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starlessea · 4 years ago

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Here Comes the Sun: XX. More Than A Feeling (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 6480

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence, Injury.

Your head pounded like an alarm clock you couldn't shut off. The explosions hadn't done any favours for your tinnitus, either. The high-pitched ringing noise was constant, and only intensified the more you tried not to focus on it. Even now that everything had settled down, it still seemed like you could hear walls crashing around you, or feel the vibrations as the stone crumbled and settled at your feet.

Except, it wasn't brick walls that were sending shock waves over the ground; it was Daryl's footsteps as he paced. You could feel them through your own boots, and sent him a look to try and coax him to sit down.

"It's a sprained ankle, Daryl. I didn't lose my leg." You said gently, before someone cleared their throat.

You looked down at Hershel, who was in the process of wrapping the bandages, and winced as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Sorry." You muttered, awkwardly.

Everything had gone mostly to plan. The governor and his men had been driven away, and the others had returned from Woodberry with even more survivors. You hadn't gotten the chance to see them yet, but the ruckus drifted up the stairs and you could feel the marching of the stampede as though they had been part of the army themselves.

The prison remained standing, albeit missing a watchtower and seeming a bit dilapidated in a few places - but your home was once again yours. You'd sacrificed so much for it. Lori, T-Dogg, Axel, Oscar, and Merle had all lost their lives just so that you could sit here now, complaining of flesh-wounds and mild injuries like they were the most perilous problems you could face.

Daryl didn't seem to agree, however, and narrowed his eyes at you - or more specifically, at the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd taken a bit of a fall, but it wasn't like you'd cracked it open. Though, that didn't stop the man from treating you like Humpty Dumpty - trying to fix all of your pieces despite them not actually being broken.

"I don' care!" Daryl yelled, and you felt Hershel flinch as he made another pass with the bandages.

The man slung his crossbow onto the mattress, and you felt the bed dip beside you from the weight of it. His face was all scrunched up into a scowl, and you wanted nothing more than to hold it in your hands and bring his cheek to yours.

"What the hell d'ya try an' pull tha' for?" He asked, but this time his voice had lost its fight. "You could've gotten yerself killed." Daryl said quietly, like it almost killed him to say, too.

The older man stayed silent as he continued to do his job, and you felt guilty for having let him get caught up in this.

"But I didn't." You reminded Daryl, before shooting a light-hearted smile his way. "Certain victory, remember?"

Your eyes glanced down to his hand, and at the shoddily drawn rune you'd given him with a sharpie earlier in the day. He didn't say anything back, but his pacing had stopped - and he looked straight at you as you spoke.

"And although the governor got away, don't you think he'll be easier to find with a bullet in his shoulder?"

If you had anything to show for your injuries, at least it was that. You offered a teasing smirk to the man - one that probably made him wonder if you had a concussion.

"I think I know a pretty good tracker, too." You joked, nodding in his direction.

Daryl didn't smile back. You watched as the man took a seat next to you on the mattress, and noticed the way his eyes rested on Hershel as he tended to your injuries better than he could have.

"Ya should've followed the plan." He mumbled, so quietly that you barely caught it.

You let out a sigh, unable to hide your guilt. Daryl had an expression you'd only seen him wear once before, and you didn't like it in the slightest.

"I had a clear shot." You reasoned timidly, like you were trying to convince yourself of your words.

You had done; it was true. Except, you should have taken a moment to consider your actions. You thought that you were in fact the hypocrite - since when the time came, you'd been the one to shoot first, and ask questions later.

"If my aim was a little better we wouldn't even be having this conversation." You told him, and offered a sheepish smile alongside it. "I'm sorry I missed."

Hershel tightened the knot as he finished wrapping your foot. You lifted your leg and outstretched it to examine his work. Tentatively, you wiggled your toes, and thanked the man when you felt no pain in doing so. Daryl sent a nod in his direction too, before turning back.

"I don' give a damn if ya missed." He told you, barely above a whisper.

Hershel ushered himself out of the room as quietly as he could manage, trying not to intrude any longer. As soon as he'd left, Daryl let his head drop onto your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath over the crook of your neck.

"I only care tha' yer alive." He admitted, mumbling against the skin there. "I can't lose you, too."

You leant back against the man. He seemed so downtrodden, but for the first time since the farm, you felt safe. You remembered that first night after you'd cleared the prison, sitting out in that field around the campfire. You'd asked him then if he thought this could be your home. Now, you decided, it was.

"Have more faith in me, Dixon." You told him, and stroked his hair - letting your nails run along his scalp gently. "I think I must be pretty hard to kill."

Despite the head injury, the events of that morning were as clear as day to you - as clear as the cloudless sky had been when you all took your positions. The strategy had been to ambush them when they came, and you had been the one to dissuade Rick from utilising the watchtowers.

"They'll be their first target." You'd said, and luckily he had listened.

You and Daryl had been checking the guns, before deciding to take one last walk around the perimeter. You'd scouted their vehicles en route to the prison, so you knew it was only a matter of time before all hell would break loose. The day was otherwise serene, and you hoped that once all of this was over you'd get the chance to revel in the sunshine and celebrate your certain victory.

You smiled over at the man, remembering what you'd wanted to tell him. The two of you were checking for breaches in the fences, making sure that the governor's men couldn't infiltrate from anywhere you wouldn't expect. You watched as Daryl pulled on the lattice wire to make sure it was secure, and you slipped your hand into his other, free one.

He gave you a subtle glance, but didn't make any sarcastic remarks in return. The two of you walked hand-in-hand alongside the fences, as though you were going on a mundane, morning stroll in the sun. It was silent, and you both seemed to just bask in the peace whilst it still lasted. Though, once you had gone full-circle, and had ended up back where you'd started, you stopped in place.

You fished around in your pocket and pulled out the sharpie you'd scavenged from Glenn earlier in the day. Daryl looked at it suspiciously, but let you do as you pleased - just like always. Carol had noted how much of a soft spot the man had for you, and you couldn't even deny it at this point. The two of you had woken up entangled in each other this morning, and it had taken you the better part of half an hour to coax him to let you get up. You could tell he was scared of what the day would bring. Despite claiming to be a man 'not scared of nothing,' you knew that Daryl Dixon was afraid of one thing above all else - and that was losing you.

"Give me your hand." You instructed, and pulled the cap off the top of the pen with your teeth.

The man eyed the permanent marker, before looking down at your interlocked hands.

"Yer holdin' it." He grumbled, and you rolled his eyes at his dry humour.

"The other one." You clarified, pointing in the direction. "It needs to be on the same side."

You took his hand in yours before he had time to question you further, and pressed the sharpie to it. You drew the simple pattern, watching as the ink bled out slightly over the cracks in his skin.

It was the same rune of Týr that you had tattooed on your hip - the one Daryl claimed 'looked like an arrow.' He stared at it once you'd finished, stretching out his fingers before balling his hand into a fist. Maybe it was a little childish to want to wish him luck in this way, and you thought that Daryl was a man quite capable of victory by himself, but you'd wanted to do it nonetheless.

"Look, we match." You exclaimed with a smile, but the words felt familiar on your tongue.

Daryl must have thought so, too, as you saw some kind of recognition flash behind his eyes. Then, you remembered it. The memory washed over you like a wave coming onto shore. It had been back on the farm, where you lay next to each other on that springy, double bed. He'd had an arrow wound in his side, and your bullet hole matched it nicely. You'd pointed it out to him with a grin, too doped up on medication for your own good. It felt so long ago - back when you'd been more young and naive to the world, and he'd been more angry at it.

"I guess some things never change." You admitted, and you could tell that he understood.

You felt him squeeze your hand, and looked back down at the semi-tattoo you'd drawn haphazardly.

"An' other things do." He replied.

When the first explosion rang out, your mind immediately thought back to that moment. The front left watchtower had been decimated, just as you had predicted, and the tanks began to roll in through the field. Whilst some of the group were hidden away in the prison interior, waiting to ambush those who came in, you stayed outside with Maggie and Glenn - ready to catch any stragglers who made it back out.

Daryl hadn't wanted you to be in the thick of it, and you could tell why. From the looks of it, the governor's army was partially made of toy soldiers. From your position, you could make out young boys and girls barely through their teenage years, and adults who looked like they had never held a weapon before. You would have found it hard to kill them - even if you needed to.

From your hiding place, however, you couldn't see the governor. The group was too dense, and he was probably lurking somewhere in the middle - just like the coward he was. You stared down the scope of your rifle, trying to get a better view. All around you, you could hear the sounds of crumbling stone, and the flicker of flames as they burned the tower to the ground. There had only been a couple of warning rounds shot at the building, but they'd done more damage than you were comfortable with. You just hoped that Daryl and the others were alright inside.

The whole thing seemed to last a couple of minutes at most. As quickly as the group had entered the cellblock, they were forced back out in a shroud of smoke and gunfire. Maggie and Glenn had their guns aimed, but it looked to be a clean retreat. The govenor's makeshift suicide army had all turned back, and were fleeing into the forest - so you didn't shoot at them.

That had been the plan anyway, until you caught sight of a familiar eyepatch and the man who wore it. You jumped up from behind the bushes like someone had set them alight, and ran over to the wall for cover. Maggie and Glenn shouted at you, but you continued until you reached it. It was part of the fence you'd reinforced with steel, and you ducked behind it to peer through the gunhole.

The man was returning back to the tank, mowing down anyone who got in his way. You stared through your rifle scope, finger hovering the trigger. You would have pulled it, but a civilian got in your line of sight at the last second.

"Shit." You whispered, below your breath, and slung the rifle back over your shoulder.

You hopped the fence and started running, making your way to the blazing watchtower that was set alight like a torch. The base was still steady, and it provided good cover whilst allowing you to move in closer. The calm summer's day had been transformed into a warzone in a matter of minutes. Shouts and gunfire rang out around you as you dashed to the burning building. When you reached it, you quickly ducked down and pressed your back to the stone as you set up your rifle.

It hasn't been part of the plan; you knew that. Though, you didn't just want to let the man walk free, either. If you weren't the one to do it, it would be someone else - perhaps Rick, or Michonne, or even Daryl. You wanted to pull your weight, especially if it meant that their shoulders wouldn't have to bear the burden of it.

The tower creaked and groaned above your head, and your eyes quickly glanced upwards to catch sight of the flames that licked the sky - creating an amber haze that resembled sunset. You ignored the sound, and locked onto the governor once again. This time, he was clambering into the vehicle, and you knew that it would be your last chance. Your line of sight was clear, and so you let your finger squeeze the trigger - and felt the jolt of the gun as it hit back against your shoulder.

The bullet connected, and you watched the man stagger backwards. He turned to face your direction, and your gazes caught for a split second - like you could see it all unfold in slow motion. Then, you heard a crash, and time resumed as normal.

Glass shattered above your head and fell onto you like jagged raindrops, and the stone debrid came following like lightning after it. The tower shifted, and you watched it crumble for a brief moment before the adrenaline kicked in. You abandoned your rifle and jumped up, starting to run in the opposite direction. Rubble came pouring down and bounced over the concrete at your feet. You felt small pieces nick your legs, but continued to sprint as you heard Maggie and Glenn call your name in the distance. You couldn't outrun the collapse, but you'd managed to dive behind one of the fences just in time to shield yourself.

You'd squeezed your eyes closed as the tower fell, and huddled your knees to your chest to protect yourself. The stone structure made the most almighty crash as it caved to the ground, and suddenly the courtyard was completely shrouded in dust. It wasn't until the smoke cloud had settled and you recognised figures emerging from the fog that you realised you'd made it.

Your head stung, and you pressed your fingers to your temple only to notice that something had drawn blood there. You must've been struck by some stray piece of rubble, you thought. You were a bit dazed, but you could make out voices clearly as they shouted your name. You recognised one in particular, and your heart sped up in response.

"C'mon, Teach!" Daryl yelled, but you couldn't pin-point where from.

You tried to call back, but your throat was dry and your voice barely made its way out of your lips.

"Can ya hear me?" He shouted again. "Call out to me if ya can hear me!"

Clearing your throat, you tried again.

"Daryl!" You screamed, and this time it resonated. "I'm here!"

You noticed a shift in the fog, and figures got clearer as they made their way through it.

"I'm over here!" You yelled again, your voice breaking over the words.

The man came running over to you as soon as he could tell where you were. You'd been hidden behind the sheet of metal, sat amongst a pile of debrid, but he still found you. You could feel the fresh blood trickling down your forehead, but you wiped it away with the back of your hand and sent him a watery smile of pure relief. Daryl took in the sight, and the way your foot seemed to be turned in an awkward angle beneath you - and his eyes widened.

"What did you do?" He asked, rushing over to your side in an instant.

You looked back at him with an equally dumbfounded expression.

"I shot him." You admitted. "I shot the governor."

After Hershel had left your cell, you and Daryl stayed sitting on the mattress together for a little while. You let him rest his head over your shoulder, which soon turned into lying on your chest as you both slumped back into the pillows. It was a little different from what you were used to, but you held his head and stroked his hair gently. You thought that he needed the comfort, and you were fine with being able to return it for once.

Maggie and Glenn had informed you that they'd seen everything go down - and that you'd actually hit the governor in the shoulder, rather than his chest. It was a bitter disappointment, but they'd reassured you that you'd still done a good job - after they'd given you a scolding, that is. You weren't entirely sure what had possessed you to do it - to abandon the plan. Maybe it was the images of a beaten Glenn and an inconsolable Maggie that you weren't able to rid yourself of, or perhaps it was the nightmares you had of cowering beneath Axel's body. More likely, it was the recent death of Merle, and what it had done to Daryl as a result. Whatever it was, you didn't regret it. The governor had deserved everything that was coming for him, and you'd just happened to be the one to pass the sentence.

Daryl's eyelids seemed heavy, and his breathing had evened out. You knew that if you didn't rouse him now, he'd probably fall asleep within a matter of minutes. It was selfish, but you didn't want that. You wanted to celebrate your victory - no matter how certain it had been.

"I'm sorry, Daryl." You whispered, and gently moved his hair back from his face.

The man inhaled sharply, and you watched his eyes flicker as they adjusted to the light. You let out a soft chuckle, which you were sure he could feel resonate through your chest.

"Can you help me down the stairs?" You asked sweetly, hoping to coax him awake. "I want to meet everyone."

He'd already carried you out of the rubble once today, but you hoped he'd be generous enough to lend you an arm as you hobbled down the metal steps. Daryl sat up and stretched his neck side to side before glancing over at you, his eyes immediately resting over your bandaged forehead to check it was still alright. You offered a smile to reassure him, and eventually the man nodded in return.

"It's gonna get a lot nosier 'round 'ere." He grumbled, but it didn't sound like he really minded.

Daryl had your arm slung over his shoulder as you both attempted the stairs. His other hand was on your waist for support, and he waited patiently as you took each step - going along with your pace. You'd heard the commotion from your cell, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer amount of people that had been brought back from Woodberry.

As your foot hit the final step you were greeted by an unexpected round of applause, interspersed with the occasional cheers. You almost stumbled back in shock, but Daryl caught your arm before you could trip.

"There she is!" Glenn yelled over the crowd. "Our suicidal sniper."

You shot Daryl a side-eye glance, but the man just shrugged in response. Your gaze ran over the unfamiliar faces as they smiled, or looked at you curiously, and you suddenly felt inadequate in comparison. You stood leaning against Daryl in your dusty clothes and bandages, and sheepishly lowered your head as they stared. Eventually, Daryl shooed them all away, warning them to 'get out of your face.'

It made you laugh, and you aimed some teasing remarks in his direction - pestering him if he'd like to become your bodyguard. The chatter buzzed around you like nothing you'd ever heard before. Even in the old world, the atmosphere couldn't compare. You didn't know how long it had been since you'd even laid eyes on so many people at once. You knew that you'd have to clear out some other cell blocks just to make room for them all. This was the start of something; you just knew it.

Someone called your name from amongst the fray, but Daryl didn't stop ushering you over to a nearby seat. You whipped your head around in confusion, but continued to shuffle along until you had the opportunity to sit down. He leant against the table next to you, resembling a diligent guard dog. Daryl was the most loyal man you'd ever met, and everyday he reminded you not to settle for anything less. You wondered how anyone could ever come close to him - past or present. Your ex had been a mere speck of poorly-chosen dust in comparison to Daryl Dixon.

The man seemed to be able to read your thoughts, as he glanced in your direction with perfect timing - causing you to look away. You heard your name through the thick of the crowd again, and this time tried harder to locate the source. Only a few seconds later, someone emerged from the centre of the room, pushing past everyone so that she could get to you.

The woman had neat brown hair to her shoulders, and was wearing a sundress that looked like it had been recently pressed. All of the former Woodberry inhabitants looked clean, but she definitely stood out due to how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a warm coffee colour, and her smile was bright as she looked over at you.

You choked on your words, immediately standing up only to stumble into Daryl's shoulder. He quickly got a hand under your arm to steady you, but had a disapproving expression on his face as he did so.

"Vanessa?" You spluttered out, and she gave you an excited nod in return.

Daryl barely had time to step aside before the woman bounded up to you and flung her arms around your neck. She squeezed you so tightly that you forgot how to breathe, but you hugged her back with the same force - clasping your arms around her back.

You were utterly speechless. The last time you'd seen the woman, the two of you were witnessing the complete horror of your camp being destroyed. You'd looked for her in the days following, but she'd seemed to simply disappear into the night. You hadn't even thought she'd made it out alive. She'd been your colleague before all this, and then your campmate. But, most importantly, she'd been your friend.

You stared at her as she pulled away, and she giggled at your dumbfounded expression. Her smile was as pretty as you remembered, and you suddenly felt pale in comparison to her rosy cheeks and honey complexion. She was as quick-witted as ever, and wasted no time in regaining her composure to tease you like you'd never even spent any time apart.

Daryl watched in silence, not wanting to interrupt, but you could tell that he was starting to put the pieces together.

"You were the one who shot him?" She asked, as though in utter shock.

She had her hands on either of your shoulders, and looked you up and down before settling over your one foot that you kept hovering above ground.

"Yeah." You replied sheepishly, and glanced off to the side.

The woman slapped your arm in disbelief, and Daryl shot her a warning look that made you snort. She looked over at the man, too, and raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth happened to you?" She questioned, meeting your eyes this time.

You stared at the floral pattern of her sundress, secretly wishing you had something equally as pretty, and shrugged.

"Well, I hit my forehead and sprained my ankle-" you started, but the woman cut you off.

"I don't mean that." She remarked, with a disapproving tone.

She sounded the same as she did on those days you'd spend your lunch breaks together, or go and get coffee at the local shop - trading gossip and work secrets. She grinned at you mischievously, and it didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

"Where is the timid girl who sang 'Yellow Submarine' to us from her tent every night?"

The man beside you was the one to laugh this time, and you jabbed him with your elbow in response.

"I really do miss that tent." You mumbled under your breath, and thought you could hear Daryl weakly protest below his.

Vanessa eyed the two of you, and her mouth upturned into a grin you recognised all too well. It was the one she wore when whispering to you about cute baristas, or when sliding her number across the bar.

"And who's this?" She said, in a tone that was equally as familiar.

She turned to face Daryl, and gave him a quick once-over like she was checking for any visible flaws. You couldn't contain your laugh; she always did lack subtlety.

"This is Daryl." You told her, and slipped your hand into his. "My-" you paused, furrowing your eyebrows as you did, "boyfriend?"

It came out like a question, and Daryl snorted uncharacteristically from beside you.

"'M too old for tha' word." He grumbled, but it was still light-hearted.

You took the opportunity to have some fun, and pressed your chest against his arm as you got closer to his ear.

"What do you want me to say, then?" You asked teasingly. "My partner? Sweetheart?"

The man seemed completely taken aback to hear you call him anything besides 'Dixon.'

"My other half? The old ball 'n chain-" you continued, but were abruptly interrupted as he shrugged you off in embarrassment.

"D'you wan' another head injury?" He asked - a little too quickly and a lot too loudly.

Vanessa laughed her usual dainty laugh, and you'd almost forgotten that she was even there. Daryl's cheeks were dusted a light pink, and you knew he would remind you of this later when you were alone.

"You two are good together." The woman spoke, causing you to look over in her direction. "I'm glad you found someone in all of this."

You gave her a shy smile, before looking down at your feet. You'd never been good with compliments, but she always seemed to have an abundance of them to give.

"After everything you've been through," she went on, this time glancing over at Daryl with a look that could only be described as approval. "You really deserve someone who can make you happy."

Happy. That is what this feeling was. You'd almost forgotten what the word meant, but you were suddenly reminded. Daryl had made you feel a lot of things since you'd met him - first a lot of nerves and sometimes even frustration, but eventually it became comfort and security. However, you realised that all along there were moments of happiness. Even back at the farm, the man never did fail to make you laugh - intentionally or unintentionally. Whether it was his dry sense of humour, or the wise-cracks he'd make in those days where he seemed younger, and more willing to fight the world.

You looked over at the man like you'd only just come to the most obvious of realisations. Daryl Dixon made you happy - like nothing else had before.

As the night started to settle down, the atmosphere fizzled away along with it. Everyone had taken to their temporary sleeping arrangements, and you could tell that Daryl was holding back his yawns as he helped you clamber over the people left chatting on the floor. The day felt like it had gone on for a week, and you couldn't wait to just sink into bed and let your bandaged head meet the pillows.

Across the block, you spotted Rick talking to some of the new residents, and urged Daryl to return to the cell ahead of you. The man glanced down at your foot and then back up to your eyes, as though needing to state the obvious. You shook your head, telling him that you'd get Rick to help you up the stairs once you were done. You just wanted to talk to the officer briefly, and didn't want to keep Daryl up any longer than he needed to be.

He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he left you propped up against the wall where you instructed him to. His stubbornness had definitely rubbed off on you, you'd realised, and he could hardly attempt to fight against it.

"Deputy Grimes!" You called, once Daryl was out of ear-shot. "Get over here for a second."

The man looked up from his conversation, and you watched him excuse himself before making his way over. He looked equally as exhausted as the rest of you, and stepped heavily over the stone floor. Still, he gave you a small smile as he approached, and squeezed your shoulder.

"You did good today." He drawled, praising you for the second time tonight.

You rolled your eyes and slapped his chest with the back of your hand.

"Don't let Daryl hear you say that." You warned, with a teasing look. "I could have died, remember?"

You'd said the words in Daryl's Southern accent, impersonating the man the best you could. Rick laughed in response, and you quickly glanced over your shoulder just to double-check that the archer wasn't still looming there.

"Never knew him to be so uptight." The officer replied, and you shrugged.

"He just needs a good night’s sleep." You explained, glancing over at the staircase leading to the second floor. "I think we all do."

Rick especially seemed like he was dead on his feet, but he held it together well. You couldn't imagine the pressure he felt having to keep everyone safe during times like these. You wanted to ease that burden a little, or even just throw some distractions in the mix to make him forget about it.

"Anyway, I heard that Glenn found a camera at Woodberry." You started, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you.

A few hours ago you'd hijacked it, and briefly kidnapped the Grimes children for that photoshoot you'd been threatening. The polaroid had turned out even better than you'd hoped - and you had almost been tempted to keep it for yourself.

You pulled the picture from your pocket, careful not to bend it, and passed it to the man. His eyes squinted as he looked at it, flat atop his palm. Both Carl and Judy were sporting their sheriff's hats, and the older Grimes had his sister perched on his lap.

"Thank you for everything you've done for us, Rick." You told him, and watched as he brought the picture closer to his face. "I'll never forget how you were always there for me."

It was rare that you ever saw the man speechless, but in that moment you were sure you saw a glimpse of the same Rick Grimes you'd first encountered back at the farm - that officer friendly who would give anything for his family.

He shook his head wordlessly, before tucking the picture into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He said quietly, before slinging one of your arms around his neck. "And I don't think you ever will."

You returned to your cell soon after that, bidding the officer goodnight at the door. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before reminding you to change your bandages in the morning. You laughed in response, wondering why all the men around you treated you like glass.

