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kitsunesakii · 3 years

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Experimenting, had fun writing this!

I wouldn't have it any other way:

"Great" I muttered, looking into the dingy hotel room, Onix pushing past me into the room. This day couldn't be any worse. Stupid hero agency. Most people would be happy to be in my position, I was stationed in a stake out with a local villain that was trying to prove that he had changed. A massive operation. My problem with it?

First of all I was only chosen because I was the most expendable since I was not only a sidekick, but I didn't have a drastic power. He was a telepath, and since I was an empath, I was the only one that could be sent in that could keep certain secrets about the agency. But that's not why they chose me. I wasn't considered a super hero, barley looked at as a sidekick. People laughed when they heard about me, a girl who could distort emotions? Stupid compared to someone who could move brick and stone, or shoot lightning. I was the one they sent when there was a possibility of death. The only upside was Onix, he was the reason why I accepted the mission. He could switch from playboy to gentlemen to evil in three seconds flat. And while I can hold my own, it was easy for him to make my heart melt. Which was only slightly annoying.

"Ah, we seem to have a problem"

I was pulled from my thoughts as his voice echoed through the small room. "Only one bed dearest" he cooed. I stared at the room's bed. It looked cute, with a baby blue blanket with white pillows. In the corner of the room was a comfy looking chair. I tried to force down the red that was growing on my face, letting out a nervous chuckle instead.

"I'll sleep on the chair" I stated, giving him a forced optimistic smile. This day was just getting better and better. He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms in front of his chest. Instead of watching him I pulled out my laptop and started hacking through the main frame of the building next door. I don't even know why they sent me, I'm no hacker, at least, not skilled like "Cypher" or her sidekick. And I was getting a headache, brought on by the lecture I had given before I was assigned this case. Don't forget that the only reason your here is because you are lucky enough to be able to force him out of your thoughts. It's the only thing your useful for. I grimaced at the memory, I wasn't really in the mood for being stepped on. And I was reaching my breaking point. Fast.

"I'll just sleep on a chair" he mocked, a playful smile dancing on his features. It had been a while since I had seen him. The last time was when I worked with an insufferable hero people called "bolt" he had been the only one that took me on and only because I didnt outshine him. We had been assigned with a bank robbery, Onix had been there, along with about three other people. He had gotten the upper hand, just my luck, taking me into a room for interrogation. The minute I figured out that he could read minds I had shut him out. Instinctively fogging all my thoughts.

That was the moment the agency realized I has some ounce of worth, Keeping the secrets safe. But Onix hadn't gotten angry, didn't hurt me, just stared at me in wonder, in awe, a sight I never got to see. It made my stomach turn in knots.

"Your gonna sleep on a chair, for 3 nights?" He sat on the edge of the bed, his teasing smile growing by the second.

"Yes" I deadpanned. The heat in my face steadily rising. I guess it wasn't all bad, he didn't look down on me like everyone else did, or at least he pretended. I couldn't know for sure because he also instinctively tuned me out of his subconscious.

"I know I'm irresistible to look at but I'm even more fun to sleep with" he hummed.

I dipped my head below the laptop screen. My face was burning, I wasn't used to someone speaking to me like that. And it was a bit annoying, it wasn't that I didn't enjoy it. it was that it could all be fake, and I was simply setting myself up for disappointment. I typed away at the computer, ignoreing his comments, it had been a while since I was asked to hack into something so complex, this was going to take me a while. I felt a hand drag down the length of my scalp, onto the base of my neck. I went rigid. "W-what"

"Shhhh, you get so tense, just relax"

He traced a finger lightly through my hair, sending ripples throughout my neck. The pleasure ripped through my back. That was enough.

I forced myself to stand, shaking free of his hold and moving to the other side of the room. "Don't, just don't" the surprise on his face was evident, as he also jumped to his feet, confusion seeping through his eyes. I felt the anger bubble under my skin.

"Everybody treats me like crap, and you come in here and pretend and I just have had enough!" I tried to breathe, tried to see reason, but I was so tired of it all. "I put up with it because I feel like I can maybe make a difference, and everyone looks down at me because I'm a bloody empath" I covered my face with my hands, feeling a hot tear make it's way down my cheek. "And you come in here, and treat me with pity" this shouldn't of been happening, I shouldn't of been here. My stupid emotions, his stupid good looking features. Two hand hit the sides of my shoulders, gently drawing circles on my skin. I wiped away the angry tear that had fallen, leaning into the touch, too tired to argue.

"Do you think I'm giving you the time of day out of pity?" His voice was a whisper, and it was straight into my ear, I stiffened. "Over this past week I've gotten to learn a lot about you, I learned your power, how your looked down apon. But mostly, I learned that when you put your mind to something you won't let anyone lead you astray." He moved a hand, placing it under my chin. Tilting it so our eyes met. "Your beauty comes from the determination coursing through your veins. Your kindness comes from experience. And you patience is one of your greatest virtues." He paused, his gaze burning through my eyes. A dangerous smile resting on his smooth face. "And, I also noticed, that when your around me, your thoughts do this thing. Almost like a low hum. Almost like," he lowered his voice to a purr "you get flustered around me, and dearest? You have no idea how hard it is to keep my hands off of you~"

with that he pressed his lips into mine, taking my breath away. His hands met my hair, and he combed through my scalp. Sending more shivers down my spine. I let the wall behind me support me, feeling all my strength leave with every small tug at my hair. One minute his lips were pressed against mine and the next they traveled down my cheek, riding the length of my neck. My breath hitched as his cool tongue grazed my exposed skin. He paused, moving back up to meet my gaze. I had held onto his shoulders, desperately trying to fight against gravity.

He smiled. Looking at my fire coated cheeks. Tracing the tip of his thumb against my lip. His other hand still hypnoticly playing with my hair. "If you really think I'm going to let you sleep on the chair, then you don't know me at all" he teased, once again closing the distance between us. Nibbling at my ear. I let out a tiny squeak, unsure at what I was reacting too since his other hand was running up and down the length of my back, each time going a little further, causing goosebumps to creep along my skin.

I moved my hands, gliding them down his shirt, feeling the grooves in his chest. My mind was hazy, all common sense and reason leaving me with every sigh. I didn't really know what to do, and he wasn't making it easier. Skillfully making every shift of his hands, every flick of his fingers, melt my brain more than the last. His lips met mine and I could taste the salt of his lips, feel the satisfaction rolling off of him. His hands moved down my front, rewarded with another small squeak from me, before slowly making his way to my hands, that were still absentmindedly tracing his chest. He held them in his, only then I was realizing how big his hands were compared to mine, suited with little cuts and bruises here and there. I breathed, taking a moment to pull his hands up to my face, studying them closely. Forcing my brain to stop spinning. He stayed quiet, watching me closely as I brought his knuckles to my lips, brushing against his hands, moving them to brace against my cheek.

"There so warm" I whispered, feeling him shape his palms to fit against my face. Still wearing the same smile that dug it's stare into my own. He stayed there a moment, his chest rising and falling quickly, sucking in a breath before settling his lips against mine once again. His hands moved, one taking residence behind my neck, and the other flew against my side. Making it's way to my hip, gingerly tracing circles over top of me, dragging his fingers slowly.

He pulled me fully off the wall, startled, I braced myself against him even more. using his neck as a way to keep myself up, stretching flush against him. His lips were still planted on mine, I wouldn't have it any other way, especially considering I couldn't bring myself to speak. Instead, he hummed into my gasps. Skillfully holding me, just enough to feel his own heartbeat thrumimg rhythmically to mine. He lifted both his hands back up to my shoulders, fiddling with the front of the T-shirt I had on. The fabric smooth under his fingers. He said something, but I didn't hear it, between my heart ringing through my ears and my own breathing, I couldn't bring myself enough to hear.

"Dearest? Did you hear me?" He didn't sound out of breath, making me jealous. I could barely speak. Instead, I shook my head, thanking God that I could at least have enough sense to do that. His smile only got wider, "I said, this is going to be a fun 3 days. "

#writing snippet #writing #villain x hero #hero x villain #romance #a little more than fluff

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owillofthewisps · 4 years

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beckoning light - part four

notes: in a classic writer move, i knew exactly what i wanted to do in this chapter and just couldn’t get it out of my head. in some ways this is the fic that takes the most out of me, because i can see it so well and i want to get it down as i see it. life, of course, rarely works that way. hopefully the next chapter will be faster!

anyway this is my thousandth post on this blog. it feels right that it’s beckoning light. and yes i may have stopped posting just so that could happen, i’m just like that.

rating: light mature? (just some dirty thoughts, really. some brief descriptions of wounds.)

pairing: geralt of rivia/fem reader

word count: 3.5k

part one ∙ part two ∙ part three

the wisps have never led you astray, but you hadn’t expected them to lead you to him.

The sun pools over you, a warm pond of golden light.

It warms the house despite the breeze stirring through your open shutters, a cool lick of wind that plays over your skin like a soft kiss. The forest breathes, the leaves fluttering with each exhale, sending the dappled sunlight dancing over the ground. You can hear the pulse of it, the forest song fading into a heartbeat as familiar as your own.

You hum to yourself. The gaps between the trees are still shaded, dark maws of space, the little saplings rising like teeth, sharp with growth. The forest will swallow you whole one day, you know.

There is the faintest hint of movement in that velvet night space between the trees, and your hands slow, the knife heavy in your grasp. Asha nudges you, calls you back, her blocky head solid against your hip. “Nuisance,” you tell her, but you trail your fingertips over the velvet slip of her ears. The grumble that leaves her resonates like a summer storm thick with thunder. She nudges you again, her nose smudging cold through the thin fabric of your shift.

“Nuisance,” you say again, but you are betrayed by the honeyed warmth of affection that lines your voice. She huffs and you relent. You slice off a small hunk of sausage, smeared greasy with slick fat, and give it to her. “Satisfied?”

Her tail thumps against the floor, a whip crack of noise, and she licks at your fingers before nosing at you once more.

“I suppose not,” you say. You bump her with your hip. “But that’s quite enough. Go on then.”

Asha grouses, a rumble of a sound, but she obeys. She pauses just long enough for you to lean down and press a kiss against the crown of her head.

You dip your fingers into a nearby bowl of water to rinse them before returning to your task. The breeze trickles in through the window, tugs at your sleeves with playful fingers, but your knife is steady as it slides through the rest of the sausage. You pluck a bundle of fresh thyme from your shelves and crush the delicate leaves beneath the flat of the knife. The woody, earthen smell of it wafts up, a forest all its own. You breathe it in, this hint of the wild, and feel Geralt’s eyes upon you.

You don’t think you have words for it, for the sunscorch of his amber eyes and how they’ve burned themselves into the marrow of your bones.

“Tell me, Witcher,” you say, “is breakfast so fascinating that you can’t look away? I know that food on the road leaves much to be desired, but this seems excessive.”

“It’s not breakfast that I’m looking at.”

You glance over your shoulder.

In the daylight, even ensconced in the cradle of your bed and your worn, rumpled blankets, Geralt brings to mind the statues that stood proud in the summer-scented courtyards of the marquess’s estate. The breadth of him is mesmerizing, the slope of his shoulders a mountain range of muscle.

Your gazes meet. Geralt’s eyes are tinder sparks, a flare of heat catching against the kindling of your desire, and the air thickens, goes syrupy at the edges. It’s the breath before a storm, the sultry promise of something on the horizon drawing near. You swallow. His golden eyes dip to the play of your throat, drag a trail of phantom touch across your skin.

He stops cleaning his sword, his grip tightening around his broadsword’s hilt - your piece of the bargain struck, a trade for him remaining abed until Hadrian arrives - and you shift. You think of how his fingers would press indents into the plump of your thigh as he pulls you to him, as he settles the heat of your slick cunt against the thick line of his cock. The kindling catches alight low in your belly.

Geralt inhales, his jaw sharpening as he grits his teeth.

The sun glistens against him, catches on the thin sheen of sweat on his chest, and you focus on the swath of bandages across his chest. Miniscule blossoms of dark crimson have sprouted in the cotton, tiny clusters of ruby flowers.There are not many of them, but they are there. It dampens the edges of the heat.

“Funny,” you say lightly, turning back to the cutting board, “because you look hungry.”

“I’ve no doubt you can sate my appetite.”

“Then I’d best finish making breakfast.”

Geralt grunts.

His eyes linger as you work. The pan nestled into the hearthfire spits as you drop the sausage into it, the thyme going crisp, the small leaves furling back onto themselves in a last bid of protection. Asha moves closer to the hearth, ever hopeful. You crack the dove eggs into the pan. She snuffles at the shells when you discard them, heaving a mournful sigh that has a smile flirting at your lips.

“Here,” you tell Geralt, handing him a plate piled high, “eat.”

You wave off his thanks. As is your habit, you clean while you eat, stepping around Asha’s massive frame as she trails after you forlornly.

“I feed you,” you tell her, ignoring the way her velvet ears perk up at the sound of your voice. “Stop acting as if I don’t.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see the faintest flicker of a smile on Geralt’s lips.

It is not long until you are taking back an empty plate from Geralt. The sun has risen higher, the shadows shifting as it treks across the deep blue of the late morning sky. It glints off of Geralt’s broadsword, and you take a moment to appreciate the way his forearm bunches as he glides the cleaning rag against the flat of his sword, his thick fingers deft.

You eye him meditatively. “I don’t suppose you’ll stay abed if I go tend the garden?”

He grunts.

“That’s not an answer,” you tell him, scooping up a basket. You should change, likely, but your chemise covers enough, and hearth has already spit soot-streaks onto it.

He keeps at his sword, keeps those long, rhythmic strokes.

You sigh. “Keep to the bed,” you tell him. “It will help with the pain, as I understand it.”

“Witchers are used to pain.”

“That doesn’t mean you should suffer it needlessly,” you say mildly. It is an assumption and overstep in the same breath, but you are not always kind enough nor wise enough to curb yourself. “Used to pain’ differs from ‘deserves pain’, and you do not deserve it, no matter what they tell you.”

His hands go still for a breath, his knuckles curving into hard peaks, whitening like snow-capped mountains.

“I do not know if you are punishing yourself,” you say, “but if you are, consider who you are doing it for.”

Before he can respond, you dart out the door with Asha romping wild at your heels.

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

“Careful,” you say absently, tugging up another ruby red radish and shaking the thick loam off of it. The soil is still laden with the morning dew’s touch, sweetly damp and cool. You let your fingers sink home, curl them into the soil like roots to anchor you in the earth. You pinch the radish stem between your fingers and tug. “There’s cow parsnip nearby, it’ll give you an awful rash.”

“I suppose I should be used to that.”

You raise a brow. “To having an awful rash?”

Jaskier makes a deeply offended noise. “That seems uncalled for!”

You laugh, sitting back on your heels. You wipe at the sweat on the side of your neck. The dirt smears there, but you leave it for now. “What else was I supposed to think?”

The bard sputters. “Not that!”

You pull up another few radishes, twisting their leafy greens through your fingers. “What should you be used to, then, Jaskier?”

He peers down at you, his cerulean eyes gleaming like the sea waves beneath the afternoon sun. “The way you knew I was coming. Geralt’s impossible to sneak up on, what with his Witcher nonsense, the enhanced senses and all. Doesn’t stop him from pretending he can’t hear me when I’m talking to him, though.”

“Oh,” you say, “I hadn’t realized you were trying to sneak up on me.”

“I wasn’t,” Jaskier says, “but you seemed far away.”

You smooth the dirt back into place, covering the small divots that used to house the radishes. There are more radishes nearby, but it won’t hurt to harvest them another day. “I was, but the trees told me you were coming.”

Jaskier eyes you, rolling a brass button between his deft fingers. He seems to be honoring the burgeoning season, his fine doublet the faded burnt orange of fallen autumn leaves. “Right,” he huffs, settling his hands on his hips. “Has anyone told you that you’re hard to read, woodwife? Your face, though pretty, is a mystery to me, and I cannot quite tell if you are serious.”

You bite down on your smile. “Oh, didn’t the villagers tell you about that, the trees and their gossip?”

“Well yes,” he says, pulling you to your feet when you hold out a hand. He braces you as you stumble. He’s broader than you thought, the cut of his clothes cloaking his apparent strength. “But they also told me that you feed the forest - wouldn’t say what, which is a bit unnerving, I’d be concerned about Geralt but he’s so thorny anything that eats him tends to spit him back out again - and that you’re part tree yourself, so you can see how it might get a little difficult to sort out.”

You scoop up your basket and tuck it into the crook of your hip. “Even if I could talk to trees, they wouldn’t have needed to tell me. You’re not quiet,” you say with a smile. “I think most would hear you coming. Is Hadrian inside?”

“Yes, he said something about how I should wait because of your hellbeast.”

“He exaggerates. She’s likely running through the woods anyway.”

“Having seen the size of your hound, I thought I should defer to his knowledge.”

You nudge the door open with your foot. “Understandable, I suppose,” you say. You duck inside the house and Jaskier follows.

You pay your three visitors little mind as you put away the garden’s harvest. It’s a meager one, but that’s not uncommon at this time, too early for most fall crops to be fully grown. And meager does not mean poor; the radishes are rotund little things, gleaming under the layer of dirt, and the carrots are full bodied and the color of a setting sun. You wipe the dirt from them as best you can and then tuck some away. You glance at the bed.

Hadrian is examining Geralt with careful fingers.

The Witcher is stoic, but there’s a hint of pain tucked into the corner of his lips. You are sure he can feel your eyes, but he keeps his amber gaze trained on the foot of the bed.

Hadrian moves with quick delicacy, checking at the whitening edges of the wound, where the skin is pulling tight with the promise of a thick scar. The very center of the gash is still wine red, deeply claret, the type of color that has teeth. You think again that none but a Witcher could have survived it. You know little of wounds, but you had known it was a terrible one as soon as you’d set eyes on it, and you have never seen something so perilous lose its relentless bite so quickly.

