunshots were ringing out at all hours of the day. People wanted out, but the soldiers wouldn’t let them leave, and so the bodies began to pile up. Eventually I think Anne and I were the only two left alive in our cul-de-sac. Even Old Ty had seemed to vanish. Probably shot dead in his backyard.

I’d rarely known death in my life, and now the sheer volume of it was numbing me. I couldn’t process it. I didn’t know how. But then, almost out of the blue the government had a change of heart. Or maybe they just shifted tactics. Suddenly they began letting people leave.

I saw it first with a house at the very end of the road. I watched the woman who lived there break out with a baby tucked in her arm and a grade-schooler holding her hand. The three of them darted across their lawn, jumped over their father’s corpse and piled into their minivan on the street.

The entire time, a soldier and white-coat stood only meters away, quietly observing. It didn’t take long for the rumbling to begin– that telltale sound of approaching death, of one of the Tall Things coming to claim its prize. The van started up, backfiring a plume of exhaust into the air. I listened as the woman shrieked for joy, but I knew the joy would be short lived.

See, from my vantage point at the end of the lane, I saw something that she never could. The boot locked around her rear tire. The van rode forward as she pressed the gas, and then clunked to a stop. My heart broke. The look on her face, the desperation wasn’t for her– it was for her children in the back.

The rumble reached a crescendo, and in the blink of an eye a Tall Thing crashed into the van and knocked it over like a diecast toy. I couldn’t make out much beyond that. Nothing but the sound of the monster tearing into the roof of the van and pulling the crying children out one by one while their mother begged for mercy.

If I were a better, stupider man I may have kicked down my door and tried to save them, but I wasn’t. I was a coward. Instead, I fell to my living room carpet and cried. I laid there and listened as their flesh popped and sizzled, as their skin fell to the pavement in long, heavy drips.

It’s a sound I’ll never forget.

The next day, things got worse. The soldiers no longer cared about enforcing the lockdown or even keeping people safely indoors. Now they were breaking them out. Like hungry wolves, they tore down boarded-up doors and kicked in living room windows, dragging families out onto their lawns for slaughter. If the screams were horrible before, now they were unbearable. You couldn’t ignore them. Anne and I cranked our sound system to the max, but it only served as background static. The dying cut through everything.

That night we barely slept. Anne tossed and turned beside me, while I stared blankly at the ceiling fan above. There was an understanding between us. We had been abandoned. There was nobody coming to help us, nobody coming to arrest these monsters and save the day. We were alone.

How long until her and I were dragged out of our home? How long until we became the next experiment chained to our fence, waiting to be attacked by one of those creatures? Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Neither of us knew, and somehow that made it all the worse.

I woke up to sunlight peeking through our boarded-up bedroom window. Anne was missing. I looked all over the house for her before I found her note on the kitchen counter, scribbled quickly.

I know you’re afraid, the note read, but I have to leave. You might think we’ll make it through this, that once they’ve had their fill of guinea pigs they’ll let the rest of us go free, but I promise you they’ll come for us soon. This might be my last chance. Since you won’t come with me, I’m going alone. I wish I could have said a proper goodbye, but I know you’d try to stop me.

Love always,

- Anniebear

She left through the basement hatch. I know this because I spotted her corpse some five feet away through our kitchen window. She gazed back at me, a look of shock painted across her pale face, with a small red dot where the bullet pierced her skull. I couldn’t even muster the courage to step out and bury her. Instead the racoons and dogs took care of her, one piece at a time.

She was right, though. Eventually they did come for me.

It was over a week later. By then I didn’t have the will to resist. I waited patiently at the kitchen table, drunk with a glass of whiskey as soldiers and white-coats dragged me from the house. When I’d seen it happen to other people, it seemed to occur so quickly. Now, it happened in slow motion.

I heard every word from the soldier's mouth. Every command. First, he patted me down and ensured I was disarmed, then he told me this was all routine and nothing to worry about. Together they took me out into my yard. The white-coat asked me if I had lived a good life, if I had been a man of faith. I didn’t know what to say. Maybe I was simply too drunk, or maybe I truly didn’t care anymore.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” the white-coat assured me. “You’ll be at peace once it’s over, brother.”

In the distance came the growing rumble of the monster’s feet. Of the Tall Thing coming to claim its bounty.

“How many more after this?” the soldier asked the white-coat, his hand painfully gripping my shoulder.

“Sixteen.”

“Then us, sister?”

“Then us.”

The rumbling deepened. The Tall Thing was getting closer, and soon my heart was beating in sync with its stampeding footfalls. Memories flashed in my mind. Memories of Anne, of my dead neighbors, of the mother who lived at the end of the road and her children, now puddles of flesh on the pavement. My hands became fists. Indignation and fury grew inside of me, stoked by whisky fumes.

“Why do this?” I growled. “Why not just put a bullet in my head?”

“Because we love you, brother,” said the white-coat. “You waited patiently. You had faith, and for that you will be rewarded with salvation. You will be raptured.”

The Tall Thing rounded the corner, its legs slapping against the ground in great strides. Its frame eclipsed the moon, casting a shadow across me and stealing the breath from my lungs. It slowed down as it reached my lawn, sauntering this way and that.

“What are they?” I whispered.

“The ones that made us,” the white-coat replied. “Those that gave us life.”

I shrank away as the Tall Thing neared, but the soldier shoved me forward. “Be strong, brother. Show it your conviction. We were brought to this planet long ago, but now our time is served and we’re finally going home. Don’t you want to go home?”

The Tall Thing reached up to its hood. As it did, the soldier’s grip loosened and both he and the white-coat stepped to the side, away from the creature’s view. I would not scream, I told myself. No matter what, I wouldn’t give these monsters the satisfaction of my terror.

It pulled back on its hood, and something grotesque looked down on me. It was as if a hundred different faces had been stitched together, fused into an abomination that seemed to smile from fifteen mouths. “We come in peace,” it said.

My teeth bit into my cheeks, clenching them closed. A whimper escaped me, a whimper and a groan as my stomach filled with a soup of boiling horror. I would not scream. No matter the pain-- I would not scream.