The room was quiet as you ducked under the sheet hanging at the doorway, and you shuffled inside. Daryl had lit the small lamp on the table, and it cast a warm, golden glow over him where he lay. He had his eyes closed, but you noticed he had your headphones on - connected to the walkman that was left at the edge of the mattress.

You could hear the faint din of the music as some sound escaped, and slowly made your way over to the bed - not wanting to startle the man. He was still fully dressed, and had his arms tucked under his head as he lay on his back. You didn't think he was asleep; rather, he seemed to be waiting for you.

You knelt down onto the mattress, feeling it dip beneath your weight as you crawled up beside him. He didn't react, so you pulled one side of the headphones from his ear, and brought your lips close to it.

"Boo." You whispered, and blew hot air there to make him shiver.

This time he cracked an eye open, and pulled you down beside him gently. He continued to be mindful of your head, and plumped a pillow up for you to lay on. He then removed the headphones, and twisted the ends of them so that the speaker parts were facing outwards.

You chuckled at the action, suddenly thinking back on your childhood where you'd share a pair with your friends. Daryl placed them in the space between the two of you, so that you could both listen to the songs together. You heard something by The Beatles play muffled, and closed your eyes to take in the melody.

The two of you talked briefly, and sleepily, for a bit. Daryl grumbled about you using him as a makeshift crutch for the majority of the night, and you just hummed in response. You caught him glancing over at you every now and then, but he made no attempt to pull you closer like he usually would have. You knew it was because of your head; he didn't even have to tell you.

"Hershel said it might leave a small scar." You told him, like it was a secret you felt needed to be disclosed.

You didn't really mind all that much, but you knew Daryl had a tendency to look at you guilt-stricken whenever he saw you injured. You just wanted to warn him - just in case.

"Like Harry Potter or some shit?" The man mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Maybe." You replied.

The chatter downstairs had settled, and all that remained was the tinny sound of the music that quietly played near your ear. You swallowed thickly, staring up at the ceiling to see the uneven cracks that marred it.

"Will you still love me if I have a gawdy scar over my forehead?" You asked teasingly - but a part of you felt nervous to hear the response.

Then, your eyes widened as you realised your choice of words. You sat up, immediately feeling the blood rush to your head as you did so.

"Wait-" you stuttered, noticing the man's expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

He cut you off before you could finish.

"I will."

You blinked, but he pulled you back down to him - this time letting you lay your head gently over his chest.

"Know I ain't said it before, but-" he paused, "I love ya."

His heartbeat pounded quickly against your cheek, as though proving his words.

"I love ya so goddamn much, so don't ever pull that shit on me again."

You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, and hoped he couldn't feel them dampen his shirt.

"I love ya - you crazy woman who shot the governor an' took a bullet for me."

You swallowed thickly, trying to hide the wateriness of your voice as you responded.

"I love you too, Dixon." You admitted, wondering why you hadn't done so before.

You'd loved the man almost as long as you could remember; but it was one thing to love, and another thing to be loved in return.

"I won't let anything on this earth take me away from you." You mumbled against him. "You don't have to worry about that."

Daryl breathed in deeply, and you moved along with the rise and fall of his chest. This is what happiness felt like, you decided. Happiness wasn't as perfect as you had once thought it to be - back in the old world. It wasn't that amazing job, or the hard-earned paycheck, nor was it the men who called you pretty whilst giving you an ugly stare. Happiness for you was now walking around the perimeter of a dingy prison, hand-in-hand, as you stared up at the morning sun preparing for a fight. Happiness was those nights you'd stay awake, listening to the laughs down the hall of Maggie and Glenn as they whispered about their future together, and noticing that Daryl was eavesdropping, too. Most importantly, happiness was the man who you woke up next to, and the sound of his voice as he told you 'good morning.'

You looked down at his hand, resting on his chest, and saw the ink there that had smudged throughout the day. The walkman finished its tune, and there was a brief, few-second silence before it skipped to the next one. A familiar melody rang out, and Daryl placed a careful kiss over your hair.

"I like this song." He whispered against you, and you nodded in return.

"Yeah, me too."

A/N It took 20 chapters, 120k words, but they finally exchanged their ‘I love you’s.’ I think it was obvious that they already loved each other before this, but hearing them say it out loud just-

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ninja-scenarios · 4 years ago

Text

Spa day w/ Illumi ✨🐰

I started writing this a month ago so it still says “15th of Christmas” pls bear with me lol

This is part of a Illumi/Hisoka/reader poly relationship! But there won´t be any Hiso in this, sorry! I have another fic planned tho so pls anticipate it :)))

Now I can´t stop imagining Illumi with a bunny ears headband... uwu

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„What is this?“

- „A jelly peeling.“

„And this?“

- „A brush used for applying skin masks, so you don´t have to use your hands.”

You beamed with anticipation. This year, you had decided that it was time to show the boys how to make a couple-advent-calendar. A collection of 24 enjoyable things you could do together. And here it was. The 15th, “spa day”.

Hisoka was out, so you´d grabbed Illumi and dragged him into your study in what had to be the most comfortable kidnapping in history. He actually behaved very well, and you had the slight suspicion that he already enjoyed this.

“First is a headband.”

After you´d both taken a steaming hot bath together and rose from it super relaxed, you slipped a bunny-ear headband onto your boyfriend. Illumi turned to view himself in the make-up mirror. The feeling of something restricting yet comfortable was new to the assassin. The headband wasn´t meant to hurt him or for training, just to hold his hair out of his face. It felt... good. And the light pink went beautifully with his crème bathrobe.

“Look! You look like a bunny now!”

“Is that good?”

“It means you´re very cute and I like it.”

“Ah.”

“My cute little bun bun~”

While Illumi was admiring himself in the mirror, you had to resist the urge to braid his luscious hair, simply gathering it in a ponytail and then taking a seat in front of him.

Illumi´s mind wandered to the rest of the bathroom. You really had taken the time to tidy and clean everything and even decorate. Everything smelled so good! The light-scented candles held a soothing glow and they smelled sweet, as if Illumi just had to stick out his tongue and receive candy. You had placed them on every available surface, creating a big palette of colours that put his mind at ease. The products sitting neat next to them had big beautiful names and colourful packaging. Together with the tasteful instrumental music they made Illumi feel something he didn´t before. A thrill of anticipation.

“We´re starting off with a cleanser.”

Illumi´s watchful unblinking eyes followed every step of the routine. He sat there a little stiffly in a tailor-fashion, yet it reminded you fondly of a watchful cat. Or bunny, in this case. The outfit was so cute on him! It was a pity he wouldn´t let you take a picture.

You started to apply the soap-like foam onto his face with gentle care. Your nails were cut short just for this occasion and the way you worked the product into his skin was light and even. Your touch made him want to flinch, with how light and gentle it was, yet Illumi willed himself to hold still.

When would it start to sting? Illumi anticipated the pain, yet he trusted you. Whatever would happen, whatever would come, he wouldn´t flinch away. Even if you hurt him, he would be able to take it.

“Is this okay?”

“It is.”

You watched Illumi for signs of discomfort, a little concerned since he still wasn´t able to relax. It looked like he was preparing for the worst, even though you had mobilized everything to arrange a relaxing spa day... Ye the longer you brushed over his face, the heavier his eyelids became.

“Do you like it?”

“...”

His eyes closed and he started to relax. His shoulders became heavy, his hands slipped from his thighs into his lap where they loosely intertwined.

“Lumi?”

“Mh.”

Illumi wondered, when was the last time someone had taken care of him that way?

There was a memory from when he was about 3. He had fallen face first into the mud while running. Branches and dirt and pebbles had hurt his skin, yet by this age he had already learned not to cry. Illumi tried to remember. Had he already been numb to pain then?

One of the pebbles had lightly pierced through his cheek, resulting in an ugly wound that started to bruise. His mother had started yelling, fussing over his face and ushering him inside. She´d been angry and Illumi had felt responsible, mentally preparing himself for punishment. But then she had sat him down in her room, in her high chair in front of her vanity and tended to the wound under his eye with maybe the tenderest care he had ever seen in her.

“Illumi? I said do you want to wash your face yourself or do you want me to do it for you?”

You giggled when Illumi´s dark eyes shot back to your face. He had been zoning out for a while, probably lulled in by the soothing patterns on his face. For a second he just stared at you.

At you or at his mother, who had been wearing her hair down, then. Her beautiful locks of hair were black as night, just as his. His mother´s fussing had made him feel important, cared for.

“You do it.”

There was no force between his words. They came out slowly, eyes trained on your face as you smiled. Wordlessly you took a fluffy white washcloth and dipped it into a bowl with warm water.

“Close your eyes.”

You gently took a hold of his chin, just so much so that it would stay in place, as you began cleaning off the product. Illumi´s skin felt different now. Smoother, but dry.

“Next up is exfoliating!”

With far more fun that you´d imagined, you started rubbing the gel peeling into his skin. You had seen an instruction in a youtube tutorial earlier that day. When your thumbs brushed over his cheekbones in a circular pattern, Illumi let his eyes slip shut. You kept working gently on his face, eradicating non-existent little bumps and imperfections on his perfect glass skin. It was probably owed to his perfect diet and frequent intake of water... sometimes you were so jealous of that wonderful bastard.

Meanwhile Illumi thought about the pattern you used for the massage. Half a circle...

´Illumi. Keep up!´

His father had drawn the same pattern on the mat with his bare foot when he drew it back. Illumi hadn´t known then, that he´d done it to gain force and use it to punch his son square in the jaw.

`If you can´t evade my fist, how will you defend yourself against an enemy who attacks from the front? Illumi, they won´t have mercy like me. That is your first lesson.´

It had been the first time his father had openly punched him. Illumi had trembled in pain, holding his cheek with his tiny hand while trying to swallow his sobs.

`I trusted you, papa. I never thought... I never thought you would hurt me.´

Illumi´s eyes shot back open. His hands were gripping both your wrists, thumbs pressing into your palms and tilting them back.

A little gasp escaped Illumi´s mouth. His ears still rang with the blow of his father´s fist. Only after the noise had subsided did he notice.

In the same second he released you immediately. His heart beat wildly in his chest, spurring him on to fight, even though there was no actual danger. Even though you had never done anything to hurt him.

Your hands, they were so gentle, so soothing. They had brought him nothing but joy. There was no doubt in his mind that you were harmless.

“I should leave.”

He didn´t want to see your face, he couldn´t. After all, he had brought you damage. A flaw in a perfect system. Even though Illumi couldn´t decide if the flaw was his self-control or letting you close in the first place.

You went after him, grabbing onto his sleeve in the doorway.

“Illumi, listen to me.”

He didn´t move a muscle. He should go back home. His father would fix him. That was if he could forget you.

“I know it wasn´t the best idea to sit in front of you and repeatedly touch your face while you´re feeling vulnerable. I know you. I know have those patterns.”

Why did you have to say these words? They cut right into his soul with how true you were. It was unbearable yet Illumi couldn´t bring himself to walk away. Why couldn´t he just leave?

“Illumi...I want to walk through them together with you and for us to create new ones. New patterns, new memories, new routines.”

Why had he let a civilian come into his life? The needle he´d grabbed on instinct in his other hand when he´d grabbed you had almost come in contact with your skin. But you hadn´t even noticed.

“Don´t be a fool. I hurt you. It´s like father said. He let me live my own life, knowing I´d make a mistake and realize that there is only one way.”

Slowly, you walked around until you faced him.

“Illumi. Look at me.”

Reluctantly, the black-haired man raised his gaze. His eyes looked wet with frustration.

“You aren´t flawed. You´ve been put in a system where being perfect is unachievable. But look.”

You outstretched your hands, palms up. Upon further inspection, there were no bruises. No marks. Not even a red tint from where he had grabbed your wrists.

“You never hurt me, Illumi. Your grip was so gentle, somehow you must´ve known it was me. You see? There is no flaw.”

You beamed up at him.

“For me, you´re perfect. I love you, Illumi. I wouldn´t want you any other way.”

There was no flaw... he hadn't actually hurt you. Illumi's initial frustration started dripping down his cheeks.

For a long time, he wouldn´t let go.

With the utmost care he wrapped you in a hug, burrowing his face against your hair.

"Thank you. For letting me stay."

#Illumi #Illumi x reader #Illumi Zoldyck x reader #hxh #Illumi scenario #Illumi headcanon #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #hxh scenarios

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just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi · 4 years ago

Text

Pickett

*bangs spoon on pot* NEW OC NEW OC i can't be tamed

CW: Magical whumpee, branding/scarification, burning, scalding metal, Whumper as caretaker, ... nice? whumper, implied nudity for a second, restraints.

(Pickett can transform into a marten but will never be whumped as an animal.)

The magician smiled as he walked through the market, taking in the sights of the bustling coastside Town. There were stands and carts, open shops and peddlers selling their wares. He could see the docks from the stone streets, could smell the foul salt in the air.

This was the last stop before the wild, before the world opened to those brave - or stupid - enough to explore it. It was a place of last chances, of hastily made decisions and half-thought through plans. Just like all the others, he was there to make his name.

One such salesman waved him over, encouraging him to spend his coins for the compasses and maps that could guide him to riches and fame. He waved him off, continuing on his walk. A girl offered him a handheld loaf of fresh bread, but he waved that off as well. The little creature sitting on his shoulder lifted it’s head to see, slowly following the girl with it’s blue eyes as the Magician kept walking. He smiled and scratched under its chin, more than happy to stop at another stand and buy the little furry thing some fruit as a treat.

The moment the door was closed and bolted behind them, the creature jumped down from its perch around the man’s shoulders to the floor. He turned to busy himself with his organization, putting away his hat and bag with a dim blue light glowing behind him. When Errold turned, he threw the boy that had appeared in a wam brown robe.

Pickett wrapped it around himself quickly, hissing in a breath. His wrists - his wrists ached fiercely. Everything hurt, a dull pain that settled along his spine and across his hips. He had spent too long in his animal form, too long with bones and muscle and sinew out of alignment. He leaned side to side, trying to stretch out as quietly as he could. Something popped and his breathing hitched.

“Pickett? Are you okay?”

“Oh! No, I’m-I’m-I’m okay,” he said quickly, smiling up at Errold. He didn’t want him to know, didn’t want him to catch on. If he did, he might try and fix it and he, he couldn’t handle that right now.

Errold looked down at him, brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

Pickett nodded a little too quickly, and winced. Errold raised a brow.

“I’m, it’s- I’m a little sore,” he finally admitted, pulling the robe closed tighter. He looked up apologetically to see the magician’s concerned face. “But I’m okay! It was just a long time.”

Errold hummed, walking over to the dreaded bookcase. “Not all that long, Pic. Let me see what I can do.”

“No!” Pickett tried to stand, to reach out a hand to stop the man, but his legs couldn’t hold him up and he fell forward. He hit his nose on the way down, and even though it didn’t hurt much, there was still blood on his hand when he drew it away. The Magician tutted and went down to his knees.

“Look at you, making a mess of yourself,” he muttered, examining the boy’s face. For some reason, Pickett shivered under his gaze.

“What, what, what if I, what if I just walked-” the man sighed loudly, interrupting him. Pickett cowered further into himself, avoiding eye contact. He knew he wasn’t supposed to ask, but what danger could they really be in here?

“Pic, you know better than to ask that. Again,” Errold muttered, picking up the boy and depositing him onto the low table. “You know why, you must still remember how dangerous it is out there for people like us. They’d lock me up, take you away from me.” He paused, lifting his chin gently until they finally met eyes.

“You don’t want that, now do you?”

Pickett blinked up at him and took a deep breath before he shook his head. No, no he didn’t want that. Errold laid a hand on his chest and pushed him back flat against the wood. As the man walked around, back to his book and supplies, Pickett’s heart was slowly starting to race. While he was distracted by his own fear, a hand slipped under the boy’s shirt near his stomach.

Errold cried out, jerking his hand back and shaking it to get rid of the spark of pain. Pickett sat up on his elbows, eyes wide. The older man glared at him, hand smoking faintly.

“Wait, wait wait wait, I can explain! I can!” Pickett tried, crawling backwards off the table. Errold didn’t bother to respond, striding forward and pinning him down. The boy squirmed and wiggled, but was no match in his exhausted state. Soon enough there were long strips of linen securing his wrists and ankles to the table legs, two more going over his collar bone and hips.

Gruffly and annoyed, Errold wrenched up his shirt to examine the intricate lines of gold that covered his body. Pickett tried to interrupt, to distract him, but was shushed harshly. With a sigh, the man ran his fingers along one line that had been scratched and inched and the gold picked out of the scar. He gave Pickett a disappointed side-eye.

“Pickett-”

“I’m sorry!” Pickett cried out, eyes glossy but no tears spilling out yet. “I’m sorry! I am! But, but it itched and, and Errold please it felt better when I took the rune out. I can control it this time, I really can. I know I can!”

Errold leaned down and cupped the boy’s face in both hands. Poor thing was shaking, scared of what was going to happen. He hated to see him this way, hated that this was really the best way to apply the runes.

“I know, I know Pic - and I’m sorry, Sweetheart. But you can’t just claw them out. They’re there for a reason, and you need to respect that. I know you don’t want to, but I have to put them back. Shh, don’t cry, Shh I know, I know it hurts. But you need them, Pickett.”

He brushed his hand down the boy’s dark hair, looking into light eyes as the tears spilled over and down his cheeks. Poor thing. Pickett shut his eyes and laid back against the wood, trying hard to stifle his crying. Errold was right, he was always right. But it would be okay, he could do it. He had survived the other hours upon hours it took to bind the rest of his body, he could make it through re-placing a few lines on his side.

And whatever other ones Errold would add.

When the muzzle was placed against his mouth, he didn’t buck or try to fight it. Honestly, it was almost welcome. The process hurt, and others would be disturbed by his cries of pain. Errold pet his hair back one last time with an affectionate look before he lifted the boy’s shirt all the way and went to light the small fire.

The rods of gold were long and thin, small as a delicate sprig from a rosebush. They were expensive and shined even in the leather pouch Errold kept them in. It had to be a good quality gold, one that was pure enough to handle the weight of the magic. As harmless as they were in this form, Pickett still shivered when he heard them clink together.

Errold used a bit of dusty chalk to paint the correct lines across his skin as he waited for the fire to build. This part never hurt, but the sensation of it still made his heart race. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to wait.

The magician could see how hard the boy was trying for him, and he smiled sadly. Poor thing, but it really did try and be good for him. He would of course care for it afterwards, making sure he was as comfortable as possible. Donning thick gloves, Errold picked up a rod of gold and placed it in a specially crafted pipe. He’d had to make all these tools himself, designing them to work for what he needed. This pipe would not only help him melt the gold, but also apply it in even lines.

When it was ready, he returned to the boy bound to the table. He laid a hand on Pickett’s stomach in sympathy, then began his work.

Pickett cried out the first moment the molten liquid touched his skin, back arching and struggling in his restraints. It was beyond painful, beyond words he knew to describe it. It was burning through him, searing away paths and lines to cool in his skin. He sobbed into the muzzle, tears streaming down both sides of his temple. Every line, every dash burrowed farther into his skin. The pain built and built, with no regard to how much he could withstand. It didn’t care. It had no stake in how hard his heart pounding in his chest or how his lungs heaved for air. He just had to get through it, had to survive it.

He curled his hands into fists until he could feel the bite of his nails.

Errold hushed him softly, focused on following his chalk outline. His heart ached lightly, but only lightly. Pickett knew better than to dig the runes out. Any pain from the re-working of that was his own fault. Errold was doing this for his own good, he understood that. Pickett needed these, and Errold needed them.

It was mutually beneficial, he told himself.

Right as he was on the cusp of passing out, Errold pulled the pipe away to show he was finished. The new lines of gold over the boy’s dark skin were practically still glowing red, not yet having cooled down enough to shine their signature color. The magician didn’t dare touch them, just laid a damp cloth over the area.

Pickett whined loudly at the feeling, still heaving for breath. He could barely tell if his eyes were open at this point, just feeling like the world was distant from him. A hand touched his face to remove the muzzle but he couldn’t muster the strength to respond.

“Shh, shh Pic, you’re alright. Here,” Errold started, lifting him bodily from the table. Pickett whimpered, totally unaware that he had been untied. He was gently placed in his hammock, gratefully on his unhurt side, and left there as the magician tidied the rest of the room. The boy got his eyes open a few times, but the world was still blurry. He huffed through his nose and rubbed his face against the fabric, itching at the tear tracks across his face.

“Alright then,” Errold’s voice came and Pickett raised his head up. The man gathered him back out of the hammock and laid him on the bed. With just the back of his hand to the boy’s forehead he could tell he was already getting the fever, so he laid a damp cloth across it. The other wounds were still too tender to apply anything too strong, so he just used a general salve.

Pickett remained mostly quiet through the rest of the bandaging, simply letting it happen. He was a little more aware, however, when the magician wrapped his unharmed hands in bandages as well.

“To keep you from messing with them, Pickett,” Errold chided at the boy’s confused sound. Picket hadn’t done it much, but it would have to be something he would have to keep an eye on now. Perhaps he would pick up some mitts somewhere.

By the time he was done, Pickett’s fever was raging and he had to replace the cloth. He then returned him to the hammock to rest while he turned to his real work.

A request for a spirit guide had just come in, and it was an offer Errold had no desire to resist.

Tagging @yet-another-heathen cause this idea actually came from a convo with them!

#whump #magical whump #branding tw #burning tw #whumper as caretaker #painful transformation tw #pickett #errold #whump fic #magical whumpee #hehehe

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capitainelevi · 4 years ago

Note

5, for the drabble challenge

Thank you for your ask!! ❤️❤️

Drabble challenge: Followers send a number to your ask and you write a drabble using that sentence/prompt in your piece. “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

TW: dark themes, violence.

Dream in red

Criminal Levi. Canon setting. Word count: 2112

She was oblivious to the sights her beauty drew to her, giving Levi the perfect opportunity to marvel at the nymph across from him. He took in every move she made, committing to memory the way she loosened her honey-colored hair, which fell to her shoulders, or the way the girl bit her bottom lip in concentration as she rang up the customers of the small vegetable stand. She looked up briefly, and Levi locked eyes with her big, amber-colored ones as she gave him a shy smile. Her fate was sealed at that moment: she was everything Levi had been looking for. The missing piece from his life. Levi closed his eyes, imagining the blood flowing from the blade on his wrist as he plunges his knife in her heart, the light leaving her eyes as the fear on her face shifted to agony.

The last girl barely saturated Levi`s thirst. He wondered if Erwin ever suspected the activities that filled up Levi`s nights and if he was turning a blind eye to keep his most valuable soldier. Sometimes, he imagined the scandal that would ensure if he ever got caught. Humanity`s strongest soldier and also the most notorious criminal Trost ever had. Levi did follow in his uncle`s footsteps, after all.

Killing in the Underground was natural. He couldn`t even remember how many lives his hand took. Even his uncle gave up on him after the first time he found eight-year-old Levi crouched over the body of a young woman, his hands stained with her blood. Levi tried to keep his urges at bay when Erwin brought him up to the surface, putting all his rage and needs in slicing up titan flesh, but it lacked the intimacy he felt when he was in the same room as his prey. Nothing could replace the moment when his victims realized there was no way out for them.

From that day, Levi kept a watchful eye on his prey, learning every detail of her routine, but still keeping a safe distance from the girl. His small fantasy kept replaying in his mind day after day, of her tied to a chair as he prepared his blades to slice up her soft skin.

Climbing up to her bedroom became a routine in Levi`s days and nights. He knew everything her room had to say about her. He knew which book was her favorite by how worn out it was and how her clothes smelled like. At times, he felt so drawn to her he would linger through the night, watching her sleeping form for hours. His hand would slip to the blade in his pocket, wondering if the devastation on his father`s face as he found the light of his life sliced up in her bed would be better than the uncertainty he put the families through, as Levi disposed of all the bodies behind the Wall.