There’s a fragile intimacy to Hadrian’s probing fingers, and you glance away. You pull Jaskier - propped up on a small stool near the bed, plucking at his lute, his wide eyes darting between the strings and the river of stark stitches winding their way across Geralt’s torso - into some of your daily chores. He protests, but it’s half-hearted.

You’ve just bundled the linens into the laundry tub when Hadrian comes outside. You’ve left Jaskier chattering at Roach as he brushes her, the horse clearly delighted by his presence.

Hadrian kneels beside you, helps you push the fabric down into the water, the cloth fading into something ethereal as it dampens, diaphanous and eerie. He hisses at the heat of it, pulling back with a curse. You laugh quietly and knead at the linens, the steaming water lapping at your wrists like waves against a shoreline. You blot your hands dry against your shift once the linens are sodden and sit back on your heels.

“What’s this?” you ask, leaning over and tugging at the ribbon wound around Hadrian’s ponytail. It slips like silk through his hair. It’s a pretty little thing, carefully embroidered, little clusters of sunshine bright calendula blossoms and bundles of sage stitched into the smooth fabric. “Are you being courted, healer?”

He brushes you away with his long, delicate fingers. “Stop that, gnat,” he says.

“I’ll consider that a yes. What’s their name?”

Hadrian ignores you, reaching past you for the washing bat. He wipes away the thin layer of dust that’s accumulated from beating out the linens before slipping it into the tub, spinning the washing around in a slow, wide circle.

“The Witcher could ride,” he says after a moment, the click of the bat against the sides of the tub a steady beat that cuts through the forest’s song. “Not far, and the wound would likely open again, but if you wish it, he does not need to stay here.”

You hum quietly, watching the wisps of steam curl into the air to fade like smoke. “All of these years and yet you know me so little, it seems.”

He sighs. “I do not mean it as a slight,” he says. “I am only offering a choice that was not there before.”

“It is no choice.”

“I suspected as much.”

He hands you the laundry bat and pushes to his feet, his lanky frame unfolding like a fan, a graceful flick of lean muscle. “I’ve left a few tins of salve inside. The way he heals is far beyond my understanding, but it is still a terrible wound, and they cannot hurt.”

“Alright.”

Hadrian studies you for a moment, pierces through you with his slate gaze, the color of the winter sea, when the whitecaps have teeth. “The forest may betray you one day,” he says.

You watch the laundry water, the swirl of fabric spectral. “Perhaps,” you say. “But not yet.”

Hadrian sighs. The sound is a forlorn winter breeze ghosting through bare branches. “Try to wait until he’s healed to fuck him.”

You laugh, the sound swelling up from somewhere deep inside. “I’ll try.”

“Where’s Jaskier?” Hadrian asks.

“Talking to the horse last I saw him,” you say, getting to your feet. “Help me with this.”

Between the two of you, it’s easy to carry the washtub to the forest’s edge. It’s the briefest taste of the wild, moss creeping high on slim tree trunks, mushrooms opening like flowers where they are nestled into the curve of roots. The last of the summer wildflowers are struggling, going crisp at the edges. The forest has little mercy.

You switch the washing to your other tub, tuck the tallow soap and washboard in with the sodden fabric.

“Do you want me to stay until you’re back?” Hadrian asks.

“No,” you say, hefting the second washtub up onto your hip as Hadrian tilts the other on its side, the water rushing out like a river, sluicing through the undergrowth and winding along networks of roots. “You can if you’d like, though. Take that back to the house.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Hadrian lilts, “right away.”

You swat at him. “Please.”

“Better,” he says, hoisting the tub up. “Be safe, gnat.”

He trots back towards your house, the ribbon in his hair fluttering behind him like a ship’s sail. You watch him for a moment more, watch the way the sun catches on his charcoal hair.

The forest sings as you step into the treeline. You weave your way across the cobwebs of roots that puncture through the thick loam, moss gleaming wet on their outstretched limbs. Sleek saplings whisper in the wind, swaying like dancers. Something chitters in the undergrowth, the sound spiraling high in agitation, a warning in a language far beyond your tongue.

Sunlight cascades through gaps in the canopy, anoints the forest floor with a golden kiss. Small flowers are speckled through the undergrowth, their blossoms turned up in worship, little faces raised to the sun. You venture deeper into the forest, the ancient trees swelling above you. They creak and groan in the wind, sleeping giants tossing in their beds.

The hair at the nape of your neck is damp with sweat. You heft the washtub higher, ignoring the moan of your muscles. You can hear the stream now, the quiet burble of it, and know it will not be long.

The glen is a sumptuous one, teeming with greenery even as autumn sets in, the ferns fat with fronds, fed by the stream’s sweet water. You kneel at the stream’s edge and get to work.

You sing to yourself as you scrub at the washing, the stream a steadfast companion. The forest murmurs around you.

You slip into the stream once the washing is done, leaving your dirty shift on the bank. The water enfolds you with icy fingers. It’s a chill bite of sensation against your sweat-slick skin, something that edges on gnawing, but it fades into something kinder. You turn your face towards the canopy and let the water flow over you like a blessing.

Something crashes in the underbrush.

You duck low in the water, scanning the edges of the glen as the rustling grows louder. Your dagger is tucked beneath your shift on the shore.

The ferns whisper in the wind, and then there is something hurtling from the undergrowth, massive and lightning quick, and as it plummets into the stream, you spit out scream that’s half curse. Just as the water surges around it, you catch sight of a familiar brindled pattern, and then the hound is on you.

“You’re the worst,” you tell Asha, shoving water at her.

She snuffles happily, ducking her muzzle beneath the water.

“Fine,” you say, “we’re going home.” You wade to the shore and put on a damp chemise, shoving your dirty one under the washboard before piling the rest of the washing in. “C’mon,” you call.

Asha trots next to you as you wind your way back through the labyrinth of the woods, through the drape of moss and the scratch of the pricker bushes.

“Should we visit?” you ask her. She pants, nudging at you to get you around a sapling. “I saw it, thank you.”

The forest opens into the cozy meadow your home is tucked into. You can see the smoke wisping out from your chimney steadily, fading into the afternoon sky. The shutters are flung wide; one of them sways in the breeze, the hinges creaking. You consider your home for a moment, and then you put down the washtub and walk back into the forest.

It is a familiar path. You think you could walk it blindfolded, twisted roots and eroding soil and sprouting trees bedamned. The ferns thicken, their fronds trailing over you like fingers, catching at your hair. You push your way through them, duck beneath their overgrown greenery, and then - they fall away.

You step into the small meadow, a little ring of wildflowers and swaying tall grass with a small copse of trees in the center. The forest prowls along the edge of it with wild roots, waiting for an opening.

The trees are humming.

It’s a slow, soft sound, rippling through you like a lullaby. It draws you near, lures you close to the copse, to the twisted trees with their wrinkled, worn bark, their branches arcing high. The soil at their roots shifts, rises and falls as if they’re breathing.

You breathe with them.

They whisper to you, their leaves tracing across your cheek, across the back of your hand, fluttering over you like fingertips. The sunlight glistens against the silver sheen of their leaves, the light draping warm over you. Things go soft at the edges, like morning mist swathing the meadow when you first rise. You murmur to the trees.

The sun begins to dip in the sky, a steady downhill march. You rise from your bed of roots, skim your fingers against a hint of moss cushioning the rough scrape of bark.

You press a farewell kiss against the trunk, against the cheekbone curve of it, and the tree croons.

It is a long, lonely walk home.

taglist: @fairytale07 @whitewolfandthefox @inber @tutuwho @ambivertomnivore @raspberrydreamclouds @waitingtobeimpressed @imsoft-barnes @msgeorgiarae @ayamenimthiriel @rabenherz-blog @writingstudent @hina-chans-stuff @beautifuluniversityhoagieslime @bumblingandblooming @sageandberries-png @bucksgoat @alwayshave-faith @nonamejustshame @1950schick @riviawitch3r @yespolkadotkitty @restingnurseface @consultingdetextive @theunwantedomega

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine #story: beckoning light

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randombtsprincessa · 4 years

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Achilles Heart || 3

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (2nd POV) x Kim Taehyung | Other Characters

Chapters: Prologue 01 02

Warnings: Heavy angst, insecurity, mixed lines, micommunication but a sweet little smut scene to ease things up. Not too explicit this time,sorry.

A/N: There you go, a nice 7k whopper after so much time. This has been a long time coming. Taehyung doesn’t come up in this chapter but he’ll show up morein the chapters ahead. Also, I adore Yoongi.

Do leave some feedback please!

A Week Later

The sound and smell of coffee filtering, with the crinkles of sugar falling into it lit up your conscious. You had been staring hard at a mountain of papers that required your focus and you had been setting it out for later and later for days. Now, however, you needed to shut up, sit down and do some serious work.

Your workplace was situated in a day in day out building. You had bought out the place, refurbished it and set it up as your office. It had taken a better part of the three years after college but now, you were proud of the joint. You were proud of your work neighbors and while the few other colleagues that you did have in the event business mostly comprised of actual décor work, you weren’t complaining.

You loved the solace to plan and prepare. You enjoyed the lack of obstruction and could laze about the office with no one to tell you anything. Part of why you weren’t hiring an assistant.

Now, though, staring at the sheaf of papers, you wondered if you should start looking for someone appropriate. You hadn’t been completely truthful to Yoongi.

The event business rarely ever dried out. Your clientele was mostly the rich and the powerful, all of whom enjoyed having their luxury and money be flaunted. A nice bit of it went in your pocket and in return they didn’t have to worry about a single damn thing for their lavish parties, galas, balls and what not’s.

You had been especially busy the last week, seeing as your own…troubles had made your vision go astray. You had to staunchly remind yourself that you were a career woman first.

You had stepped into the office on a bright Monday, with your head straight and sat behind your office desk, turned the chair so you wouldn’t be tempted to look out the window and set to work.

You wrote a jam packed schedule out, dreading the way your body was going to hurt when you ended the day but it had somehow worked out. Nothing that a good soak wouldn’t cure…

Maybe you should book a spa day with a friend.

When you started arriving to the business places, it started a string of phone calls with questions, negotiations, offers, and you had to stretch out on the office couch with your head down – unable to keep sitting in one position for nearly four hours.

After calls, you had to check locations.

While you loved the cavernous halls, concert stadiums, and twirling about in the grassy plots, it was usually also filled with a lot of talk about maintenance, damage control, security, issues that might come up with a nasty guest, staffing. These were the times you remembered that anything that was that beautiful would usually come with a lot of work and worry.

Thankfully, your clients had more than enough money to skate over such matters.

More often than not, these events also needed you to show up, sometimes decked head to toe, looking like a star on a red carpet or understated for the more sober charity programs, offering your own support for the ones you saw doing halfway good in the world.

These events were also useful in securing your position in the world, making your current clients come back due to your stability and attract new ones. The mingling, the giggling, the smart conversations and importantly pretense that you knew what you were up to had helped you frame yourself and put you in the workings of the powerful and mighty.

You didn’t always love it, the strain of appearances taking a toll more often than not. But you knew you were important, and in this day and pace, you knew you needed it.

Of course, this week you had worked yourself to a thread. You came in early, went home at ridiculous hours and even then, you took your work back home, finishing and prepping because you had been slipping.

Slipping in your relationship, didn’t mean you had to fail what you had worked so hard for.

“I did it. I…released a statement, one that said I was not committed and single. I was going to have to someday and management was pressuring me way too much. Namjoon helped me do it today. It’ll probably be up in the news by tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s words flooded from his abused lips; the plumper lower one trembling as he fixed his eyes straight at you, hands drawing closer till he was fidgeting with his hemline. Not once did his eyes waver.

You stayed still, letting his words wash over you.

Sometime during his words, the glow of the afternoon party had worn off.

“Oh,” you mustered finally, turning away slowly, heading further into the house.

For once, you did not hear Jungkook call after you.

The house seemed to tunnel, throwing long shadows as you walked through it. You stopped near the door to slip off your shoes, curling and uncurling your toes. There was a slight coolness around the edges of your soles, most likely from where the watered grass had soaked into the shoes.

The kitchen light stayed on, noiseless but somehow the weight of his presence followed you around. You didn’t want to read too much into it.

He was probably just giving you space again. He knew sometimes you needed a minute or two to yourself to sort your thoughts out. It didn’t have to mean that he was scared or was hiding something more from you.

You had to be reading too much into it. You had already briefly wondered if maybe your harsh aloofness and jerky avoidances were the reason why he was acting so jittery.

Of course, now we know he was just stressing about telling you about the announcement.

Your arms felt robotic, going through the motions of unzipping the dress, letting it pool onto the floor around you. At a point, there had been times when Jungkook solely took responsibility of unzipping your dresses, simply because he loved the domestic intimacy of it. Now, he stayed in one part of the house, with you and your heart cornered in another.

You stepped into the shower, hot and pulsating upon your skin and all the while you could hear your heartbeats echo the drips of the water. You exhaled deeply, counting.

One…two…three…water washed down your back, flooding down the drain.

Four…five…six…the thuds that beat on your head and deafened your ears were merciful, blinding you and robbing away your thought processes from the onslaught of heat and relief.

Seven…eight…nine…he was a single man…no longer attached to you…

You shuddered, the number ten falling from your lips out loud and you close your eyes, resting your head against the fogged glass surface.

There was so much you wanted to do.

You wanted to scream, at yourself for putting you in this situation, at him for thinking it was okay to do so. And now that he had accepted your stupid proposal, what now? What was going to happen now?

You also wanted clarification. Did he mean it when he said that you could’ve forgotten everything about that one wretched date and moved on with no repercussions?

You didn’t know, maybe you just doubted it. You doubted it that you could’ve walked out of that restaurant after he had spit out his company’s demands at you, holding hands and giggling.

You knew you couldn’t have walked away that easily. Those demands would’ve come back sooner or later. Even if Jungkook handled it himself, he would have to succumb to those demands. Where would that have left you then?

Nowhere nice, you decided. It was going to end up on the negative either way.

Your hand shot out to shut off the shower, the ends of your hair allowing you a few more seconds of reprieve before you had to step out of the haze.

Drying off and getting dressed in a numb daze; you were met again with another decision. But you made that one in a hurry, not wanting it to weigh on your conscience as well.

The pink rabbit pajama set had been a joke, because ever since Jungkook and you had moved in together, you had only worn an old ratty t-shirt of his to bed, till the holes had become, well, indecent.

Wearing that set must’ve sent a message, you thought, because when Jungkook finally entered your bedroom, meek and folded into himself, something had clouded his eyebrow further but you only closed your eyes, mumbling out a goodnight that he may or may not have heard.

Jungkook changed in that same awful silence that had filled the apartment since you’d entered it.

You stayed turned on your side, eyes firmly closed but your hair stood on end, hyper aware of every movement he made. You knew when his shirt came off and he put on another one, you heard the light push and pull of the dresser drawer and then the sound of running water as he brushed his teeth.

Finally when he came to the bed, he hesitated for a split second before getting in and there was another pause.

Your eyes opened, wondering if he was going to try and pull you close to him again but he only sighed lightly, and then the light flicked off.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Your eyes stayed open for a good few hours of the night, dozing off when starlight faded from the window panes. There were only a few inches of space between the two sleeping bodies, but the fissures that had cracked and opened stretched as long as the silence.

You had been right in thinking that the news of Jungkook’s singleness would spread like wildfire.

When you opened your laptop the very next day, the first thing you were greeted with was a large picture of Jungkook, looking dazzling in an all black suit and with an intense look on that heartbreaking face splashed all over your news feed.

You took a moment to slide further into the couch, just looking at the picture.

It was taken at an up and coming red carpet, you remembered because you had went over the finalized arrangements, as part of your contract with Bighit as an event manager. You had went over the event with a fine toothed comb, a precision that had made many people nervous and work harder for the show to be perfect.

It was one of Jungkook’s first ever appearances, and he had been an absolute gem. The suit, fit him like a glove, emphasizing his assets and you had personally went over his hair, simply because you had had the means and opportunity.

It had been a fun conversation at home of course. The scalpel sharp focus that you had awarded this one show was enough to make Jungkook start joking about how you were biased and how other people would be jealous of how much attention he was getting. He’d tickled you on the couch and you had blurted out that he was right.

Of course, to him it seemed like you had just relented to get out of his hold but it wasn’t much of a lie.

You wanted Jungkook to be a success, you would’ve staked anything for him to hit it big. You had put your own job to use so he would shine like the star he was.

You had been grateful it worked. So, so grateful that you had gladly refuted various jobs just to accommodate Bighit. They were amazing ones too.

You sighed, removing your eyes from the picture that reminded you of when things had been simpler. Then you decided to scroll further, to cement what your boyfriend had already told you.

Idol Jungkook confirms ‘Single’ status

Among many rumors and gossip that has surrounded the world of entertainment; one that has been impenetrable was the relationship status of the young Mr. Jeon Jungkook. Known as the ‘Golden Child’ and protected fiercely by his company, he is one of Big hit’s priceless jewels, always popping up alone.

Rumors about the young idol started going haywire after his big break with the song ‘Begin’ and have continued to grow online. Is he gay? Does he have a secret girlfriend? All these questions then snowballed till it was rumored Mr. Jeon was married and had seven children.

However, Dispatch media had taken it upon themselves to uncover the secret life of Jungkook, to show the Idol in his full glory. Their idea is if he hasn’t got anything to hide, then why not come forward and say it.

Well, this just in, Bighit has launched an official response against Dispatch’s claims stating the Idol is very much single. According to the Idol himself, he feels right now, is the time to focus on his expanding career and build his brand name.

“I recognize that fans are curious and want to know more about me. Honestly, though, I’m really not interesting,” The Idol claims, to a flurry of laughter.