Its long, spindly hands gripped my face. It cocked its head to the side, a hundred different eyes blinking back at me. Then it tugged at the bottom of my mouth.

But I wasn’t going to let it have its way. I clenched my jaw, holding it closed. The creature blinked at me. Then it repositioned its grip.

Crack.

It snapped my jaw like cardboard. I roared in agony, my lower mouth hanging limply from my face. Tears fell from my eyes in a torrent.

“Shh,” it whispered, slipping a finger down my throat. I choked and gagged. It fished its finger around as a hundred different eyes rolled back, and fifteen mouths began muttering an alien language.

I struggled against it, pulling at its arm but it was useless. The monster was too strong. Then a gunshot rang out.

And another. The Tall Thing wheeled around, dropping me onto my lawn as the soldier began shouting into his radio. The next second, a bullet found the soldier in the head. The white-coat shrieked, fleeing around my fence as a round caught her in the shoulder. The Tall Thing shot up to its full height, standing level with the street lamps and then sprinted toward the shooter.

Toward Old Ty.

He’d set up a killzone on his roof, surrounded by rifles and ammo. He’d waited for a moonless night to do his business, and now he was raining lead onto the creature like a blizzard of death. “What are you waiting for?” he bellowed. “Get moving, dipshit!”

I did. I stole away, hiding in shrubs and behind sheds, watching as Tall Things came roaring down streets, jumping over houses and knocking over cars as they tried to reach Old Ty. He only lasted a few minutes. That’s when the shooting stopped, but it was enough time for me to get away.

Maybe enough time for others, too.

It took me three hours to hike through Debby Forest and make it to the next town, and once I did I breathed a sigh of relief. There weren’t any soldiers. No white-coats. Most importantly, there weren’t any Tall Things melting people in their clothes. Just quiet stillness, the thing early mornings were meant for.

I made my way to the sheriff’s department to blow the whistle on what was going on. To explain that people were being shot, that Tall Things were melting people on the street and that we needed to get our ass in gear and call in the National Guard– no, scratch that. We needed to call in fucking NATO.

But as I got to the door of the precinct I stopped. Something gleamed in the corner of my eye, catching my attention. It was there, at the edge of the curb. A puddle.

Strange thing was, it hadn’t rained in weeks.

#creepypasta #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writerslife #writers #writing #creative writing #writing community #original writing #horror #writblr #writer things #short fiction #short story #sci fi horror #jgmartin #the tall things

233 notes · View notes

serickswrites · 1 month

Text

Lonely Place of Longing II

Master list here (includes bios, summary, and chapter links)

Warnings: captivity of sorts, restraints, torture, unconsciousness, wounds, blood, crucifixion mentioned, collapsed lung, chest tube, medical whump, dislocation, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Halle spent the next couple of days just orienting herself to Tectus as she hadn’t yet completely assumed her duties as Dylan’s keeper, her team’s quarters, and trying very hard to not forget everyone’s names. The latter was proving to be more difficult than she initially thought. Everyone really should have name tags.

The one team member she could remember beside Thomas was Dylan. And who could forget Dylan. The living weapon that she was in charge of. She had not spent any more one on one time with Dylan. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching.

Dylan fascinated Halle. In a morbid curiosity sort of way. The weapon only ever left his quarters—which Halle figured was a suite of three rooms: a bedroom, bathroom, and med bay—when Thomas and two other team members came to fetch him. He didn’t even leave to take his meals. Someone always brought Dylan his meal and waited outside while Dylan ate.

Sometimes the team member would speak with Dylan, usually gruffly, but Dylan always murmured his replies. He ducked his head low any time food was brought. He never complained when there wasn’t utensils—Halle realized some team members didn’t feel safe with Dylan having silverware—or when the meager portion was cold. He merely thanked the team member and returned to his room to eat alone.

The most Halle observed Dylan talk was when a team member rolled a library cart into the hall. Dylan was a voracious reader. Halle supposed that was the only thing he could do in his room all day. Dylan gave reviews of each book he returned to the cart whether or not the team member—usually Benjamin—wanted to hear the reviews or not. Dylan made requests each time as well, though some books were harder to get than others.

“I couldn’t find that one here,” Benjamin said as he handed Dylan back the list from the previous week.

“Are you sure? I could have sworn we had the others in our library, perhaps—“

“Well, I couldn’t find it. I asked Thomas to order it. We’ll see when it gets here,” Benjamin snapped.

Dylan hung his head. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.” He took his large stack of books off the cart and retreated back into his room, closing the door quietly.

With a pang of guilt, Halle realized that Dylan had no source of entertainment other than books. He couldn’t go outside except for on missions, he couldn’t roam Tectus, and he didn’t have a TV. These were all things that Halle took for granted.

Halle chased after Benjamin. “Wait!” She called as she hurried after Benjamin.

“Hey, Halle,” Benjamin said as he stopped his cart. “What can I do for you?”

“What was the name of the book?”

“What book?” Benjamin raised an eyebrow.

“The one that Dylan wanted. What’s the name of the book?” Maybe if she could read the book it would give her better insight into the weapon.

Benjamin rolled his eyes. “Oh, that one. Honestly, I don’t know why he wants this book so bad. He’s asked for it about six or seven times. I finally had to put a requisition order in with Thomas. Of course it may take a while for it to come in.”

“What’s it called?” Halle persisted.

“Uhhh Third Star? Or something like that. Honestly, I don’t pay too much attention to what he reads. If we have it, I give it to him. If I can’t find it, I can’t find it. Sometimes someone else finds it. Other times we eventually have to order it.”

“Thank you,” Halle said as she went back to her room. She immediately flicked on her computer and placed an order for delivery the next day for the book. She read the summary—Halle was shocked to learn it was a novel written some years ago about angels and demons and the human that they fell in love with. It wasn’t something she wasn’t interested in reading. But clearly Dylan was.