One afternoon, she came out of her house alongside three tall men, laughing with them, jokingly hitting one of them in their shoulder. Levi felt himself burning up with jealousy, his stomach was in knots, and against his better judgment, he started following the small group to the nearest tavern. Levi sat down at the bar, pretending to busy himself with a newspaper, positioning himself so he could steal glances at his small ginger, caught up in a conversation with her friends. His heart almost jumped out of his chest when Petra approached him so she could order her drink, and it took everything Levi had not to touch her. When she took out her pouch, she realized she was short on money when Levi told the bartender he would be covering for her.

“Wait, are you sure?”

Levi didn`t look at her as he pulled a few coins out of his pocket- “Don`t worry about it, just enjoy your drink.”

She eventually gave Levi a big smile and thanked him for the drink. When Petra started making her way back to her friends, Levi got out of his place and stormed out of the tavern. He couldn`t wait any longer. The image of her dead eyes plagued Levi`s days and nights. He needed to make his way to the cabin and get everything ready for his guest.

When the night finally came, Levi posted himself across from her house, waiting for his oblivious victim to fall into his arms. He pulled the hood on his face when the door opened, and the conversation he overheard was both amusing and sorrowful.

“Petra, love, maybe you should have told Oluo to come to pick you up. Too many young girls have been disappearing lately.”

Petra waved her father off, confident nothing would ever happen to her- “I`ll be fine, daddy, don`t worry. It`s just a short walk.”

Her father wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek- “I would be dead if something happened to you.”

“Nothing of the sort is going to happen to me, dad.”

Oh, my dove, maybe you should have listened to your father`s warning.

Used to living in the shadows, it was easy for Levi to tail her without her even noticing his presence creeping up on her. Petra struggled in his hold as she felt a hand across her mouth, stopping the air from reaching her lungs. She tried to bite or scratch or hit him, anything to get out of his hold, but as everything started going black, she knew there was no chance for her. I was wrong, dad. I`m sorry.

Levi covered her unconscious form and put her on his horse as he sped up towards the small cabin he kept for entertaining his most special guests. He was bursting up with excitement over the prospect of spending his night in the presence of the most perfect woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. Levi was going to take his time with her so that her death would not be in vain. He was going to take every bit of pleasure he could out of their time together.

After he tied Petra to the blood-stained wooden chair, Levi took a moment to admire her beauty. He ran his fingers through the ginger locks before tracing her plump lips with his thumb, thinking how it was a shame such beauty would be wasted in a matter of hours. How her pretty face would fall victim to decay.

The images in his mind shifted to how their life together would look like, how her sleeping sun-soaked form would look like in his bed every morning, on how he would wake her up with a kiss on her cheek. Levi would prepare her a cup of tea and her favorite dish for breakfast, and she would tell him all about the clients she had to deal with daily. Levi was brought back to reality by a groaning coming from the unconscious ginger, and against everything his instincts urged him to do, Levi made up his decision. Petra was going to live. And she would be his.

Levi shook her awake, and Petra groaned as she started to regain consciousness. She felt like her head would explode, and she couldn`t comprehend why a strange man was urging her to wake up. As memories of her night came flooding back, Petra yelled, trying to get away from her kidnapper. Levi waited for her to calm down as he tried to assure her that she was safe. When Petra stopped yelling, he approached her again, as he took her hand in his and caressed it.

“I followed the bastard here, but he ran away when he heard me approaching. Did he hurt you?”

Petra`s mind went blank as she tried to comprehend how lucky she had been. She looked into Levi`s eyes and saw nothing but concern, and the gruff-looking man in front of her became her hero. Petra threw herself in his arms, and while it was the last thing he expected, Levi didn`t think twice before reciprocating her gesture.

“No. Oh, thank the Goddesses you were here!”

Petra thanked Levi over and over again, wrapping her arms so tight around his body he nearly fell out of breath. He took Petra up in his arms and carried her to his horse to return his woman to his father. For the moment. He was sure he was in Heaven. He could see the relief and appreciation in Petra`s eyes as she told him he saved her life over and over again, and her father threw his arms around Levi the first chance he got.

Levi ignored the older man staining his cape with his tears as he threw his arms around Levi once Petra made her way back to the house- “My son, I owe you my life. Please, come back for dinner tomorrow evening. It`s the least I could do for you.”

Levi accepted the invitation and promised Petra`s father he would brief the Military Police the first chance he got. He just happened to be in the area as he saw the petite ginger`s misfortune of being chosen as the next victim of the newest killer plaguing their city. While they didn`t find any evidence in the cabin, the one Levi made sure to clean before waking Petra up, the Military Police still promised they would not treat this lightly, and it took everything Levi had not to laugh at their empty words.

He bought Petra flowers before coming to her house, and he didn`t miss the slight blush painting her cheeks as he put them in her arms. Petra`s father thanked Levi over and over again throughout dinner, telling him he was a blessing in their lives, and if Levi had any decency in him, he would have left right then. But no. Levi stayed and talked to Petra for hours and didn’t hesitate to accept the dinner invitation for next week.

Levi brought her flowers every time, and after the fourth dinner at her place, Petra asked him if he would like to accompany her to a picnic in the woods. They spent most of the afternoons lying on the blanket, with Levi listening to Petra talk about her childhood and how much she missed her mother, who passed away when she was a teenager. Levi shared a bit about his past, letting Petra know he grew up in the Underground, but realizing it must have been hard for him, she switched the conversation to his time in the Survey Corps and how he became Humanity`s Strongest Soldier.

Throughout their conversations, Levi could notice Petra`s sight swift to his lips from time to time, and while she was in the middle of telling him about her favorite dessert, Levi captured her mouth in a hungry kiss. Despite being taken by surprise, Petra reciprocated, being convinced that Levi was the greatest man she could ever be with.

Being Levi`s lover was hard, as she had to say goodbye to him with every expedition that he risked his life in, but Petra was the luckiest woman alive. Her lover was spoiling her with his attention and love. Every moment Levi got away from the military, he spent in her arms. After six months of dating, Levi announced to her he had a surprise for her, and he blindfolded her as he took her to the small apartment they would be moving in together.

Petra loved Levi more than she had ever loved anyone before, but doubt started making its way into her heart as evidence kept piling up over the months spent together. Such as the bloodstains she kept finding on his clothes as she washed them, after being fairly certain titan blood should have evaporated. Or the nights she woke up to an empty bed, as her lover claimed to have taken a walk outside to help with his insomnia. But no. She was being paranoid. Her Levi was the sweetest man she had ever met. But she had to ask. She needed to be sure.

Petra was lost in her thoughts as she played around with the food on her plate. She had just discovered another bloodstain on her lover`s cravat. Levi`s voice pulled her out of her thoughts- “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

She sighed, unsure if she should even word it to Levi, but she knew the answer already. There was no way the kind man she had been dating would hurt people.

“Levi… do you have something to tell me?”

Levi sighed as he listened to Petra voice out her worries, all while pulling his knife out of his pocket.

#I`m tipsy as I`m writing this oups sorry #rivetra #petra ral #rivetra fanfiction #rivetra fanfic #rivetra drabbles #my writing

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paunchsalazar · 4 years ago

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hey!! i loved your hoo playlist! can you explain more or less where which book begins and ends? or just your thought process behind picking the songs?

omg hi!! this is going to be really long I’m so sorry... I vaguely broke them up by book and sorta character/event/theme, it’s not super strict or anything but that was the logic!

I kinda imagine it playing out like a movie or tv series.. and so some of these kinda play over a scene or transition to the credits in my head? some more than others! otherwise it’s like punny titles or just songs that remind of plot points!

Lost Hero

- Goodbye Stranger - for Jason, since he has no idea what’s going on lol

- Teenage Dream - for the three of them, but mostly Piper!

You think I'm pretty without any makeup on You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong

- Parachute - kinda Jason and Piper, I think as she realizes their relationship isn’t quite what it seems? (and just playing with his flying lol!)

- Metal Guru - Leo!

- Pretty Girl - Piper, I was imagining this when she clashes with Drew/learns about the Aphrodite cabin

And I could be a pretty girl Shut up when you want me to And I could be a pretty girl Won't ever make you blue And I could be a pretty girl I'll lose myself in you

- The Sky’s The Limit - when the three of them take off on Festus

- Snowqueen Of Texas - this was for Khione lol

I'm on my knees, your majesty; Snowqueen, save a cold kiss for me I'm on my knees your majesty

- Sweet Talkin’ Woman - this is book-wide but it’s for Piper’s charmspeak!

- Are You Gonna Be My Girl - is sorta general but I was imagining it when Jason and Piper kinda decide to be together/give it another go

- It’s Not Unusual - I think this was sorta the entire book/wider series but I just think it’s cute and fun and a Guardians of the Galaxy type end credits song? And just them accepting their very bizarre situation

Son of Neptune + Mark of Athena

I put these together because there wasn’t really a set bookend in my head!

- Hello Stranger - finally reuniting with Percy! (and I wanted the Percy and Jason songs to mirror each other)

Hello stranger (Ooh) It seems so good to see you back again How long has it been? (Ooh it seems like a mighty long time)

- Diamonds - Hazel

- Don’t Go Breaking My Heart - Frank trusting Hazel with the wood, also Percy + Annabeth, everyone really

Don't go breaking my heart You take the weight off of me Oh, honey when you knock on my door Ooh, I gave you my key

- Beautiful Soul - I literally don’t know why I added this I just wanted an excuse to add a Jesse McCartney song (which feels so tonally correct to me?) but also I think it’s Frank liking Hazel in spite of her big secret and Percy loving Annabeth

- Pocketful of Rainbows - encountering Iris!

I don't worry Whenever skies are gray above Got a pocketful of rainbows Got a heart full of love

- Am I The Same Girl - Annabeth’s POV upon reunion!

Why don´t you stop And look me over Am I the same girl you used to know?

Why don´t you stop And think it over Am I the same girl who knew your soul?

- Bizarre Love Triangle - Frank, Hazel, and Leo

- Treasure - Hazel again + the literal treasure?

Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl you should be smiling (you should be smiling) A girl like you should never look so blue (blue) You're everything I see in my dreams I wouldn't say that to you if it wasn't true

- The Sweet Escape - off on the Argo II

- Okay Okay - to Italy! and I just think Italian disco is so fun

- On An Evening in Roma - walking around Rome, seeing all its history

Though there's grinning and mandolining in sunny Italy The beginning has just begun when the sun goes down So please meet me in the plaza near your casa I am only one and that is one too few On an evening in Roma Don't know what the country's coming to But in Rome do as the Romans do Will you on an evening in Roma

- Stuck on the puzzle - Annabeth + the Mark of Athena

- Coca Cola - I was imagining the pirates+sacrifice to Dionysus/ his appearance

- Edge of Seventeen - I think Annabeth remarks to herself something like am I really going to die at 17? so this is for her and all the kids just on the cusp of being 17

And the days go by, like a strand in the wind In the web that is my own, I begin again Said to my friend, baby (everything stopped) Nothin' else mattered

- Landslide - when everything goes wrong and they start falling to Tartarus

Oh, mirror in the sky What is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin' 'Cause I've built my life around you But time makes you bolder Even children get older And I'm getting older too

House of Hades + Blood of Olympus

these are more thematic I think? but a few moments in particular

- Head Over Heels - falling down...

I made a fire, and watching it burn Thought of your future With one foot in the past, now just how long will it last?

Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away

- You and Me - Percy and Annabeth in Tartarus

If the stars don't shine If the moon won't rise If I never see the setting sun again You won't hear me cry as I testify Please believe me boy you know I would I lie As long as there is you and me

- Don’t Worry Baby - Percy and Annabeth in Tartarus, on the shore of the river

Well it's been building up inside of me For oh I don't know how long I don't know why But I keep thinking Something's bound to go wrong

But she looks in my eyes And makes me realize And she says "don't worry, baby"

- It’s Only A Paper Moon - the mist and Hazel starting to understand it

You smile, the bubble has a rainbow in it Say, it's only a paper moon Sailing over a cardboard sea But it wouldn't be make-believe If you believed in me

- Money, Money, Money - Hazel + Pluto

Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man's world

- Magic - the whole story, but particularly with the presence of Hecate

- Summer Wind - Jason harnessing the winds!

The summer wind came blowin' in from across the sea It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me All summer long we sang a song and then we strolled that golden sand Two sweethearts and the summer wind

- Mala Femmina - the return of Khione

- Would You? - Leo and Calypso

Well, you know she took my hand And we walked away And I can't understand why she would stay Would you like to fall in love with me?

- Love is Like a Fire - Leo and also Frank

- Don’t Wanna Fight - Percy and Annabeth

Take from my hand Put in your hands The fruit of all my grief Lying down ain't easy When everyone is pleasing I can't get no relief Living ain't no fun The constant dedication Keeping the water and power on There ain't nobody left Why can't I catch my breath? I'm gonna work myself to death

- Love Really Hurts With You - Leo after leaving Calypso’s island

- What Makes the Sunset - Percy and Annabeth (and by extension Bob and Damasen)

What makes the sunset? What makes the moonrise? What makes the tide remember to hide and why does it soon rise? What makes a star fall? Where does it fall to? Why does its flight make us stop in the night and wish as we all do?

- Dedicated to the One I Love - everybody, but an ode to Bob and Damasen (their goodbye made me cry!)

While I'm far away from you my baby I know it's hard for you my baby Because it's hard for me my baby And the darkest hour is just before dawn

Each night before you go to bed my baby Whisper a little prayer for me my baby And tell all the stars above This is dedicated to the one I love

- Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want - Percy and Annabeth in Tartarus, I was thinking about this post-curses and them being so done with everything

Good times for a change See, the luck I've had Can make a good man Turn bad

So please, please, please Let me, let me, let me Let me get what I want This time

- Lonely Boy - Nico

- Fantasy - indulging all their visions... the mist, etc.

- Stupid Cupid - Nico and Cupid (of course)

Stupid Cupid you're a real mean guy (stupid Cupid) I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly (stupid Cupid) I'm in love and it's a crying shame (stupid Cupid) And I know that you're the one to blame (stupid Cupid)

Hey hey, set me free Stupid Cupid stop picking on me

- Suzanne - still Nico, looking over at the couple (sorry... all the mopey songs)

- Dream A Little Dream of Me - dreams... also Percy’s wishes of the future

Stars shining bright above you Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you" Birds singing in the sycamore tree Dream a little dream of me

- Our Day Will Come - I think Annabeth says a line almost like this? somewhere at the end of HOH, I think when they’ve just gotten out of Tartarus and are all sitting together, like haven’t they had enough? won’t their day finally come?

Our day will come If we just wait a while No tears for us Think love and wear a smile Our dreams have magic because We'll always stay In love this way

- Call Me - all of them! also Nico and Reyna, just being there for each other

Tell me and I'll be around Now don't forget me 'cause if you let me I will always stay by you You've got to trust me, that's how it must be

- Nobody - Nico... oh buddy

Venus, planet of love Was destroyed by global warming Did its people want too much too? Did its people want too much?

And I don't want your pity I just want somebody near me Guess I'm a coward I just want to feel alright

- I’m a Believer - Jason and Piper

I thought love was only true in fairy tales Meant for someone else but not for me Love was out to get me That's the way it seemed Disappointment haunted all my dreams Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer Not a trace of doubt in my mind

- Summertime - Piper singing and it being the end of summer

- Happy Trails - more singing ( I want to include the songs actually mentioned!)

- The End of the World - the big battle!!

Why does the sun go on shining? Why does the sea rush to shore? Don't they know it's the end of the world? 'Cause you don't love me any more

- Too Late To Turn Back Now - departing with Festus (I think Leo almost says this too!)

- Here Comes The Sun - day comes, the Athena Parthenos is back

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here

- Walking On Sunshine - Will Solace

- Evil Woman - Gaea fight

Evil woman, how you done me wrong But now you're tryin' to wail a different song Ha, ha, funny, how you broke me up You made the wine, now you drink a cup I came runnin' every time you cried Thought I saw love smilin' in your eyes Ha, ha, very nice to know That you ain't got no place left to go

- Seven Wonders - the seven! also traveling the world... making it this far

If I live to see the seven wonders I'll make a path to the rainbow's end I'll never live to match the beauty again The rainbow's edge

- This Will Be (An Everlasting Love) - to me this is just after Annabeth and Percy’s kiss, shots of everyone back to camp, wides of people running around, new cabins under construction, the sun is shining, the camera pulls out

Loving you is some kind of wonderful Because you showed me just how much you care You've given me the thrill of a lifetime And made me believe you've got more thrills to spare, oh!

- Love Makes the World Go Round - like the end credits! last pov with Piper, love makes it all happen

Without love flowers wouldn't grow in the spring And without spring, yeah the birdies just couldnt sing Everybody needs love to watch the twinkling stars above It makes a boy and girl, Say they feel so fine, now

#SORRY I REALLY WASTED A LOT OF TIME ON IT #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #piper mclean #annabeth chase #jason grace #leo valdez #hazel levesque #frank zhang #Anonymous

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anncanta · 3 years ago

Text

English defence

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing

Relationship: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rating: Explixit

Warnings: Rape, Non-Con

The English defense in chess is a kind of opening, distinguished by a variety of strategic ideas and the extreme flexibility of the schemes that are formed in it, as well as ample opportunities for various permutations of moves and transition to other openings.

This opening is used by chess players of the highest level.

Well... Now we have our couple in a very strange situation. Personally, I don`t think that there`s a real rape here, but warning is needed anyway.

Thanks to @khyruma for help with editing. I appreciate your support and guidance as a beta in all circumstances.

@alma37 @hopipollahorror @ravenathantum @flutteringphalanges

Read on AO3

Or read below

Agatha had a disturbing dream. Nothing definite, just some vague flashes and shadows. She remembered the feeling of a long wandering in the dark. When she woke up, she sat up in bed and lingered for a while, breathing heavily. It was strange that she had fallen asleep at all, she thought, getting out from under the covers and going to the table on which was a jug of water. It's strange that she could sleep here at all.

With a quick glance out the window, Agatha saw that the distant peaks of the mountains had already turned gold.

Dracula brought her to the castle last night. Looks like he decided to use her as a reserve for the future – which could last as long as he`d wanted, from a couple of weeks to several days. Agatha didn't ask. All the way to the castle she sat motionless in the carriage, replaying the same memories in her head.

Going out to the yard, she sees a black wolf there. Here the skin of a wolf rears, a cut appears on it, and a human hand protrudes from it. Here Agatha cuts her own hand and teases the vampire with drops of fresh blood. She leaves, confident that she has left the last word for herself.

Dracula appears in prayer, wearing a traveling cloak and holding a long sword at the ready. With a deliberately loud roar, he rushes at Mother Superior. She recoils, turns around, and runs. Then – memory gives to Agatha the picture of the nuns pushing and rushing about the chapel, screams, she feels again the awareness of her stupidity, and fear, flooding her mind.

She didn't run away. She forced herself to stay where she was. She walked through the crowd of frightened women, approaching him. Said: ‘Stop it, Count Dracula. Leave them alone. Please.’ Then she held out her hand. ‘We both know you don't need them. I have offended you – take me.’

He did. He sheathed the sword, accepted the offered hand, and, finally, baring his teeth towards the still heart-rending nuns, silently led Agatha behind him.

Deciding that she would not fall asleep today, Agatha washed and dressed, went to the window. It’s not very pleasant to be someone’s food. She chuckled, tossing back the hair that had fallen on her face. The veil was missing. Over the years, Agatha got used to it, and despite the fact that it was much easier without the dense fabric covering her hair and neck, she felt a little insecure.

‘I love it when the sun appears there, behind the distant ridge,’ came a voice behind her. Oh, of course. She turned around.

‘The game of courtesy is over,’ she stated, looking around at Dracula, who had entered the room. On the way to the castle and then – showing her quarters, – Dracula, contrary to Agatha's expectations, behaved calmly and restrained. She even thought that it was due to fatigue – but most likely, his thoughts were just busy with something else. Now, probably... ‘Hungry?’ She suggested.

‘I just decided to find out how you’ve settled down,’ said Dracula.

‘At half-past five in the morning?’

‘I go to bed late.’

Agatha nodded. She thought that perhaps she was wrong – it was almost kind of him to start a conversation before... She might even feel something like gratitude if she was not so angry.

Turning abruptly, she walked back to the bed and sat down. She looked defiantly at Dracula.

‘You were not satisfied. In the evening,’ she remarked tartly. ‘And you hardly hunted at night. Don't be a gentleman. The table is set – what are you waiting for?’

Dracula looked at her curiously.

‘Do you think I only need this from you?’ he asked at last.

Something in his eyes, in the way he looked at her, in their brooding gleam, led her to a new thought.

‘You are a filthy animal!’ Agatha snorted. ‘I have no doubt that you will use me.’

Dracula raised his eyebrows.

‘Use? I like your line of thought.’

Agatha grimaced dismissively.

‘Nothing unexpected.’

For a minute he looked at her in silence, then walked over.

‘Agatha, did you expect something concrete? Something... specific from me?’

She watched in bewilderment as he stopped by the bed.

‘I don’t understand what you mean.’

‘You understand, very well so. If you thought I was an animal... you should have expected me to behave accordingly.’

‘You have confirmed all my guesses.’

‘Agatha,’ Dracula smiled, ‘I'm glad to hear it, but I have to tell you... You don't know me at all.’

‘What I know is enough,’ Agatha snapped angrily. ‘Your propensity for violence is terrible,’ she added. ‘But threatening and intimidating me will only waste your time. Use my body if you have no one else to do this with,’ she finished with a scornful look.

The silence was long and soft.

Dracula suddenly laughed.

‘I love these games,’ he said, looking down at Agatha. ‘Are you sure that by doing as you say, I will become a rapist? But didn't you yourself... invited me?’

‘Empty speculation,’ Agatha said. ‘You know very well that I don’t really want to. Therefore, you are a rapist.’

‘You don’t want to,’ he said slowly. He ran a finger over his lips and tilted his head. ‘But you won't resist?’ he clarified.

‘No, I won't,’ Agatha said with a shrug. ‘You are stronger than me. What would be the point of this?’

‘But what about the protection of a maiden’s honor?’

‘Such nonsense has not worried me for a long time.’

He smiled again, now anticipatory.

‘Well, will you lie down and endure?’

Agatha forced herself to chuckle contemptuously.

‘Obviously,’ she said.

‘Lie down then,’ he said calmly.

‘Didn't you think – What?’

However, Dracula no longer listened to her. Turning away from the bed, he was undressing. Without budging, Agatha stupidly watched his actions: vest, shirt, trousers, underwear.

‘You've already seen me naked,’ his voice interrupted the long silence.

Soundlessly nodding, Agatha got up and, just as, without a single word, quickly took off everything that was on her. She climbed onto the bed again and lay back. She closed her eyes.

Agatha did not know what she was expecting – in general, probably nothing. She knew theoretically about what happens in the bedroom between a man and a woman from the books she had read. Those were anatomical treatises, usually. They were quite good when you had to imagine volume, color, and size. As she understood, the average duration...

A warm naked male body covered her completely and at once. It clung to Agatha, touching every part of her skin, but without collapsing and falling with all the weight. Agatha opened her eyes. He... hugged her. If she could think of a name for it. Embracing her arms and legs, he pressed tightly, reclining on her. Agatha felt his elbows, knees, and hips, felt the hairs on his chest slightly tingling her nipples; felt him... down there.

‘What are you doing?’ She said in a low voice.

He didn't answer. Bending down, he pressed his lips to her neck and drew a wet trail with his tongue. He slipped into the depression of the subclavian fossa and froze, listening to the racing pulse. Agatha freed her hand and touched his shoulder, the back of his head. She shuddered when his palms gently cupped both her breasts.

‘Tell me when it’s unbearable,’ he smiled, squeezing her tense nipple between his fingers.

Agatha exhaled and inhaled, clutching the tangled strands at the back of his head. She leaned back exhausted on the pillow as his hands roamed her knees and thighs, her waist and abdomen. She screamed as he touched the core of her being.