“I’m really concentrating on my work right now. So, I’m too busy to think much about anything in the relationship department. I don’t want to put a partner into that kind of situation where she has to keep waiting for me. Anyway, I’m not going to just get in any serious thing right now, right? I’m too young for that kind of commitment. This is the time for people at my age to date around, get to know more and exciting people.”

Well, the Idol seems to have his life planned. Who are we to stand in the way of such talent?

Stay tuned for more news!

Your eyes stopped at the last paragraph, reading through his words again and again.

“I’m not going to just get in any serious thing right now, right? I’m too young for that kind of commitment. This is the time for people at my age to date around, get to know more and exciting people.”

His own words, words that he had spoken out loud, to that damn press conference.

When had Dispatch put a trace on him? Why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t the company?

The only answer you could come up with was the company had started seeing you as a liability. You were being much more open when Jungkook had to be more careful; careful that a girlfriend would take away his fans, his reputation, and his clout.

So they put Jungkook in that position, they had asked him to choose between his relationship and his career.

And you knew what his answer had been…

You shook your head, closing out of that news article, refusing to put up with it. It was just a damn announcement. He was still there. He had agreed to your proposal, hadn’t he? He had done so to keep you. He had asked you to forget about what he’d said.

He had kept it from you…

You opened twitter, against your better judgment, but that was human nature wasn’t it? The need to dig and burrow into an injury because it provided a strange, a bitter catharsis; the need to validate yourself, not in your might, but in your flaws, it was human nature, a powerful one.

And you had never been one to fight impulse much…

Twitter was still somewhat safe, most of your follows were of work related accounts, you followed the entertainment sector of course, you knew them, were friends with them, worked with them but none of them were a good peek into the fandom culture.

So you searched. You put down the necessary keywords and began to drive the proverbial knife into your chest.

Well, that’s a relief. Boy needs to play the field.

Bullshit, he probably has a girl stashed somewhere.

No need to lie sweetie, we see the way you look at Kim Namjoon.

I think it’s shitty that Dispatch put him on the spot like that. He’s just a kid; he doesn’t owe you hoes anything.

Some people don’t care about talent, just gossip.

Imagine him coming up and saying he’s dating some bitch loll

I’m glad he has sense; any girl who dates him would only be doing it for the fame and money

You delusional fans, he’s never going to date you so shut up

How long do you think before Dispatch releases proof that he’s got a chick?

Dispatch sucks anyway

Jungkook can’t possibly be with anyone seriously. It would just be a fling.

I think it’s better he dates idols anyway, he deserved the world

Well, not all of it was bad…but not all of it was nice.

You knew the hazards that came with being Jungkook’s girlfriend. If anything both he and you actively tried to keep your feeds free of the negativity but Jungkook was young, and gorgeous. It was obvious many fans would lose their attraction to his talent if his appeal was compromised in anyway.

You glanced at a few of the comments again before shutting the laptop completely.

You had expected to work, but now nothing seemed to pass through the cloud of cold hopelessness that had seeped within you. Something told you Jungkook wouldn’t be too happy if he realized you had gone sniffing through tabloids and let yourself get this way but you had no choice.

You had no one to go to now. You couldn’t talk to Jungkook about this if all he was going to do was pepper you with adoring reassurances and promise to fix things when they were already getting out of hand.

You went back to your brazen dates outside, where you’d spent more money on keeping the staff quiet than on the meal, simply to enjoy a date like a normal couple.

It was crushing, the feeling of powerlessness. You could do nothing against it; in fact you’d helped to chip away at your own relationship.

But you would be damned if you let them win. If Jungkook didn’t outright want to leave you, no one could make him.

You cracked your knuckles, steeling yourself. You had to keep fighting, no matter what they threw at you.

Only question was; was Jungkook as willing as you?

The wood of your foyer was cool when you undid your shoes, slipping them neatly into their rightful places in the shoe cabinet. Slinging it shut, you picked up your bags of itineraries, printed schedules, location brochures and other paperwork dealing with your trade. You were relieved that you had invested in a heavy gurney bag, aside from the environmental healthy proceedings, you were sure that a simple plastic or paper bag would’ve ripped easily under such weight.

You had had to drop the bags twice in the elevator and to the way to your car, but you finally managed to lug it till the living room armchair before giving up, heaving a tired if not burdened sigh.

Yet another batch of work to do, yet another week to not have to think about anything but who was celebrating what, why, where and when…

You dropped into the armchair, almost at the brink of chuckling at your current state.

You used to be an individual of philosophies to balance work and personal life. No business interfered when you were taking you time and vice versa but now, it seemed like your personal life had been reduced to a void. Work had taken over you completely yet you weren’t regretful.

Home used to be something that you enjoyed, but now being here only made that strange crushing weight crash down on you, squeezing your lungs till you couldn’t breathe. You were drowning in helplessness and working to an end, at least gave you the illusion that you still held power in some aspect of your life.

“Y/N?”

You looked up, somewhat blearily. The film of haze that covered your eyes blurred the figure standing in the hallway of the apartment and you blinked rapidly clearing your line of sight.

Jungkook stood there, an apron tied to his front, a metal spoon in his hand as he looked back at you, curious.

“Hi,” you mumbled.

“Are you ok?”

You nodded, sitting up and rubbing at your eyes with the base of your palms. The sudden appearance of Jungkook had set you upright, a defense mechanism to protect against any form of shock that could be thrown at you.

“What are you doing here?”

The question came out harsher than you meant for it to be. You had only meant to ask why he wasn’t at the studio but it sounded as if you didn’t want him in your home and by the flinch you saw cross his face, bravely covered by the twitch of his nose, you knew he had taken it as an accusation.

“You’ve been coming home late every day, Y/N. I got worried so I came to check on you.” Jungkook approached slowly, as if cautious of your reaction to his proximity. Gently, he lifted the metal spoon, “I even made you some dinner. We can eat…together.” He offered.

You looked from the utensil then back to him. Those big doe eyes of his were colored in hope, glittering brown almost melting at you to indulge him. It was your weakness, and the beaming smile that lit up his face when you nodded in adherence was enough to make you falter in your icy composure.

Jeon Jungkook was entirely your weakness and no matter how cold you held yourself, every nuanced action, thawed it out. Nothing, however, could evaporate that dark abyss of despair, though. Not with him so close, not when you knew he knew that he was young, gorgeous…that he needed to play the field.

So you ate with him, in silence. He insisted to serve you at the kitchen table, setting out plates of fried rice and grilled meat that was his specialty. You internally keened at the glazed sauce he stripped the protein in, but a thin smile was all that slipped out, eyes downcast even as Jungkook made an overly elaborate show of bending over to check your expression.

He seemed mollified by the show of emotion because he resumed his place in front of you, lifting his spoon.

“So, tell me all about your work. You’ve been spending so much time back at the office; it must be something big right? I was starting to feel that I should just move in there with you.”

You paused in your motion of spooning rice into your mouth.

In the past year when you had cemented this relationship and all of the months before that had gone into the both of you courting each other, the point of moving in together had only ever been brought up as a joke. Of course, he spent almost all his time here, rarely ever going back to his – admittedly much more luxurious home. There had only been a handful of times when you and he had not gone to bed together. One of them had been when he was giving you ‘space’ after that one date.

You knew that eventually you would have to move in together fully. Your own place was no joke, it was a pretty shiny expenditure on your part and he had contributed more in this place than he had stepped foot in his own home but now…

Well, now you were barely making week’s string together to last through this painful phase of your relationship. All your hopes, as to a future…they were gone. They had disappeared the moment you had slid the piece of paper written with your rules over to Jungkook.

It was so easy for him to bring up that joke, while you were sinking, while you could no longer taste the dinner he had so obviously cooked for you.

You stared down at the decorated plate. He had actually brought out the nice dinner plates for this dinner.

“Beautiful?”

You looked back up at the man opposite to you, the pet name so easy to fall from his lips, so familiar for you to react to as if it were your own name.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I…I, don’t feel so good. I don’t think I can eat.”

Jungkook stopped mid-bite. His eyes flashed to the plateful of food that you had only just made a dent in. “You haven’t eaten even a single bite. What’s wrong? Do you need a doctor?” He made to stand but you had already gotten to your feet, carrying away the plate to cover it and put into the fridge.

“No, I don’t. It’s probably the late hours. I think I just need to take it easy.”

Jungkook looked at you as if he was trying to peek through to your soul, trying to unravel what was actually wrong with you. “Um,” he looked at his own plate. “Fine, how about we…watch the TV a bit? I’m done eating anyway.”

“No, Jungkook, you should finish.” You immediately began and thankfully, Jungkook listened. He lifted up his plate, quietly following you to the living room where you quickly deposited yourself in the armchair. Jungkook didn’t seem to process the move, as he sat back on the couch, eating as you flicked through the channels.

When he was done, he tried to make conversation, picking up where you’d left off – on your work.

You muttered about the places, about the people, about the calls when you noticed his eyes drift from you to the TV. You slowed in your tirade, stopping abruptly.

There it was again, that feeling of breathlessness again. Tears threatened at the back of your eye, but you weren’t crying, it was mostly a reflex.

What you were saying wasn’t interesting. You weren’t interesting. He should be dating people like him, people that garnered his attention and held it because he was passionate about what was being discussed.

The people on twitter had been right after all.

You swallowed loudly.

“Babe, you were saying?” Jungkook called suddenly; making you jump, turn to him in surprise.

“What?”

“You were saying you had to make some calls but then you stopped.” He grinned teasingly. “The movie’s not even that interesting. I’m not holding your attention tonight?”

You mouthed unheard words, wide-eyed and not answering.

Your own thoughts, turned at you, fickle and mocking, but with none of the gravity that threatened to sweep you down with it.

“I…” you stuttered, catching Jungkook’s grin flicker, eyebrow creasing. “That’s it. Your turn now; what are you working on?”

Jungkook hesitated. “Nothing really special,” he said offhandedly.

You stared at him for a while, his gaze still confused and concerned. You couldn’t find it in yourself to soothe him though. So you did what you did best.

“I’m going to get to bed now. I’ve to be at work early.”

Late at night, when Jungkook joined you after cleaning up, you felt him press up against you, despite you trying your level best to appear asleep.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You only took an exaggerated inhale.

It wasn’t usually that your best friend would leave the sanctity of his recording house and grace your office with his presence and the alluring scent of your favorite Chinese takeout.

“I didn’t know if I should get burgers and fries and those huge shakes you love or not. Figured Chinese was the best deal,” He grunted in the face of your shit eating grin.

“Aw, Yoongles just admit it. You missed me.” You cooed at him, his ears burning red even as he scoffed back at you, placing the food containers neatly at your desk and taking a seat.

“I didn’t miss you, you big pain in my butt.” He watched you as he flicked the container of his steamed dumplings open, grabbing for chopsticks. “I was just checking up on you.”

“Checking up on me,” You laughed. “What for, I’m fine.”

Yoongi hummed, digging into the cardboard box. You eyed him, reaching for some of the chowmein and waiting. Yoongi, being a man of few words himself, knew when to wait people out. He had been using that same method for years now and you had become adept as keeping yourself away from his sly tricks.

So when he finally let out an irritated exhale, you had to muffle a snicker.

“Y/N,” he snapped before his eyes softened, “I saw the article.” He said, slowly, inching towards the subject as if you were going to jump across the table and throttle him.

You prided yourself on your poker face, even thought you had never once won a game, having never bothered to actually learn the game. “What article?”

“You know which article.”

It was official, even as you pretended to be struggling with your chopsticks. “Oh, that one,” you shrugged. “Me too,”

Yoongi lowered the dumpling from his mouth.

“And you’re still fine then,”

Another shrug from you, “What were you expecting? The article wasn’t a shock, given Jungkook’s status. Besides the photo they picked was good, right?”

Your best friend nodded. “It was indeed, I remember it being one of yours.”

You nodded, still looking into your food. “Yep, one of my best ones too,”

Yoongi huffed. “He should’ve been more considerate.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment. “Come on, Yoongi, you and I both know that he had nothing to do with the editing process.”

“Y/N, in an ideal situation, he would have nothing to do with any of this at all.” Yoongi picked up the dumpling again, going quiet. “You have a choice in the matter too, you know.” He said quietly.

You stopped fiddling with the food, simply staring at the noodles. Each long strand of deliciously glazed strand, curling around diced veggies and meat and pepper.

“Maybe, but I really, really, don’t see a way out of this right now.”

“Well, you’re never going to feel otherwise if you keep bottling shit in.” Yoongi placed at the container on the table and got to his feet, rounding the table to you. He grabbed your food and put it on the table as well, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

If anyone had swung by, they’d think you were getting scolded from the frown on his face.

“Have you even talked to him about it? Has he asked or talked about it with you?”

You sighed, rubbing at your eyes again. “No, I don’t think he even knows I’ve read it. He was…so sweet, Yoongi. He is actually trying and…I’m just making things worse.”

“Y/N, at a point when you two should’ve announced your relationship to the world, or maybe kept it hidden still, no one cares, you let him go about announcing he was single. Hell, you basically cut him loose! If anything, he should be making this effort if he wants to keep you.” Yoongi told you severely.

You looked away.

“Y/N, communication works both ways.”

You finally looked at him, meeting his eyes head on to see sympathy, concern but most importantly solidarity in them. You smiled, nodding.

“I’ll talk to him. I promise.”

You went home early that evening. It was odd, after having put in a new schedule, going back to the old one but you did. You put your work papers neatly into their correct drawers and folders. You set out a schedule for the next day, logged out of your computer and after a glance around, locked your office and left, only your purse in hand.

The apartment was empty when you got home, thankfully. The last time you’d been there hoping to put in some effort for Jungkook, he’d thrown you with some shock but you were going to not think about that, decidedly. After all, you had promised Yoongi you would talk to Jungkook and even if you hadn’t…

Well, you knew this was coming, didn’t you?

Just because you’d shaken some rules in his face didn’t mean you both would magically know how to navigate through this maze life had dropped you into. No, this was necessary and after the way you’d behaved when he’d tried to make some attempts at rekindling, you knew this was long overdue.

So, the moment you were in and your shoes were off, you changed into something comfy and began serious work in the kitchen.

You roasted some potatoes and baked the chicken you’d purchased on your way home. Squeezing lemons and frying greens into the skillets, you tasted and seasoned, hoping that the taste would add to the apology you were going to make.

To say that you were overly nervous when you’d finally set out the food on the coffee table in front of the TV and heard the door unlock with his keys, then his boots padding onto the wooden foyer was an understatement.

You paused, listening as he stopped there, the rummaging with the cabinet before he appeared, a tongue poking in his cheek, looking around. He didn’t spot you first thing, and you watched on fondly as he popped his tongue out and then yawned, scratching a hand through his thick dark head.

He turned then and you froze like a deer in headlight.

For his part, Jungkook handled his reaction superbly.

His eyes widened at first, eyelashes fluttering as he took in the appearance of you in home clothes and the carefully arranged food on the table. Then he swallowed twice and let out a wide smile.

“Baby, you’re home.” He walked over, taking a deep whiff of the steaming food platters before he was wrapping his arms around you, naturally, instinctively. “This smells great.”

In the not so distant past, this normal act would’ve set you off, bringing up questions and insecurities and while something still nagged, you quelled it fiercely, basking in his embrace as he bent to take a sniff at your hair. “Mm, you smell better.”

You laughed, pushing him away unsuccessfully. “I haven’t even taken a shower. I just changed and started cooking.”

“Yeah but,” another sniff, “you smell like my favorite cheese.”

“Ok, that’s just gross.”

“Not at all, I’m just…cheesy.” Jungkook dropped an exaggerated wink on you and you huffed, managing to wiggle away.

“Let’s just eat before it gets cold.” You said, dishing out copious amounts of the chicken and potatoes onto the same plates he’d used – the extra fancy ones.

It was quiet in the room, the only sounds comprising of clattering spoons and low sounds of chewing, the ones that indicate that the food is scrumptious.

“Well,” Jungkook grinned hugely, after the plates had been washed and dried, after the leftovers were wrapped and put away. “That was an amazing dinner. I missed this.”

The last part was said in a much lower tone but you caught it anyway, a fresh new wave of guilt coming down on you, along with the reminder of the promise you’d made to Yoongi.

“Jungkook,” you called and he stopped, turning around to you, a smile still lingering on his pretty lips.

You leaned against the island you were clearing, palms flat on the tile. “I came back early today, because…um, I – I know I’ve been kind of…out of it, lately. I haven’t been giving you much time and when we were together, I was really…I just want to say sorry.” You mumbled out, making yourself meet his eye.

Jungkook’s smile softened, a frown joining it. “Baby, that’s fine. I know you’ve been busy this week. I saw those huge files.”

“No, that’s just it. I wasn’t that busy. All the paper you saw, I could’ve easily dealt with back at the office. I just…I kept bringing back work that I had already finished. I told myself it was because I wanted to review them so everything would be perfect but…it’s just, I guess all I was doing was hiding.”

Jungkook had moved closer to the island as you spoke. “Hiding…from what exactly…?” He prompted.

You just gave him a look. “I think you know. Jog your mind a bit.” You said.

It was gold, watching his pupils shake, contemplating the various things that would’ve resulted into you pulling away. You could literally see the moment a light bulb went off.

“The article; you found it…you read It.” he said softly, eyes still distant in realization. “Wait,” his eyes snapped in focus. “Why didn’t you tell me you read it?”

You snickered. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“No, but - so, that’s why you were ‘hiding’? You were all withdrawn and shit because of that one hyperlink page of bad journalism?”

You straightened when his voice started to rise. “Why are you getting worked up? You spoke in that reporting didn’t you? How did you think that I wasn’t going to find it? Did you expect me to roll my eyes and leave it unread?”

“I…I guess I was hoping that you would come discuss it with me.”