Thomas came for Dylan late that night. Halle was just climbing into bed when she heard the march of three pairs of boots coming down their hallway. Halle rose quietly and went to her door on the off chance Thomas was coming to talk to her. But no knock came. She cracked open her door to listen, telling herself that she needed to hear how Dylan was feeling and what the mission entailed to better prepare to take care of him.

Thomas’s booming knock echoed in the hall. “Open up,” he ordered. The door opened slowly. Dylan stood shirtless in the doorway, his pale hair tousled with sleep. He was barefoot and bleary eyed. “Yes, Thomas?”

“Put your clothes on, we’re expected to be at the rendezvous point with Bravo Team in,” Thomas checked his watch, “ten minutes.” Dylan’s face sobered instantly. “Am I to know what we are going to be doing or am I just to be dropped in ignorant and blind and expected to survive?” It was the first time Halle heard Dylan use anything but a soft, gentle tone.

“The mission is need to know and you don’t need to know,” Julian sneered. Besides Dylan, Julian was the scariest teammate on Alpha Team. It wasn’t his size so much as his energy, though Julian was taller and broader than Thomas. Halle was glad she was on Julian’s team rather than his enemy because she was pretty sure Julian could squish her like a grape.

Thomas glared at Julian. “The Authority has deemed it unnecessary for you to be briefed at this time.”

“Then allow me to be your blunt instrument to wield as you will, Thomas,” Dylan said coolly, giving a mocking bow. “I will be but a moment.”

“Plan to be gone for twenty-four hours, Dylan,” Thomas instructed.

A whole day. What kind of mission takes a whole day? Dylan returned, stepping out into the hall. He rolled his neck as he walked, cracking each joint loudly. “Shall we?” He was even with Julian and Aubrey. He took care not to touch either team member. That was against the rules, or so Halle had learned. Dylan was not allowed to initiate physical contact with any team member unless the member had previously consented, or it was vital to a mission.

Thomas nodded and Aubrey uncuffed Dylan. “Thank you,” Dylan said softly as he rubbed his wrists as though the cuffs were terribly uncomfortable. Perhaps part of their power suppression was painful. Halle needed to research more about it. Dylan’s eyes flicked to Halle’s door, briefly making eye contact. Dylan’s lips twitched but he said nothing. He strode forward, following after Thomas closely. Aubrey and Julian followed after Dylan, forming a blockade from behind should Dylan attempt to escape.

Thomas and the team members he took with him on the mission did not return that day. Alpha Team quarters were very quiet. Halle knew there wasn’t much to do other than wait. The team members that were left behind seemed unbothered by the tardiness of the team.

“Sometimes they’re late, Halle,” Clay said over dinner.

“You get used to it,” Andrea said as she piled more food on her plate.

Halle could barely eat, she was too uneasy. She could be expected to heal Dylan at any moment. And though she knew Dylan was the only member of the team she was expected to heal, Halle knew she would help whoever needed help.

Loud, aggressive banging woke Halle in the middle of the night the following night. The team still hadn’t returned, but the rest of the team was just as unbothered as they were the day before. Halle’s heart was in her throat as she stumbled out of bed and to the door.

“Halle,” Thomas’s low, gruff voice called through the door. “Halle, wake up!”

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” Halle said as she pulled open the door. What she saw before her had her freezing.

Aubrey and Maximus held Dylan between the two of them. Dylan hung limply between his two teammates. His head lolled back on his neck, revealing his heavily bruised face. His eyes were closed, though Halle wasn’t sure if Dylan would have been able to open his left eye as it was crusted over with blood. Blood dripped onto the floor from his limp fingers. Halle couldn’t see the full extent of Dylan’s injuries, but what she could see were terrible. Both Aubrey and Maximus were bruised, but they would heal.

“What…What happened?”

“Get them to the med bay,” Thomas ordered. “Hurry.”

Aubrey and Maximus hurried down the hall and to Dylan’s suite. Thomas kicked open the door and they hurried through. Halle rushed to keep up. “What happened?”

“We were ambushed. There were too many. Bravo Team’s been decimated. Dylan managed to draw most of the enemy combatants to him. But then he was overtaken.”

Halle listened as she directed the others to lay Dylan on the exam table. Dylan’s limbs flopped as he was moved to the table.

“Carefully,” Halle said softly as she watched the teammates lay Dylan on the table.

Halle began opening drawers and cabinets, pulling out the implements she thought she would need. “I’m listening. Go on. I need to know everything, Thomas.”

Halle listened as she worked, quickly cutting away Dylan’s tattered clothes leaving Dylan completely naked. Halle was sure that Dylan was used to it, and besides, Halle needed to see all of Dylan to determine what wound needed treatment. Dylan was bleeding on his chest and his hands, his pale skin a mosaic of bruises and varying shades of black, blue, and deep purple. Halle was pretty sure one of Dylan’s knees had been dislocated. Dylan’s breaths were shallow and wheezing, but he was breathing regularly enough that Halle felt that could wait. She needed to conduct her assessment.

Thomas’s words trickled in. Dylan had been captured. And tortured by the look of it. “We found him nailed to a wall and left to hang,” Maximus added to Thomas’s narrative.

Halle’s head jerked up. “How long was he hanging for?” She looked around for a stethoscope. She needed to hear.

“Does it matter?”

Halle turned and glared at Aubrey. “Do you have any medical training? Do any of you have any medical training?”

Aubrey’s cheeks reddened. “If you’re saying—“

“What I am saying is I do have training. You don’t. That’s why I’m doing what I’m doing and you’re doing what you’re doing. And you don’t know what is relevant to my job. Just as I don’t know what’s relevant to your job. So when I say I need to know everything. I need to know everything.”

She put her ear pieces in and put the cold stethoscope to the right side of Dylan’s chest. Nothing. There was absolutely no sound. Fuck. She looked at Dylan’s unconscious face, mouth going dry when she realized Dylan’s slightly parted lips were starting to turn blue.

Halle shoved past Thomas. “Maximus, grab the scalpel set from over there. Aubrey, get gauze. Thomas, I need you to hold this very steady while I work. We’re running out of time.”