Lightly stroking the damp doors, cruelly slowly he penetrated her with one finger. Agatha froze, trembling. Through the fog of pleasure, a thought flashed, which has been long flickering on the periphery of her consciousness.

‘You... if you... you’d cripple me,’ Agatha whispered, lowering her eyes. The place where he caressed her definitely had a name... a simple Latin word. Agatha knew it. She could remember it.

‘You were going to be firm and tenacious,’ Dracula said as he came out of her. She breathed quickly and unevenly. ‘I will definitely do it,’ he added, bending down; Agatha opened her mouth, but he pressed a finger to her lips. The same finger that he just used for... ‘Surely. You will love it when I do this, believe me. But not today,’ having said that, Dracula traced the outlines of her lips with a finger and, bringing it to his mouth, licked it. She groaned.

Agatha Van Helsing, warrior, fearless and proud, she thought. Always on top, always confident, and self-controlled. She despises her opponent's intemperance and weakness. And here she is – with him, allowing herself to be fondled in the most shameless way.

‘Agatha, I assure you, this is not the most shameless that I am capable of,’ Dracula laughed, clearly understanding what she was thinking about, and went down below.

Sitting between her outstretched legs, Dracula leaned over and kissed her.

Agatha made an inarticulate sound – something between a sob and a groan.

Smiling, Dracula raised his head and entered her again with one finger.

‘So tight…’ whispered and, bending down, lightly touched her with his tongue. And he didn’t speak again.

***

‘I want to die,’ Agatha moaned, burying her face in the pillow.

‘Better death than dishonor?’ asked Dracula.

Agatha did not move.

‘Anything is better than you,’ she muttered without raising her head.

Two large palms rested on her shoulders, pulling her along.

‘You are hard to please,’ Dracula laughed, pushing the hair from her back and touching her nape with his lips. ‘You are too obstinate. When we arrive in England –’

‘I'm not going anywhere with you!’ Turning around, Agatha tried to free herself from his hands. ‘Finish me here.’

‘What, kill you as a fallen woman?’ He laughed so loudly that Agatha was offended. ‘Agatha, harlots haven’t been stoned for a long time. Are you not attracted by the thought of traveling by sea? New knowledge, impressions... Distant countries. England gives people opportunities that many cannot even imagine. Many, but not you. I know you dreamed about it. Agree,’ he breathed into her neck, ‘I promise to behave myself.’

Pushing him and pulling the covers over herself, Agatha sat up in bed. She looked for a long time at Dracula lying supine – naked and carefree. She sighed.

‘When does this stupid ship of yours leave?’

#dracula 2020 #dracula bbc #bbc dracula #count dracula #agatha van helsing #dragatha #fanfic #fanfiction

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kanonsarchivedblog · 3 years ago

Text

Hair Cut

Writing Example Word Count: 1430 Rating: T Warnings: Brief description of wound care. Characters: Yumichika Ayasegawa

Shortly after joining the Eleventh ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Each step felt like fire shooting through his legs, starting at the soles of his feet, racing up through his calves, only to settle in his thighs, as if that were its bed for the night. Even so, he dragged himself along, cold night air filling his burning lungs with each breath he drew. His side was white hot, as if a coal had been pressed into the skin and left there, sitting and burning away. It was such a good pain. A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips as the sight of his barrack came into view. His room, his bed- where he could tend to his wounds without feeling shame for grimacing. Where he could see the full extent of the damage done. After all, sparring with your captain was either a great idea if you were in another division, or the absolute worst. Lucky for Ayasegawa Yumichika, it was the latter of the two. He had to prove himself, that’s what he’d been told. He’d come along with the other new recruits; Ikkaku had proven himself two days ago. Today? Today it had been his turn. Watching Ikkaku fight had been amazing, wonderful- it brought back memories of their time in the academy, sparring together and meeting one another blow for blow. The feeling of the blade reverberating within his grasp, the way his blood seemed to sing within his veins, heartbeat pounding in his ears. Yes, this was what he was made for. He was made to fight, to survive. Survival was key in the world he grew up in.

A hand covered with dried blood reached up to grasp the edge of the Shōji, carefully sliding it open. Distantly, he could hear laughter; other members of the Eleventh celebrating. He, too, would celebrate- just not now. Now, he needed to change out of the torn and bloodied shihakusho he wore and make sure nothing was actually broken.

Broken bones meant making a trip to the Fourth, and he’d rather avoid moving any further than necessary. Door closed soundly behind himself, Yumichika took a moment to simply stand and breathe. The fight had lasted longer than he’d expected, Zaraki-taichou pushing him further than he’d pushed the others earlier. But by the Soul King, it had been amazing. Perhaps this would solidify a numbered rank? He certainly hoped so. A numbered rank meant more respect, a better chance at advancing, and a better chance at surviving. He knew his own reiatsu was certainly stronger than some of the grunts that had ended up here; not larger than Ikkaku’s, though. Head tilting, he noted that the ache was beginning to spread throughout his entire body. It felt like he got his shit rocked- and not in the fun, rolling around in a bed sort of way. Then again, that is what happened- he got his shit rocked in front of fifty others. But he’d lasted well over two hours before he finally collapsed. And the smile hadn’t left his lips since then. Gaze drifting around his personal quarters, he paused as he took in the old flowery kimono he once wore. It had been beautiful, well taken care of, and his most prized possession aside from his zanpakutou. Now? Now, it paled in comparison to the shihakusho he donned. A sense of pride swelled within as he limped to the mirror in the corner of the room. A cushion sat before the large mirror, and beside that lay an ivory comb, a small bag containing little pieces of makeup he’d managed to get his hands on through the years, and a much larger bag of first aid supplies. Bloodied fingers grabbed the bag as he settled onto the cushion with a long-suffering sigh. “Shit.” Yumichika murmured, wine toned gaze widening in surprise at the utter mess he was presented with. Carefully, the shihakusho was shrugged off, a hiss escaping his lips as the fabric clung to wounds, the dried blood acting as glue. Head tilting this way then that, he studied the bruises that bloomed along his jawline and torso- and the utter mess that his hair had become. The deep navy locks were a tangled mess, matted and, in some places, uneven. Brow pinching, he turned his attention away from his hair to study the scratches and scrapes along his arms. “Double shit. He really did a damn number on me, didn’t he?” He asked the empty bedroom, staring down at the gash on his side. It wasn’t deep, so it wouldn’t require stitches or any sort of healing. Teeth gritting, he steeled himself for the inevitable sting that would come from rinsing it out. At least he’d had the foresight to ask for water to be delivered to his rooms. He wouldn’t be able to get to his bathroom even if he wanted to, not now. Sitting up on his knees, he grabbed hold of the towels he’d set aside just for instances like this. He needed to flush it first. Kenpachi’s blade didn’t look to be the cleanest, and it obviously wasn’t the most well-kept, given how jagged the gash appears to be. Then again, this wasn’t the worst scar he had. No, that one was on his left thigh, and even now when he looks at it for too long, his stomach twists with the memory. Shaking his head, he drew in a breath before beginning to flush the wound out with clean water. “Fuck, shit, damn it, maybe I should’ve gone to the Fourth,” he muttered under his breath, jaw clenching. “But that’s one long fucking walk that I really don’t want to take. Get it together, Yumi.” Next step, cleaning it with a rag and water. Tears pricked at the inner corners of his eyes from the sharp sting that came with agitating a fresh wound. It took a good few minutes before he was satisfied enough to set the rag aside and slouch, a tear sliding down a pale, unblemished cheek. Ouch. “Tomorrow. The Fourth.” Damn his pride. Angrily, he began to wrap his midsection up with gauze and a white cloth bandage, which only caused the wound to hurt even more, which caused more tears to fall from the pain. By the end of it, he looked a proper mess, bandaged up and crying. Even so, as he studied his reflection, he couldn’t find it in himself to be truly mad. Until he began to try to comb out his hair, and then, reality hit. A lump formed in his throat as he stared at the uneven length. When had Kenpachi even grabbed his hair? Or had he even? Yumichika couldn’t remember; all he knew now was that the waist length locks had been butchered. The hair he’d spent so long growing out, that he’d taken such careful care of- Half of it was cut to his collarbone. The other half was still long. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he reached out, taking hold of his zanpakutou’s hilt. He could hear the spirit whispering to him, wondering what he was doing, what he was planning. He didn’t answer. Instead, he settled the blade on his lap and took out a hair tie, reaching behind himself to gather the mangled, navy tresses into a ponytail that settled at the base of his neck. Wine toned gaze trained upon his reflection, wine toned hues were strong, steeled. Ruri’iro Kujaku hissed as he left his scabbard. The moonlight settled upon the floor beside him, causing the metal to glint in the darkness of the bedroom as he raised in behind his head, the edge settling between the ponytail and his neck. He pulled. Navy locks fell to the ground around him, the remainder swinging forward to settle just below his chin in an asymmetrical bob. Head tilting, he studied his reflection. So much lighter… He shook his head, and the tresses followed the movement. It made a little laugh bubble up. Cutting his hair- that had felt oddly freeing. A smile curled his lips as he reached up and touched the ends. It felt smoother, healthier. Lighter. “Beautiful,” he whispered, a hand cupping his own cheek as he studied his reflection. A tear slid down his cheek, the last bit of mourning leaving him with it. This was who he was. Yumichika Ayasegawa of the Eleventh Division. He will become a seated officer. He will earn the respect of his peers. He will survive this. He will survive.

#m's scribbles #non-ask #yumichika ayasegawa #bleach imagines #bleach fanfiction #bleach

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astringofmadhousefloozies · 4 years ago

Text

Catch a Falling Star

The Star Sending Festival goes a little differently when Yuu has a raging crush on one of the performers.

Warnings for coarse language, deceptive actions, and being an excuse for OC x Canon, baby!

Please check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, and let me know if you enjoyed it! I have an open askbox and do like to chat.

~*~*~*~

"You boys look great."

Trey and Deuce flushed a bit, and you laughed and snapped a quick picture. How pretty they looked in starlight silks and airy linens, all embroidered in gold! Pretty as a picture.

"If you like the clothes so much, you can take my spot and play the drum?" Idia, poor thing, he sounded so hopeful from the other side of his screen. And the clothes were nice, nicer than even the robes you had woken up in. They'd look nice on you. But if they'd look nice on you, how much nicer would they look on him?

You tried to keep your voice casual, but you couldn't keep out the teasing tone. "Noooo, they’d suit you better. And I can't keep a beat! You've done perfect on some of the rhythm games you play. It'll be a cakewalk."

He just groaned, and kept at it. As though pity for him could outweigh your own desires.

~*~*~*~

"Selfish little bastard of a man."

"Please stop calling my brother names."

"I'll call him what I like. Deuce has been working very hard. At least he can't resist gamifying anything."

Ortho hovered behind your shoulder. "Is it wrong that I hope Deuce succeeds? I should want Idia to always win."

"I hope not. I like Idia a lot-"

"You do."

"Shh. But that doesn't mean I want him to always have his way. He does need to do things sometimes. If he doesn't occasionally come out of his comfort zone, how's he going to extend said zone? He's got... there's zones he needs to be in before..."

Ortho tilted his head, and you ruffled his hair like the puppy he seemed. "Anyways. I got an idea. Say nothing to you brother about it, I don't want him crying betrayal in my messages."

~*~*~*~

"Easy sleep."

The gem glowed to life, and you set it aside to grab the next unactivated one. With so many students not wanting to make a wish? All you had to say was that you'd take unwanted stones, no questions asked. By sunset there were piles of them by the Ramshackle gate. all to add to Deuce's . And wishing stars didn't seem to care if the same person used multiple, just if you spoke it out loud. Which, with your loudmouth shnook of a roommate, meant you were just cycling through a list of trivial things.

"Ugh, are you done? I'm going to bed." He only made a few more wishes himself, for endless food and as many naps as he'd like, before growing bored.

"I'll be up soon, make yourself comfortable. Um. Fly the heavens. Swim like fishes. A clean conscience..." You kept going through ones in the lyrics from a remembered song, until you were sure Grim was in bed and wouldn't be awake to make fun of you.

"One true lover with a thousand kisses."

The stone clicked on like a sigh, warming under your touch. The light seemed a bit different, though it was likely your imagination. You grabbed the next one. "Idia to perform in his pretty little outfit." Click. "That if I go home, I rememeber everything, everyone here." Click. Click. Click. You kept going until there was only one left.

You whispered a truly selfish one to it, and it lit up so bright you had to blink the spots from your eyes.

~*~*~*~

"Aaaaaaaaa you look so cuuute~" As beautiful as Idia looked? You couldn't stop gushing over Ortho. "You're such a pretty little thing aaaaaaaaah!~" You swung Ortho around in a hug. "You look great! And the ceremony is saved!"

God, he had such a sweet laugh. "I'll be perfect! I have to go! I'll see you after!" Was he trailing sparkles as he went? Probably not. And with him gone, you could go back to your original target.

Idia fidgeted in his spoot and looked away as you looked him up and down. You'd never seen him look so fine. Of course, even in his usual clothes, he was beautiful, but in these, this finery? He looked otherworldly, more a fanciful painting than a person. Maybe everyone else could see even a fraction of what you did.

"You look nice."

"It's awful."

"It's lovely. A splendid get up for a splendid person." He turned red. "A kind, sweet boy who steps up to the plate when it really matters." Redder. "A wonderful person who went out and personally granted all the wishes he could - Mal told me about what you did, and look what you've done for Ortho! And you saved the ceremony!"

He covered his face with his hands. "Stop, stop, I'm too low-leveled to take these complements. I don't deserve them."

"You deserve plenty. May I...?" You held up your phone.

He frowned at you. "Why would you want a picture of me looking like an idiot?"

"You look..." So beautiful you feel lightheaded just from standing this close. "Far from an idiot."

He argued, but you did get your picture.

~*~*~*~

The ceremony was over, but you're just pissy. If it was just your phone on the friz? Yeah, whatever. But everyone's went screwy, so you knew damn well Idia did something so there wouldn't be pictures or video.

And he'd done so well! He was a born drummer, he hadn’t missed a beat. He'd been so alive, and passionate, and he needed to see it for himself. That was the whole reason, not that you’d wanted a recording of him to watch in the wee hours of the morning.

Good thing that even as he fled from the wishing tree, he was easy to pick out, and it was easy to guess the direction he was going. So, instead of chasing directly after him and losing out to his long stride, you just took a different path and waylaid him in a small clearing.

He didn't even realize you were there until you steped into his path ten feet in from of him, landing on his ass.

"So. How'd you screw the phones?"

He blinked up at you, chest heaving. His clothes were damp from the ceremony, and he smelled of sweat, though not unpleasantly. "Made a signal jammer. They'll be fine when I turn it off."

You smiled, and sat down across from him. You'd picked a good spot to find him, the moss was thick underneath you. both. "That's a great trick. Why?"

He rolled his eyes, already knowing what track you were on. "No one wants pictures of me except you."

"If that was true, you wouldn't have made it so no one got any pictures of the ceremony. The one where you were only a small part of." You decided to add a bit of guilt. "Deuce's poor mother, she'll not get any pictures of her boy!"

He flopped back onto the ground and covered his face. "Stop lying."

"I'm not lying."

"You don't actually care about that." Still lying back, he pointed a finger at you. "You're just mad because you didn't get your pictures of me! Why me?"

"Why not you? I was so busy looking at you I barely had time to notice anything else! Why would I want to look at anything else!" You couldn't stop yourself. "I don;t understand why anyone would ever stop looking at you. I've never seen anyone so beautiful in my life. And after I got to know you? I like all of you, even the parts that drive me mad. Especially those." You drew your knees to your chest, painful with the thudding of your heart. "You're wonderful. The only thing about you I truly don't like is how much you dislike yourself."

He'd drawn back during your... good lord, that was a confession, wasn't it? Against a tree, staring at you wide eyed with fear. He was going to run as soon as he caught his breath, you knew it. You'd fucked it up and he probably wouldn't even want to keep being your friend.

"Do you really mean that?"

You nodded, waiting for the shoe to drop. But instead of running, he joined you, a hair's breadth from your side, silent for what felt like eons.

"I'm an SR at most. On my good days."

"Nonsense." You laughed. "You're a treasure. a truly rare specimen. Museum quality."

He managed to laugh back. "Only normies still go to museums."

You nudged his shoulder. "I said don't ever call me that."

"Normie."

"Stop."

"Nor-"

You pushed him lightly, and he still flopped over, laughing. You joined him, head on his chest. (So damned bony! even with his faint muscle, you could feel the curves of rib beneath his skin.)

"Idia?"

"?"

"You're terrified. I can hear your heart going."

"Ah... Excited too. People don’t confess to you every day. Especially not me."

"Oh, they should though. Letters pouring out of your locker every time you open it. Chocolates from secret admirers. The whole list."

"Not everyone's you. No one else is."

"You can just borrow mine. I get tons of them."

He frowned at you. "And you pick me?"

"Yes? Why wouldn't I?"

"There's the whole school to pick from. A whole school who aren't shut in otakus with curses."

"Oh, I got a curse too." He narrowed his eyes at you. "I'm the hottest bitch in a school full of hot bitches. It's truly dreadful. No one meets my exacting standards except you."

"I am cursed. And you have no standards, because..."

You held a finger to his lips, and he went cross-eyed trying to look at it. "No. Don't start. Can I prove I like you?"

He gave a small nod, and you took a deep breath before you began. The first kiss, you placed to his fore head after pushing his bangs away. The next two, to each scrunched eyelid, purplish and finely veined. Four, five, six, to the nose and each cheek. On the last, you hesitated. Was this too much? Was this too quick? He answered you himself, reaching up and dragging you down to crush his lips against yours with a gasp. He only let you up when he gasped for breath, eyes unfocused and his lips bruised and swollen. It was such a glorious sight, you couldn't help but record it.

He didn't even get a chance to shield his eyes, and you'd stowed your phone away as he blinked in shock as he realized what the click was. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because you looked beautiful, and I wanted to remember it."

"Nnnn... please don't show anyone."

"Not even you?"

"No."

"Too bad, I'll show you after. People are probably looking for us."

~*~*~*~

You couldn't complain. You're pretty sure that you weren't supposed to plant grass seed by hand? But there was something soothing about your hands in the dirt, so you were doing it that way.

"I can't believe Shroud's not here, he made this mess."

"Ortho is here." He was in charge of spreading the grass seed after he helped get rid of the burnt grass.

"Ortho doesn’t count."

You threw a clod of dirt at Grimm's head. "Then you might as well say you don't, either."

Idia actually showed up in the flesh before that fight could continue, gushing that he actually got the game sequel he wanted. Good for him! Now you needed to find a playthrough of the original to watch, to properly understand the excitement.

"It's a pity you didn't get a wish yourself, Yuu." Deuce didn’t know that you'd wished up at least three dozen stars yourself, he thought you’d just gotten them from people. He didn’t need to know, either.

You looked up at Idia, catching his eye. He started, and flushed not just his face, but halfway down his hair, before it faded out, a pulse of pink sparks. The smile you made at the sight hurt your cheeks from the strength of it.

"I'd say I got my wish just fine."

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #idia shroud

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albino-whumpee · 4 years ago

Text

Demon Angel AU: A frozen heart

I polished this one a bit for a super late day 1 of @summer-of-whump “freezing”

I will be posting this one on the other blog soon too!

Hope you like it!

Taglist: @orchidscript @giggly-evil-puppy @haro-whumps @as-a-matter-of-whump @whump-tr0pes @grizzlie70 @rosesareviolentlyread

CW// Hypothermia, magic whump, major character death (temporary), demon whumpee, angel caretaker, aftermath of torture, angst, blood and situational whump.

When the harvest season ended, the humans went back to their homes and the world withered as it began to be covered in a carpet of snow, it was announced with a freezing chill up his spine that he was running out of time.

They had been traveling for months now. Nightmares from that night lingered vaguely on the back of Sann’s mind, not strong enough to frighten him about his companion any longer. The demon however, wouldn’t be capable of hiding his secret much longer.

The first chill was small, a warning. A breeze that carried the promise of blowing stronger the longer he walked. He kept silent about it, but his pace grew quicker and quicker as the chilling was enough to make him shake.

In the last nights the pair would settle down to sleep, the angel pulled him close and covered him with his wings. Maybe it was his healing what soothed the shaking into stillness, or simply his warmth, but it wasn’t enough and so, the angel would flop in the ground, exhausted from nonstop walking, only to forcefully lift himself when the demon rushed forward.

At the setting of the second day, a shiver ran down the demon’s back and stopped him dead on his tracks. When he saw it, Sann jumped to scan their surroundings.

“Are we being followed?” The angel asked, the sharpened knife made from his own horns in hand. Wielded tightly over his chest, expecting for a group of humans or hounds to jump out of the thick woods at any moment and attack them.

“I won´t make it on time” the angel heard him say in a broken whisper.

“What?” He turned to face him without a chance of scanning the bushes for threats, noticing instead the haunted look on Albus´ face as the hood slipped off his head when he began to run. “Al?!”

The demon had made them new clothes to wear and was terribly insistent in making boots for the angel, worrying about if it was insulating enough and provided enough coverage of the ground. The angel didn’t need to ask why his friend had such insistence in wearing thicker shoes than he did. He remembered well enough the color they took when he danced for the gods. Besides, if their objective was the underworld, such measures weren’t overly exaggerated. The angel thanked such a gift as he tried to follow him through the harsh terrain that surely must have hurt the bare feet of the demon again, yet didn’t seem to be enough to stop him.

The reason for the rush of his companion being simple eagerness to get to the woods of his Anshe as quickly as possible crossed the angel´s mind. He had said he was excited about seeing her again after so long, to show him the place he grew up on, but it wasn´t until Sann began to trot behind the now sprinting demon that he noticed something was terribly wrong.

“Al, slow down! What ’s wrong?” Sann shouted, trying to follow him through the rocky road slowly being covered in snow. The last bits of twilight illuminated their way to let him catch how the demon’s tail swung wildly, trying to find balance in a floor that turned slippery by the second with the falling snow.

“Al! Stop! Wait!” Sann kept calling without an answer.

The demon didn´t seem to hear him and didn´t stop despite crashing into trees or drifting and falling on his knees before desperately pulling himself back up and kept on running. So Sann opted for another approach.

His wings lifted him off the ground and with a strong push forward, he caught the demon by the shoulders and pinned him with a dry thud into the trunk of a tree, ripping a surprised yelp out of him.

In between pants the angel looked at him, “I said stop” the angel snarled, swallowing to settle his drumming heart while locking red, terrified eyes with his “What´s wrong?”

The demon took shallow breaths, trying to not panic when looking beyond him, at the woods direction and realizing he could smell his home, but it was nonetheless out of his reach.

The demon shook his head “We are not there yet!” Albus revolved, trying to break free before Sann squeezed his shoulders.

“Albus!” The angel shouted, making the demon flinch. Seeing him stiffen underneath him, Sann let go, lifting his hands in surrender “Listen to me, relax. Where do you have to go?”

The demon pressed his back further into the tree, his nose filling with the smell of pine when chewing his lip.

“I didn´t know it was today” the words rolled out his tongue with ease “I- I´ve gotta get there before the sun sets”

“Why? Where?”

The demon whined in exasperation, looking at the darkening clouds above them blocking his view of the sun’s position. He began to pant quicker when another shiver crossed his body. Stronger this time “The c-circle” he said, eyes widening at the force with which his teeth chattered. Freezing cold swept him over as he clenched his jaw and peeled himself off to take long strides.

Sann caught his arm, but Albus shook him off.

“I, I d-don’t have ti-time for this, Sann!” He yelled, showing his fangs a little before hugging himself trying to keep his body warm and walking further into the woods.

“Why not? What´s the hurry?” Sann asked following behind noticing his stumble and tail falling limp behind him “Al!” he yelled, catching his wrist “Please. I can carry us wherever you want, remember?” he squeezed, releasing it after a second, seeing Albus frown unfold, “You can tell me what’s wrong in the way” he said, extending his hand for him to take.