“Discuss – discuss what exactly, the article was pretty all-inclusive.” You snapped finally. You could still see them, the words, cutting through you now just as they had been emblazoned in your head ever still you’d roved your eyes over them.

“Exactly – Y/N – that report…that interview, it was all closely watched, it was scripted, that dude who took it had his questions edited by my manager. Namjoon Hyung was with me all the time, to see that that the man doesn’t try to slip in anymore questions. He had to ask what we told him, just as much as I had to say what I was told.”

Jungkook sighed. “That is exactly why I was hoping you would come to me. I had to say some…pretty shitty things in that interview. It was disrespectful to you and our relationship. I hated saying those things, I even told Namjoon,”

“Not that he would stop anything like this from happening,” you muttered.

“Y/N,” Jungkook stressed, he walked around the corner to stand in front of you, too close that you couldn’t look anywhere else.

“You know it hurts me too, as much as it hurts you – maybe more, but I can’t do anything about it. You sacrificed something from our relationship and if I just act like a coward and back out now…it’s all for nothing.”

Back out now…back out now from being for all intents and purposes, single? So, he deemed it cowardly to get back into a proper exclusive relationship with you all for the sake of you ‘sacrificing something’.

You looked into his eyes again, and he broke off. You could tell he was comparing right now to that date, just as he had seemingly discussed his future that wouldn’t have you, with you brazenly, he thought he was being pacifying.

He would leave. He would leave and think that it was noble of him.

And you would be alone…

“I don’t want to think about that.” You said out loud and Jungkook responded, slowly taking your hands in his.

“I love you, Y/N. I do.” He swore and this time you didn’t have to look into his eyes to know that he was being sincere.

“Then show me,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Show me,” you said, louder, “please.”

Jungkook left no room for hesitation. He took time to drop your hands, instead wrapping his arms around your waist, drawing you closer to him. He felt solid against you, permanent, comforting. You reached up to entwine your fingers through the strands of his hair, drawing further in, the heat of his breath tantalizing when he kissed you, slow and deep.

It was all encompassing, his touch. Even though his hands remained tight to your hips, you could feel him everywhere. He coaxed your mouth open, his hands now cupping your face. It was like he was putting his all into this one kiss; as if he was showing exactly what you meant to him.

And you soaked it up; each brush of his fingers, every squeeze of his grip and the small pops when your lips pulled and pushed against each other.

Jungkook angled your head back, gaining access as he nibbled over your jawbone, moving across your throat and then latching onto the collarbones, working the skin.

His name slipped out of you, eyes unfocused even as he looked up to you, asking for the next direction. This was about showing that he was all for you and you appreciated it.

“Bedroom,” you mumbled, knowing if Jungkook could, he would have no problems taking you right here in the kitchen. But you wanted this to be intimate; you wanted him on top of you, driving out your insecurities.

Jungkook complied; bending down to easily lift you up into his arms. His steps were quick, almost like he couldn’t wait and you didn’t blame him. It had had been a bit too long.

You were dropped almost unceremoniously onto the mattress, the material bobbing under your weight as you moved back to the headboard, Jungkook following on his hands and knees.

He took your lips again, pressing a hard, deep kiss on them, his tongue mingling with yours in a very familiar dance, one that you both enjoyed participating in. It was a prologue to where his hands would wander, lifting the ratty home clothes you’d donned, tossing them to the floor. Your hands would follow, mirroring his actions.

Very soon Jungkook was naked and warm, on top of you, his mouth, and hands, everywhere. They sent a tingle from your hairline to the tips of your toes, curling them around his calves. You could feel his arousal against your hip, already hard.

He was taking care to not move much, saving the friction, maybe even drawing out the pleasure by torturing himself. But this wasn’t about the torture; it was about the both of you taking comfort from your physical connection. So you reached down, circling his length even as your boyfriend was blissfully unaware, content with kissing you breathless.

The first touch of your hand against his member made his jerk over you, breaking the kiss away to look at you with wide eyes.

“I don’t want you to hold back, baby. Don’t hold anything back.” You explained, his eyes falling at the soothing tone of your voice, lips tucked between his teeth as he rocked with your hands – fucking into your hand in pace.

He was gorgeous, you thought. The way his face scrunched just so, lips flushing from the abuse of his two front teeth, the big nose twitching slightly and the soft lines of his forehead that deepened only when he scowled. Your other hand traced said features, trailing them down his chest.

Jungkook shifted, a hand going to part your legs further to accommodate his body better. He tugged your hand away, lifting it over your head and pinning it by the wrist.

“You want me to show you how much I love you beautiful?” He asked, curling one leg to trap your ankle in place, leaving you no space to wiggle away. He cupped a breast, lowering his head to suckle at a peaking nipple. A hand trailed down your side, stroking through your folds, tapping at the clit.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“How,” the fingers pressed into your entrance, distracting you easily even as your hips moved to slip his fingers in. “How, baby, tell me how?” Jungkook insisted.

“Want you, please,”

One and then two fingers dipped into you, curling and uncurling into your spot as he went, grinning as the sudden jolt had your nipple falling from his mouth.

He loved this, you knew. He loved playing, and you would’ve complained when he pulled away from your pussy but the sight of him engulfing his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth more than made up for it.

You loved watching him enjoy you more.

Jungkook was holding his cock now, running the swollen head through your glistening folds. His eyes focused on your frame as he pushed in, slow and precise to that one area that had you staring at stars.

He relished the way your body arched for him, prompting him to wrap an arm under you, holding you up at the angle. One elbow supported his weight and he nuzzled into your neck, his lips finding place at your ears.

Each drive of his hips into yours was accompanied with an ‘I love you’ grunted deep where only you could hear him, his presence surrounding you as you held him to you, your nails leaving crescents on his back.

He fucked you through your orgasm, maintaining the deep but slow pace, only quickening when he was reaching his own end. He pulled his arm from under you, your body falling to the mattress as he brushed back your hair.

“Tell me you love me too, baby.” He said, eyes looking for yours to meet him.

You gave him a tired smile. “Of course, I love you. Always have.”

Jungkook grinned sloppily, teeth visibly gritting as he emptied himself within you even as you spoke the words, dropping on top of you, and forehead against yours. His hard panting mixed with yours, sealing a moment.

This wasn’t something you could replace. This, right here was something you’d have forever.

With Jungkook pressed right up against you, arms over you and head nuzzled into your neck, you close your eyes again, taking comfort.

#smutcentralnet #btsbookclub #jungkook smut #bts smut #taehyung smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook #taehyung #bts #bangtan #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Talking to the Wind

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Characters: Kairi

Hi, all! I wanted to squeeze in a story or two for SoKai Week, since I haven’t been able to write for them yet. :3 Here’s a story for the Day 3 prompt, “Thinking of You.” Enjoy!

Kairi’s eyes were closed as she listened to the rhythmic flutter of the wind through thousands upon thousands of emerald-green leaves. The tune carried through the wood to flit up to the small bluff on which Kairi was seated. The grass was cool against her legs, which were tucked up to her body. She cracked an eye open when she felt a peculiar crawling sensation and found a ladybug creeping over the soft skin of her thigh. She extended her finger in front of the small creature; it poked at her fingertip with its thin black feelers before clambering up to perch contentedly on her fingernail. Kairi raised her hand into the air to frame the red-and-black beetle in the bright sunlight. It flapped its wings before fluttering off with a muted buzz.

Kairi exhaled deeply and reclined back on her hands, pushing out her legs so that her ankles dangled down over the chasm extending beyond the bluff. A sea of green stretched on before her, and the breeze ruffled waves into the expanse of leaves. Kairi could almost imagine she was back on Destiny Islands, lounging in the hot sand with the surf kissing her toes. She closed her eyes once more. She pretended that the forest breeze carried a hint of salt, and the sound of the ruffling leaves was the crashing of waves against the shore, bringing with them salt spray and seashells and promises of worlds far, far away.

Kairi hummed contentedly and smiled at the image. She could literally smell the sweet coconut milk and taste the succulent flesh as she mentally cracked one open. She could feel the waxy, smooth surface of the palm tree leaves as she imagined her fingers coasting over them. She could hear Sora and Riku laughing blissfully as they clacked their wooden swords together in their daily fight. Sora turned to her with that goofy, toothy smile that never failed to make her heart sing in her chest like a reverent choir. The peaceful image suddenly took a bittersweet turn, and Kairi found tears brimming in the corners of her eyes and her bottom lip wobbling. With a shaky breath, she opened her eyes to stare out into the sea of green.

“I miss that,” she whispered. The breeze picked it up and carried it away. She fancied that it delivered it all those worlds away, wherever Sora was- her simple message and unspoken wish to see him again. “I miss you, Sora.”

Sighing deeply, Kairi looked down at her hands to mindlessly play with her cuticles. It seemed like a life age since she had last seen him; for the last several years, they existed lightyears from one another. Though Kairi no longer had to play the spouse waiting for their soldier to come home and carried a Keyblade, the distance was still agonizing. Suddenly, she flopped back into the grass. Pollen clouded into the air and was whisked away with the breeze. Unfortunately, the wind couldn’t carry away her melancholy. Kairi could see Sora’s face before her waking eyes, all toothy smile and sparkling bright eyes.

“Where are you now?” she wondered aloud. The dandelions beside her head fluttered and dislodged their seeds as if to say, we are everywhere yet nowhere. That’s what it felt like to Kairi, the enigmatic Sora. He tromped from world to world, leaving a clear trail of friendship and light in his wake, but to Kairi, he was nowhere. No matter how fast she ran, how desperately she reached out, he eluded her. She could only grasp the glimmers of light he left behind. She lolled her head to the side to observe the dandelions; a few of their floatable seeds clung to the stems, hesitant to go on into the world.

I remember being like that, Kairi smiled wistfully. Even though I had only a hazy memory of you, I still waited on that beach for the day you came home. That endless blue expanse had frightened her immensely. What dangers lie in its black deeps? What waves waited to toss her about and lead her astray? She had waited, and waited, and waited- and eventually, destiny had been forced to come to her. Kairi pursed her lips and blew strongly on the dandelion seeds, forcing them to detach and coast away as the breeze picked them up. “Sometimes destiny comes to you,” she chuckled wanly.

She sighed again and looked back up at the sky. It was brilliantly blue that day, with puffy white clouds sailing through its expanse. “Are you looking at the same sky? I suppose you can’t, since we’re not in the same world,” she mused ironically. “Still, is the sky you see as beautiful as this?” The grasses rippled in response to the ever-present wind. “I wish I was there with you,” she lamented quietly. Sora’s role in this tremendous inter-world battle was monumental; Kairi knew that. She just wished she could fight properly at his side for once. Sure, he had Donald and Goofy and the rest of their friends, but sometimes, Kairi wondered how many burdens he shouldered alone.

“I hope you’re eating and drinking well,” she chuckled. “Can’t save worlds on an empty stomach!” The breeze rushed past her again, apparently intent on being her mail carrier. She liked the idea that the winds crossed time and space to bring her wishful thinking to Sora; it made his long absences slightly more bearable. “You always did love to eat. When was the last time you had salted fish and fries? Your mom used to make the best!” Talking to the wind had been awkward at first, but as she conversed with her silent partner, the words came more naturally.

“I hope you’ve outgrown your clumsiness, too,” she chuckled, holding her knuckles to her lips as she shoulders shook lightly. “I remember how many times I had to put bandages on your cheek or your knees because you fell and scraped yourself up… I have a feeling that Donald wouldn’t dote on you like I would.” Her laughter rang through the quiet wood air. The birds twittered in response, and a few even joined her to hop amongst the logs and wildflowers, pecking at grasshoppers and aphids camouflaged in the spring green. Kairi chuckled again and sat up, fingers skipping over her knees and elbows. Small, healing scrapes and scratches decorated the skin there, evidence of her long training in the hidden, timeless world.

“Now I look the clumsy one! I find bruises and scrapes I don’t even remember getting! I swear that Axel tries to beat me up in my sleep so that he doesn’t lose face,” she laughed.

“What? No way!” she could hear Sora chime. He’d raise an eyebrow and playfully nudge her with an elbow. “Axel has a right to be scared, though. No one’s tougher than you, Kairi!” She hung her head down as she chuckled breathily. Yeah, that was definitely something Sora would say. He was always so encouraging and kind; he was just an all-around good, sunny guy. It was no wonder she was kind of in love with him.

She wasn’t sure quite when it happened. Yet, happen it did; her feelings were unmistakable. Whenever she pictured or thought of Sora, her heart would flutter, and her veins would flood with a bubbling happiness. Light danced around his image in her mind. He was her sun, casting light on her world. She only wanted to be an equal light for him, to chase away the darkness that threatened to encroach on him at every turn.

Kairi exhaled through her nose and stood up to walk up to the edge of the bluff. She clasped her hands behind her back and smiled as the breeze wrapped around her, embracing her with invisible arms. Had Sora spoken back, and hugged her to tell her they would see each other soon? She liked to think so. With a serene smile, she expressed her final words to the wind for that day.

“Be safe. We’ll see each other soon, Sora. This time, I’ll fight alongside you.” The winds rushed forward to deliver her words to the boy so far, far away from her. It ruffled her skirt in its enthusiasm, and the gentle sound joined the melody of the tree limbs shaking in the gale. As she turned around to head back towards the training grounds, she could almost imagine what he’d say.

“Can’t wait! I’ll bet you’re even stronger than I am.” The breeze echoed with his joyful laughs. “See you soon… Kairi.”

“Until then, I’ll be thinking of you.”

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @sokaiweek

#sokai #sora x kairi #kairi x sora #kingdom hearts #kh sora #kh kairi #kh fanfic #kh fanfiction

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beanie-beebo-writes · 4 years

Text

What Once Was But Never Will Be

Category: One-shot, gen-fic

A/N: This story was written in 2016, so it may be a bit different from my current style of writing. At the time, I was experimenting with fanfic and writing, and I really was proud of this at the time. A lot of this was based on lore I researched as well. Enjoy! Also let me know if I should put this into chapters or if this format is fine!

"I'm turning in for the night," Sam said; his back protesting from remaining in the same position for hours, "don't stay up too late, alright?"

"Okay mom, sure thing." Dean said with an eye roll.

Sam huffed in amusement. "Night!" He shouted from down the hall.

"Night." Dean replied audibly to his brother.

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose as he continued to skim through thick piles of information. Back and forth he went from the lore to the patient records, making his eyes grow tired. He couldn't sleep, not now. He was so close, he could feel it. He scooched his chair back and rubbed his drooping eyelids. The bunker was silent, except for the occasional soft snore echoing from Sam's room.

"Maybe I'll do better in the morning." He sighed, stifling a yawn.

Leaving everything as if he just got up and left, he dragged himself to the bathroom and got ready for bed. As he laid down, his mind couldn't help but wander to one of the victims. His name was Victor, and he was only eight years old. Why do the helpless always end up getting hurt?

It wasn't long before the saddening thoughts of the helpless young boy silenced him into a dreamless state of slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing Dean awoke to was the sweet smell of coffee and creamer. Up early, aren't we Sammy? He opened his eyes to see an oddly familiar room; he bolted upright. His eyes darted around the average-sized bedroom and back to the bed he was sleeping in. It wasn't his bed, it was a bed made for two, a queen bed. The other side was unkempt and cold; he was slightly clueless. Where have I seen this room before? He quietly crept down a hallway and down some stairs off of the familiar room. The area was lit by some lamps in a living room, which was also familiar. Weird. He made his way to the kitchen. With caution, he slid over to the coffee maker and found a sort of sloppily written note beside a ceramic mug. 'Have a great day sweetie! :) Love you lots, Carmen' it read.

"Carmen?" Dean asked aloud.

He flipped over the note, half expecting to find a code or something on the back. Only it was just a slip of paper, nothing more. Tossing the note aside, he explored the small apartment in hopes of finding out where he was, or even why. In the next room, he came across some framed pictures. They were distantly familiar, but strangely inaccurate. One showed Sam with his mother and his old girlfriend Jessica, outside of a lit building. He was in a red graduation cap and gown. Another one was an unfamiliar Christmas family photo, with himself, Sam, and his parents all bundled together in festive attire. Dean stared at the photos and pondered for a few moments. It hit him, he knew where he was. He frantically searched his cell phone contacts and stopped a quarter of the way down. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when the familiar voice answered the phone.

"M-mom?" He stuttered into the receiver.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam groggily rolled over to check the time; 10:30 AM.

"Shit." He grumbled as he swung his legs over the bed.

He kneaded his eyes with the heels of his hands and smoothed down his bed-head, his feet slapping down on the cold hallway tiles. He peeked into the library, half-expecting Dean to be out cold with his head actually in the books. But when he just found all of his unkempt files astray, he felt a sense of pride from his gut. He never actually thought Dean would listen to his advice for once. Sam peered into Dean's slightly ajar door to find his older brother sound asleep. One arm was lazily slung across his abdomen while the other dangled slightly off of the bedside. Sam smiled at the peaceful sight of his brother and closed the door lightly, careful not to disturb him.

"I'll let him sleep a bit." He thought as he headed to the kitchen for some breakfast.

His stomach grumbled as he reached for the oatmeal in the upper cupboard. He would have made a nice diner-style breakfast, but he remembered that they were out of some ingredients. As the light hum of the microwave filled the kitchen, Sam decided to make his way to the library to inspect the files Dean had left out. Three profiles were scrambled into one pile, they were all children. Victor Emanuel Hart; 8 y.o; Cause of death: Unknown. Bridgette Rose Pyne; 6 y.o; Cause of death: Unknown. Jacklynn Rose Smith; 7 y.o... The only thing they seemed to have in common was an unknown cause of death, within a brief time period from the other victims, and were of a young age. They were residing in different states and had no relations to one another. He skimmed the other piles to see what else he could find, hoping Dean wouldn't kill him for slightly messing up his work. Coronary reports and autopsy photos, records and police reports, mostly useless. Maybe he would be able to convince his older brother to see the bodies again later. The pictures showed no visible wounds of course, but he thought they should check out the victims before the funeral services took the bodies. They were lucky to even pull the information that they did over the phone with the officers and their fake identities. Bobby may have not been around to help out anymore, but they still had a few tricks up their sleeves to get the job done. They also still had Charlie and Kevin to back them up if they needed the extra assistance.