None of the team moved. “Go. Now!” Halle said exasperatedly as she prepared the chest tube. “Or I won’t be the reason why the unit loses their living weapon. You all will.”

The teammates moved quickly at Halle’s words. “I’m really sorry about this, Dylan,” Halle murmured as she braced to cut. “Normally, we do this under sedation. But I don’t have time and I don’t know how you’ll react.”

And before Halle could lose her nerve, she cut into Dylan’s chest. “What are you doing?” Thomas asked as he watched Halle work. He held out the tube Halle had requested.

“I’m assuming you found him in the midst of being crucified, yes?”

Thomas nodded. “It was sort of a rudimentary one. The combatants had him for several hours before we were able to infiltrate their compound.”

Halle carefully inserted the tube, breathing a sigh of relief as she watched Dylan’s breaths quickly deepen. Dylan never woke, but Halle was relieved. At least she had taken care of the most pressing wound. “Well, he was tortured before you got to him, that much is clear.”

Thomas nodded again. “We figured they wouldn’t want to kill Dylan. They knew enough about Dylan to carry their own pair of cuffs. Whether they were trying to get information or just enjoying hurting a weapon, we don’t know.”

Halle went back to taking inventory of Dylan’s injuries. She really needed to put an IV in and start fluids, but she wanted to be sure she didn’t miss anything else more pressing. “Aubrey,” Halle said without looking up as she placed the IV, “for your information, crucifixion is a very, very painful way to die. And it takes a very long time usually. Victims typically experience dehydration, blood loss, and most suffocate to death because their lungs collapse. Dylan only had one working lung.”

“That was quick acting, Halle,” Thomas said with a smile. “Good work!” He clapped Halle on the shoulder. “You can give me a full report of all of his injuries and how long it will be before he can get back to field work. I need to get these two to the main med bay and check on the others.”

Halle let them leave in silence. She was horrified at what she saw. And even more horrified at how nonchalant her fellow teammates were about Dylan’s injuries. “I’m really sorry this happened to you,” Halle said as she began to dress Dylan’s wounds.

“This is going to hurt, but hopefully you’ll stay asleep. I’ve given you a nice pain killer in your IV. And a sedative.” Halle lined herself up to pop Dylan’s knee back into the socket.

Dylan woke with a scream as Halle set his knee. Halle jumped back as Dylan thrashed beneath her. How was Dylan awake? “NOOOOOOOO! PLEASE! NO MORE!” Dylan screamed as he moved.

Dylan stopped moving as he blinked up at the ceiling, as though he suddenly realized where he was. “Oh,” they croaked as he went still on the table.

“I am so sorry,” Halle said, trying to breathe through her own panic, “I thought I gave you enough sedation and pain killers.”

Dylan shook his head as he heaved another breath. “You probably did. I….I have a high tolerance.” He winced as he tried to sit up again. “I—“

“Need to stay down, Dylan. You’re really, really hurt.” Halle took a step towards Dylan. Dylan was proving to be a very difficult patient.

“I’ve had worse,” Dylan groaned as he managed to roll on his left side. “Oh,” he muttered as he rolled back onto his back. “Maybe I need a minute.”

“Why did you draw all the combatants to yourself?”

Dylan’s answer made Halle’s heart twinge. “Because I knew they wouldn’t kill me. I knew they would hurt me, but they wouldn’t kill me. They would most certainly kill the others. But not me.”

“Because you’re a living weapon?”

Dylan shook his head as he let out a bone weary sigh. “Because they wanted to exact their revenge on me. Well, my kind. I was a good stand in for whatever weapon hurt them before.”

“I’m really sorry that happened, Dylan.” Halle meant it.

“It’s ok. Not your fault.” Dylan stared up at the ceiling with his icy blue eyes. “How long am I out of commission for?” His voice was flat. Halle couldn’t say if that was because Dylan was hoping it would be a short time or a long time.

“Probably a month, maybe more.”

Dylan nodded as he closed his eyes, sighing heavily. Halle could have sworn she saw a tear track into Dylan’s hairline. “Thomas and the Authority won’t be happy to hear.” Dylan slowly sat up. He rose on shaking legs. Halle held out an arm to steady Dylan.

“Well unless they can get me some accelerator, then they’re going to have to deal. You shouldn’t be up.”

Dylan groaned, but took a step forward. “I don’t want to be in here any longer than I have to be. I’d rather be in bed.”

Slowly, very, very slowly, Halle helped Dylan hobble to bed. By the time they made it, sweat poured off Dylan and he was paler than he had been before. Dylan sagged back into the pillows with a quiet moan.

“I’ll be right back.” Halle hurried back to her room and grabbed the book Dylan had requested. She wasn’t going to read it. Maybe it would give Dylan something interesting to do while he was recovering.

“Here,” she said as she put the book in Dylan’s hands.

Dylan stared down at the book in his hands. “How did you find this?” He looked up at Halle, his icy eyes guarded.

“I heard you were looking for it and this came in the mail for me—delivery service made a mistake,” Halle lied smoothly. “But I heard you were looking for it, so I thought you might want it.”

Dylan ducked his head. “Thank you very much, Halle, for everything.”

“You’re welcome, Dylan. Rest well, please. You really need to take it easy.”

“I will,” Dylan said, still not raising his head, his deep voice thicker than before.

He had to be exhausted. Halle quickly excused herself, “I’ll be in to check on you in a few hours.”

“Thank you, Halle. For everything.”