Albus looked at him for a long moment, eyes moving from the woods that extended over the mountains to Sann’s face, before moving back to look up at the sky. As the darkness of the night began to cover them, he stopped walking to take his hand.

“You’re freezing!” Sann jumped, alerted by the coldness in his thin fingers.

Selflessly, the angel quickly took off his own cloak and wrapped the demon on it. He had no way of knowing that wouldn´t help much, but Albus tried to focus on the warmth of it over his back, pushing himself to say it.

“Sann, in a few minutes I won´t be able to talk with you” he admitted, controlling the shivering as much as he could. The angel frowned and opened his mouth, but Albus interrupted him “Please, listen to me. I won´t be able to explain when I turn back, so please…listen” he said in a laboured huff, watching him frown in confusion as he swallowed “I am a human born. I wasn´t born a demon and that means, one night every year, I turn human again” he explained, slurring the words as a violent tremble took over him and his tail slowly began to dissipate in thin air.

Rendered speechless, Sann watched his horns begin to dissipate too.

“But my human body wasn´t alive when I became a demon. So I have to…” he breathed in a shaky breath, “I have to remake the ritual to become a demon every year. U-u-using wood from my Anshe´s trees before midnight”

“And what happens if you don´t?” Sann asked, noticing he got colder faster than he could warm him. Terrified of his silence when he watched his ears round up and his claws disappeared, Albus simply smiled back at him. The marks on his cheeks lifted up like dust as Sann´s heart sank.

“I live in a borrowed body, and every year, I pay for a little more time” Albus explained, falling to his knees when he gave in to the violent shivers rattling his body.

He could hear the soft sizzles of Sann trying to speak, trying to ask him more questions as he always did, but the spell he had casted over them both when they fell to Earth, when he was caught by the soldiers, that allowed them to understand the human language and each other, wore off.

Sann cupped his face and the air sizzled with what he supposed was Sann asking him what to do “I´m sorry… I don´t understand you” he whispered back, finding it hard to keep the cold air in his chest, before Sann realized talking was useless “I´m sorry…”

For a moment there was only silence and the soft breezes that sent chills up his spine, only making his body colder and colder as snow fell over their heads and tangled up in their hair. But a moment later, there was warmth.

Sann covered him with the hood of his cloak and pulled him closer to his chest, wrapping him in his wings and giving him enough warmth to stay conscious for a little more. Then, Sann drew something on the snow. It took his drowsy brain a second to understand it was a compass.

His mind fought the numbness of his fingers to point out a direction, battling the violent trembles so Sann´s grip on him wouldn’t weaken when he flew off. The breeze of flying brought back the memory of when he was a child.

The very first time he had felt those chills and had ran to his Anshe as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. He remembered his limbs growing heavier as he tried to run, strength lifting off him as he got lost in the woods, imploring for her to find him before the cold made him fall over and curl not himself in crying desperation.

That time his Anshe had come flying to aid him when he was too weak to cry anymore. He barely had even felt her lifting him off the ground to carry him back to the circle of trees to carry out the ritual.

He knew over and over again, he would exhale one last breath before gasping back awake, body swarming with his Anshe’s warm embrace as he regained sensation.

Looking back on it, the demon fighting to keep his eyes open with blue lips leaning on the angel’s chest thought that was the only time he saw Anshe cry.

The world soon became a blur that only threw warnings to his brain that he was freezing, too numb to move. Desperately, sending signals that he needed to keep himself awake and moving, but he felt so heavy, and it was so hard to breathe, and he was sure Sann was screaming something at him too, but when he tried to open his eyes, his eyelids were too heavy and only fluttered before he gave up.

He was so sleepy…

When he quickly began to lose the sensation of Sann´s hands on his face, of his arms carrying him somewhere, the world seemed to be quieter, slowed down and suddenly, strangely warm.

He recognized the sensation and buried his face closer to Sann´s chest, hoping to catch the smallest warmth of it. That warmth after freezing, was a sensation deeply ingrained in his memory that he had always tried to make sure not to feel again.

He had managed, learning the hard way the first time without his Anshe. When he had grabbed enough wood from the trees that granted life and kept it on his clothes, close to his heart, above the seal on his chest and on his pockets just as she had told him to, so if he fell unconscious during his travels, the ritual would still carry on.

“Anshe…”

Right before Albus lost consciousness in his withering human body, the wind carried his muttered call for help to the ears of the ancient being patrolling her woods. The ancient then turned on her steps to aid once more, the albino boy who refused to join the song lost souls sang in her forest every night.

“Al! Albus! Albus please wake up!” The angel screamed, pushing his already tired wings to go faster. Barely avoiding the trees that were almost glued together and intertwined one over the other. “Al! Wake up! Wake up, please!” The angel screamed without response.

The boy in his arms labored, spaced out breathing was the only sign that he was indeed still alive. But the way only the fur on his clothes was warm injected even more adrenaline into the angel’s veins.

He darted his eyes around, scanning for anything that looked similar to Albus, but it was useless, there was nothing but trees and birds that flew away startled when he passed through cutting the air. He stopped abruptly when he only met a wall of stone covered on snow.

“Where am I supposed to go, Al?!” He shouted at the unconscious boy in his arms. Tears rolled down his cheeks when he got no response. He hugged him tighter then, hands glowing trying to stop the cold from finally freezing his heart “What am I supposed to do?” He sobbed.

As the snow began to cover his wings and time excruciatingly passed without him knowing where to go, the weight of loneliness began weighing him down.

At that moment, he realized he was completely alone and how little he really knew about the demon he held so tight in his arms. There were so many things he wanted to ask him and hadn’t had the chance to yet. There were so many things he wanted to know about him, about his culture, about the demons and their realm, about how he seemed to know so much angels and the person he had learned all of that from: Anshe.

He gasped in realization.

Names held power over the bearer, but he had said it was just the way he called her. Would it work just the same?

He looked down at him. A grim pale extending over him gave him the courage to drag air into his lungs.

“ANSHE!” He screamed. “ANSHE!” He continued screaming as he zoomed back into the woods, following a trail of roots without realizing the marks on the trees. “ANSHEEEEE” he yelled until his voice cracked.

He soon found himself in the quieter place in the woods, not a single bird chirp, nor a single frog croaked. The sudden silence seemed to swallow him whole, forcing him to stop in the middle of a clearing filled to the brim with snow.

More of his tears fell over the boy’s cheeks when he felt him breath so, so slowly he might as well had stopped breathing. Sann cradled him in his arms then and wailed.

“Please, don’t leave me” the young angel cried as his wings wrapped them in a cocoon. Light glowing intensely and leaking through the gaps of his wings, Illuminating them in such a way, they looked as a small sun, kneeling in the ground in the dead of night. “You still have to show me your realm, Albus. I-I want to learn more about you. I want to spend more time with you” he said in a choked sob “You can’t do this to me. Please don’t do this” the angel’s chest wobbled, swallowing through the lump on his throat “Wake up. Please wake up”

When Sann looked at him again, Albus face had relaxed. His blue lips hung slightly open and his chest didn’t go up again. Without resisting, tears flowed down helplessly as his frown deepened and slowly let out a shaky breath. Sann hugged him tighter and let himself cry, before shoving the bags off his face.

He looked as if he had just fallen asleep.

Sann exhaled a long breath before pressing his lips to his forehead. No burn appearing made his heart clutch tighter in his chest.

“Albus…” he called, cupping his face in his hand as a soft breeze blew, carrying the sound of steps.

Sann felt nothing. Suddenly he wasn’t worried about the humans that might had been pursuing them or had heard him call for help. He let the cocoon of feathers unfold before him exactly the moment a ray of moonlight shone through the treetops. No longer caring if he was captured.

His mind was completely blank as the steps grew closer. He only nuzzled the boy’s face in grieving longing as the last step sounded right behind him.

“I heard your call, angel” a soft voice told him while setting one giant hand over his shoulder. His frowned tightened and with tear stained cheeks, he turned to face an skull with glowing empty sockets. “Thank you for bringing back my child. You made a good job finding this place all on your own” she said in a warm voice. However, Sann was aghast, completely lost in her eyes. Their glow so dim and calming he couldn’t move at all as she reached down to stroke Albus face. “Welcome back home, Albus”

“Anshe..?” The angel’s tongue rolled out the words as the skull nodded.

He watched her stretch her long, ebony black limbs to pick up Albus and then cradle him into her chest before she walked to the middle of the clearing and gently put him down, pulling his stiff arms over his chest and forcing his hands open before pulling off the hood and roughly sewn shirt as Sann stood up to follow her.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, he is already…” his voice cracked.

“Still alive, dear child of the skies” she declared, picking a bottle from the belt hanging off her hip and pulling out what seemed to be chips of wood.

“What?”

“Younglings like you are always rushing. Time goes so fast in your lives, you barely can afford to enjoy it as it passes. Always wanting to stop time, when the beauty stands in letting it be” a soft giggle permeated Sann’s ears as she drew a seal on Albus’ face and palms in rich red. “Albus himself refuses to let it catch up to him. My reckless son…has the stars given up on their curse over you?” She sweetly said.

“Come forth, child. I want to see you” Sann doubted moving for a second, but his feet pulled him closer to her long, clawed fingers. She examined him for a moment. Fingertips gently holding his chin in place when she hummed “So it was you the stars told me about. The path of your choices took you to indescribable horrors, I can see, but will take you to a rightful peace you would not found in any other road. Thank you” she looked back at the body laid over the snow. Unmoving and gray under the shiny moonlight, “His fate was sealed before he stepped into life, however, I’m glad it was you, Sann, The fallen angel, who met him in the darkest time” she said in genuine gratitude.

“How do you-?”

“I have known your creator for longer than this mountains have stood. Curious one. Shame they despise to be proven wrong. Knowing that temperamental child, they should be around the thirty…thirty third? Companion. So, “Sann” is simply written all over your face, dear”

Sann chewed on his lip before looking back at Albus. The hole on his heart growing bigger at the sole sight of him laid on the floor getting slowly covered in snowflakes.

“He is gone”

“He has always come back. Today is not an exception, Sann” she reassured him without looking back at him “A simple demon who has not lived even a blink of what I have, gave me the name you called me by. How graceless, to have the audacity to name me” as she spoke the moonlight fell over them and Anshe pulled away, putting an arm over Sann’s chest “I can not lie I’ve taken a liking to such a name. Enough to make it mine” she said, eyes nailed on the boy whose chest puffed as he gasped for air and then twisted in pain.

“Albus!” Sann shouted, finding Anshe’s arm on his way “Please, move!”

“It’s not over yet. Don’t interrupt if you care, angel” Sann’s eyes slid back to now a screaming Albus.

“Al!” The angel revolted, but Anshe kept him in place.

“Do not. He will definitely join the lost souls if you touch him” Sann froze and let out a frustrated whine as he watched Albus curl and twist into himself, growling and screaming into the ground as if something was burning him alive.

The thousand voices came back and whispered Sann’s name. Calling for him in all directions, but when Sann turned around to find the moonlight dimmed drastically and pulled everything into shadows. His legs began shaking when he noticed the thousand black figures hiding behind the trees with big white eyes and sharp teeth, mocking from the top of trees and and under his own shadow, stretching their small hands to reach for him, whispering unintelligible things that made Sann’s senses burst, unsettled. Panic overtook him when he felt a shadow grasp on his pants and began climbing up his leg.

His knees and wings locked, however, making them completely useless. He wouldn’t budge even if the desperation of escaping to safety made his ears rang along the cacophony of sounds melting into Albus’ hollering.

With one last wail, the shadows vanished and when Sann looked up, horns bursted through the demon´s forehead while a tail ripped his clothes. Nails grew larger and larger, scratching the snow below him before he spit out fetid red blood that slowly turned black when a pair of teeth fell into it and dissolved.

Hewhipped his torso back, face up at the moon. As soon as his eyes opened, the marks on his cheeks appeared again, ever so slowly before he fell backwards into the snow.

Sann pushed the ancient´s arms away and rushed to collect him in his arms, rushedly covering him with his own cloak yet again.

“Albus, Albus!” The angel said stroking the demon’s face harshly, noticing the warmth spreading through his cheeks and into his figners, painting his cheeks a furious red as Albus opened his eyes.

A soft exhale left his lips, but inside his head, Sann could feel his soothing voice calling for him. Calling him by his name.

Not able to hold back any longer, Sann pulled him into a tight hug and cried into his chest. When Albus passed an arm over his neck and nuzzled his face the angel wailed harder, chest wobbling with his sobs.

Anshe kneeled next to them and Albus small hand wrapped around hers as a smile formed on his face.

“Welcome back, Albus” she said squeezing his hand.

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ineloqueent · 4 years ago

Text

Starstruck: Part 16

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 16 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 15 / Part 17

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, sentiments of worthlessness

Historical Inaccuracies:

no idea what happened on the first night of tour; yay fictionalisation!

Word Count: 4.1k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You’d never seen anything like it.

People had gone as far as to camp out in front the venue the night before, sharing blankets and passing around coffee and various types of alcohol to keep warm, cheering as the tour bus had pulled into the carpark, running to shake hands with the roadies as they began to unload equipment.

Then there’d been the next wave of show-goers, the second-most dedicated bunch. They’d arrived hours and hours before the gig, had clamoured for a spot in line closest to the front of the door.

And, from backstage, you could hear people laughing and shouting happily as they entered the theatre, overjoyed even just to be there, in a place where Queen would perform.

The enthusiasm was contagious, and it washed over you in waves, every cry as friends reunited to see their favourite band play live, every hiss of excitement when the stage curtains rustled or a roadie happened to pass through the main room of the theatre. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in t-shirts with Queen’s logo on it, t-shirts that looked like they’d been worn and loved since the beginning of time, and waved banners made with old sheets and acrylic paint. The dedication alone was flooring.

Freddie seemed to think so too.

“Can you hear them, out there?” he was saying.

The crowd was chanting, and the poor supporting band had never stood a chance; the people were shouting for what they wanted, and the shouts rang out loud and clear— we want Queen! We want Queen! We want Queen!

“Yeah,” Roger nodded, a grin spreading across his face. He was already tapping his drumsticks, on the edge of a table, and alongside the rhythm, your heartbeat increased, the anticipation in the room building with each moment you lingered there.

“I wish Veronica were here,” Deacy sighed, and you turned to him in sympathy. Through everything, she was always the person on his mind, the person he wanted to share a moment with. You couldn’t imagine a purer form of love.

Roger said, “For god’s sake, John, it’s been barely a day,” but he too sounded sorry.

Brian wasn’t participating in the conversation, even as Freddie gushed on about the pre-show thrill, and as Roger resolved to take a Polaroid of Deacy each night before a concert, so that the latter could show Veronica and Robert how he’d continued to think of them while he was gone.

You approached Brian, who was doing his make-up in the mirror Freddie had recently vacated, drawing on black eyeliner with a heavy hand. He glanced over his shoulder as your neared, and his lips curved upward, but his expression was tight.

“You okay?” you asked, touching his shoulder lightly.

He straightened up from where he’d leaned to reach the mirror, and as you dropped your hand, you noticed the tremble in his.

“Hey,” you frowned, taking the eyeliner from him and replacing it on the counter. “Are you— are you nervous?”

Brian bit his lip and glanced away in something like shame.

He looked so vulnerable in that moment, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched, curls floating down to hide his eyes.

“Ridiculous, isn’t it?” he murmured, punctuating the remark with laughter that was probably meant to be light but did not come off that way at all.

You took his hand. “No, it’s not.”

Without looking at you, he exhaled slowly. Then, to your vehement surprise, he pulled on your hand and brought you close to him, gathering you up in his arms and clutching you to his chest.

You let out a soft oh, wrapping your arms around his slim torso as he drew a quivering breath. You could hear his heartbeat, fast and heavy, and you tightened your hold around him.

“It’s okay,” you smoothed your hands over his back, trying to steady his breathing. “You’ll be brilliant.”

You felt him nod.

“But why are you nervous now? You’ve done this hundreds of times.”

Brian sighed. “I’m always nervous,” he said.

“And what do you normally do about it?”

“Nothing. Shove it down. Try not to think about it.”

“Excellent coping mechanism,” you muttered. “Well, I’ll be here to give you your daily hug.”

Brian laughed, mirth returning to the sound.

“Thank you,” he said. He gave you another squeeze before letting go.

“Anytime,” you responded, dropping your arms to your sides.

But he shook his head. “Really, love. Thank you.”

You smiled, and his eyes glowed with warmth.

“Brian?” said Roger, and Brian spun toward his bandmates.

“It’s time,” Freddie breathed, and beyond the dressing room, beyond the hallways and the empty rooms and the walls plastered with signatures of performers past, the audience breathed with him.

They were him. He was them. Freddie Mercury breathed life, and life honoured him in its existence.

A flurry of smiles were exchanged, and soon you were following four of the most brilliant people you’d ever met toward the stage where thousands of other lucky souls would delight in their talent.

A group formed quickly, Freddie with Roger at one shoulder and Mary at the other, Heather close behind, followed by Crystal and Deacy and Roadie John, and Peter Hince and you with Brian, Ian bringing up the rear.

Your thoughts raced, but everything around you moved as though soaked in treacle, as though delayed, your mind compensating for the adrenaline in your veins by slowing everything down.

Then Freddie was being handed his sheared-off microphone stand, and Roger was tousling his hair in a last-minute fix, and Deacy was slinging on his bass while Brian lifted his guitar.

It was all so surreal, the chatter and laughter amongst the group, the occasional eyebrow raise or wink exchanged in anticipation of what was about to begin, the hush that fell over the crowd before Queen were announced and finally, finally, took the stage, cheers from the audience rattling the walls of the theatre, the ground, as though it all was no more than rice paper.

“Go House Lights.”

You clasped your hands to your chest, unable to keep the smile from your face as the lights went up and Queen were illuminated in all their shiny satin splendour, as the first chord rang from Brian’s guitar, and Roger’s drumsticks met with the drums in an earthquake of noise, and Deacy strummed his bass until the floors hummed with the sound, and Freddie launched into song.

Heather leaned against your shoulder, and when you looked over at her, she extended her hand to you. Mary held Heather’s other hand, smiling at the view of the stage with tears in her eyes. She nodded to you in silent solidarity, and you took Heather’s outstretched hand.

Such a feeling of belonging washed over you, and the intensity of the sensation brought tears to your eyes as well.

You didn’t want to run. You wanted to be where you were.

You’d never felt that before.

Not before now.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The first gig had been electric.

Queen had opened and closed to a rager of an audience, and had held them enraptured, wound around their pinkies throughout, a spell cast over everyone within the room. You’d felt it too— when they harmonised, when Roger’s drumming ran with John’s bass and the sound of it replaced your thoughts, when Freddie rushed past you for a costume change, when Brian leaned into one of his guitar solos.

The ‘Son & Daughter’ solo had sent shivers down your spine.

You’d felt like you were back in the pub on that first night, watching Brian’s eyes catch on yours. Indeed, he seemed to remember it too. He’d looked to you in the wings, smiled upon singing the very same line he’d sung to you all those months ago. Shivers.

Now, a few hours later, Freddie was keeping the energy going with his first-night-of-tour party.

And you were wearing Zandra’s top, the one she’d made for you.

You’d all but forgotten about the top over the summer, despite having brought it with you after Zandra had dropped it off at your house.

But you’d seen the garment as soon as you’d unpacked back on Camden High Street, and in its glittering grandeur, it was begging to be worn. So you’d packed it again, this time to take with you on tour.

And when on this night you’d finally donned the sparkly top, you’d felt invincible.

The party was an extravagant event. Queen hadn’t even released the album yet and they were already spending fantastical amounts of money. But given that Deacy would be attending Freddie’s party of his own free will, you supposed that the event must have been cleared by budgeting. Still, you didn’t want to know how much Freddie had spent on decorations, his own outfit, the food.

The party was at the hotel where you all were staying, but for tonight’s occasion, Freddie had also booked the dance hall which lay on the seventh floor, and several surrounding suites— “In case people get frisky, darling.”

You were met at the door of the dance hall by none other than Freddie himself, who was personally greeting and directing people as he oversaw the admittance of the guestlist.

When he saw you he opened his arms widely, and you hugged him.

“Hello Freddie,” you said.

He kissed the top of your head enthusiastically. “Y/N, I’m so happy you’re here!” It was apparent he’d already had a couple of drinks. Tipsy, not yet drunk. Still coherent, at least. “And that top is stunning!” he picked at the sleeve of your sparkly black blouse. “One of Zandra’s?”

“Yeah, she actually made it for me,” you responded with an amused smile, remembering Zandra’s spontaneous visit to your place back in June.

Freddie raised his eyebrows. “My goodness, she must have liked you a lot. Go on inside,” he patted your shoulder.“I’ll join you all in a few minutes.”

“Okay. See you in a bit.” You smiled, but the expression was uneasy, because you’d just remembered how it was you felt about parties. All that mingling with people you barely knew, and hovering awkwardly by the bar because you were avoiding people you’d spoken to earlier and didn’t want to speak to again.

“Oh and, darling!” Freddie called, just as you were going.

“Yeah?”

His lips curled into a smile, and his eyes looked villainous in their winged eyeliner.

“Brian’s looking for you,” he winked.

A shiver ran through you.

“Oh— okay,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks begin to burn.

The flush spread through your body as you entered the dimly lit room, as anticipation and nervousness shook your hands where they hung by your sides.

Would you be able to spot anyone you knew? Quickly? You didn’t much want to repeat the experiences of your teenage years.

Would Brian be there, waiting? And if he was, what would he think of what you were wearing? Your blouse was loose and low-cut, your trousers were silky and tight. The thought of his eyes running over you tickled goosebumps into your skin.

The music in the hall was already loud, and you wondered how many complaints Freddie would receive from the other hotel guests before the night was through.

Walking deeper into the hall, you remembered why the music was so loud.

The hall had a record player in a corner and boasted impressively sized speakers, courtesy of Deacy, who had, in a conversation with Freddie that you’d only heard bits and pieces of, insisted music was so much a part of creating an atmosphere. He’d also insisted on overseeing the rig himself, with Queen’s own sound crew running the whole thing.

The low lighting was purple, blue, and black in tone, and a disco ball strung from the ceiling reflected the colours around the room. Streamers and balloons and at least a hundred people dancing and mingling completed the look of the hall and energised the place, similar to the feeling evoked by the Speak at Oxford Circus upon initial entry.

Coincidentally, the first party-goer you recognised was Deacy, and when he saw you, he grinned and made his way over to you, a colourful cocktail in hand.

Relief left you in a sigh.

“Hello Y/N!”

“Hi, Deacy!” You wrapped John in a hug, though you’d seen him just hours ago. His presence was comforting in the sea of strangers that surrounded you.

“So,” Deacy gestured to your sparkly blouse, “dressed to impress, are we?”

“Not at all,” you shouted over the disco blaring from the speaker rig.

“Not even a certain Brian May?”

Just then, someone called your name, and you whirled, heart thudding. But where you had expected to find Brian, you instead spotted Roger, waving at you cheerily.

You waved back, then said to Deacy with a slight laugh, “No. Don’t think he’d want me to.”

John raised his eyebrows. “What makes you say that?”

“Deacy,” you implored, “he called me his best friend.”

“Y/N! How many times—” Deacy gave a heavy sigh. “That’s what I said to my girlfriend before I married her.”

You pursed your lips. “I think you two are the exception, not the rule.”

John rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, whatever, but he already can’t take his eyes off of you, so if you made a move, I daresay he wouldn’t mind.”

“What—” you started, but Deacy had disappeared into the crowd.

“Y/N,” said a familiar voice, and you turned toward the sound.

Brian.

Wide-eyed, soft-lipped. Even the dim lighting could not shroud his beauty in shadow.

“You look…” he shook his head slowly. “Like the night sky.”

And here he was complimenting you.

“Is that a good thing?” you asked, knowing full well what his answer would be, but wanting to hear him say it.