The warming smell of oatmeal flooded the library, sending Sam straight to the microwave for his meal. He was surprisingly famished, despite that he had eaten dinner last night. He opened the door to the microwave and steam bellowed from it, almost burning his skin. Before he could burn anything else, he quickly rushed back to the library and slid it onto the table. His mouth was watering just from the smell alone as he lightly blew across the top of the bowl. He tried to concentrate on the lore while his bowl cooled, hoping it would distract his stomach, that was currently nipping at his sides. His brother had left one book open at a Japanese creature called the Baku. From the looks of it, he had a head start with some phone calls with the victims' families as well, based on some sticky notes that were stuck above the book. The first one read: Nightmares for months without end; no known mental illnesses. The others seemed to have the same information written on them except for the last one, which had an extra bullet on it: "Mother heard him murmuring aloud at night sometimes, told her the following morning that he was talking to his friend the 'Batu'; Heard it from his friends in his religious instruction classes." Well it definitely fit right into the lore; the Batu was called upon if a child was distressed from a nightmare. It would literally eat the child's nightmares, in exchange for a peaceful night. The lore didn't really specify anything else except for other rituals and ways to protect one's child from one. Sam set the book back on the table and reached for his laptop, which was where it normally was, at least when he would sit with Dean while they did their research. He opened it up and took a large spoonful of the oatmeal, making satisfied noises as he enjoyed each bite slowly. The computer softly hummed the boot up noise and Sam leaned forward, mentally preparing himself for another period of lengthy research once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later Sam pushed the chair away from the table in defeat. There was nothing that could suggest why or how a Batu takes or kills its victims.

"Maybe Dean knows something I don't." Sam said as he walked towards his sibling's dormitory.

He was surprised that he wasn't awake already, it was almost noon! He knocked audibly on Dean's door, hoping he was at least getting ready.

"Dean? You awake?" Not even a rustling came from the room in response, which worried him.

Dean was in the same position that Sam had found him in earlier, one arm was still thrown across his stomach and the other dangling from the bedside. His covers were still the same, as if he hadn't moved at all. He rushed to check for any signs of life.

"Alright, pulse... is slower..? He's breathing.." Sam said aloud.

He checked for any signs of discomfort, a temperature, visible wounds... There was nothing to be found.

It didn't make sense, he wasn't waking up. And there was no reason he should have be unresponsive, at least that Sam could see. He shook him forcefully and repetitively slapped his face.

"Hey Dean, buddy, wake up."

Still no response, not even a twitch or an eye movement. He was still except for his brother frantically shaking him.

"Dean!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was like he was having a deja vu, it felt exactly the same. Almost like he was reliving the same dream. All. Over. Again. He knew he was dreaming, but it just felt so real. He closed his eyes and rang the doorbell. He bit his lip to try and will away his tears, but they had stubbornly crept up on his water line. The white door opened moments later, barely giving him time to think. He looked up and met the familiar set of blue eyes etched with deep concern. Up to the slightly unkempt, blonde hair thrown into a messy bun on top of her head. He couldn't believe his eyes. Why now? Why not years before? He cleared his throat in a final attempt to choke back the emotional dam.

"Hey mom." He wavered as she welcomed him inside.

"Hey sweetie, what's wrong? You look upset.." Mary said as she closed the door with one hand and caressed his face with the other.

His eyes scanned the house from the front hallway, his gaze landing back onto his mother's angelic face. Dean's eyes finally betrayed him as a tear rolled slowly down his cheek; he pulled his mother into a tight hug. That was all that was needed for the rest to leak out. His failure to control his emotions racked his body in sobs, causing his mother to hug him even tighter and shush him.

"Shhhhh, honey it's okay." Mary hushed as she rubbed his back repetitively; she pushed him away gently to see his distraught face. "Hey, sweetie... Talk to me, what's wrong?"

Dean sniffled and wiped the tears away as he regained his posture. He drew in a deep breath and absently ran his hands through his shadow.

"It's nothing." -Mary gave him a bitch face- "No really, it's nothing, I promise. I just.." He trailed off momentarily, "...haven't seen you in a while, that's all."

"Okay... If you say so. Why did you come here so early? I thought when you said you wanted to come over, I thought you meant later on in the day... Not so early in the morning-. Are you sure everything's alright, dear?" Mary asked with great concern.

"Yes, yes I'm sure mom. My mistake, should have told you." Dean reassured. "I just felt a little homesick, that's all."

He trailed off into the familiar living room and observed the identical pictures on the shelves. They all were the same as his fake-reality many years before. None of it added up, but it didn't matter. He was home.

"I think I understand dear... Did you call into work this morning?" Mary asked.

Work? Yeah, definitely the last thing on his mind.

"Yeah, I called. I just needed to be home again.. You know?" The word sounded so alienated coming from his vocal cords; home.

His mother nodded and hummed in agreement. He had been this way years back, and she wondered what could have caused him to feel this way again. Dean had grown closer to the family over the years, but what could possibly have triggered a breakdown like this? She had just seen him a few weeks ago. She planted a kiss on his cheek and looked deeply into his emerald eyes, searching for any reasonable answer to her concerns.

"Well I'll be cooking some breakfast if you need anything, alright?" Mary said softly.

"Alright mom." He said.

She caressed his cheek and Dean leaned into her touch.

"And I mean anything." She added sincerely.

"Okay." Dean replied with a slightly annoyed expression.

Mary smiled deeply and walked into the kitchen. Couldn't someone just miss home?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cas, I-I don't know what to do! He won't wake up a-and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him!" Sam exclaimed as he sat down.

"And you've tried waking him?" Cas parroted, bending down to Dean's still form.

Sam gave him the bitch face causing Cas to raise his hands up in defense.

"Just checking."

Cas placed two fingers on Dean's forehead, making Dean scrunch his eyelids slightly. Cas closed his eyes momentarily, finding himself inside Dean's head. He suddenly became aware of the softly lit room of the Winchesters' old house. Dean was currently observing the pictures and knick-knacks on the shelves.

"He seems to be dreaming." Cas said, opening his eyes to an alert Sam behind him.

"He's dreaming? Well then why can't I wake him up?!" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Cas replied arrogantly.

"Couldn't you... wake him up or something?" Sam impatiently asked.

"I could try, but I can't promise he'll wake up."

Cas put his fingers back on Dean's forehead, finding it slightly chilling to the touch. He closed his eyes and found himself back where he was moments before, next to Dean by the wooden shelves of his past. Dean stumbled backward, surprised by his friend's random usual appearance (not like it was the first).

"Damnit Cas, you scared the shit out of me!" Dean quietly shouted as he unballed his fists.

"You need to wake up, Dean." Cas stated firmly, ignoring the scare he gave his friend.

"What? Why? Is something wrong?" He asked.

"We don't know yet, but you aren't waking up. That's normally not a good sign." Cas replied urgently, afraid something might happen.

"How do I wake up?"

"I'm normally not well informed on the human brain, but you should be able to command yourself to be awake if you're aware that you're asleep." Cas informed briefly.

Dean glanced around the room for a final time as he tightly closed his eyes. Nothing happened. He tried again, but no progress. He was still there, at his old house, in front of his angelic friend, in the familiar room. He repeated the phrase 'wake up' multiple times, even closing his eyes tighter as he said so. But no matter what he tried, he remained in that room, in his dream, of a different reality.

"Cas, nothing's working! What's going on?!"

"I don't know, but it looks like you're trapped." He grinned and suddenly shifted into Dean's mother.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cas, are you alright?!"

Cas opened his eyes and leaned away from the sudden bright light that filled his eyes. His hearing was foggy and his vision was slightly hazy. He noticed he was against Dean's desk, Sam hovering cautiously over him. He rubbed the back of his head as the room spun. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the wooden desk.

"I think so, but I don't believe Dean is." Cas grumbled weakly.

Sam helped him up to where he sat moments ago and observed the angel's injuries. Luckily it only looked like he took a heavy blow to the head from being thrown back to Dean's desk, but he couldn't tell if anything was injured internally.

"Cas, what happened? What was that?!" Sam asked.

"I don't know, but it definitely wasn't good. I was basically thrown out of your brother's state of mind by something powerful. I tried helping Dean wake up and the next thing I know, I'm thrown against his desk." He said as he felt his power diminish.

"Do you think maybe Dean knew something about the case we were working on?" Sam asked Cas, suddenly connecting the dots.

"W...What does that have anything to do with this?" Cas panted as he tried to sit up a bit straighter.

"I'll be right back." Sam said as he backed out of the doorway and ran to the library. His footsteps eerily echoed down the hallway as he ran back with the lore book and the sticky notes Dean had left above them. He thankfully found Cas just as he left him; he handed the findings to Cas for him to scan over.

"We were cracking down on three separate victims with mysterious, unknown deaths across multiple states within a short time period. I hadn't found anything useful yet, but it looked like Dean had already almost cracked the case. Maybe what he was going to hunt, hunted him down first before he could get to it." Sam hypothesized as Cas finished scanning the papers.

"And he was hunting a Baku?" He asked while he set everything down.

"Yeah, it's a japanese creature that was said to eat nightmares of troubled children it got called to. But legend has it that if they call too many times, they would be preyed on and the Baku would eat them whole." Sam informed.

"A japanese creature on the other side of the world? How would that be possible?" Cas asked.

"Well someone could have brought it here with their culture from immigration, or the word just could have spread like folklore normally does." Sam said.

"Which explains the deaths across multiple states." Cas followed.

"Correct. But now we have to find out why it targeted Dean and how to get him out of this spell he's under." Sam replied.

"Well maybe Dean knew something we didn't, like how to stop it or something." Cas suggested.

"But how would the Baku know?"

"Good question. But first we should try and stop it before it does any more harm."

"Good idea." Sam agreed as he collected Dean's findings. "Can you get up on your own?" He asked as he saw his friend struggle to stand on his feet.

"Yeah, I think I'm good, just a bit sore." Cas lied.

Sam reluctantly took him on his word and sped-walked back to the library to research once again. Cas joined him not much later and cracked open one of the boys' laptops. The search had begun; time was precious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What's wrong Dean? You look quite startled.." The thing that transformed into his mother asked shrewdly.

"What are you doing to me?" Dean hissed as he backed away slowly and searched for something to stop the creature.

The thing chuckled and slowly walked closer to him, suddenly turning into Carmen. It cornered him to a wall, forcing him to search for a way out. It touched his cheek romantically and sighed. Dean turned his head away in disgust as it drew itself closer into his personal space.

"Now now Dean, would hate to ruin what you've got here... Wouldn't you?" It purred as it connected his hands to 'Carmen's' hands firmly.

"I don't have anything here. This is a dream caused by the disgusting thing lurking in front of me." Dean spat.

The creature disguised as Carmen frowned. "That hurts Dean... I was only granting your deepest desires you had wished for.." It said.

"I never asked anyone for this." He replied with confusion. He hadn't told anyone anything, how could this thing possibly know anything he wished for? Unless...

"...If I had read your thoughts?" Dean looked slightly shocked as it broke the silence. "You know it's rude to talk behind people's backs Dean.."

Dean swallowed hard. Shit. He would never be able to think of anything the same again.

"I know you wanted this deep down hun, I can feel it." It whispered as it trailed a finger down to the center of Dean's chest. "My insight's never wrong, Dean." It leaned in close enough to taste Dean's alcohol breath.

"But why me, of all people you could have chosen..?"

"I can taste the desires from miles away.. All I had to do was pick up your scent from a crime scene and voila.. You're all mine." It mumbled romantically, looking straight into his eyes. "Besides, wouldn't want someone to kill me off the food chain... Would I?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time seemed to race as Sam dug continuously into the lore. He couldn't find anything, except for the same details. Baku, dream eater, dream granter, preys on repetitive nightmare-afflicted individuals, mostly children. But why would it go after Dean? It didn't add up. More importantly, how could they stop this thing before it stopped Dean? Sporadic clicks from the laptop occasionally broke Sam from his thoughts, only frustrating him further.

"I think I may have found something useful." Cas said suddenly, causing Sam to rush over excitedly.

He turned the laptop over to Sam feeling accomplished. He had never felt so useful without all of his grace, it was almost... rejuvenating. It made him think back to when he had become a hunter for a day, when he thought it would be so easy and fulfilling. But the boys taught him that it was anything but easy. It was more than just a past-time sport, it was a job, a legacy even.

"So it looks like the only way we can ward these things off is to show them a representation of themselves, like a figurine or a sculpture.. That's a start." Sam informed, still scanning the page for more information.

Cas raised his eyebrows, expecting at least some praise from the youngest winchester. Sam furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated on the website in front of him, still seeming to be searching for something.

"But the question is... How do we gank it?" Sam thought aloud.

Cas lowered his eyebrows in discouragement, and looked down at the table. Sam looked down to Cas' slumped form, seeing the change in his expression.

"Hey, Cas, look. You did good, okay?" Sam knelt down slightly to get to his eye level. "You gave us a good lead, but we just need to keep searching, alright? We can't let one small thing stop us from saving Dean." Sam encouraged gently, adding a smirk for reassurance.

Cas smiled back and looked at Sam in the eyes. They haven't lost hope, not yet. If Sam didn't lose hope, neither should he. He felt a slight tug at his vessel's heart. This must be determination, he thought. He still had to become accustomed with emotions, but he knew from the observances. Of Sam, of Dean, of Jimmy. It was as if Jimmy was telling him to not give up. No, not yet. Not just on Dean, but on Sam. He needed him. That's one thing he wouldn't do is let them down again.

"You're right, we can't give up. We won't give up." Cas replied defiantly.

Sam patted his shoulder and went to grab the spare laptop from across the library. Cas continued to scroll through the websites when he suddenly thought of something. They had a lead, and they needed to tell Dean. He could be in danger, and here they were researching in a library.

"Sam, I'll be right back." Cas said suddenly.

The flapping of his wings echoed throughout the bunker, barely giving Sam a chance to turn around and question Cas' disappearance. He sighed with frustration and booted up the computer's system.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Whoever said that this had to be a bad thing? Whoever said this couldn't be a little... fun?" The creature that took Carmen's form purred softly as its fingers slid up Dean's neck.

Suddenly a couple of booming flaps bounced off of the walls of the room and a large breeze blew over several knick-knacks and pictures off of the shelves. The creature slowly turned around to find Cas in a battle stance; it gave him a disgusted look.

"Look who came to crash the party." It snarled.

It started closer, causing Cas to look down slightly. It was only a couple moments, but to Cas it felt like a century. They stared at each other until the creature turned around to face Dean.

"What did you do, pray to your little angel here to come save your ass?" It asked as it started towards Dean.

"Actually, no." Cas interrupted, causing it to turn around again. "I've actually come to save his ass myself."

"And how are you gonna do that? With your angel powers? Please, those don't phase me." It scoffed.

Castiel reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a small figurine. Just before it could shield its eyes, it disappeared in a bright flash. Dean lowered his arm from his face and walked towards Cas.

"What the hell was that?!" Dean exclaimed.

"I believe I got us some time to help you out." Cas replied as he handed Dean the small figurine.

The figurine was a heavy marble creature, with a trunk, cat-like paws, tusks, and a cat-tail. Its features were twisted slightly to form a spiral-like appearance. Dean observed it and then looked back to his friend.

"Next time you see her, show her this figurine. Its her true form and serves as protection, at least for the time being." Cas informed.

They held their gaze with each other for a moment until Castiel disappeared in front of Dean's eyes. Dean looked around expecting someone to be with him. He searched the house to find it completely deserted.

"I should help them with the research." Dean thought to himself as he searched the house for a computer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam looked up from the spare laptop to the sound of angel wings echoing throughout the bunker. Cas walked a little slower than usual to the library table and put one hand on the table and the other on his forehead. He looked a little drained, but better compared to earlier. Sam rushed over and helped him to a chair carefully. He sighed as he rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.

"Cas, where did you go?" Sam asked as he took in the angel's state. He avoided to ask why he looked so drained.

"I retrieved something that resembled a Baku and gave us some time to work with." Cas panted.

"...I'm guessing it worked then." Sam replied as he retrieved the other laptop for Cas. "Think you can handle some more research?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Endless research, that's all hunting seemed to be. He didn't know how much time had went by, but it seemed like hours. Dean had finally found a computer in the attic. He had never been so determined to research in his sleep, in his whole life. He couldn't find anything to gank this thing, and he knew the Baku would be back soon. Obviously his brother and the angel were stuck as well, so he continued to ponder.

"I wonder if there's some sort of banishing spell.." Dean thought aloud.

Just as he began to type 'banishing spell' into the search bar, a bright flash erupted from behind him and illuminated on the computer in front of him. He stood up and turned around with the figurine in hand, but nothing happened. He held it out from himself and cautiously walked closer to the creature posing as Carmen.

"Sorry hun, that doesn't seem to work anymore... Sucks to be you, doesn't it?" It said confidently as it lunged for Dean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Something isn't right Sam, I can feel it." Cas said, breaking the silence.

Sam looked over to Cas to see a troubled expression on his face; he knew something was wrong. Sam thought for a moment and then looked back at Cas.

"I'm guessing your weak powers aren't enough to kill it.." Sam said.

Cas shook his head and it seemed to spin. He held his head in his hands to maintain stability, causing Sam to look over. Cas held up a thumb, knowing the youngest Winchester was already beginning to question his physical state. Silence swallowed the room again momentarily, despite Cas' panting.

"There has to be something we're missing..." Sam mumbled.