Tags: @beomsstudio @mousepaw @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @eyehartart @corbytheking

@seysposts @cosmic-butterflys @wormjerky @godnessofmagic

@daddyslittlestgirlll

@thatlittlefirestarter @defire @jthecalmone @shook-skull @sagencrafts

@theforeverdyingperson @bilightningwhumper @cryptid-potato @fox-fox234 @deepfriedpan

@4-err0r-4 @half-duck @bigmiki @amberconnverse636 @penguin4473-blog

@abbyreader23 @lateuplight @firelan @octafi @paingoes

@xo7-parad0x @whumpandcomfort @kazekunai @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe @soul-of-a-local-bard

@dragonkales @kitarajy-kari @carosbee @celestialsoyeon @knightinbatteredarmor

@kay-kayxb177 @alwaysjaywalking @decayanddie @demetercabingreen-thumb @never-enough-novels

@whump-a-bear-workshop @sizzlingtigerwerewolf @urmum-11 @velcrostrip @rattypop

@lexiebiss-blog @whumplump @geozone430

19 notes · View notes

gumi-writes · 1 year

Text

So. I was in the mood to get my thoughts out on this part of Ais’ profile:

on ais | limits unmet, unmatched

It’s obvious that Ais enjoys a good fight, but the inclusion of how he dislikes ones that are easy is an interesting, incredibly illustrative one. Seeking out violence is one thing, and such reasoning behind it can vary widely, but wanting your opponent to be a match for you is another, far more specific matter.

You’re not searching for someone to dominate, for starters—and in fact the idea bores you to the point where surely the energy spent on such lacklustre opposition would annoy you more than anything else. A waste, and an irksome one at that—there’s no sport in something that doesn’t make him work hard.

And he undeniably likes to work for it. Ais is quick to curiosity (though less in the wide-eyed sense and much more in the kind of scrutiny to intensify an already intense gaze) but even quicker to losing interest. If the novelty of the unknown is lost, then there has to be something else worth the sustained attention, otherwise Ais will move on to the next thing without looking back.

As a result, anything that can capture his attention is likely making it hard for him in some way. It would be beneath him, otherwise—what’s the point in all that tempered strength and honed acuity if it has nowhere to go?

But he does get restless, is the thing. An aspect of disliking isolation is surely the boredom that comes with it, and sometimes you have to make do. So you fight. And you fuck. And if you’re lucky, the person on the other end will make it worth your while. The years of experience you have in reading people might be of actual use, just like the stamina and endurance you’ve built up, and what an exciting thought that is.

Enough to make you search—rather actively—for it. And you can’t search for such a thing without seeking someone to meet your standards. Singular, because I do believe Ais would stop looking once he’s found the right person—while he’s definitely a whore (lol) when it comes to sleeping around, I don’t think he has quite the same mindset when it comes to bloodshed and the act of gratifying himself through it.

For that matter, I have a theory that Ocudeus occupying some part of Ais is a direct consequence of Ais’ hunt for an absolute equal. He definitely fucked around and found out, but it wasn’t what he was looking for, and because Ais is a glutton for particular punishment with absolutely no shame to spare, he hasn’t let it stop him. With reckless, heedless abandon, he hasn’t let it stop him.

Idle hands seemed a fate far worse, and never mind that the alternative made him look like a masochist. Not in the most basic of sense of the word, but how else would you describe his drive to find someone to get entangled with in the most satisfyingly violent way possible? It’s not about the pain, and he is annoyingly not pathetic about it, but Ais is a masochist in how thoroughly he wants his limits tested. He can take it. Have you seen him? He can take it, and—fucked up as he is—he wants to.

Especially since—and this is an additional theory here—Ais either has accelerated healing, hasn’t met anyone that can mark him to any significant extent, or both. This pairs quite well—or poorly—with how his lack of self-preservation bespeaks a morbid fascination with his own mortality, the most curiosity inducing thing of all.

Not that he’s in a hurry to get himself killed, and there is pride preventing him from being an outright deathseeker, but if the right person were to come along…

…then dying at the hands of someone worthy would have been well worth it.

#f: touchstarved #gumi writes #i hate ais. i'm writing this as an aisphobe #if you're wondering why i'm writing this it's because i need to get a phd in ais before i hate him effectively #but ALSO if there are any ffxivers out there ais reminds me of zenos a bit a lol #he's far less theatrical but they have the same drive when it comes to search for an equal

115 notes · View notes

carlos-in-glasses · 10 months

Text

Thank you so much for the tag lovely and brilliant @goodways @louis-ii-reyes-strand @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @orchidscript @whatsintheboxmh 🧡

'Chapter 6: One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor' of Where All This Love Comes From will be up on Sunday, and I'm excited! Here, our heroes are about to have another important chat:

Behind the counter, Mandy fiddles with a switch that dims the lights, softening the place now the evening has shifted into true-black night. TK turns to his right, sees their reflections in the dark window appear near-sepia. It’s like he’s watching old, rickety footage of them having this present conversation in the past. Late visits to retro diners will make time feel peculiar. Elastic, electric, glitchy. The big window could be an old TV screen about to blink on and fill with static fuzz.

"He made me eat an entire loaf of bread before mom got home,” Carlos says. “Then I had three Pop-Tarts. Kind of worked wonders."

TK peels away from the window, facing his husband in all his vividness of burgundy sweater, gold-brown skin, black hair, deep brown eyes slightly honeyed in the softer light. "So, your mom never knew?"

"Never. Not to this day." Carlos swings his head and bows it in shame. He faces the pure creamy surface of the table, tapping his finger nervously over the laminate. "And maybe that's why I never told you, either.” He flicks his eyes up for a second. “Because it was just between me and Dad. Our secret."

"I know what you mean."

"It mattered to me. I felt exhilarated in a weird way, even though it was bad."

“Carlos. Look at me.”

Carlos doesn’t. He appears fascinated by the plain, dull table.

“Your dad saw some pretty worrying texts from both Michelle and Iris, and he just…ignored them? He gave you your phone back, like there was nothing going on?”

“Yep,” Carlos says hurriedly. "Probably thought it was some dumb teen drama. Anyway, I didn't get drunk again until I was twenty-one. I don’t know if you ever noticed, but I never drank tequila straight–"

“Oh. Yeah. You’d always have it in a cocktail, if you have it–”

“–until you and I broke up,” Carlos says definitively.

The words ‘you and I broke up’ go through TK like he’s a hollow frame of a man. “Jesus.”

“I got shit-faced.”