His gaze ran all over you, beginning where your toes peeked out of your high heels, skimming up your legs and over your torso and finally fixing upon your eyes. The look felt suddenly more intimate to you than any touch had ever been.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured. He held his hand out to you. “Dance with me?”

You had no qualms about taking his hand.

Until of course Led Zeppelin’s ‘Whole Lotta Love’ ended and someone replaced the record, setting the needle to the third track.

You knew that it was the third track, because Heather had once made you memorise the tracklist of this record.

Heather. How you missed Heather. You barely saw her anymore.

Heather had once been your closest friend, and she’d very much shaped the person you were today.

When you’d first become friends, she had taken you shopping and taught you how to dress to accentuate what you wanted to accentuate, how to dress to make you feel like fashion was your friend, and not your enemy, as it had often been, in terms of poor self-image. And in terms of music, she had introduced you to so many artists, most notably Mott the Hoople.

A Mott the Hoople record was now on the deck, and that was why, when across the room the needle was placed down on the new record, you were washed away in a wave of nostalgia.

But you weren’t the only one.

Brian’s lips were gently agape, and eyes were soft with emotion, so much sadness in his eyes that you wondered if he’d ever really been happy, all those times he’d smiled.

He still held out his hand, but now he did so almost shyly. The askance was still there, though, and he was asking you to dance with him.

Slowly, you took his hand, and he drew you close, one palm against the small of your back, his other hand remaining in yours.

He exhaled in a tense manner as you laid your head against his chest.

Then he began to talk.

“Last year, we were abroad, opening for Mott the Hoople every night on their tour.”

You’d never thought about the fact that the band you were friends with had worked with the band you’d so revered in your teenage years. It was a riveting, if slightly bizarre, thought. But you kept this musing to yourself; Brian rarely talked unprompted in this way, and you wanted to hear what he had to say.

“They played this song every night,” he said as he swayed with you, “and it was a right rager. Everyone loved it, sang it like it had been written for them, like it belonged to them. And in a way, it did. It wasn’t written for them, but it became theirs, the disaffected youth, the lost, the ones who couldn’t be themselves for the existence of others, the hopeless dreamers.”

You looked up at him, to see how his words had changed the expression on his face.

His gaze was unfixed, staring past you with sleepy eyes in a face of grim sentimentality.

“I stood backstage, in my dark makeup and sweeping sleeves, with Freddie smoking beside me, Roger jumping up and down and twirling his drumsticks, Deacy tuning his unplugged bass up and down. And I thought to myself,” he gave a short laugh, “what the hell am I doing here? All these people... they’re behaving like they belong on stage, like we belong on stage, like I’m not some awkward astrophysics student still unsure of his life choices, walking around in garb that makes David Bowie’s fashion look about as flamboyant as plaid pyjamas.”

You smiled a little at this last remark, given its intention of humour, but everything Brian was saying carried with it such a weight that sadness remained your prevailing emotion.

“Even though I loved performing, there were times when I felt I was not me, not in my body, only watching all these things happen, from very far away.” He exhaled slowly, and the sound was so pitiful that you wanted to draw him even closer. “I was tall and shy and awkward, and you know, nothing’s changed.”

“It was only a year ago,” you said gently. But Brian shook his head.

“So much can change in the course of a year,” he murmured, and you thought his palm pressed more warmly against your back. He met your eyes. “But I haven’t changed. I haven’t changed at all.”

“I would never want you to change.”

He echoed that sad smile you’d smiled earlier. He looked down, and a curl fell over his face. Your heart ached at the sight of him. You contemplated reaching up and winding the curl around your forefinger, to bring him nearer to you, to let him know that you meant what you had said.

Then his smile disappeared entirely.

“What if my dad’s right, Y/N?” his voice was plaintive. “What if I’ve made the wrong decision, pulling out of uni? What if Queen go nowhere? What if we fade away, or fall apart? What if I’m only losing time?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he wasn’t finished.

“What if I’m not good enough?”

You stopped dancing, letting go of him only to reach up and touch his cheek.

“Brian, look at me.”

He looked at you.

“Define wrong,” you said. “Would you call three, four albums, with chart-topping numbers nowhere? Would you call travelling the world to play music for hundreds of thousands of people who adore you nowhere? Do you think hundreds of thousands of people will just let you fade away? Would you let the four of you fall apart? And would you ever give up the time you’ve spent with Fred and Rog and Deacy, with Zandra bloody Rhodes, through all this wonderful madness?”

You cupped his face, staring into his eyes and willing him, willing him, to believe you. “You’re good enough for all that, Brian. And whatever happens, you’ll always be good enough for me.”

He was speechless, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, motionless though his skin was rosy and his pulse was skipped madly beneath your fingers.

“You’re too good for me,” he whispered. “You always will be.”

He was no longer dancing, and nor were you, because your leg was pressed against his, and his eyes were warmer than sunlight, and you were holding his hand and felt his pulse thrum against your own, and his mouth hovered over yours.

You were so close to him that you could see the little freckle on his lower lip.

Your breath left you in a gasp, and then he was kissing you.

Heat spilled through your veins, dizzying you, and the world felt enchanted.

Brian’s hands were pressed to either side your face, and the gentleness with which he kissed almost hurt. All that you had longed for, held at a distance, brushed away for fear of unrequitedness, was here in this moment, and it was yours.

Yours.

How long had you waited to call this yours? To feel deserving of something like this, someone like this. Still, he was wrong; he was the one who was too good for you. Yet you could not make yourself pull away from him.

You were melting beneath his touch, breathless, pressing closer to him though you were already in his arms, and you were starlight. Floating, ethereal. He made you feel ethereal.

His lips slipped from yours and you opened your eyes to find his gaze on you, his chest rising and falling quickly, and you felt your cheeks flush at his attentiveness.

With his dark curls tumbling about his face, Brian was looking a bit pink himself, much like his summer sunburn, except that his skin was now still lightly tanned from the summer, and this pink only touched his cheeks in a subtle way that enhanced his prettiness by a ridiculous amount.

And then he smiled.

Oh.

It nearly knocked the air from your lungs again.

“Brian,” you breathed, laying your hand over the hand that still rested against your face.

He dipped his forehead and whispered the words across your lips. “Yes, love?”

You couldn’t help it. You ran a finger beneath his jaw, and he shivered.

This time, you kissed him.

His parted lips tasted of chocolate, his hair smelled of flowers, and it was all you could do to not collapse on the spot.

A little whimper escaped you, and you pulled back shyly.

You had suddenly remembered your surroundings, and blushed at the thought of anyone seeing how you’d swooned into Brian’s arms.

“People are staring,” you said.

Brian gave another little shake of his head. “No one’s looking at you,” he murmured, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Well, that’s not strictly true, because I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

You allowed yourself a smirk. “So I’ve been told.”

Brian looked amused. “Am I that obvious?”

“Not to me, at least.”

“Really?” he raised his eyebrows. “I’ll try to be more obvious in the future.”

Your insides tumbled at the mention of a supposed future.

But then someone gave a cry of alarm, and though Brian still held you tightly, your thoughts scattered like the people around you.

A glass had been shattered.

Purposely.

It’d been thrown. Hurled to the ground in a furious rage.

Somewhere, the music ground to a halt.

“How could you?!”

You recognised the shrill voice as Mary’s. It appeared that Brian did too, because his eyes widened.

“Mary, darling, let’s just—”

“No, Freddie, let us not anything. There is no us. You’ve made that very clear.”

Mary came into view as she ran past you in perilously high platforms, wiping away black tears on the sleeves of her white blouse.

“Mary, wait!”

Freddie hurried after her, and everyone stood gaping in his wake. But when he reached the door that Mary had disappeared beyond, his shoulders slumped, as though the fight had gone out of him. He made a turn down the adjacent hallway instead.

“Jesus Christ,” Brian murmured, eyes trailing after the spectacle that had just taken place. Then he let go of you and followed Freddie.

“Has anyone seen a broom?” someone said to the silence of the room.

You swayed where you stood, alone in the middle of it all, still trying to process the multitude of things that had happened in the past two minutes.

“Y/N!” Brian called to you from the door to the hallway Freddie had taken. “Find Mary, would you?”

You nodded absently, pressing your fingers to your lips where Brian’s soft mouth had pressed just moments before. The blood still rushed in your ears, your heart still hammered in your chest.

You opened the door to the stairwell and followed after Mary.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: i’m smiling smugly right now and you can’t stop me

taglist: @melting-obelisks @retropetalss @hgmercury39 @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz @perriwiinkle @brianmays-hair @im-an-adult-ish @ilikebigstucks @doing-albri @killer-queen-87 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @archaicmusings @cloudyyspace @annina-96 @themarchoftherainbowqueen @annajolras

Masterpost / Part 15 / Part 17

#tina's writing #starstruck #brian may x reader #fic

102 notes · View notes

suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years ago

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If You Just Realize

Part Six: Projecting

Summary: After being called to pick up Milena in the middle of the night, the weight of things causes friction between Sebastian and Y/N. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 2075 Series Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Chapter Warnings: Couple curse words, hospital setting, stroke, light angst/confusion. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language.

Series Masterlist

GIF Credit

The wedding plans came together quickly. Without anything elaborate in mind, there weren’t a lot of details to work out. The dress had been purchased that afternoon, with Georgeta and Milena’s help before Milena went back to Alice and Tim’s house until the day of the wedding. Y/N’s immediate family and her grandmother would be in New York the day after tomorrow, the wedding would take place at City Hall the day after that, and then they would be married.

Married. I’m marrying him. Seb’s going to be my husband, Y/N thought to herself as she stared up at the ceiling in the guest bedroom at Sebastian’s apartment. She had explained that she was getting overwhelmed and needed a little space. Sebastian was honest: he was feeling overwhelmed, too, and some space might be a good thing for both of them.

“Not a bad start to a marriage, as far as honest communication,” Y/N mumbled to herself, trying to get comfortable. Her efforts were in vain, however, and when Sebastian knocked on the guest room door a few minutes before midnight, he only had to do so once before Y/N was sitting up and telling him to come in. He was still in the same t-shirt and sweats he had gone to bed in, but now he had donned sneakers and was stuffing the essentials — phone, keys, wallet — into his pockets.

He leaned in the doorway then. “Sorry to wake you. Tim Hill is in the hospital; they think he had a stroke. Alice just called me, I’ve got to go get Milena. I didn’t want you to worry if you woke up and I was gone. I guess I could have texted you …”

“No, no,” Y/N assured, throwing back the covers and sliding out of bed. “I was awake. I’ll go with you — if you want.”

Sebastian’s tired half-smile conveyed his relief. Y/N hurried to put on some leggings with the t-shirt she had gone to bed in and push her feet in a pair of sneakers, then followed Sebastian out to his car. The drive to the hospital was silent, and when they arrived, they met in front of the parked car and joined hands without either of them thinking twice.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Alice greeted quietly. She turned and motioned to Milena, who was asleep on a cushioned bench in a private waiting room. “I hated to wake her and bring her here but hated even more to not come with Tim. I suppose that’s selfish of me.”

Y/N shook her head while Sebastian scooped Milena up from the bench. “Not at all — you should be here. If there’s anything we can do …”

“Coming to get her is a huge help,” Alice sighed. Her eyes were puffy from a lack of sleep and from crying. “I thought I was going to lose him, you know. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

Milena whimpered, holding tighter to Sebastian. All three of them focused on her for the moment, waiting to see if the whimpers would become full-on cries, but only a few seconds later, the little girl was asleep again.

Alice brushed some hair away from Milena’s face. “Get her home and get her to sleep. I know you two have big plans coming up, and I’ll help where I can, but —”

“Don’t even think about it,” Y/N responded kindly, hugging Alice. “You take care of Tim. We’re all in this together, yeah?”

The older woman nodded and shed a few tears returning Y/N’s embrace. With one more reminder to call if they needed anything, Y/N followed Sebastian and Milena back out to the car.

“Thank goodness you convinced me to keep a carseat in here,” Sebastian sighed. “I can’t imagine trying to figure that out at this hour and under the circumstances.”

Y/N gave him a tired smile. “Just being proactive is all — I’m here to help, remember? I’m doing what I’m here to do.”

Sebastian finished buckling Milena in, then turned to see Y/N still standing behind him. “I’ve buckled her in before, you know.”

“I know,” Y/N smirked, “but you’re also tired and a little worked up. Like I said, I’m here to help. I’m your backup, your support. If that has to be for something as little as getting her buckled into her seat, then so be it. Eventually you’ll learn the ropes and you won’t need me anymore, but for now …”

She trailed off with a shrug. Sebastian gave her half of a smile, gently squeezing her arm and kissing her forehead.

The call from Philip came mid-morning, before any of them were awake. Sebastian scrambled to answer the phone before it woke Milena.

When they had returned to his apartment, Milena was asleep in Sebastian’s bed for all of ten minutes before she woke up screaming. Nothing they could think of could console her; her eyes were open but it was almost as though she didn’t see them. It had taken over two hours to get her to calm down, when she finally fell asleep in Sebastian’s bed again, Y/N on one side of her and Sebastian on the other. The two adults had a hard time falling back asleep, waiting to see if the girl would have another episode.

“Phil, hey, good morning,” Sebastian greeted, checking that both girls were still sleeping before he closed the bedroom door behind him.

“I’ve got news,” the lawyer returned. “Apparently you’re already aware of Tim Hill’s medical emergency last night. Alice Hill’s lawyer contacted me this morning to tell me they’re filing a motion to delay the case. You’ll be granted temporary custody of Milena. They’re asking for visitation during this time, of course, but it doesn’t look like Tim’s going to be able to take care of himself, let alone help take care of a little girl, any time soon.”

Sebastian drew in a deep breath. “All right so … what happens next?”

“You have Milena now?”

“Yeah. We picked her up from the hospital last night.”

Philip paused. “As long as you allow them to see Milena within reason, we can move forward with legal guardianship, adoption — whatever you and Y/N would prefer. As a professional courtesy, we should keep their lawyer and the Hills informed, but the decision is up to you. There’s no reason why we can’t use this time to build your case.”

He yawned and rubbed a hand over his face, forcing himself to move toward the kitchen and start the coffee pot. “I should probably talk to Y/N/N about that, I suppose, since we’re getting married.”

“So that’s still a thing, huh?” Philip asked on a sigh.

“Yes,” Sebastian chuckled, “it’s still a thing. I want to marry her, I’m going to marry her. I’ll talk to her when the girls are up and shoot you an email. Thanks for the update.”

“You’ll get my bill,” Philip teased.

With a quiet chuckle, Sebastian disconnected the call and tossed his phone on the counter. The coffee started to brew, the smell drawing Y/N from bed and into the kitchen.

“Morning,” she yawned. “You making coffee for one or two?”

“Two,” Sebastian smirked. “Milena still sleeping?”

Y/N nodded, covering another yawn with her hand. “Yeah, she’s out like a light. Lucky girl. We have to keep an eye on those terrors — maybe ask Alice if it’s happened before. Neither of us are working right now but eventually we will be. Not only do we need to sleep, but she’s going to have to stay behind and if we don’t get these issues under control now —”

“Philip called,” Sebastian interrupted, unable to listen to anything more about Milena’s potential issues, “because the Hills are putting off the custody battle. Tim’s going to be okay but he needs recovery time. As long as I — we — let them see her a reasonable amount, she’s mine. Ours. For the time being — uh, temporary custody, Phil said. I don’t — uh, we have a choice. We can do legal guardianship, we can adopt her. But since we’re getting married, we have to decide together what kind of a case we want to build.”

Y/N licked her lips and crossed her arms. “One tough subject to the next, huh?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and turned to the cupboard to pull down two mismatched mugs. He filled both of them with coffee and handed one to Y/N. Neither of them said anything for several minutes. Finally, Y/N set the half-full cup of coffee on the counter and made for the doorway.

“I’m gonna change and go for a run,” she said quietly.

Sebastian set his own coffee down and caught up to her in the front room; he gripped her arm, turning her to face him.

“We have to decide this!”

She wrenched her arm from his hold and pointed a stern finger at him. “No, Sebastian, you have to decide. I am going for a run.”

The door to the second bedroom slammed behind her. A few seconds later, Milena cried from Sebastian’s bed. With a sigh and a hand through his hair, Sebastian put on the happiest face he could muster and went to tend to his niece.

Y/N ran until her legs would no longer push her to run. What she was running from, she had no idea but she suddenly felt as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Maybe because she and Sebastian had never had any sort of tension between them, let alone an actual argument.

Not to mention, the strength with which she was feeling as if his life was her life was downright frightening. Sebastian was her friend, one of her best friends, but the impending wedding and ready-made family …

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Kennedy,” Y/N confessed to her closest friend back in Los Angeles. She had stepped into a smoothie cafe to recharge before starting the run back to the apartment and, feeling panic set in, called her friend.

Kennedy yawned. “Slow down, Y/N/N. I get that you’re up and going already, but we’re three hours behind you back here, remember?”

“Oh shit,” Y/N groaned. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, just — just freaking out.”

“Okay, okay — like I said, slow down. First of all, I didn’t even expect for you to be gone for so long, and then you call me freaking out and I don’t even know — what’s going on out there?”

Y/N drew in a deep breath before she spilled out every detail over the next several minutes — about Sebastian, about Milena, about the wedding. About how scared she was to want what she was getting but wouldn’t be allowed to keep.

“First of all, you need to take some deep breaths. Then, you’ve got to decide what you really want here. Sebastian is someone who I know means a lot to you, and I think you’re more concerned what all of this will do to your friendship as opposed to if you can take all of this on or how you’re gonna feel when it’s over.”

“You’re probably right,” Y/N sighed, leaning back in the booth. She took a long sip from her smoothie and swallowed it down. “Either way, I don’t want to lose him.”

Kennedy cleared her throat and yawned again. “I’m happy to support you through all of this, you know — in fact, I’m going to find the soonest flight out and try to make it for the wedding — but I really think you should talk to Sebastian about all of this. He’s probably just as overwhelmed as you are.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him. And Ken, you don’t have to come out for the wedding — it’s so last minute!”

“I’m gonna be there, so shut your mouth,” Kennedy chuckled. “Go talk to Sebastian, Y/N/N. Tell him what you’re feeling. You’ve been there for him through all of this and that’s great, but you still have to let him be a friend to you, too.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks. Let me know when you’re coming in, I’ll get you from the airport.”

Kennedy promised she would keep Y/N informed about her flight, and they ended the call. Y/N finished off her smoothie and stretched a little, tucking her phone into her hoodie pocket and leaving an extra tip for the staff before taking off down the sidewalk again.

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @captain-rogers-beard @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @jackryanplz @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl @averyrogers83 @jennmurawski13 @connie326

IYJR: @elsatxx @tanelle83 @amanda-teaches @etherealwaifgoddess @kmuir1 @ntlmundy @jayankles @rebekahdawkins @denise1605 @rhadigen @peace-love-hobbitness @itsallyscorner @mizzzpink @auspiciousharriet @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @learisa @tellmewhatyouwill

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #sebastian stan #reader insert #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #queue and i remember budapest very differently

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star-birthmark · 4 years ago

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Silent Saviors: 4taro x Fem Reader

Finally... FINALLY IT IS DONE! This is infernal ask that has been in my inbox for so long!!! Thank you to @stardustbrosaders for the request all those months ago lol. This was the request: “Heya! Would it be possible to write a P4! Jotaro x Female! Reader where the reader gets her stand under stress from a battle? The group almost gets defeated but the reader’s stand appears and she beats the enemy, saving everyone? For the readers stand type could it be close range like SP and CD?”

I also drew the reader’s stand for this fic. You can find a link to the stand info here.

This is a long ass fic btw. It’s literally 11 THOUSAND WORDS. I don’t know what compelled me to make the fic this long. I really don’t. But I did and here we are. I hope you like it, no matter how long it is!

Quick content warnings: General violence and angst, strangulation, murder (duh)

Without further ado: Silent Saviors: 4taro x Fem Reader (11k words)

A dark force was afoot in the town of Morioh once more, but it had just been a long day, and no progress had been made to capture that force. The team’s morale was low. The exhausted high school students stumbled home to catch a good night’s rest, thoughts of ongoing danger in their small town looming over their heads. The young manga artist Rohan Kishibe grumbled to himself about his failures, wondering how a genius like him could not decipher this mystery like he had last time. You felt a heavy air of unrest lay over the town as you awkwardly shifted in your seat on the ride to the Grand Hotel, looking over at your travel mate as he silently ran over the facts in his head. He shook his head in frustration. None of this made any sense. All the victims had been killed in the same way, so it must be a stand, one that didn’t leave behind any evidence, one potentially even more dangerous than Kira.

A dark force was afoot in the town of Morioh once more, but you didn’t know anything about the first monstrous event that had occurred. The small town’s silent saviors all agreed with one another to seal their lips and tell no one what had really happened. Not that anyone would have believed them.

But you would have. Your travel partner didn’t know anything yet, but the more time you two spent in this strange town, the crazier you felt you were becoming. You were seeing objects levitate in the air, you were seeing arms stick out from these bizarre teenagers. At this point, you’d believe anything just to make it all stop. You stumbled inside from the taxi, convinced this small town was driving you insane.

Your partner turned to you in front of your hotel room, his own room right next door, and placed his large hands on your shoulders.

“Are you alright (y/n)? If any of this investigation gets to be too much for you, just tell me and I’ll send you on the next flight back home.”

You snort tiredly. “Too much for me? Jotaro you look exhausted… You haven’t been taking breaks from the case at all… You’re always so anxious. Do you promise you’ll actually go to bed this time?”

Jotaro looked down at you and moved his hands from you, sighing heavily. “Yeah… I promise…”

You give him a shy smile before shrugging. “Besides… you need me, don’t you? Weren’t you the one that said I’m the only one that calms you down?”

Jotaro gulped and broke eye contact with you, his own silent way of admitting that you were right. You chuckled and opened the door to your hotel room, giving him one last look and goodnight before you left to go to bed. You would wake up about two hours later from the sound of your partner’s shuffling about in his room next door. You slipped on a thick crew neck over your thin tank top and shorts and open to the door connecting to the two rooms.

You peaked your head past the door to find a familiar sight before you. Pictures were tacked onto a corkscrew board, red thread connecting the dots to draw the group one step closer to solving the crimes. Files were splayed out over the desk, a map of the small Japanese town resting on the nearby bed, etched with red Xs displaying the sites where several young men and women met their demise. Amongst the mess, you found the broad shoulders of a tired Jotaro Kujo hunched over the desk, the young man still looking at the mountains of documents, eager to find the path to justice. It was hidden in those pages, he was sure of it. It had been your third night together in that hotel, and it was evident that you two would be there for much longer.

---

“Miss (L/N) it says here that you have received your degree in zoology and graduated at the top of your major.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And it says here that you recently led an academic study of marine biology that went very well back home.”

“Yes sir, and it would be an honor to join this esteemed team of scientists here at SPW.”

It was the year 1998, and you were interviewing to work at the Speedwagon Foundation. You had graduated atop your class, and had a passion for your work that few possessed, as well success that few could show for. You prayed that this interview was going well. The Foundation was the utmost important center of scientific research in the world and you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to work there. You watched the smile on your interviewer’s face as he reviewed your credentials before setting the paper down.

“Miss (L/N) I’d like to welcome you aboard our team. I believe you will contribute much to our efforts.”

Your face lit up in excitement and you rushed to shake his hand. “Thank you so much sir, I won’t let you down! If I could ask what position you’re hiring me for?”

“You see we have an opening for an assistant with the Kujo lab. Since you’re just starting off here- you’ll be assisting him in meetings and in bench work-”

“Excuse me... the Kujo lab? As in Jotaro Kujo? Isn’t he my age?” You interrupt nervously.

“Why yes miss… is there an issue?”

“Well no sir it’s just… I thought perhaps I’d be working under an esteemed professor… I didn’t think someone fresh out of grad school would already have a lab to himself… Not to sound ungrateful of course, I just didn’t realize I would be working under one of my contemporaries…”

A sigh came to the man and leaned back in his chair, thinking about how to explain the situation.