"Have you tried searching for a banishing spell?" Cas grunted in a slightly muffled voice from his head being projected towards the floor.

"Have you tried the simple term search of it already?" Sam asked hurriedly.

"Yes, and I found nothing so far." Cas replied, slowly lifting his head up.

"I would say a Purgatory spell, but it looks like we don't have much time to work with here.." Sam said as he walked over to the set of stairs that led to the dungeon. "If I can't find anything on there, maybe the archives have something to offer."

He turned on the dim light of the musty lair and quickly started over to the archives. He remembered Kevin had mentioned a banishing spell when he banished Crowley's demons and decided to give him a quick call. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hi Sam, what's up?" Kevin answered on the other end.

"Kevin, there's something important I need you to remember. Are you alone right now?"

A brief pause and shuffling was heard from Sam's end of the line.

"Yeah, shoot away." He replied momentarily.

"Alright, do you remember when you were with Crowley and you banished his demons to hell?"

Kevin sighed at the mention of the name that sent him misery, not likely wishing to remember those times.

"Yeah, why?"

"We're trying to banish a Baku, a creature that feeds off of nightmares." Sam informed with brevity, searching the archive files for any banishing rituals.

"I'm not really the best at spells, but you might be better off with what they call a repelling spell." Kevin replied.

"A repelling spell? What does that do?"

More shuffling is heard on the other line. "It's not a banishing spell, but it's your best bet at the moment."

Sam pulled out a manilla folder marked 'banishment' and dropped it on the floor in front of him. He kneeled down and scanned the handwritten entries for the words 'repelling spell'.

"Don't bother looking in the archives, it might take a while to come across this one. The only reason I know of this one is because of my mom's involvement with that witch last year. It's only one latin word that needs to be recited, but it involves deep concentration." Kevin interrupted, overhearing Sam's hopeless digging into the manilla folder.

"The person that wants to use this spell correctly must concentrate on repelling all objects around themself. The spell can repel any object around them with a movement as simple as a finger or a toe lift." Kevin recited on the other end.

"Wow, that's some serious stuff.." Sam responded.

"The word that needs to be recited is 'Abite'" Kevin said as he scanned his own notes.

"Awesome, thanks Kev." Sam said as he hung up and ran upstairs.

When he reached the library, he found Cas barely holding it together in front of the laptop. He rushed over and shook him gently. His eyes began to droop heavily and bags were clearly visible under his sunken eyes. He had a feeling his friend might not be able to make the trip to Dean.

"Cas, you with me?" Sam asked softly.

"Kinda.." Cas grunted and then coughed.

"I found a way to banish this thing. But I need to know if you're capable of remembering a few things for Dean." Cas began to speak. "And be honest." Sam interrupted.

"It depends on how much I need to remember, but I feel I have just enough to make a single trip or send him a thought or two." Cas answered truthfully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean blinked heavily to see the creature towering over him, making him feel powerless. It chuckled and stepped on his hand forcefully, hearing a series of cracks flood the silent attic. Dean grunted in pain as she knelt down.

"My my, you're a fighter.. Wish it didn't have to end this way sweetheart, you looked like a keeper." It cooed as it played with a few tufts of his hair.

"Bite me, it ain't over yet." Dean grunted through clenched teeth.

"Oh gladly, I was just getting to that part.." It replied seductively.

It leaned down and began to nibble on one of his ears, making him close his eyes. He refused to be brought pleasure , but if he was going to die, he might as well make it last. He moaned slightly and deeply kissed the creature on top of him. He imagined it really was Carmen, the one he deeply loved in his long lost dreams. He was broken out of his fantasy by a hard bite on his upper lip.

"I know I'm tasty, but I'm not edible." He inserted.

"Oh sweetie, don't you know? You're my next meal, and I'm going to eat you piece, by, piece." It responded deviously as it ripped off a large section of his upper lip.

He began to scream in agony as it dove in for other parts of his face and head. It just tore off large sections of his ear when a large flap of wings erupted throughout the dim-lit attic, followed by a large thud.

"Dean. I need you to listen carefully." A familiar voice grumbled loudly from across the attic.

Cas. The creature stepped off of Dean hastily and headed over towards the voice at the other side of the room.

"A little weak to be fighting a creature like me, buddy boy." It chuckled as it flicked his friend to the nearest wall.

"A spell Dean. Abite." Cas said hoarsely but audibly, recieving a blow in the stomach. He spat out some blood. "Concentrate!" He yelled as the creature lowered itself to the angel's level.

Dean slowly stood up, ignoring the searing pain in multiple areas of his face and closed his eyes. He imagined he had power, almost as if he was possessed by Micheal.

"Abite!" He shouted from across the room, closing his eyes as he did it.

The creature stopped, unable to physically move. Cas coughed and grunted as he rolled closer to an adjacent wall. Dean walked closer to the creature that froze in position, time seemed to flow like he was submerged in molasses. He grabbed the creature by the chin and rose it up. A scream roared from her as a blinding light vaporized their surroundings.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dean gasped and bolted upright, absently feeling his surprisingly undamaged face. Sam rushed over to his side as a thud echoed throughout the bunker. They both looked at each other and ran to the source of the noise. There beside a chair in the library was their friend Cas, motionless and slightly bloody. They dropped their weapons and rushed over to the angel to check for any sign of major injury. Finding nothing, they both picked him up and dragged him to one of the unused guest rooms. After placing him on the bed, they both looked at each other and grabbed medical supplies from their rooms. They hurried back to their friend and tended his visible wounds that needed to be addressed, in silence. Several minutes later, they grabbed chairs and watched over the angel, feeling a sense of irony.

"Us watching over an angel, who would think?" Dean replied as he opened a beer. He sighed in delight as the liquid warmed his insides.

"Yeah." Sam agreed, looking back at the unconscious angel. He wondered if the angel would be okay as Dean offered him a bottle of whiskey.

He accepted the offer and took a long swig at the needed comfort. They sat in silence for several moments, watching the angel's stomach rise and fall rhythmically.

"So, you good?" Sam asked, knowing Dean would likely not want to discuss what had happened.

"Yeah, I'm good." He replied almost truthfully after a long swig of the delightful drink.

Dean/Jensen tags: @akshi8278

#spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn genfic #dean #dean winchester #sam #sam winchester #castiel #cas #misha collins #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #spn oneshot #sorry #it's a long one

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold - Ch.1

Know the Enemy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 1700

Summary: Avenger!reader AU. Part 2 of Melting Hearts series. Part 1 HERE.

Your parents have been taken, parents who didn’t even know you were still alive and playing hero. And now it’s time to negotiate.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of kidnapping, death threat,... crying? Light angst.

Prologue | Story Masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────

Tony barely managed to plug in the phone to his magical tech when the annoying ringtone cut the air again.

You had been sitting on one of the stools in his lab, staring ahead blindly. Instead of a science lair, you saw your parents, family dinners and tiny cute birthday parties in a close circle of the few people who still cared. You saw your dad’s proud smile when you finished high school despite all the odds of your poor health and your mother’s tears on the same occasion, the small diner they took you to after, because you loved it there and you had preferred it to some fancy restaurant.

A squeeze on your hand brought you back to the present and you blinked, looking up to Steve’s face. A shadow of concern was there, but he gave you an encouraging smile. You gulped, eyeing the phone as if it could explode.

“Gonna put in on speaker, sounds good?” Tony hummed, already accepting the call and truly setting it so all of you could hear the caller. Steve’s hand never left yours.

“He-hello?” you spoke up quietly, mentally cursing. Too low. Yet, the person on the other end of the line must have heard you, because he responded.

“Hello, my darling!”

Steve’s grip tightened as the man greeted you cheerfully and Tony quickly started typing sounlessly in order to trace the call. You closed your eyes, the picture of your parents, each tied to a chair and a tape covering their mouths, swimming behind your eyelids.

“What do you want?”

There was a short silence following your question.

“Straight to business, I like that,” the man commented, his voice, immediately burned into your brain like a brand, causing you to sober up. “I wanted you attention.”

“You have it.” You have no idea how much attention you have, you dickbag. Touch them and I swear I’ll rip you open with my teeth.

“Obviously, Snowflake.” You winced, just like Steve, who was trying to keep composed by your side. “I’d like a meeting.”

“Why? Why would you kidnap those people? What-“

“Told ya. Wanted your attention. Gotta admit, your backstory is less interesting then I thought, but the Michaels always had high expectations.”

There was a bitter note behind his words and your lips parted. What the fuck? Was he trying to lead you astray? Or did he really just introduce himself? Both men present with you seemed as surprised as you were – Tony’s eyebrows were up, while Steve’s face darkened. He didn’t like the man revealing himself so easily-- and honestly neither did you.

“Why do you want to meet?”

To kill me?

“Big fan of yours. But with how much fan mail you get, I figured I needed something… bigger.”

You gritted your teeth at the painful pang of anxiety attacking your stomach. Yeah, sure, kidnapping your parents was a bit bigger. How the hell had he figured it out? There was no chance this Michaels didn’t know who you were, no chance of your parents being abducted being a coincidence. Yet, you needed to be sure.

“And you thought kidnapping two innocent people would do?” you strained through your teeth.

Tony gave you a thumbs up and lighted up the big screen – he traced the call. Naturally, it was from Pennsylvania; right at the source.

“Worked, didn’t it? I’m sure your friends already traced the call to the right building, so now nothing stands in the way of our meeting-“ You shot Steve a panicked look – this guy knew very well what he was doing. He must have known how precise the program was, when using the military network combined with Tony’s. How could he know that? “-so why don’t you come tomorrow at 8 a.m.? I would set the meeting earlier, but I tend to be cranky before I have my coffee.”

Steve’s expression was one of furious, veins on his arms ascending as his free hand curled up into a fist. His other forearm was pale; you realized you had been subconsciously tightening your grip on his hand and what was worse, your powers started working on their own, cooling the limb down.

You immediately let go, shocked and horrified. After that, you didn’t think your horror could escalate, but obviously, you were wrong.

“Also, leave your group of merry men and deadly woman home. If you don’t come alone, I’ll know. And if I know, they die.”

Steve shook his head rapidly, his eyes hard and disapproving. Tony was trying to get your attention, waving his hands. ‘Prove of life,’ he mouthed.

You breathed in shakily, closing your eyes. You were out of options. You whole body, every single instinct was screaming at you to tell him to go screw himself, because it was an obvious trap, but you didn’t have a choice.

He had your parents. There was only thing you could do.

“8 a.m. it is. I’ll come. Alone,” you added firmly, ignoring Steve’s hand grabbing your arm and pulling lightly to make you face him.

You opened your eyes slowly, meeting his – they were speaking to you soundlessly, scolding your for even thinking about negotiating with the man and meeting him on your own. You allowed yourself to drown in the sea of outraged blue, surprisingly calming you despite the emotions promising a fight in it. You found yourself strangely relaxed, an insane reaction to this mess.

“But I’m gonna need a non-stop prove of these people being alive.”

Steve’s gaze softened with compassion and you pretended it didn’t do things to you. You fooled no one.

“Obviously. Accept the video feed,” Michaels ordered and Tony clicked on the icon, another big screen lighting up with a face of a man.

JARVIS automatically started the recognition program, while you instinctively started asserting the man. White male in his forties, a bit round face, dark stubble, piercing grey eyes. Two-inch scar above his left eyebrow. It was impossible to guess his built with his body out of the frame.

“And you know, you can cut the game of calling them ‘people’. I know who they are to you,” he exclaimed, one corner of his lips rising.

You swallowed loudly as he disappeared from the frame then, angling the phone and showing you old industrial metallic door. He nudged it with his foot and it opened easily.

You ceased to breathe, your heart stopping as well. Your palm fled to cover your mouth as tears gathered in your eyes.

Here they were; the scene in front of you resembled the photo you had received, so he must have taken it from the very same angle. There wasn’t any change really, but for that you were actually grateful. You parents were still alive and breathing, their scared eyes flashing to the camera for a second before they lowered their gazes to the floor again. Your mother’s shoulders shook, her sobs muffled by the tape over her mouth.

The table you set your fist onto covered in thick layer of ice. You quickly raised it again.

“See, Frostbite? Living and kicking. Let’s keep it this way. You’ll hear from me every half an hour so you know your precious p-“ you held your breath in anticipation. Had he told them? Was he about to tell them now? “-people are still breathing. Can’t wait to meet you, Snowflake.”

And then the line went dead.

You sobbed, folding like a house of cards under a slight breeze. Steve shifted in his position, wrapping his strong arms around you instead of the simple challenging grip on your arm, and you instantly reached for the comfort he was offering. He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Hey, we’ll handle this-“

“Alone,” you whimpered, your voice muffled by his t-shirt. You could feel him shaking his head.

“Not an option. We’ll figure something out. Tony? Who’s this guy?”

“Frederick Michaels. Former employee of… well, me. Stark Industries. MIT graduate, summa cum laude. Just your average IT guy here. Fired a year ago,” Tony informed him swiftly. He didn’t need an encouragement to elaborate. “For harassment. That poor woman had to take a half-year of therapy. Jeez, I wouldn’t be surprised if Pepper had been the one to pack his bag herself. She’s allergic to that stuff.”

You allowed yourself breathe in at the mention of Pepper Potts. That woman was a goddess among men, ultimately badass in a bit different way than Natasha. And you needed to be all kind of badass now. You retreated from Steve’s hug, rising from your stool. Yet, you didn’t quite leave Steve’s personal space, comforted by the heat he was radiating. You eyed Tony.

“Why would he target me?” Why would he target my parents?

“Given his history, I would say it’s your outfit, it’s very tight on the right places-“ Tony hummed, cut off by Steve’s murderous glare, “-but this seems much more complicated than that. Why don’t you chill while everyone else gets here? JARVIS?”

“Already sent an alert to Agents Romanov and Barton as well as Doctor Banner, sir.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, the team working like swish watch. He picked the wrong team to mess with. We’ll deal with that bastard in no time, no worries, Frosty.”

Despite yourself and the air so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife, you smiled.

“Also, get that ice from my table, Elsa. Your manners suck.”

You did as he asked, trying to ignore the anxiety at your powers going haywire – you had other things to worry about now. But you could feel Steve’s worried gaze at the back of your head as your hand hovered over the mess you had made.

He was shaken by that as much as you were, but you never got to talk about it, because Clint entered the laboratory with a yawn.

“What’s up, ki-“ The words died in his throat when he saw the frozen frame of two civilians tied to chairs. “Where’s the fight?” he asked instead and Tony sighed, zooming the map out, replacing the ugly picture.

When the red dot appeared in a town called Snow Shoe, you almost send an icicle through the hologram, really not appreciating the irony.

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 2

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart, @murdermornings, @elisaa-shelby @ask-hellbent-tweek @cxptain, @kallafrench

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #avenger reader #avengers #captain america #steve rogers #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #heart too cold but friends of gold #anika ann

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lordromulus90 · 4 years

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GUNDAM ASTRAY N FRAME

Hi Nya. This is Nila and I want to talk about my Awesome new Gunpla called the Astray N Frame (N for Nila of course).So My Gunpla has like 5 forms.I don’t really known why it needs 5 forms but my owner and long time friend Romulus kinda wanted it to have as many possible forms as it can (Yet that will just be a bit excessive I think. Oh well) We begin with the Base form which is pretty much an Astray Red frame painted in my colors. You may also notice that the Chest is from the Build Strike Gundam cause at the time, It just makes sense

Here is the second form of my Astray N frame known as BUSTER form. Its got the Hyperion Back pack and Duel Gundam Arms plus a Mobile shield from the Force Impulse Gundam However, Most of the parts are still the same. Still looks cool though

Next we have the Astray N frame Kai possibly the most obnoxious design for my Gunpla cause of that huge Tactical Arms sword and back pack. Its based around the Red Frame Kai and It also carries two swords. How cool

My personal favorite and the one Volt made for me is the Astray N Frame Form 3. This is actually the 3rd form of the N frame before the N frame Kai and its just my favorite. Its got the Sengoku Astray Arms something I never thought would be added in my Gunpla and that Mobile shield from the Sword Impulse is pretty rad and all but I kinda miss the big Mobile shield from the Force Impulse. Still, I can’t wait to test out my new Gunpla in the tournament (Wonder if I can get a Cuteness defender armor of this. That would be awesome. Nya!!)

When my N frame got totally wrecked, My Friends Volt made me this somehow. I call it the Nyan Jacket which is based on the Mars Jacket. All of the Astray Parts are stored away in this armor and when its time to fight I can detach the armor and fight just as normal. It was pretty effective too

And that’s all of the forms of my new Gunpla. Hope to see my friends make some improvements to their Gunpla as well. See ya later Nya!!

#mobile suit gundam #gundam #gundam astray #gundam astray red frame #Astray red frame kai #mars jacket #GBGW #video game

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thronesofshadows · 4 years

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Two for One || Marley & Evelyn

Takes place during the darkness.

Well, sometimes, as it turns out, not all the police are quite so off-putting...

Another B&E gone sour meant that Marley was once again standing outside of a bar at 1am and not drinking. A true tragedy. That was 3 of the four nights this week now, each of them the same circumstance. Vampires were getting bolder, as were other critters of the night. She could only hope this case would at least be a little more interesting. Turns out, it kinda was. But in the way that didn’t help her other hobby. This was definitely some sort of animal attack. Supernatural in nature, judging by how much of the guy was...missing. Too bad Marley didn’t care to correct the officer when he said they were thinking bear. A bear couldn’t open doors without breaking anything, and there was no glass or broken stone. And bugbears didn’t eat people. They really ought to, but they didn’t. Their loss. She was idling outside, pretending to examine the scene more when someone out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Standing up straight, she looked from the other officers, to the woman, before turning to head over. “Hey,” she said, making sure her voice wasn’t too rough. Sometimes she forgot how intimidating she could sound, but if this person had witnessed anything, she needed to play it cool. “You work around here?” she asked, motioning around. The woman, she noticed as she came closer, was rather attractive. Kinda cute. Blonde hair, small frame. There was something striking about her, something Marley couldn’t quite put her finger on yet. But...that something made Marley want to know even more. Curiosity always got the better of her, after all.