These words catch TK in a different way. It’s morbid, but he laughs. His husband doesn’t usually sound so uncouth in public. “Want to talk about that?”

“Don’t know.”

“Come on.”

Tags below! & open!

Tagging with love: @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @eclectic-sassycoweyes @lightningboltreader @thisbuildinghasfeelings @reyesstrand @welcometololaland @bonheur-cafe @paperstorm @strandnreyes @liminalmemories21 @ladytessa74 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @heartstringsduet @fitzherbertssmolder @noxsoulmate @chaotictarlos @chicgeekgirl89 @taralaurel @carlos-tk @wandering-night19 @inkweedandlizards @jesuisici33 @three-drink-amy @redshirt2 @mikibwrites @herefortarlos @sugdenlovesdingle @freneticfloetry @theghostofashton @sanjuwrites @never-blooms @rmd-writes - if you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

#wip wednesday #Where All This Love Comes From #cig tagged #cig fic #my fic #tarlos fanfiction #tarlos fanfic #flashback fic

43 notes · View notes

my-insanity-is-an-artform · 2 years

Note

A cut from a fic I’ll never finish:

“Throwback to the time I wished to be dead rather than go through exams!” Reader says, throwing themselves to on the ground with their soup.

“What the fuck are you talking about.” Legend asks.

“Just gotta remind myself that its better to be here than back home.” Reader replies.

“Thats fucked up.” Wild says, straight to the point.

Readers’ head turns. “No its not?” They say, questioningly.

Legend scowls. “It is too.”

“Listen man,” Reader turns back to their food, ignoring the looks of horror from the rest of the chain, “Say what you will, but this is infinitely better than back home.”

Twilight frowns. “You almost died half an hour ago.” He points out.

“And I'm pretty sure my old roommate was planning on killing me and selling my organs to pay off her student loan debt. Also she ate pineapple on pizza which is a whole other level of wrong that I’m not getting involved in.” They place their bowl on the ground. “At least here I won’t lose my only source of money if I sleep in for twenty extra minutes. And I don’t have to pay rent!”

Vaguely horrified looks from the rest of the chain.

“You don’t even have a house here?” From Warriors.

“Yeah!” Reader smiles. “Isn’t it great! Now I don’t have to worry about my landlord breaking into my apartment while I'm sleeping!”

“Your landlord does WHAT.” Twilight stands up, enraged.

“That cannot be legal” Four says, looking horrified.

“It’s allowed on the barest technicality.” Reader explains. “But dont worry! He might have the key to my apartment, but he doesn’t have the key to the six padlocks I added to the door!” All of this said with unnerving cheeriness.

Time places a hand on Twilight’s shoulder, calming him before turning back to Reader.

“He never did anything did he?” He asks. Menacingly.

Reader doesn’t seem to notice the eldests fury.

“Oh he never got the chance. My most recent roommate was a terrifying sight to behold when angry.”

“Was she the one trying to steal your organs?” Wind asks, clearly in morbid fascination.

“No that was my first roomate. Freshman year in college. Weird times.”

The horror had not dissipated.

“What the Fuck.” Hyrule says. “Seriously, what the Fuck.”

“Yeah it sucks pretty bad.” Reader allows. “So you can see why I like it here.”

“We can see it.” Sky says, still looking vaguely terrified. “I just don’t think we want to.”

“Well you asked.” Reader says, shrugging. “Besides, what I have going on now is nothing compared to my early college days. And by early I mean last year.”

“First off, we didn’t ask. Legend did.” This from Wild, drawing an offended ‘Hey!’ from Legend. “Second, what the fuck is wrong with your era.”

“Dont say capitalism.” Reader mutters to themself. “Its true but you shouldn’t say it.”

“What’s capitalism?” From Wild.

Oh Boy.

oh my god I love this so much. Just the absolute disbelief that Reader would prefer death over their own world.

Reader is such a whole mood. The good ol' days of crushing capitalism and living off of noodles. Nothing to see here, don’t worry.

Just imagine them telling the chain this and is promptly stuffed with food and muttered promises of various ideas

Please I need more. Im begging you.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #I love this whole heartedly #this brought back memories of thinking about selling a kidney #and I don’t even live in the educational dystopia that is USA

310 notes · View notes

libraryofgage · 1 year

Text

pspspsps come get y’all Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins sneak peak 👀

He’s not in the past yet, but he does meet someone familiar at the library ;)

With a morbid fascination, Steve reaches out to the bookshelf, his fingers brushing against spines as he tries to figure out where to start.

“Well, you’re a new face.”

Steve jumps and whirls around, apologies on the tip of his tongue despite having nothing to really apologize for. He comes face-to-face with an older woman, definitely no more than 60, grinning at him with obvious amusement. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Uh, Steve.”

“Well, Uh Steve, what’s got you staring at the Hawkins Wall of Fuckery?” the woman asks.

Steve blinks, glancing over the woman once more. She’s wearing a jean jacket, a plain t-shirt with cuffed jeans, and converse. Her hair has streaks of gray cutting through its frizz, and her entire vibe seems to be “Fuck with me, come on, I dare you, see what happens.”

Steve already likes her, despite feeling a little intimidated.

“I, uh, just moved here. I guess I wanted to know a little more about the town’s history,” he says, just barely managing to keep it from sounding like a question.

The woman hums quietly and moves around Steve, looking over the books on the shelf before pulling one off. “Don’t believe everything these books say. Especially the ones about Munson. Most of the bastards who wrote them didn’t bother looking beneath the surface,” she says, placing a thin book in his hand. “This one’s not bad, though.”

Steve looks down at the cover that reads Eddie Munson According to Others: A Collection of Personal Accounts Recorded and Transcribed by Nancy Wheeler.

“Thanks, I think,” Steve says, looking back up at the woman.

She waves him off, her face scrunched up in disgust. “Ugh, don’t thank me. I can’t stand young people being grateful,” she says, her tone amused despite her words.

A smile tugs at Steve’s lips. “Fine. I didn’t even want your help anyway. Is that better?”