“Miss (y/n), the reason I’m placing you in Kujo’s lab is that I feel the two of you would work well together, given your similar backgrounds and parallel personalities…” You furrow your brow, unsure what the supervisor meant until you were face to face with Jotaro Kujo himself a few days later.

You still remembered the day well. You hung your coat up on a nearby hook and looked about the lab. Documents were piled over every available surface with no particular organization. A large fish tank stood in the far corner, a wild variety of fish encased within. Anatomical posters of aquatic life were all over the walls, and right by the window sat Jotaro. He hadn’t looked up when you came in. Approaching his desk, you stared down at the mass of black hair on the top of his head. Soon clearing your throat, the young doctoral student’s head shot up to look at you blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, taken aback by his unemotional expression, nervously turning to a notebook you had on hand.

“Uh… um… My name is (y/n) (l/n), your new coworker. I would like to thank you for allowing me into your lab. I had been going over your most recent papers on the social patterns of starfish on the eastern-most coast of Japan and I was just wondering if-”

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

You looked up from your notes and into the young man’s deep blue eyes, your breath catching in your throat. You struggled to form a sentence under the intense gaze, your breath shuttering out from your lips, and you looked back down at your notes.

“I’m (y/n) (l/n)... your new coworker.”

Jotaro nodded slowly, considering what you had just said. You watched as he removed his large white overcoat and leaned back in his chair, donned in a fitted black t-shirt.

“Why did they hire you?” You lean forward confused, your ear facing him.

“I’m sorry?”

“Why did they hire you?”

You look away for a moment, considering his now nervous expression, his nervous tick of chewing on his lip, his small twitches of the eye, his clenching and unclenching of his jaw. You looked down, finding his leg bouncing anxiously against the floor. A small, sweet smile came to you, and you opened your mouth to speak, alerting his attention.

“You and I apparently have parallel personalities… according to them.”

You watched as Jotaro’s lips curved into a shy smile and he got up from his seat, grabbing a notepad from a nearby drawer. He then turned to you and extended his arm out, pointing. You followed the direction of his hand and saw a separate desk facing his at the other end of the office. You turned back and quickly nodded, rushing to set your things down and then turning to face him once more.

Jotaro nodded courteously at you. “Have you read my most recent work?”

“Yes, I just told you that I did that-”

“Good. Come to the meeting with me then.”

You followed after him into a nearby boardroom, unsure of the situation about to befall you. The meeting began. Executives discussed their most recent funding prospects, deciding whether or not to continue their spending, depending on how successful the trials had been. You sat patiently in your chair, listening to the others argue frankly amongst themselves. A steady, fast tapping upon the table commanded your attention and you turned over to see Jotaro staring off into the distance, his fingers rapidly tapping on the desk, his whole form shaking with sensory overload.

“Mr. Kujo? And you?” You watched as Jotaro’s head shot up and he looked around the room. He hadn’t been listening, his mind had been too overcome with anxieties.

“I um… I uh… W-what were-”

You watched nervously as this man came undone at his seams. You cleared your throat and tapped the table next to his notepad. Getting the message, Jotaro grabbed the notepad quickly and anxiously flipped through its pages.

“Um… sorry about that. I would like to further my research- wait no this is on the wrong page. Wait no it’s not… wait-”

You looked around as the listeners began to get frustrated, looking at each other in jest of one of their top researchers. You chewed nervously on your finger, hoping Jotaro would pull himself together. It was your first day working with him, and it was already troublesome.

“I would like to further the research done in my penultimate paper. Or was it my most recent...”

“Mr. Kujo, we would have liked for you to have prepared for this meeting…”

“No no… I did. I did. Wait-”

With a quick motion, you reached over and placed a hand on Jotaro’s shoulder, calmly taking the notepad from him and then turning to the group. Jotaro looked away, still visibly shaken.

“Mr. Kujo clearly states in his most recent paper that he plans to continue his research, at a different coastal region, comparing more behaviors there to make sure that this past successful trial wasn’t any sort of spontaneous fluke. He writes in his goals of perhaps inspecting the regional colonies of starfish around S-Town… Following that, he plans to remain in contact with the genomic department and track genetic similarities between human and aquatic life that may explain the similar social patterns between the two.”

You explain to them all, having memorized the paper. Turning to the notepad, you saw what Jotaro had written in preparation for the meeting. You then turned back to the investors.

“Mr. Kujo kindly asks that you aid him in his funding so that mankind as a whole may find a better understanding of the natural world… That’s all he wanted to say. He just couldn’t find the right page. Sir.”

You reached back and placed the notepad back near Jotaro’s shaking hand. You returned your hand back to the other’s shoulder, squeezing gently to reassure the scientist that he was alright. The young man turned to you in a bit of surprise, not expecting your presence to calm him oh so much. The executives all took in your words and the head of the meeting slowly nodded.

“Well… thank you for your assistance, miss…?”

“(l/n).”

“Right well thank you… We will consider Mr. Kujo’s work for a second trial.”

“Thank you. He appreciates it.” With that, you let go of Jotaro’s shoulder.

The meeting soon adjourned, You got up to leave your seat when you felt Jotaro’s hand grab your shoulder. You turned around to see him slowly stand up from his chair.

“Thank you. I’m not a big fan of speaking to them…”

You nodded quickly. “Yes… of course…”

From that day on, the two of you were inseparable. Having experienced the horrific acts done to him and to those he loved back in his teenage years, Jotaro was convinced that you were the only one who could calm his constant nerves and anxieties. You became his most powerful tool against the outside world. You understood his work perfectly, understood his mannerisms perfectly, and respected his need for silence in the office. You knew how to say things the way he would himself, and you had no fear discussing them to other people. The two of you became much closer over the months of your working. Jotaro became much less of an enigma in your eyes. It would be a few months until Jotaro would unwillingly reveal his more “secret” projects.

The first time you saw the arrow, Jotaro did not want you to see it. But still, what happened that day would forever change your relationship with the young scientist. You had arrived early, hoping to surprise him with a hot breakfast and a smile. You turn the corner to walk into the lab, yet when you go to open the door, you find it locked. Strange. Looking inside the room, you find Jotaro hunched over his desk in focus, in the same clothes as the day before, having not yet unlocked the door. Even more strange. You knocked on the door, only for him to leave the room with another door in a hurry, ignoring your pleas. With a grumble, you dug for your keys, figuring his weird behavior was just fatigue, and that he probably slept over at work again. When you finally get into the lab, you place your things down, and that's when you see it lingering underneath his desk in a rushed hiding spot.

Encased within a thickly walled wooden box, an arrow remained, barely hidden from your gaze, as Jotaro had had no time to hide it from you. The latch was undone, another sign that Jotaro had run away from the scene.

Jerk. Didn’t he trust you enough to show you something like this? It’s just a bow and arrow! Why was he hiding it? You called out for him to return to the room and explain what the bow and arrow was for. Hearing no response, you turned back to the wooden box, reaching your hand in to inspect the bow and arrow.

It all happened so fast. In the blink of an eye.

There were no in-between movements. One moment you had pricked your finger on the razor sharp tip of the arrow, the next moment you were standing up, the box had been tightly locked, and Jotaro stood right in front of you, chest to chest, intensely staring you down. Your breath became ragged as you maintained eye contact with him. What just happened? You didn’t even hear him come in. The box was right before your very eyes, and you didn’t even see that it was locked. How did he even turn you around without you knowing?! A chill went down your spine as you hesitated to speak even a word to the man before you.

“Do you see what was in there?”

Jotaro asked you calmly. You felt a cold sweat form on your forehead. Jotaro, ever the impatient man, grabbed your jacket collar, shaking you out of your scared daze.

“I’m asking you now (y/n)! Did you see what was in there?!”

“No, I didn’t see anything! I don’t know what just happened! I swear! I saw you run away from the room and went to see what was in there and the next thing I knew you had come back and it was all so fast and I don’t understand and I-... Jotaro… you’re scaring me.”

Your body convulsed at his rough contact, your hands reaching up to push him away, but his tight grip on your jacket remained steadfast. Pure instinct had compelled you to lie to him about seeing the content of the box, but the terror and confusion you had displayed was genuine. You still didn’t understand how he was able to move that fast, or affect you with you even knowing. Just who was this man?

Jotaro stared down at you for a moment longer, before releasing you from his grip and taking a few steps back. You stumbled back, grabbing the edge of his desk to stabilize your fall. Your heart continued to race in your chest as you heaved, still struggling to make sense of what just happened.

Jotaro silently called out Star Platinum, having his stand hover right in front of you as you kept staring at him in confusion. Your expression didn’t change once he called out his stand. So you were telling the truth. You really hadn’t seen the arrow. Or at least, hadn’t touched it.

Jotaro sighed, rubbing the side of his head with a groan. He hadn’t stopped time in so long, but it seemed he was worried over nothing. “I’m sorry to frighten you, (y/n).”

You finally straightened yourself out, gulping. “Who the hell are you? Really?!”

“...I’m Jotaro Kujo. That is all.”

Another chill ran down up your spine, but you played it off. If he wanted to continue things as per usual, you’d have to do the same.

“Right… I brought breakfast. And there’s a morning meeting in half an hour so freshen up.”

You walked past him to retrieve the food you had bought for them. Looking down to pick it up, you noticed a red blood stain on your jacket. It must have been from your bleeding finger when you’d pricked it on the arrow. However, when you turned to look at the finger itself, you found that it was fully healed, not even scarred, even after such a precise and direct cut. Jotaro politely asked you for the food, claiming hunger, and you rushed to take your coat off and hide it away. You got the sense that he’d question further if he saw the fresh blood stain.

After that fateful morning, things continued on as per usual. You still had your questions, but after a few weeks had passed without another incident, you resolved that whatever that bow and arrow were must have been top secret for the Speedwagon Foundation. You figured no company could be as powerful as they were without keeping a few secrets. And this was one of them.

So you resolved to ask no questions about that one day. The same way you didn’t put up much of a fight when, in the summer of 1999, after months of you two planning to stay there together, Jotaro told you that he would be going to Morioh alone to research for his PhD, without you. You were furious, enraged how the two of you could become so close since you began working there, yet he still didn’t trust you to go with him. You argued with him the night before he was set to leave, but his resolve never crumbled. You weren’t going to Morioh, that was final.

In the three months that he was gone, Jotaro regularly sent you his findings, and you sorted them back at Speedwagon Headquarters. When he finally came back, more visibly shaken than he was before, you could only wonder what the coworker you had grown so attached to had experienced in Morioh in the summer of 1999.

Circling back to the present day, it was the winter of 2000, and there was yet again a dark force afoot in the town of Morioh. Only this time, Jotaro would not go alone.

“You have to let me come with you this time.”

“Explain why. Explain why I have to let you come with me this time. I did just fine on my own before.”

You gritted your teeth at the other’s stubbornness. “Will you please just listen to me? Jotaro when you came back from Morioh, you were even harder to deal with than before! Any sound in the office set you on edge and you screamed when someone set off fireworks near our building! And you still haven’t explained to me what happened there! Now let me come with you! I can help!”

Jotaro turned his attention away from his work, finally looking at you for the first time in that conversation. He hadn’t realized just how attached to you he’d become, how much you meant to him. You were his ticket into communicating with the world to his fullest, and after recalling several confusing conversations with Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi, Jotaro realized he actually needed you in order to articulate himself to the others without getting too anxious or angry.

“Alright fine. We’re leaving tomorrow at 2. You better be ready.”

But nothing could have prepared you for the horrors you were about to encounter in that small town. To your shock and disgust, you learned that aside from his research, Jotaro was investigating a murderer. And then you met Josuke and the others. That was when you first felt that you were going crazy. When you saw glimpses of third arms extend out from these teenagers, saw one of them heal a broken leg with ease, saw another erase space itself. People all over this small town were vanishing in thin air, and the incidents were happening more and more frequently. It didn’t make any sense, but no one was commenting on it, so you felt you were just imagining things. The same way you must have imagined Jotaro moving at lightspeed that morning you pricked your finger on the arrow.

Finally, we return to the current scene of Jotaro hunched over his desk, his room in the Morioh Grand Hotel littered with documents, the board nearby covered in photos and string, the bedside clock reading 2:33 am. You approached him carefully in the tense silence, knowing not to startle him whenever he was in deep thought.

“...Jotaro-”

“Dammit dammit dammit! I’m sick of it! Where the hell is he?!”

Jotaro slammed his fist down on the desk, his chest heaving in frustration. Why did this keep happening to him?! He just wanted to live a normal life, and he thought after Kira, he could. But like so many times before, Jotaro Kujo was wrong. Perhaps it was his destiny to be unfortunate. Perhaps there would always be another person stabbed by the arrow that would have it out for him and the others. Perhaps he was always destined to have a target on his back. Jotaro turned around to see you there, your form shaken from his sudden outburst. You’d never seen him that angry before. He met your gaze, unaware that you were sensing a vague presence of a being just above the man’s shoulder.

He sighed, walking over to you. “I’m sorry to scare you (y/n). I’m just getting frustrated by all this.”

You hesitated to speak for a moment, flinching when Jotaro placed his hand on your shoulder. You look up at him with a glare. “Tell what you haven’t been telling me.”

“You’ve been with me in Morioh this whole time (y/n). We both know the same things about this case I-”

You shoved Jotaro back, the surprised scientist bumping into his desk. “Don’t play dumb with me Jotaro! There’s something you’re not telling me! Do you think I’m an idiot?! Do you think I can’t handle it?! Tell me why you and a bunch of fucking kids have to be the ones taking down a killer?! Why can’t you just leave it to the police like a normal person?! Just say it! I… I can help you!”

But Jotaro couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand his world and the horrifying stands contained within it. He had to keep you safe. The moment you find out anything more will be the moment you die.

“No… I can’t tell you (y/n).”

“But that’s not fair I-”

“(y/n), I’m sorry, but if you ask me again, I’ll be forced to send you back home and have you fired from my lab. Try to understand me, I’m doing this for your own safety, but I can’t have you be near me if you don’t cooperate.”

You stood there in shock. Would he really do that? Didn’t he know how much working for him at the Foundation meant to you? How much care that you put in for him and his work? And he’d throw all that away just to protect some stupid secret!? Who did he think he was?!

Your whole body began to quiver in rage at the other’s behavior. Just when you thought there was something between the two of you, something more than just a young professor and his assistant, he makes it clear that you mean nothing to him, and you never have. You watched the man before you, turn away from your gaze to focus back to his work. With a huff, you reach for the door to leave, your hand touching the handle.

Then, it all went white.

Your hand touched the handle, feeling the metal scalding to the touch. Before you could flinch back and yelp at the pain, a hand circled around your neck and another crept around your waist, the grip keeping you flush against another body. You look around the room, watching the color and furniture dissolve from your view until all you could see for miles was a white void. The only thing you could feel was the man with a locked grip on your neck, blocking your airway. You kicked to set yourself free, until you felt a ghostly presence cling onto your legs to hold them together. That same feeling washed over your wrists to bind them as well. The man holding onto you within the void leaned down to bring his mouth to your ear.

“No human on Earth is unable to feel pain.”

Your whole body shuddered at the deep growl in his throat. “W-who are you?! What do you wan-”

“I’m the one talking (y/n)!”

With that, his hold on your neck tightened ever more. How could he have known your name? You all had made a point to only use names in private in case the murderer was lurking around. So that means… A pang of realization hit you. He’d been hiding in this hotel room, listening to you and Jotaro was however long. Black spots appeared before you in your line of sight, your head was feeling lighter and lighter. You were becoming weightless.

“In the split second that a human being first feels pain, that is when they are at their most isolated. At the first sign of pain, it’s every man for himself. When a man is shot, in the first moment he feels pain, he isn’t thinking of the man next to him that got shot in the brain. He’s thinking only of himself. The fight or flight response is activated, all other surroundings become useless. That selfishness, that hunger to be healed, that desire for self preservation, is what fuels Foreigner’s God, my stand!”

Your eyes shot open at the last word. “A...stand?” You choked out.

“My stand, Foreigner's God, extends that initial moment of selfishness that comes with pain. No longer are there distractions that can bring someone back to care for others. No longer are there healers that can take that pain away. Your hand is still burnt from the handle that I heated up, so…”

He turned you both around and you saw through your hazy view, a body appear in the white void. It was Jotaro, the man frantically calling out your name and rushing between his room and yours in a search for you. At one moment, the two of you even seemingly made eye contact, and you saw the absolute fear in his eyes at the realization that he might have just lost you. Your mouth quirked up in a smile, and tears began to form in your eyes.

Jotaro took a step closer, maintaining your gaze, and you felt relief in your heart that he could really see you. Until suddenly, he rushed to the night stand, fazing right through you and your assailant, not even noticing your presence in the room. You struggled to shout under the choking pressure as you saw him panic, reaching to the phone to call Josuke.

“Wait! Jotaro! I’m right here ah-”

“Didn’t I tell you (y/n)! At that critical moment of pain, it’s every man for himself! It’s just you and me in here! You’re in my world now, sweetheart. I allowed you to see Jotaro’s image, but he cannot see or hear you!”

The killer turned your head to the side, ready to snap. But he had to wait, for his stand would deactivate the moment you were killed, and then he’d be left vulnerable to a furious Jotaro in that hotel room. He needed information about his opponents’ abilities, and Jotaro was playing right into his hands by calling his friend.

“That’s it… That’s it Kujo! Call Josuke Higashikata! Call him! CALL HIM!”

You trembled under the rough grip, struggling to call out for Jotaro, hoping he wouldn’t call anyone and reveal any secrets.

And then amidst the silence, the click of Jotaro hanging up the phone filled your ears. You watched the look of reflection on his face. Somehow, maybe it was because of years of battle with monsters just like this man, but Jotaro Kujo realized that you hadn’t run away. Someone was keeping you from him. And he was now more alert than ever.

“Shit! He’s smarter than I thought! He must suspect there’s a stand attack going on.”

The murderer grumbled before dropping you to the ground. He couldn’t kill you, not without proper info on how to defeat Jotaro and the others. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt you. With a sharp kick to the back, the assailant managed to knock you away, breaking bones in your spine and leaving you immobile. Recalling his stand ability, the murderer managed to escape out a window without a trace, figuring you would lose consciousness. With a gentle thud, you toppled to the ground, right next to the open window.

“(y/n)!”

Jotaro rushed to the sound, seeing you lay there, gasping for breath. He turned to the open window seeing no one around. He had disappeared. And right under his nose too. How long had the man been in the room with them?! How dumb could he have been?! Reaching up to Jotaro, you muttered that the man had broken a few bones in your back and that you couldn’t move.

“I’m sorry Jotaro. I didn’t get a good look at his face…”

“Don’t worry about that! I’ll get help right away!”

You looked up with hazy eyes as Jotaro rushed to the phone to call Josuke. After everything between the two of you, after everything he’s said to you, it was surprising to see just how much he truly cared about you. Holding the phone to his ear, Jotaro frantically told Josuke your condition and for him to get over here as soon as possible. Glancing down at your arm, Jotaro’s eyes shot open at the black ink that painted your skin just a few centimeters beneath your wrist. In all caps, as if the murderer was playing with you all, the ink wrote,

“Foreigner’s God - AS.”

- - - - -

“Honestly Mr. Joestar, where does that grandson of yours get off running me and the others ragged like this? He sees one person with the initials A.S. in a phonebook and he sends me out across down to read them with Heaven’s Door.”

Rohan Kishibe sat drinking his tea, absently working on Pink Dark Boy, waiting for Jotaro’s next move. His companion, Joseph Joestar, took a sip of his drink at Rohan’s rude accusation.

“Hush now Rohan. We all put Jotaro in charge of his operation, given his connection to our main victim. All he’s doing is using your stand to its full capabilities.”

The old man raised an eyebrow and Rohan got the hint. Mr. Joestar was the only one of the group that the snarky artist fully respected, so he would follow the seasoned stand user’s lead.

A heavy set of footsteps entered the room, followed by a more uneven pair lingering behind. The two stand users looked up to see you and Jotaro enter. You were looking better since the attack. Josuke had healed your back of the broken bones, but the bruises and intense pain of walking remained. Moving with crutches, you slowly stepped out from behind Jotaro as the two of you entered the room. Jotaro, his face darkened in a mixture of unhealthy fatigue and intense bloodlust, approached Rohan’s table and slammed down a stack of papers.

“Names, addresses, ages, and criminal histories. All here. I want you done with it within the next two days.”

Rohan grumbled, standing up. “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that Jotaro. Not even a hello, not even an acknowledgment of your grandfather. He’s the only reason I’m letting you push me around like this you-”

Jotaro took one step closer to Rohan, staring the smaller man down in silence. A chill went down the artist’s spine. Shown plainly in the scientist’s eyes was a haze of dark intent, of evil desires. He wanted this person dead, and for them to suffer. Joseph flicked his gaze up at his grandson, recognizing the expression from the other’s climactic fight with DIO. A tinge of worry filled the old soul.

They needed to catch him, and catch him soon.

“Jotaro, come on. We told Josuke and the others we would give them an update soon.”

At the sound of your voice, raspy still from the attack, Jotaro’s face softened into its usual composure. He turned around to face you, and you gave him a tired smile.

“Right, let’s go. Rohan. Two days, please. I’m counting on you.”

Tipping his hat over his eyes, Jotaro held out an arm for you as you both walked to the rendez-vous point to meet with Josuke.

Rohan still felt lost in the other’s murderous expression. It had been three days since your run in with Foreigner’s God, and Heaven’s Door’s user was one of the first to arrive at the scene in order to search for clues. He remembered reading a page drawn from your unconscious body; you had blacked out soon after Jotaro made the call for help. Josuke was working on your spine, and there was a tense silence about the room. A silence soon interrupted by the crash of wood hitting the floor. Everyone looked up, seeing Jotaro standing deathly still in his spot, meanwhile Star Platinum had escaped and had thrown the table over and smashed it into the floor. The rampaging stand turned to the board and knocked it over with a fierce punch, wood scraps and documents flying everywhere.

“Hey Jotaro stop it! We need those!”

Josuke yelled, drawing out Crazy diamond to hold Star back. In his blinded rage, the stand took a mindless swing, punching Crazy Diamond in the jaw and sending both him and Josuke flying into the opposite wall.

“Josuke!”

Koichi and Okuyasu rushed to their friend. He wasn’t injured too badly, surprisingly no bones broken; nothing a bandage or two couldn’t fix. The four of them, the three teenagers and the artist all turned to Jotaro in shock, who by this point had absorbed Star Platinum into his being. Turning back to face them all, they all got a look at it.

The truly furious face of Jotaro Kujo.

The calm and collected scientist now wore the face of violence, a face he hadn’t worn since Egypt. His eyes shone bright with a horrifying lust for vengeance. Those eyes looked away from the frightened stand users, towards your unconscious body. Without a word, Jotaro left the room, and the others let out a shaky breath in the tense air. Those eyes. It had been three days and those eyes were still ever present. Rohan shook away his discomfort and waved goodbye to Mr. Joestar, understanding now.

Jotaro was not in this for justice. If Kira had hurt only you those months ago, Jotaro would have worn the same face. You were the key to Jotaro’s psyche and wellbeing. That was a fundamental truth about Jotaro Kujo. It was that day that Rohan Kishibe learned another fundamental truth.

Sometimes, the universe places an answer in your hands when you need an answer the most.

Half an hour later, it happened. It was in the middle of a secluded street, inhabited by only three people at that moment. A man. A woman. And the young artist, who had been so enraptured by his goal of locating the first name of his list that he barely had the time to react when it happened. And when it did, it only took an instant.

The man in front of him quickly drew out a pocket knife from his jacket, driving its blade into the woman’s shoulder, unaware Rohan was behind him seeing the act in its entirety. Before the woman had any time to scream in pain, the pair vanished into thin air before the artist’s very eyes, and into the man’s stand realm. Rohan held his breath, frightened at the pair’s sudden disappearance. A stand user. It must have been. Was this him? Reaching quickly into his bag, Rohan Kishibe phoned his first line of defense.