There had been an incident not too far away from her work, and Evelyn had happened to be at the Artesian, doing filing paperwork from some new shipments she had gotten. Because even in constant darkness, people liked a good drink. But she’d heard noises outside and had made her way out, watching carefully from the sidelines. Almost nobody had paid her any attention so far, which was fine - probably better, in the long run, even - she didn’t need to be accused of anything, especially when whatever had happened had nothing to do with her. Except perhaps her thoughts had finished too soon, because someone was walking over to her and she straightened up, because these were the police and Evelyn truly did not entirely trust the police, but she knew that one had to maintain basic niceties, especially because having the police trust you was important. Besides, the woman walking over was attractive - and so Evelyn ran her fingers through her hair, accentuating the light curls, and grinned. “I do, I work at The Artesian. Well, technically, I own it, but I also bartend there sometimes.” She giggled. “Is there something I can do for you? I was working late and I heard a commotion out here and so I had to come and see what was happening. This whole dark-whenever thing is doing a number on this town.”

“Work, own,” Marley said, making sure she spoke her words clearly, “same thing, right?” A teasing grin. She probably shouldn’t have been teasing while in uniform with someone who could possibly be a witness, but Marley already knew the outcome of this case. “Kidding. Also, impressive. Have you been inside all night? You didn’t happen to hear or see anything, did you?” she asked, taking a step closer. Red eyes hidden behind sunglasses examined the women a little closer. But there was nothing about her that stood out enough for Marley to pinpoint what this feeling was. Her intuition rarely led her astray. “It seems someone has broken into the building next to yours. I’m just canvassing the area, seeing if there were any witnesses.”

“Well, no, not technically.” Evelyn straightened up, looking at the other woman with a moment of intrigue. “I have staff, but they do not own my bar.” The woman was joking, and Evelyn knew that - at least, she’d figured as much - but that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel the need to highlight the fact again. “I was inside, yes - I heard some noises and so I came out to see if everyone was alright.” She gave a false nervous giggle. “You know, you can never be too careful, right?” She bit down on her lip and looked at the other woman - the whole sunglasses-at-1am thing was certainly a choice. “I’m happy to talk to you, if you want, but I - I don’t think I saw anything of super use. I know this area well though, if that is helpful?” She could practically feel her accent growing stronger, the rise in her voice hopefully conveying to this woman just how concerned she was. Humans had to act that way, didn’t they?

Marley frowned as the woman explained through her joke. Not the joking type then, was she? She brushed the thought off, anyway. It wasn’t important . Some of the CSI had finally arrived and were taping off the scene, so Marley stepped forward, touching the woman’s arm gently to move her further away from the scene. There was something...almost odd about the way she talked, the words she chose. Marley had studied behavior profiling, after all, and she was trained to look for these things, even if she wasn’t actively...looking for these things. “Of course. Careful saves lives.” She gave a little grin, as much of one as she could muster, before folding her arms across her chest. “So you’re in the area often? Did you know the people who worked here? Know of anyone who might want to hurt them?”

The other woman was touching her arm and Evelyn wanted to shrug away, she’d never liked the police all too much - back home she had not thought about them all that frequently, but here, where they could not even have figured out who killed Melanie - some of them left a bitter taste in her mouth. She liked Cece, but they’d met under other circumstances and Cece wasn’t as responsible for finding criminals as many others were. She let the woman guide her further away from the scene - which was fine by her, she had only come out to see what was going on, after all. “It does. One needs to be aware, especially in this whole constant darkness thing we have going on.” A pause. “Well, at least a few nights a week; my bar is only open on the weekends - I include Friday nights as well.” She bit her lip. “I know many people who own businesses around here. Well - I know them at least at acquaintance level, but most seem perfectly average.” Perfectly human, at least. “Well, I do not see why anyone would be targeted, um, specifically,” she continued, dropping in an occasional filler word, a pause in her thoughts, because though she valued being articulate, fillers could be a sign of worry, “but you know, I have heard that this town does have a higher rate of random break ins and attacks than most in Maine. Or elsewhere!” Her pitch rose for a moment before she settled down to look back at the other woman, her eyes taking in the other woman’s posture under her contacts. “So, well, that might be it, right?”

“One thing I’ve learned about this town,” Marley said, giving a little frown, “is that no one is just ‘perfectly normal’.” Even the normal humans had a certain something to them that made them different from the humans of other places. In White Crest, it was almost like they were all trying too hard to be normal, and it therefore made them more suspicious and strange. Marley waved it off, though. “Don’t worry about it, they’re just routine questions.” This woman seemed almost anxious, almost as if she were trying to make a show of it, but Marley had a feeling something more was up. She wanted to know. It was as if the curiosity inside Marley was clawing at her to figure out what this woman had to give. How her fear might taste. “It could be,” she started finally, playing up the danger of the situation. Get her riled up first. “We do get a lot of break-ins and attacks. It’s dangerous out here, especially with all this darkness. But don’t worry too much, ma’am,” she said, turning, finally, to look at her. Eager to see what made her cower. “We’ll do our best to make sure this doesn’t happen again.” Finally, pulled her glasses off, revealing glowing red eyes, looking at Evelyn sternly, the black of her jacket and the black of her hair almost fading into the shadows around them. “Everything will be fine.”

“Mm, well, this town does have certain quirks I have not seen anyplace else, I will certainly give you that.” Evelyn raised an eyebrow. Routine questions, of course. Routine only when it benefited the police, and yet if she had shown up telling them about Melanie, she doubted that most of them would have done anything. Which was why she had avoided that altogether. Cleaned up and dealt with everything herself, though she knew that Melanie did have an official death certificate, and an official grave. She deserved that at least. “It is quite dangerous,” she replied, biting her lip. Though she was safe, right now - at least from any human weapons. Not that the other woman knew that though. “It is Evelyn, not ma’am, that makes me feel far too old.” She made a small face, though she didn’t have too much time to process all of that because Marley was taking off her glasses and her eyes were red and Evelyn blinked a few times out of sheer surprise. Waited to see if the other woman was mara or vampire or something else entirely. “Will it?” She said, biting her lip again.

Marley knew something was immediately wrong the second she looked into Evelyn’s eyes and felt...nothing. Not even a hint. There was no way this woman had no fear. She was small and frail looking and had those big doe eyes. Which meant. Marley recoiled, stepping back. “You’re a mara,” she hissed suddenly, eyes narrowing, their red glow faint but sharp as she glared at the woman. Her disdain for her own kind wasn’t unfounded-- the only mara she’d ever felt a part of rejected her. And every other one she met held their same standards. Marley was a monster to them. They were wrong, of course. Marley wasn’t a monster. She was just using the powers given to her in their full and rightful potential. What made humans so special, anyways? Why was preying on them considered taboo and horrible? What about the hunters and the humans that preyed on the mara? Why weren’t they considered monsters? Focusing back, she tried to remind herself that she still needed to keep up appearances. There were other cops here, and she couldn’t lose herself with them around. “Guess I should’ve expected to find another one here eventually.”

“So are you.” Evelyn hissed back at the woman, though as the realization crept over her, she couldn’t help but feel relief. So why wasn’t the other woman happier at this? Why wasn’t she more thrilled to find someone like her. “There are not many that I have met.” She kept her voice barely above a whisper, taking in the other woman’s face, the way her hair fell, her eyes - her lips - Evelyn shook her head and focused back. She wasn’t human. She wasn’t human and she was mara and if Evelyn were the sort to cry with relief she likely would have, then. Even if the other woman did not seem as thrilled as she did. “I guess I do not need to fake being scared now, do I? Everything I told you before is true, though.” She didn’t move out of the other woman’s touch, deciding it was up to her when the two of them moved from where they were standing. “I know people around here, but I have no idea what exactly happened.”

As Evelyn looked at her, Marley couldn’t help but stare back, however begrudgingly. Aside from the community in Seattle, she hadn’t met too many mara, and definitely not any that lived in isolation, like her. Was Evelyn like her, then? Or was that too good of a thing to happen? Too good to be true? Narrowing her eyes, Marley unfurled her arms slowly, glancing around before nodding towards a more secluded area they could talk, leading her over. “Are there more here?” she asked finally, “Of us?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say that, but she needed to know. Was there a community here like the one in Seattle? Were they going to reject Marley? Was Evelyn going to? “Oh, yeah--” she glanced back over her shoulder towards the crime scene before shrugging, “no, I believe you. That was definitely some sort of night dwelling creature. Like a werewolf or some shit. Just have to, you know, keep up appearances for the ones that still think werewolves are just an internet fetish.”

“I,” Evelyn allowed Marley to lead her away from where the police were collecting themselves. “Some. Not tons, at least not that I have met, but yes.” She blinked, still taking in a deep breath. Allowing herself to focus on Marley, on what the other woman looked like. This was almost all too much, and she could only have flashes back to when she’d found out about Melanie and how she’d felt an almost otherworldly sense of relief. Then again with Gideon, every time she met another mara feeling as though she’d found another part of home that she’d never been afforded for the first twenty four years of her life. “Good, thank you - yes, there are far too many here who believe that, but I am right there with you on keeping up appearances. Hence, well, hence the false terror. I feel bad, of course, but not scared.”

“Why would you feel bad?” Marley said, perhaps a little too quickly. “He was just human.” The word didn’t hold disdain, per say, but it wasn’t said with pity, either. Marley scrunched her brow, put her sunglasses back on. If Evelyn was the type of mara that mourned humans and didn’t want to hurt them, then she wasn’t the type of mara Marley wanted to be around. She took a step back, arms taught across her chest. “We all die eventually, right? It was just his time.” But something about Evelyn-- perhaps her curiosity, or the fact that she hadn’t recoiled when Marley had said there was a death-- made Marley believe there was more to her than this false demeanor. She looked younger, as well. Influential. Narrowing her eyes, Marley cocked her head to the side. “Does it actually make you feel bad? That he died?”

“Because,” Evelyn began, watching Marley as the other woman put her sunglasses back on. “I mean, I do not advocate murder.” Just human, the words hung heavy on her tongue, though unspoken. She looked over to Marley, some part of her so intensely needing - craving validation. “We do.” Melanie. My mom. Dying doesn’t mean that it is your time, not always. She let one of her hands rise to rest on the other woman’s shoulder. “I think I was just surprised. I,” should mourn him, but he was never too kind, so perhaps… “Why should I feel bad? It is not as though I killed him. He was human, too. Just human.” The words felt almost like a release, being spoken aloud. She had used such a similar expression with Deirdre, but somehow, to say those words to another mara felt good. Melanie had said the same, ‘They’re just human Evelyn, just because you grew up with them and are half human yourself doesn’t mean you have to feel sympathy for them.’ This woman’s words felt similar. “Not bad. Surprised.” She repeated herself.

“He wasn’t technically murdered, though,” Marley said with a shrug, glancing at Evelyn from behind her dark sunglasses, Evelyn’s eyes reflected in them. “Murder just for murder is bad. You’re right. But this was just...an animal attack. Right?” She gave a knowing smirk. Supernatural or not, this really hadn’t been a murder. Just an unfortunate night for a man trying to lock up his store. Not that Marley felt bad about it at all. “Humans are so fragile,” she said absently, only snapping back to her thoughts when a hand was placed on her shoulder. Physical contact wasn’t something she dealt with a lot, unless everyone was naked. She stayed still, though, taking in what Evelyn had said. Finally, after a long moment, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a card-- one with her name on it. Held it out to Evelyn. “Next time, don’t be so surprised. We’re mara, Evelyn. Death is part of our existence. I get the feeling this might all be sorta new to you, so,” she placed the card in her hand, “if you wanna know what it’s really like, just gimme a call.” She started to back away, smiling. “Anytime, really. I don’t sleep much.” Pulled down her sunglasses so that Evelyn could see her wink.

“Right.” Evelyn pressed her lips together, hard. Glanced down at Marley’s lips, at the smirk. Glanced up at her, focusing on her words and not her lips or her hair or anything else. Focusing on the fact that this was another mara, someone else like her, and the thought made her practically want to cry out of relief. She knew that she craved attention, craved being around others like herself, but apparently it took actually being around someone else to make all of that come rushing back. Not being alone any more - she’d have to tell Gideon about this development. “Humans are fragile, I always loved how powerful I felt at night, how nothing could hurt me.” She watched as Marley pulled out a card, “I cannot help being a little bit surprised.” Death is not part of who I am, other than in dreams. “It - it is not that new.” She frowned for a moment, her lips twisting around. “But if you know more than I do, I am always happy to learn.” She took the card from Marley with her forefinger and middle finger, dark blue nails glinting just slightly from the streetlights. A smirk crossed her lips for a moment, then. “Well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse?”

That angry feeling Marley got when she looked at other mara was still rattling around in her chest, but if Evelyn really was so alone in this town, without a mara community, then maybe Marley still had a chance to show her the right way. And maybe then, she could start feeling a little less lonely, too. No-- that wasn’t right. She didn’t need other mara. She didn’t need anyone. But the idea of making someone like her, it wasn’t one to pass up. If she could prove to the world, to other mara, to herself, that she wasn’t bad, that this was how it was supposed to be, then she should do it. She smiled, bigger this time. “I know quite a bit,” she said, giving a shrug with both arms, “I’ve been doing this since before I could walk, after all. Nightmares, fears-- I’ve even learned how to see in to dreams. So just-- think on it, alright?” she pushed her sunglasses back up. “You and I-- I think we could have a lot of fun together.” She motioned back over her shoulder. “I should get back to work, but--” paused for a moment, letting it linger. She could tell Evelyn was interested in her, and not just because they were both mara, “--don’t keep me waiting too long, Evelyn.” Before she bowed and turned away, heading back over to the scene. And she knew Evelyn would call-- they always did, after all. No one said no to Marley.

#wickedswriting #c marley #chatzy #two for one

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 6 years

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Prompt: ‘I don’t care, you’re not even my real Dad’ Seb says that to Aaron after a huge fight and it breaks Aaron’s heart. But Robert makes him see sense at how much Aaron loves him and it’s never ok to say that.

Robert finds him at the scrapyard, slumped in the seat of a beat up old Corsa, not unlike the one Robert used to drive. It’s been in the yard as long as Robert can remember, long enough for Seb to have played in it when he was tiny, now heading towards being old enough to drive.

“Get in.” He orders, through the window of his car, the tone one he’d never had to use before. He’d had to drive around the village a couple of times to calm down before he’d let himself look for him.

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m your father and I told you to. Sebastian, I mean it. Get in.” He never called him that, it had always been Seb, but then he’d never been this mad before. As slow as he possibly can Seb drags his tall frame from the car and drags his feet through the gravel until he reaches the car. “Put your seatbelt on.”

He doesn’t speak, just speeds out of the yard and out of the village, not stopping until they’re up on the old farm, the old tracks unused now, they won’t be disturbed.

“You want to tell me why I found Aaron in tears when I got home?” He’s at least glad to see a flicker of something at his words. He’d got home, wanting nothing more than to have a night on the sofa watching mindless TV, to find Aaron sitting at the kitchen table, eyes red and sleeves pulled over his hands a sure giveaway that something was wrong.

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“Not the details. Just said I needed to find you, but he’d been crying. So, either you tell me or I’ll go back and get it out of him.” It wasn’t good, he knew that much. He hadn’t seen Aaron in a state like that for years so whatever it was, it was bad.

“He’s always on at me, about school and stuff.”

“Us parents are boring like that. Full story Seb or we go home right now.” He watches as he twists his fingers into his school sweater over and over, obviously nervous.

“You won’t be mad?”

“Can’t promise that, but if you tell me, I’ll try and understand, and then we’ll sort it out, yeah?”

“I wanted to go out. Mark’s having a party at his house tomorrow night and Aaron said I couldn’t go.” He’s not heard Seb call him by his name for years, not since he started school in fact. Aaron was Papa, he was Dad.

“Not on a school night, you know the rules. Go on.” He checked his watch quickly, had promised to text Aaron when he found him but he didn’t want to stop Seb telling him what had happened.

“Isaac’s going.” Robert rolls his eyes, Seb’s hero worship of Isaac was a lot cuter when he was little and he’d follow him round the village hanging on his every word. Now though, Isaac’s ability to lead Seb astray wasn’t fun at all.

“What Cain and Moira let him do is nothing to do with me and Aaron. You’ve got exams soon enough, so you’ll stick to the rules. Now tell me what happened because that wouldn’t have Aaron in the state I found him in.”

“Was he really upset?”

“Yes. Now stop stalling and tell me.”

“I said he couldn’t tell me what to do.” He glances sideways at Robert, and he knows before Seb even says it. “I told him he wasn’t my real Dad, so he couldn’t stop me doing anything.”

It’s not as if it’s the first time Seb’s pushed back against them. Only last month he’d told Robert he hated him for something or other, forgotten about within a couple of days, but this was different.

He doesn’t say anything, because he’s speechless for once in his life, and he doesn’t want to lose his temper, so he just starts the car, reversing away from the farm.

“Where are we going?”

“Home, and you’re going to apologise.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Did I ever tell you about the first time Aaron held you?” Seb already knew what had gone on back then. You can’t live in Emmerdale without someone gossiping. “You were about three months old and I was losing my mind because your Mum was ill and I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. Trying to take care of you, run a business on my own and I was falling apart. I took you to work with me one day and you would not stop crying. Aaron was there, and at the end of my tether I asked him to hold you.”

“So?”