“Much.” The woman ruffles his hair, laughing when he ducks away and tries to fix it. “Anyway, let me know if you need anything else, kid.”

Steve slowly lowers his hand and nods. “Yeah, sure thing. Does that mean you work here?”

“Yep, I run this place. If you don’t see me at the desk, just shout for me.”

“What am I supposed to shout? Old crazy lady?”

She barks out another laugh, easily waving off the comment as she starts to walk towards the front desk. “Name’s Robin,” she throws over her shoulder before Steve can point out that laughing isn’t an answer.

#Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #stranger things fic

80 notes · View notes

gerec · 1 year

Note

i’ve had a shitty week so i was just wondering if you could recommend your favorite fluffy cherik fics 😭 i don’t care what they’re about i just need fluff

I'm sorry you've had a rough week Anon and I'm happy to help. I don't really read straight fluff but these are my favorite Cherik fics to read when I want a pick me up and I hope you like them!

One Hundred One Night Stands. by Sophia_Bee

Charles has a rule. Never fuck the same guy twice. When he refuses to see Erik again after a one night stand, Erik goes about trying to get Charles to violate that rule using accents and disguises.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Parenting by keire_ke

Alex disapproves of school car washes, despite the abundance of wet bikinis on pretty girls. Erik doesn’t approve of his son shirking money-making duties.

Humane Society by smilebackwards

Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he's Charles' cat and not his boyfriend.

Protect, Serve, Troll by keire_ke

Erik's fire department has a special relationship with the local university. They visit often. Sometimes, there even is a fire.

Not So Much the Teacup by thehoyden

“Charles is basically the bride whisperer. It’s like he can read their minds.” (wedding planner AU)

645 Riverside Drive by smilebackwards

Azazel clearly has yet to understand the shattering power of Charles' disappointment, so Erik takes one for the team, grabbing the cup and downing the remnants of the cappuccino like a shot while Azazel watches with morbid fascination.

Good manners (will get you far) by ximeria

Charles had been looking forward to the performance at the Met for ages. Little did he know, things would not go according to plan.

Oysters and Champagne by listerinezero

Erik is the extremely talented, extremely scary chef at one of the top restaurants in New York, and Charles, the head waiter, is the only person with the balls to stand up to him. Their fights are the stuff of legend, and their argument over the Valentine's Day menu turns into one for the history books.

'tis a far far better thing doing stuff for other people by whichisgolden

The X-Men: First Class Clueless AU that you didn't know you always wanted. Charles is a spoiled Beverly Hills telepath, Erik is his pretentious ex-step-brother, Emma is his best friend because they both know what it feels like for people to be jealous of them, etc.

Other Life Challenges by professor

“Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Making perfect by aesc

As is the case with most trials in Erik's life, this one starts with Charles gazing beseechingly at him and asking him for a favor. Not that their going-on-three years relationship is a trial, even though it started with Charles giving Erik the full benefit of sad blue eyes and asking him if he wouldn't mind opening his car door since he'd locked his keys inside, but still.

love like toy trucks crashing by midrashic

Charles Xavier may be young, but he knows what it means to love.

soul of my soul by ikeracity

You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.

Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.

#gerec rambles #cherik #fic rec #gerec's fic rec #fluff and crack

97 notes · View notes

artzychic27 · 1 year

Note

Ooh! What are the other students of Dupont like in the Shadyverse? What are their crimes and personalities, and do they also cause trouble in costumes?

Marinette

Poisoned a few customers with her “special” pastries, which sent many to the hospital

No reason other than she found rat poison and wanted to see if it worked on humans

She’s just a tad bit paranoid and always makes people eat her food before her to see if it’s poisoned or not as payback for her crimes

She still likes to sew, but a lot of her designs are based off well known toxins

Alya

Spread rumors that got several people arrested and sent to psych wards

She wants people to hang off of her every word and if she needs to make some of her rumors true to do that, so be it

If there’s an outlandish rumor flying around, Alya probably started it

Incredibly annoyed by her sisters and his not above starting a few rumors about Nora taking supplements and lying about Ella and Etta ruining their mother’s dishes

Nino

Stole and plagiarized music from young musicians and passed them all off as his own while making hundred of euros a week by selling CDs

He’s also known to be quite violent when the right buttons are pushed. Don’t cross him

He hates to do any work for himself and relies on empty promises and gullible morons

He’s got a soft spot for Chris and makes sure to teach him everything he knows

Adrien

Used his connections to have each of his fans stupid enough to put the return address on their fan letters stalked for months

It gets boring as a young model and he needs something to keep him entertained

So, what better way than by seeing how far he can push some poor sap before they eventually break

He even does this to his own parents

Ivan

A bit of physical assault here, some intimidation there

Uses his stature against others to keep people out of his way and give him what he wants

He’s got a soft spot for his sister and will take down anyone who poses as a threat to her

Before you try to get back at him, ask yourselves, “Do I want to die today?”

Myléne

Committed charity fraud and stole over two millions euros to buy herself clothes from companies that everyone knows makes money off of child labor

She’s apathetic towards charity cases and sees them as nothing more than an annoyance

Any time an opportunity to do some good comes up, she looks the other way

Extremely vain and only obsessed with having the best clothes

Rose

May or may not have poisoned a few IV bags in while posing as an intern at a hospital

Rose is a bit like Adrien and Marinette. She likes to conduct “experiments” on others

She doesn’t see the people outside of DuPont as people, just test subjects for her to try her toxin-laced perfumes on

She holds a place in her heart for Juleka, the only one smart enough to known if she’s poisoned her drink or not

Juleka

Stabbed several people at random with makeshift knives

Just to see how quickly they bleed out

Juleka’s always had a fascination with morbid stuff and gets a thrill out of traumatizing people

Luka’s her right hand, posing as the scared good twin looking for help before she strikes

Alix

Sold items in the museum to wealthy buyers for months until the eventually got caught

Alix and Nino share a love for get rich quick schemes and occasionally conspire with each other

She’s never above blaming others for her crimes, including her own brother

If you wordly possession has gone missing, it was likely that Alix stole and sold it