You had been sitting with Jotaro and all of the Morioh teenagers when Jotaro received his call from Rohan.

“What is it?”

“I found someone. It’s either him or another one Jotaro.”

Jotaro shot up from his chair, eyes blown out in stress. “Are you sure?! How do you know?!”

Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi all grew the same expression of fighting spirit on their faces and you were sure danger was ahead for you all.

Rohan tried to remain calm. “I’m not sure… Come over here with the others. We have a better chance of taking down whoever this is together. I’m by Owsen, two streets over…”

Inside Foreigner’s God’s realm, the man grabbed on tighter to the struggling woman’s neck as she gasped for air.

“Please, please don’t kill me! Please don’t k-kill me!”

But the man was hardly paying attention to her cries. He had brought a vision of Rohan into the void and was watching the artist’s movement’s while still strangling the woman as she writhed in pain.

He didn’t like what he was hearing. With a grunt, the man turned the woman around to face Rohan’s vision, his hand still tight around her neck.

She whimpered at the sudden motion, tears streaming down her face, meanwhile he stared boredly at Rohan talking on the phone with Jotaro and the others.

“Hey bitch, who is that?”

The woman just kept crying. “Please don’t kill me!”

Gritting his teeth, the man smacked her upside the head and tightened his grip around her neck. “Tell me who that is!”

Her vision hazy, the woman took a good look at the eccentrically dressed man. “I-I think th-that’s Rohan Kishibe. A famous manga artist…” She sputtered out.

The man’s eyes widened. Rohan Kishibe. He was at the scene of Kira’s death. Could he be another of them?

A fit of laughter took over him and he cackled, his jubilation mixing uncomfortably with the woman’s struggle for her life. Continuing to holler, the man dropped the woman to the ground and she remained there, coughing to catch her breath.

“Oh that’s great! I’ve heard he’s good too! You ever read any of his stuff?!”

She looked up at him confused, watching his face twist in excitement as he realized that he, a lowly stand user, was about to kill a man that helped take down the mighty Yoshikage Kira. Staring down at the ground, she shuddered at the sound of the maniac’s voice.

“Hey.”

A chill went down the woman’s spine. Suddenly, the man wasn’t laughing anymore. She turned her head to find a way to escape, seeing nothing but white everywhere. Why couldn’t anyone see what he was doing to her?! The man on the street with them, Rohan, why wasn’t he stepping in? It’s like they weren’t the real world at that moment.

“...I asked you a question.”

Tears filled her eyes again as she met his bored gaze. “W-what?”

Drawing closer to her weak form, and kneeling down on the ground, the man before her grabbed a fistful of her hair and she screamed at the sudden jerking pain.

“I’m asking if you’ve ever read any of his stuff!”

The woman felt a crushing pain in her chest, as if a mysterious force was stepping on her.

“N-no! I haven’t! But please don’t k-”

“Hmph.”

In a split second, the stand’s hands came around the woman’s neck and snapped it, and Foreigner’s God’s ability ceased. The man quickly his himself out of sight, seeing Rohan standing alone in the street.

Rohan turned around at the thud of a body hitting the ground behind him. He looked over to see the dead woman, her eyes blown out and a thick ring of bruises around her neck. Just like what you had gone through. And there it was, the same tag that had been on your body after your attack.

“Foreigner’s God. - AS. ”

Bringing his phone shakily to his ear, Rohan muttered, “It’s him Jotaro. He’s just killed someone else. Get over here now!”

Jotaro felt the same dark intent sweep over him as he heard Rohan speak those words. “Do you see him?”

“No. He hid himself somehow. He’s nearby I bet. Waiting to get me… Come soon. I’m hanging up.” With that, the artist turned his phone off, staying on guard for any attackers.

Jotaro hung up the phone call with Rohan and turned to the others to come with him. You stood up as well to head to the scene when you felt Jotaro’s hand roughly shove you down into your seat.

“No.” He ordered plainly.

“No?! You expect me to be useless again?! I’m the one he attacked first! I wanna see him go down and I wanna help do it!”

“I’m not having you go over there! You can’t get hurt again!”

You stared up at him, shocked at the concern plastered all over his face. But still, you were stubborn. That’s one of the things he loved about you.

“What about you?! What makes you sure you won’t get hurt?! Or even die Jotaro?!”

“I’d rather that than you die (y/n)! The world needs you more than it will ever need me! And I can’t watch someone I love get hurt right in front of me again!”

You stood there frozen, your legs feeling like they were about to give out at those word.

“...What?”

Jotaro felt a hand grip his shoulder, turning to see Josuke motion for him to get going. They needed to catch this guy. And fast. Giving a quick glance to your shaken form, he knew you understood why you needed to stay behind.

You did, of course, know him and his words better than anyone else on Earth.

Jotaro began running with the others towards the scene and when he was a few feet away, you heard Koichi ask your beloved lab partner if he had any idea what kind of stand they were dealing with.

Your mind flooded back to the words that man had spoken to you. A stand. That was the word he kept using. A stand. AS. Those were the initials of the man that nearly strangled you to death. Foreigner’s God. He said that was the name of his stand. A stand. Stand.

Your mind kept repeating that same word over and over again in your head as you stood there in the crowded Morioh street. All of these people. The people you had come to love. Josuke and the others. The strange lives they lived. Jotaro. The strange life he had drawn you into. They were all working to save the thousands of people that lived in this small Japanese town.

You thought back on all they had said, all that you had overheard over the course of the investigation. Things you didn’t understand now flooded your mind. They spoke about the first trip, the killer. Killer. A man named Kira. Killer Queen. Killer Queen must have been his stand. A stand. Is that why you think you’ve been going crazy? Are those third arms stands? ...Did Jotaro have one?

“Gimme… gimme… gimme… GIMME!”

Your whole form awoke from your deep train of thought at the sound of someone calling out to you. You turned around, looking at all the people that were walking nearby. No one was even looking at you. You sighed. You supposed this town really was driving you crazy. You reached for your crutches and took one step forward-

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!”

The loud voice rang violently in your head and you fell to your knees from the shock. Covering your ears, you foolishly tried to block out the sound. Your whole body began to feel weak, your whole being heating up. It felt like your blood was boiling, your muscles were tensing, an unwanted rage consuming every cell in your form.

“What’s going on?! What’s happening to m-”

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Who are you?! What’s going on?!” You thought to yourself, panicking. What was this voice?!

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Go away…” You muttered under your breath as you knelt on the pavement.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“Go away…” Your voice subconsciously raised, drawing others’ attention.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME!”

“GO AWAY!” You let a shrill yell, grabbing violently at your hair in terror, causing a crowd of people to form around you.

And then the voice stopped, a quiet renewing in your head. You sat there, gasping for air, your throat still burning from the attack days before, and your screaming had not helped it. You looked up at everyone staring up at you in shocked worry. In a calm daze, you stood up, grabbing your crutches and began to walk away from the others.

Jotaro. Jotaro would know what it means. What that voice was.

- - - - -

Arata Sone had been Yoshikage Kira’s only friend as long as the killer had been alive. He was the only person in the world that Kira confided in. He remembered the night he met the blond murderer. One evening, the normal man came home from a very late night at work to a silent home, his wife sleeping upstairs. With a heavy sigh, Sone was about to enter his bedroom when he heard his wife let out a sudden shriek, before the sound immediately ceased into a renewed silence. Panicked, the man swung the door open to find another man about his age, standing in the middle of the room, a dismembered hand in his grasp. The hand was dripping blood onto the carpet, and Sone’s wife was nowhere to be found. Putting two and two together, the man felt a chill slither up his whole body. He remained stuck in his spot as he watched the blond man draw closer to him. Then something strange happened. Arata Sone knew that he should be afraid, knew that he should be begging for his life, knew that the proper thing to do was flee. But what he did shocked both himself and the murderer before him.

Arata Sone laughed harder than he ever had before.

Cackling loudly to an unsettling degree, he even managed to throw the calm and collected Yoshikage Kira off guard. After several minutes, the laughter died down and the man looked at the other before him with a wide smile on his face.

“Thank you.”

For the first time in a long time, Kira felt a shudder rush through his body.

“Thank you?”

“I was waiting for a good moment to kill her myself.”

In that moment, both men felt one of the great pleasures of life, a pleasure that can only come from being shunned for one’s desires for so long, and then to finally have that desire recognized by another being. The two men called out their stands and both fell into fits of laughter and joy at their shared murderous trait. A new friendship had been born.

A few years later, Arata Sone saw on the news the gruesome image of his beloved friend’s face crushed beneath an ambulance. Seeing what he could only guess were other stand users at the scene, his ever present lust for murder grew within him to a boiling point. Foreigner’s God’s user made a promise to himself. To kill those who had killed his friend.

And today was the day to make that happen. The killer watched from his hiding spot as Jotaro and the others ran to the scene to see a very shaken Rohan Kishibe, who was wondering why the killer had yet to show himself. What none of them knew, was that their attacker had grown as a stand user. He was about to apply what his dear friend Kira had once taught him, and was merely hiding to get them all in one place.

Sone waited for the group to get within his stand’s range.

You slowly made your way on your crutches towards the scene. You needed to know these answers.

“Just a little farther…” He thought as he waited for Jotaro and the others to be within his grasp.

“Just a little farther…” You muttered to yourself as you turned the corner, two streets away from Owsen. An ominous feeling crept over you, making you feel sick to your stomach.

Finally, they were all together within his stand’s range. Arata Sone waited for the right moment, a sick smile on his face.

Jotaro went to speak. “Any sign of h-”

And then the attack was sent into motion. In that split second, each of Morioh’s fighters looked down to see a small mass of white matter form around their ankle. With the snap of his fingers, the matter exploded, taking a chunk off each person’s leg with it. Jotaro, Josuke, Koichi, Okuyasu and Rohan all collapsed to the ground as the street became consumed in a white void the moment they all felt that same sting of pain.

“No human on Earth is unable to feel pain.”

They all looked up from writhing in pain as the man they had been hunting down showed himself, the twisted smile on his face more present than before.

“When a man feels he is at his most cornered, that is often when the most opportunities arise for him. My st-”

In a flash, Jotaro lunged forward, landing a punch to Sone’s face. The smile went away.

“I suppose I’ll take your hand next.” He grunted, grabbing Jotaro’s arm and slamming his whole body to the ground. The moment his hand made contact with the ground, another white mass formed around Jotaro’s finger and exploded, and Star Platinum’s user once again hollered in pain.

“Jotaro!”

The other Morioh fighters called out to their injured friend and all of them got up to attack their enemy together. The moment they took another step, white matter formed once more around their feet and exploded again. The five of them were squirming on the ground in pain once again.

“As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, Jotaro Kujo. My stand feeds on that first moment of selfish pain and extends it, trapping others in a blank void without distraction from their pain. It’s a terrifying ability when used properly, though I will admit, back when I attacked your little friend, I wouldn’t have been able to take you all on at once, and that’s the only reason I spared her life…”

He looked down to see Jotaro’s face overcome with rage at your mention. It was a fruitless effort, but Jotaro lunged at his enemy again, only to be knocked on his back. The moment his body touched the ground, several bubbles of the same white substance engulfed the scientist’s back and exploded, leaving bleeding indents all over the tall man’s frame and causing him to gasp at the pain.

“But you see. I have grown as a stand user. You may remember from the tag on your beloved friend’s arm the words Foreigner’s God. Well that my friends, is the name of my stand. Or no… this is something different. A new ability that I’ve learned. A swan song to my dear friend, Yoshikage Kira!”

Their eyes shot open at the mention of that hardly forgotten name. “Kira?” Josuke muttered.

“Oh right… an old friend of mine. I figured when I would be taking revenge for his death, I would use some of that explosive power of his that I loved so much. You see everyone, normally I would only be able to keep one person at a time in my realm. You can only hurt some many in one instance after all!”

It was in that moment, Foreigner’s God revealed itself in its humanoid form right beside its user. Lunging forward, the stand attacked the stationary fighters, knocking them all to the ground. At the very second their bodies touched the ground, the same miniature explosions went off, extending their pain and keeping them in the dangerous realm.

“Gimme gimme gimme…”

You placed a hand against your ear trying to block out that annoying voice that was seemingly coming out of nowhere. You weren’t far from the scene, your mind still running wild, asking a thousand questions as to what a stand even was, what that voice just then was, who were the others really dealing with, what was this man capable of. You weren’t sure of what you would be able to do, but something within you drew your body closer and closer to the street where your friends were currently writhing in agony. You didn’t care about what Jotaro wasn’t telling you. You didn’t care that there were still questions that needed answered. You just wanted to help, anyway you could figure out how.

Staring down at their battered and bleeding bodies, Arata Sone let out another burst of jubilation amidst the void.

“I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of this before! If you haven’t already noticed, my once empty void has now been combined with its own type of landmines. You cannot move without a new one setting off, and extending that pain further. You’re going to be stuck in here until you bleed out, with no one to hear you or see you! That is it the secret to my new ability, Arsonist’s Lullaby!”

With that cry, the stand stormed through the five of them once more, knocking them to the ground once more, causing new land mines to set off, all to the tune of its user’s laugh-filled joy. It was then that white walls of the void were beginning to fade, and the scenery of that Morioh street was starting to fade back into view.

“Hmm… it appears this ability takes up more of my energy than I thought. I suppose I can’t kill all five of you at once and remain invisible at the same time. No matter, I can’t sense any other stand users around, just the six of us. I don’t care who sees this! I’ll just kill the witnesses after I kill you!”

It was then that Arata Sone made a fatal mistake, and just like his friend Yoshikage Kira, let his hubris take over. Removing the hiding nature of his stand, but doubling the landmines, the man watched as the five powerful stand users struggled to even get close enough to him to land in a hit. New landmines keep going off, new injuries created.

They were dangerously close to bleeding out, all in plain sight of another stand user. You.

You turned the corner to see the carnage ahead of you, finding your whole group in the enemy’s grasp. You couldn’t even tell what you were seeing. The moment one of your friends moved, they would immediately flinch back in agony. Drawing your attention to the man standing over them, a familiar chill went through you. That was the same man that had attacked you days before. And seeing what he was capable of doing to the people you had grown so close to, you were now more scared than ever of him.

But you noticed something. Amidst the pleasure that this monster was reveling in, there was a distinct look of concentration plastered all over his face. You watched his expression twitch with each time an attack went off on one of your friends. He must be doing something with his mind to attack them. He was focusing. His focus. You needed to capture his focus.

Steeling yourself for what was to come, you dropped your crutches and took a deep breath in, something in you knowing the dangers you were about to face, and the rest of you stupidly seeming not to care.

With a small ounce of bravery, you shouted at the top of your lungs. “Stop it! I won’t let you hurt them!”

Sone turned around at the sudden distraction, surprised that someone was taking notice. His eyebrow raised in intrigue. That could only mean one thing. You were another one.

Jotaro recognized that voice. No… no no no. Looking up, he saw your frightened body shaking and staring straight into the enemy’s eyes without a way to defend yourself.

“No! (y/n) get out of here! You can’t be here! He’ll kill-”

The killer turned back around and punched Jotaro straight in the gut with his stand, sending him flying back into a tree.

“Jotaro!”

You shrieked. All five of them were dying right in front of you, so close to bleeding out. And now his focus was on you, and it had taken all your courage to simply call out and distract him from the others. You watched as the man drew closer, ready to kill another. The same giant smile came over his face again.

“(y/n) huh? And here I thought you were a smart person. Smart enough not to beg for me to hurt you again. But sorry, there’s no escape this time!”

“(y/n) no! Run away! Get out of here!”

You didn’t have time to register whose voice had called out to you before you saw the attacker lunge right at you. You put your arms up over your face as your body collapsed to its knees, your eyes shut in fear, and a horrified scream uncontrollably left your lungs.

“Now die!”

And then, you felt weightless.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME”

As you felt a massive weight being lifted from your body, your eyes shot open to find someone new standing over you. Actually, you weren’t sure if it was someone new, or something new. This new thing, it didn’t seem real.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME”

Your face lit up in shock. Attached to this new thing was the same voice that you had been hearing in your head before. You watched as its fists fired off in a flurry of punches, all hitting their marks on the man’s body. You were mesmerized by its appearance. Its body, about the same size as yours, looked as if it were made of glass. Swirling around within that glass was a pool of different colors. Different blues, purples, oranges and pinks flowed together seamlessly, all encased within the glass structure as it pummeled the enemy before you.

“GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME… A MAN!”

With one last, hard punch to the enemy’s chest, the glass figure stopped its attack and turned around to face you. You shuffled back on the ground, your chest heaving in fear from what had just happened. The figure before you, without speaking a word, drew its arm forward to point at Sone, who was now frozen in his spot before you. Then, everyone watched as small ripples began to form over the man’s whole body. All over his arms, legs, and chest, it looks as if the flesh was moving, as if someone had dropped a pebble into a lake. Then the ripples began to glow brightly, the full spectrum of colors radiating out, and tearing their way from the inside of his body outward. The enemy let out a painful shriek as the searing pain overtook him, more and more light spilling out of his body as the flesh around it became torn and melted. Finally, less than a second later, an explosion of white light burst out of the man’s body. And once that flash was gone, so was he. Foreigner’s God had been defeated. And this thing that you could tell was a part of you, it had been the thing to kill him.

Shakily, you stood up, holding on tightly to your crutches, keeping your gaze on this figure that had erupted out of you.

“...ABBA?”

Still confused, all you knew was that something in your body told you to say that name. The figure turned around to face you and gave you a shy smile before coming closer and embracing your shaking form in a hug. Surprised you could even touch it, you wrapped your arms around ABBA as well, finding to your disbelief that the glass like material felt soft and warm to the touch. You looked down its back, eyeing the pattern of jagged lines all over its body, as well as the swirling colors within. You felt your eyes well up with tears. Something about holding onto this being, one not entirely separate from you, felt so right. It felt like it had been welling up inside you for so long, and you couldn’t help but love it now that it was out.

“A stand…” You muttered. It was all so clear now. Your stand.

After a few moments, ABBA stood up and nodded towards the group of your injured friends. Holding you up, both you and your stand rushed over to Josuke. The teenager’s eyes opened with a pained groan, looking up at you and seeing ABBA at your side. His face lit up in surprise and he tried to sit up before the crushing pain forced him back down onto the ground. He muttered weakly for you to see if Rohan was alright, and you did.

Suddenly, a small white figure burst out of the artist’s body and punched Josuke in the arm. You watched, intrigued as a section of the teen’s arm unfolded like a book. The white figure leaned in, writing in Josuke’s arm the words, “I currently do not have any injuries.”

You watched in awe as the bleeding wounds all over Josuke’s body slowly began to close. Within a few minutes, Josuke was up and mobile as ever. He had several questions to ask you, but first, he had some healing to do. You watched as a pink and blue being, you assumed Josuke’s stand, flew out of his body and hovered over all of the other injured, healing them nearly immediately. They all stood up, groaning from the shadows of pain still left behind from the attacks. One by one, each of them looked up at you, each of their faces growing an expression of surprise and adoration. You felt small under their gazes, looking up at your stand standing next to you. As small as you felt, there was something about ABBA that made you feel powerful. Especially considering what it had just done to defeat the enemy.

“(y/n)... is that your stand…?”

You looked over at Koichi before quickly nodding. “Yeah… I guess it must be right?”

You tried to shrug it off with a nervous laugh, but even you were still in awe of this new ability. Finally, you turned to Jotaro, watching his face for a reaction. The gentle giant stood frozen at a loss of words, unsure of what to say. His gaze turned to ABBA, a melancholy look of admiration and love spread over his features.

“Come on Jotaro… say something. Don’t worry. I’ll understand-”

You muttered softly before Jotaro rushed forward and cut you off with a tight hug. You rested your smaller body against him, tears of relief streaming down your face, grateful that everyone was still alive. You looked up to gaze into Jotaro’s blue eyes, seeing that he had begun to tear up as well. Then something caught your eye. Looking over the tall man’s shoulder, you saw a purple skinned spirit faze out of your partner’s body and float over to ABBA, starting deeply into your stand’s face. ABBA, who had before been so calm and collected, now shrunk back a little bit with a childish giggle at the sight of the handsome stand before her. As ABBA held her face in her hands, you felt your cheeks flush bright red. Your eyes widened and you pushed Jotaro away from you, turning to your stand.

“H-hey wait a minute! ABBA, it’s not like that!”

“Gimme?”

ABBA asked innocently as she grabbed Star Platinum’s hand tightly in her own. Jotaro now felt his face heat up and turn bright red. With a heavy sigh, he watched as his stand wrapped yours in its arms, chuckling a bit at your embarrassment.

“Sorry about all this. His name’s Star Platinum, and he’s definitely more… emotional than I am.”

Your eyes widened at what that could possibly mean. Wait… did they think that you and Jotaro were…

“W-wait it’s not like that! He and I are just… “

“Gimme?”

“No! W-well I mean I care about him but I-”

“(y/n).”

You turned around to face Jotaro as he calmly took his hat off, revealing the jet black hair that you loved seeing.

“I’m so glad you’re okay (y/n).”

Your heart swelled at his words and you slowly turned around to see ABBA and Star Platinum holding each other lovingly, a warmth erupting throughout your whole body at the sight. The feeling of Jotaro grabbing your hand caught your attention and met his gaze once more.

“He’s the personification of my thoughts and well… it seems like your stand, ABBA right? It seems like she’s the personification of yours.”

The two of you watched as your stands talk to one another in their own little language, each enamored by the other’s presence. You turned back to Jotaro, seeing that his face had drawn closer.

“Yeah… I guess... you’re… right.”

As you breathed out that last word, Jotaro closed the gap between the two of you, your lips connecting in a sweet, long awaited kiss. You wrapped your arms around the fellow scientist’s, and now fellow stand user’s, neck, giggling slightly as he lifted your body off the ground to hold you tightly in his arms. When you two broke for air, Jotaro quickly kissed you again, holding you up like his life depended on it.

When he finally set you down, Jotaro Kujo placed a hand to the side of your face and wiped away your tears. With a small laugh, he turned over to your stand.

“Hey ABBA, what took you so long huh?”

“...Gimme.” ABBA shrugged a little bit and pointed at you.

You smiled, wiping your tears away. “She said she wouldn’t appear until I was either ready for it, or I really needed her.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes at your stand. “Well you really waited for the exact moment that she needed you huh-Ow!”

Jotaro grumbled a bit as Star punched him in the arm, annoyed that his user was making fun of this new pretty stand. ABBA grinned mischievously before looking around at the rest of the group, and seeing all of the other stands.

A feeling of happiness swelled within the stand’s heart. Ever since you had pricked your finger on the arrow, for so long she had been growing, becoming more and more trapped within you. It had been lonely seeing you struggle without her help. It had been upsetting to see you not yet be ready for her to show herself. But now, eyeing all the others, Heaven’s Door, Echoes, the Hand, Crazy Diamond, and especially Star Platinum, ABBA really didn’t feel alone anymore. And seeing now how the other stand users of Morioh rushed over to hug you and vocalize their shock at you having a stand, ABBA could tell that you didn’t really feel alone anymore either. With a sigh of content, your stand fazed back into your body as you followed the rest of the group away from the scene and back to the hotel to get some much needed rest.

You leaned against Jotaro’s frame as he wrapped as a strong arm around you. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat everyone! Tonio’s, my treat!” He said with a bright smile.

Josuke and Okuyasu cheered, “and (y/n) can meet Tonio’s stand!”

You turned back to the teens in shock as you all walked ahead. “Tonio has a stand?!”

Koichi gave a firm nod. “Yeah. So does Hazamada.”

“That weird kid?!”

“My girlfriend Yukako too.”

“Damn… I had no idea…”

You all shared a laugh as you left to enjoy a well deserved victory, the sun setting over the beautiful town of Morioh, another dark force defeated by the town's newest savior.

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