Nathaniel

He used fear and blackmail to make the student body obey him and grovel at the ground he walked on

Back at his last school, he possessed the Butterfly Miraculous and looked through students memories in their sleep to dig up dirt on them

Nathaniel absolutely HATES being seen as second rate and makes sure to let everyone know he’s the one who holds the power

Uses the Butterfly Miraculous for no reason other than to get his way

Kim

Physical assault charges that never stuck becuase everyone was afraid of him

There’s no telling what this guy will do. He’s unpredictable and gets a thrill out of seeing people flinch when he walks by

Makes a show of seeming like a nice guy to people who don’t know him before he does a 180

It’s how he got the Ladybug Miraculous

Max

Hacked into the grade books and ruined everyone’s GPAs just for the hell of it

He enjoys being the best and likes to tear people down in order for that to happen

Is always a step ahead of others. To him, life is only a video game where he knows all the codes

He saw the box sticking out of the old man’s pocket. So, he helped him up and swiped it right while he wasn’t looking

Chloé

Basically what canon Chloé does before season 4 and minus the Akumas

… So, not going into detail, other than she’s not the worst person at DuPint

Sabrina

Framed several teachers she didn’t like so her dad would arrest them

Sabrina got a sick thrill out of using her dad’s positions to gain fear and respect

She’s played the role of the good lieutenant’s daughter actively pointing out horrible crimes, when really, she just wants certain people out of her life

He tricks won’t work anymore, but she can always count on a few suckers

Lila:

Canon Lila but without the… You know

She and Alya are the main rumor mills at school and are actively turning people against one another for the thrill of it

She doesn’t lie to get people to do what she wants out of pity. She just does it to ruin lives

Besides, it’s like a game for her

Marc

Psychologically tortured his classmates and actively threatened just about everyone for the smallest incidents

Marc thrives off of fear from others, even his own family

He’s been Kiran’s main caretaker since he was born, not that he gave his mothers much of a choice and constantly warns him about the dangers of going outside so he can keep his “precious baby brother” all to himself

Now that he’s at DuPont, he can no longer protect Kiran and fills the void with his Senticreatures

Aurore

Kept her family under her thumb for years with all sorts of threats before they finally sent her to DuPont

A bit unhinged, but plays it off as the stressed out “little miss perfect”

No one had any reason to suspect Aurore since she seemed like perfection incarnate, but they never saw what else she did

Aurore can easily get into peoples heads, so watch out for that

Mireille

Was caught cheating in one of Alec’s contests and many others before that by rigging the votes

Extremely confident and selfish, Mireille does whatever it takes to win in life

Similar to Max, she sees life as only a chessboard where everyone is a pawn

Mireille can make even the most confident people question themselves

Cosette

Manipulated her siblings into committing crimes for her and put on the facade of the innocent younger sibling when they try to blame her

One of the school’s master manipulators, they get a thrill out of making others do their dirty work

For years, they made Yvette and Jordyn look like the bad siblings while they were a perfect Angel

Its manipulation won’t work at DuPont, but Cosette has many other tricks

Lacey

Broke into people’s homes with her rock climbing gear and stole any money or jewelry they had lying around

Prone to violence when questioned, Lacey is one of the people you don’t want to mess with

She has a place in her heart for her brothers, and it crushed her to see the hurt in their eyes when she was caught

Dubbed, “Queen of Thieves” by members of her small but active gang of others sent to DuPont for thievery. They look up to her

Jean

Used his looks to get the male students to do as he pleased- Steal, do his homework, take out anyone who poses as a threat to him

Jean is incredibly vain and obsessed with his looks. Becuase when you’re gorgeous, people do whatever you want

His tactics still work at DuPont, and he’s getting away with it all

The only person he’ll ever love is Austin Tomassian, his boyfriend and the leader of the most notorious gang at DuPont

Denise

Beat up just about anyone weaker than them… So pretty much everyone, for no reason other than they could

Denise ruled their other school with an iron fist, constantly hustling students out of their money, starting fist fights, and making no empty threats

They, Kim, Ivan, and any other muscular students are one of the most feared gangs at DuPont

Simon, of course, is safe from any sort of torment unless a certain someone wants to meet Denise’s fist

Simon

Filmed people at out of context moments and posted them on all of his social media accounts to have their lives ruined

Why? Becuase they can.

He’s pretty close with Lila and Alya, but wishes they’d step up their game just a little bit

Lords it over peoples heads that he’s dating one of the most feared students at DuPont

Reshma

Used her family name and bribery to always have her way at school, and made any lower income students do as she pleased

Reshma is a nightmare version of Regina George

She’s in with the gang of rich kids who bribe the other students to entertain them

Still close with Ismael and is not above getting physical with anyone who disrespects him

Ismael

Tried to burn his own house down with his mother still inside

He told everyone she had it coming, but his dad insisted on sending him to DuPont to avoid prison

Ismael has trust issues, and only puts his faith in Reshma, the one who helped him find unscented kerosene

It’s best not to mess with him since he’s got backup from the wealthiest gang at DuPont

Zoé

Used threats and occasional blackmail to make everyone at her last school fear her

Like Nathaniel, Zoé ruled over her school at New York with an iron fist before she was eventually sent to DuPont

Zoé HATES anyone who poses as competition, which is why she made herself the unquestioned leader of the gang of rich kids

Often funds most of Cosette’s crimes. They CANNOT say no to her

As for any of them having the Miraculous, Blood Beetle and Ikati Bleak are working to hunt down the old man they got their Miraculous from, knowing he has more

Thanks to Max’s intellect, they’re able to sneak out of DuPont undetected to cause chaos

While the four of them could easily destroy DuPont and free their associates, special forces will be called in and they’ll all just be shipped to some maximum security prison that’s countries away, so they need to find the Miraculous to give them all powers and even the odds

Plus, Prince Pain refuses to send his babies into battle

#shadybug and claw noir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #mlb ocs #akuma class #science kids #answered ask #ask me stuff #mlb au

42 notes · View notes