“You know what happened, me and your Mum, that Aaron and I broke up...I can’t imagine how much it took for him to hold you back then, but he did, and you stopped crying straight away, smiling up at him and gurgling at him like you’d been there all your life. Aaron’s been your Dad for a lot longer than either of us realised it.” Seb doesn’t say anything and Robert knows him well enough to know that he’s feeling guilty. “What did he say, when you said what you did?”

“Nothing. He just stared at me. He didn’t even tell me off.”

“Because what you said...for a long time he thought that, that he wasn’t really your Dad, that he didn’t get a say or whatever. So he’s probably...no he is hurting, and I know you, so I know that you didn’t really mean it. You’re too like me, when you’re hurting you lash out at people.” He sighs as he pulls the car to a stop outside Mill. “Is there something else going on?”

Seb doesn’t answer, just slams out of the car making Robert wince even though he’s used to the teenager mood swings. Maybe it’s karma for him being a nightmare at that age. Whatever it is he hopes it comes to an end quickly enough.

When he gets inside Seb’s nowhere to be seen and Aaron’s just sitting at the table. He looks better than he had an hour ago which is something.

“Where is he?”

“His room.”

“I told him to apologise.” He has one hand on the bannister before Aaron speaks, telling him to leave it. “I don’t want to leave it. He can’t say that Aaron, I won’t have it. You’re his Dad and I’m not having you upset like this.”

“You and I both remember being his age Robert. It hurt, I admit that, way more than I thought it would, but it’s Seb, he’s not cruel.”

“So what do we do?”

“I’m going to talk to him in a minute, see if I can’t get through to him if you had no luck. You can go and fetch Ella from her dance class or she’ll try walking home again.”

“Why did we raise such independent minded kids again?” Aaron chuckles and pushes him towards the door.

Before he goes upstairs he makes two mugs of tea, just how Seb likes them. His bedroom door is open and he’s lying on his bed staring at the ceiling.

“Can I come in?” He gets a half shrug which is good enough. “Here, just how you like it. Not that weak muck your Dad makes.”

“Thanks.” Aaron sets it down and sits on the floor next to the bed.

“You feel like talking?” Seb shakes his head. “Hmm, I will then. Someone said something to you? At school I bet? About how I don’t love you as much, or I can’t be your Dad, or some rubbish like that?”

“Tyler. Said wasn’t it weird, and how you must love Ella more.” Seb always tries to act so grown up and cool, but right now he looks like a little boy again and it makes Aaron’s heart ache that even for a second he might believe it was true.

“Well clearly Tyler’s an idiot. So, you thought he must be right and lashed out at me so I’d prove him right?”

“S’pose so.” He slurps his tea, a habit picked up from Aaron that Robert hates. It just makes the two of them do it all the more.

“I did wonder, back when your Dad and I were apart, whether I could love you, because it did hurt, what happened.”

“Dad said you held me when I was little and I smiled at you.”

“Yeah, you did. Every time I wanted to put you down or give you to him you’d start crying again. Right little pain you were. Can’t think where you got that from.” He shifts so he’s facing Seb properly. “Listen to me, I love you, I couldn’t love you more ok? I told you Dad once that you snuck up and made me love you and I was right.”

“But...”

“Do you think your Granddad Paddy loves me any less, or differently because I don’t have any of his genes?” Seb shook his head. “There you are then. I love you and Ella the same ok? Always have.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t, but you were hurting. Tyler or whoever doesn’t know the first thing about our family, ok?” Seb nods, and all but throws himself at Aaron for a hug, a rare enough occurrence these days. “Right, you’re on potato duty then for tea.”

“But...” He waves his hand at his school books scattered over the desk.

“But nothing. You weren’t bothered about that when you wanted to go to this party were you? Come on, quicker they’re peeled the quicker you can get back to it.”

“And the party?”

“Nice try.”

#Anonymous #robron fic

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godkilller · 5 years

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❝ I hope we always get to do this, ❞ she spoke wistfully, punctuating her aspiration with the crisp plop of another pebble thrown into the cool waters. Beside her, the lounging deity hummed----thoughtful, though a signature stretching smile soon spread despite her vaguely serious sentiment.

❝ ...throw rocks into a lake? ❞ Gin teased. Rangiku scoffed. The familiarity of their exchange, the playfulness, the rolling of her eyes and puff of her cheeks... merely added to the serene normalcy of their getaway. As though they had always been together, here within the trees, for centuries.

The mountainous horizon met a summer sun with vigor, the vibrancy of life hardly disturbed by the cities and villages at its base----most who shallowly entered were merchants traveling for goods to trade, or hermits, and even then they dared not venture too deep into the mysterious woods far too ancient to be respectfully tamed. Old torii resided, dominated by extending greenery leeching across their faded red husks. No paths were pressed within the soft grass leading through the mountain, they departed from tentative trade routes swiftly under Gin’s leadership long before reaching their secret destination. Through thick foliage he guided her, insistent, and she trusted him to not lead her astray. Gin took her within its depths, past the silver rocks and twisted trees, further still into the army of ancient branches, towering trunks, and raging roots until they spilled into the mouth of a grand lake.

Water sparkling clear, they rested in a hidden valley of their own. A sanctuary from her human duties; the god could steal Rangiku away to be a little less of a mortal for a few hours... surrounded by all things ( unbeknownst to her ) spiritual... until she was required to retire home. There, they could spend hours undisturbed------though the present visit counted as merely her third time within the deity’s natural domain, she seemed comfortable enough to linger gladly. She stood without her typical elegant robes, fine fabrics, and rather freed herself in the simplicity of a plain outfit best suited for the summer days, wavy locks captured in a makeshift bun hanging loosely by the base of her neck. She looked beautiful.

❝ ----no, I meant... like, spending more time together like this. You’re always vanishing off somewhere or I’m too busy to sneak out. ❞ Rangiku persisted, defending her earlier statement with a signature pout, and Gin knew better than to even weakly mock her. Straightening up, the god appeared as anything but divine. Though silver strands did betray his facade of mortality with a tint of strangeness, a slight unique trait to be glimpsed at with uncertainty----the main betrayal resided in his eyes.

Though the shape-shifting deity could control all aspects of his appearance, whether human or not, it was a different gesture entirely to dismiss the vibrancy of the eyes. Keepers of the soul, it was widely considered by all celestial and dark alike as a great deception to cloud or otherwise alter the eyes with whatever power available. Demons and spirits could not cloak their eye color no matter the unnatural hue, though gods obeyed via unspoken pact, a promise made to not so shamefully deceive others of one’s true form. But the fox-like entity did not quite play to such clean-cut rules, a trickster and maker of mischief. Gin often remedied the tell by simply squinting his eyes to levels that rendered his vibrant gaze unseen. Though, with her, he felt an openness------especially considering Rangiku didn’t know the significance of their gazes meeting, nor the truth behind the potency of his azure eyes.

Her soul was exposed to him by a mere glimpse, she didn’t know. She couldn’t have known how he knew her with a gaze. Blurred beyond the curves of her body burned her very core, brilliant and tangible if he so wished to reach out and touch her. Brush slender fingers against the wispy humming light of her sheer existence past what soft skin sheltered her. Thoughts of keeping her fire burning for an eternity flowed through his mind, how he vehemently matched her wistful sentiment of wanting this, ALWAYS. What fate guided her to his shrine that night forever linked them. Love seemed far too human, too simple, but perhaps that was the joke of it all. How the bored god had desperately wished for a complication, for an issue to dissect, a puzzle to solve, something new and tangled for him to carefully and slowly unwrap, unravel... now, he wanted plain. Human. Their connection could be of a simpler nature; her, the chrysanthemum renowned within the Hanamachi she called home, and him, the boy from under the bridge. They could remain within their dynamic and he could watch her bloom. Perhaps he’d become her Danna, eventually, in another form. How selfish he became, wanting to encompass her in every way. Emotions expanded beyond the spectrum of colors available to a mere mortal’s soul----here, the divine’s 'soul’ gleamed with tendrils of unseen light, multitudes of flaring flourishes painted across the canvas, ink staining past describable hue. He thought himself incapable, and yet he still looked upon her with it. Enthralled, mesmerized, absolutely captivated, unable to pull away... the god had fallen in love with a human.

❝ ----------well, maybe soon y’won’t haveta sneak out anymore. ❞ He spoke smoothly, uninterested in touching upon his vanishing act. Omnipresence did not behave in the ways humans daydreamed about, but he couldn’t fault them for wishing it so. Gin didn’t enjoy his departure, but could not simply dwell as a pretend-mortal to forsake his divine duties. As nice as that idea sounded...

❝ Oooor... you could just stop disappearing randomly. ❞ She pushed the issue regardless, bent knees shifting against grass to scoot her frame closer to his in assertion.

❝ Where do ya think I go? Y’know, when I vanish and all? ❞ Silver tongue, refined, delicately dipped upon the topic. And he spoke with truth. Intrigue, genuine, tipped his chin upwards in observance of her. There his gaze watched, piercing blue as the cloudless heavens above, and there his gaze entered. Thoughts of him aimlessly wandering off to other cities to flirt among women or perhaps even capture one as a lover, forsaking every thought of her to be overcome with some sort of affair in secrecy, floated briefly in her mind. The image itself was sharp, a thought revisited perhaps or at the very least formulated with focus, worried, and tinges of concern for her own importance. His smile remained as she desperately swatted the concept from her immediate thoughts. He delved no deeper for her internal turmoil of an answer, curiosity appeased.

❝ I don’t know, that’s the whole point, you just---- ❞ she waved her hands, uncertain, then flopped them back beside her to absently grip upon blades of grass, tinkering with discarded pebbles and rocks that were of her previous attention. Now, the stress-relieving motion aided her through admittance. ❝ --and sometimes you’re gone for weeks. ❞

❝ I always come back though, right? ❞ He lacked any hesitation or uncertainty when he answered----nearing pride by the strength of his conviction: he would always return to her. Regardless, Rangiku whined at his answer, as she deemed it insufficient in terms of strength to chase away her insecurities, though he knew her better than to count a fleeting thought as her ultimate weakness. Over time it would brew, grow, or simmer depending on her emotions at that given moment. Whilst the concept itself upset her, she did not feel distraught nor did she strongly wish to confront him on the matter. The value she placed on their time spent together greatly exceeded her desire for answers----and for that, Gin was grateful. One day, perhaps, he’d indulge her with the truth in its entirety. He’d speak of ageless tales, otherworldly and far beyond human harvests, a quiet prayer spoken with coin dispensed. For today? He wished only to throw a few more rocks into a lake.

Rangiku sighed lightly, then smiled with warmth as she smoothed her thumb across a round stone she had captured idly to ease her nerves. Clouds receeded across her thoughts, and once more she embodied the very golden rays that danced within stray strands kissed by a gentle breeze. Delicate, yet dazzling.

❝ Mm... hey, Gin, can you promise me something? ❞

Perhaps the gesture was a tad too animalistic in nature----the simple cant of his head with eyes glinting beneath the shade of an arching branch----which therein indicated the attentive energies of someone far greater than a mere man. A promise was not made lightly, even within the mortal plains. What pacts of demons boasted was that of unending loyalty to their bonds despite the parasitic dynamic they presented, and spirits too held themselves to the standards of eternity within any connection made, any promise spoken, seals made. The shapeshifter deity existed in this same eternity, ingrained within the bloodstream of the ground they sat upon, the air they breathed. The very mountains they lay nestled between remained with integrity to their protective force promised upon the feeble villages below to stay off evils that endured for centuries.

TO WHAT END, THEN, WOULD HE KEEP HERS?

❝ Never change. ❞

#(thinking emoji)#dokuhai #[ ginran ] will you grow from the sorrow in me; the winter in us?#[ verse: inari ] he would name himself trickster; demon; before claiming divinity #[ drabble ] his silver tongue weaves words; but he doesn’t lie

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lil-scoot-toot · 5 years

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There is Road Left in Both of Our Shoes - Pt 2 -

Here is part 2 of my Julian Devorak x my OC Persephone fan fic. May or may not get a little spicy (like just a little mild spice the real spice will be in part 3). I will stress again that it’s fairly non canonical/not congruent with the timeline in the game because I wanted to make some changes to things that go down later and I just thought it added a little more zest. Will Percy forgive Julian? How will she prove his innocence? Find out the answer to some of these questions and others if you’re interested. Also sorry to mobile users idk how to make the read more work on mobile because I am old and don’t understand technology

Part 1

Chapter 2:

“Well that sure was something.” A familiar voice chimed from the back room.

“Asra,” I spun to face him my cheeks growing hot from embarrassment as I attempted to wipe away the rest of my tears, “how long have you been there?”

“Not long but… Long enough.” He leaned on the door frame, Faust curling around his left arm. “Fight.” She cooed, looking at me and then back at Asra.

“It seemed as if Ilya was trying to tell you something important.” Asra set his things out on the counter, his cool demeanor only serving to make me feel more ashamed at my lack of levelheadedness.

“Yeah that he can’t save himself on his own.” I couldn’t bring myself to meet Asra’s gaze as he glided casually around the shop placing new items here and there. Judging by the pensive look on his face he was trying to choose his next words wisely.

“That may be true,” He started, adjusting a display of various crystals, “but I don’t think that’s all, and I think you know that too.”

“Well he’s gone again anyway.” I replied flatly but Julian’s sorrowful face flashed in my mind. It didn’t erase the hurt I was feeling but could I really just leave him for dead?

“Hmm,” Asra shrugged. “We both know Ilya has a way of pushing people away at the worst times but in all the years I’ve known him I’ve never seen him admit he needed help. He’s a whirlwind Persephone, and this is part of the game he plays. Play along and you may get hurt again but if he’s reaching out, he must be rather desperate. It’s more than just a lonely heart on the line for him.”

Asra was right, as always. He was practically reading my mind. He often had a way of knowing exactly what I was thinking. Even if I was still hurting because of Julian, and I would make it clear to him that I was, I couldn’t just let him hang for a crime he did not commit. I made a promise to help him and a promise to find the truth for Nadia and there was no way I could go back on either of those. Knowing I had to move fast I rushed up the stairs to get dressed. Julian’s black gloves lay strewn on my bed, next to where he had been leaning against the head rest. At least they would make it easier to find him.

“Y’know Asra, as much as I appreciate your wisdom and all that you’ve done for me sometimes this stoic know it all act gets old.” I grumbled when I came back down. Asra just laughed and told me to be careful as I rushed out the door and onto the night streets of Vesuvia. Holding the gloves tightly in my hands, I focused my energy, letting myself be guided by the warm pull of my magic. I weaved in and out of alleyways and dimly lit areas. Of course he would have to hide he wasn’t even wearing his mask when he got to the shop. Clouds concealed any light the moon or stars would have provided but that didn’t stop me. Instead I relied on my magic, like an invisible string pulling me forward. Focusing all I could on finding Julian and not tripping over loose cobblestones or any other obstacles in my path I kept a steady pace. I was surprised that I was being pulled deeper into the city rather than out of it, but it all made sense when I arrived at the Rowdy Raven.

Of course, he’d be here. I tried to push down the memory of the last time Julian and I were at the pub. We had so much fun together, drinking and dancing the night away before we had to make our escape to Mazelinka’s. I couldn’t remember there ever being a time that I had so much fun… Though I couldn’t really remember much before the past three years. It was fun learning magic and working with Asra but since the moment I’d met Julian the world just seemed more colorful and exciting. The bouncer outside the bar eyed me curiously as I stood just a few steps away from the door, trying to work up the courage to step inside. I knew if I could swallow my pride Julian would sweet talk his way right back into my heart, not that he ever really left in that sense, but how long would it be before he decided to take matters into his own hands again… And what if we really couldn’t prove his innocence? What if he wasn’t innocent at all? No, somehow, somewhere deep within me I knew Julian wasn’t responsible for Count Lucio’s death whether he believed it or not. I took a deep breath, did my best to center myself, and made my way inside, giving a small nod to the bouncer as he opened the door for me.

For a moment as I scanned the room, I feared that maybe my magic had led me astray. There were plenty of rough looking customers arguing, laughing, drinking, it was difficult to see past the rowdy crowd. My stomach did a backflip once I caught a glimpse of that unruly auburn hair and unmistakable lanky figure tucked away at a back, corner table. Julian was slumped over a pint of beer, several empty mugs spread out in front of him. Even from across the room I could see a deep red tinge across his face. He was drunk.

“Don’t look at me like that!” He shouted, his words drawn out and dramatic from his drunken state. At first, I believed him to be addressing me but as I approached, I realized Malak was perched on the centerpiece of the table. He replied with a caw and stretched his wings. “You can’t judge me, you’re just a bird.” Julian slurred in response, which seemed to offend Malak somehow as he took this opportunity to hop up to a nearby windowsill and soar outside. “Oh, sure just leave me here! I deserve to be alone anyway.” Julian knocked back the rest of his drink leaning so far back in his chair I thought he might fall but miraculously he kept his balance. When he sat back up to slam his now empty pint on the table, he finally noticed me.

“Doctor.” I approached the table slowly; my nerves were starting to get the best of me. It was so much easier to just be angry than to try to deal with the hurt and concern that was bubbling up within me every time I looked at him. I knew he was hurting but so was I.

“Percy please just say my name.” He peered up at me from his seat, desperation painted on his face beneath his drunken blush. Something about the way he looked at me in this moment made my heart race. I wanted so badly to kiss him, wanted him to know that even if I was pissed at him beyond belief, I still cared. Instead I stared at the ground before speaking, fiddling with one of the knots that kept my shirt closed.

“Julian.” I sighed, shaking my head as I decided to have a seat across from him at the table, unsure what to say. “Julian I…”

“It sounds like music coming from your lips.” He interrupted closing his eye and leaning back in the chair again, this time kicking his feet up onto the table and knocking over a few of the empty pints. “I’m a fool, Percy. A fool for ever leaving. A fool for thinking I could do this on my own. A fool for falling for you and pulling you into all this mess.” He put the back of his hand to his head dramatically as he spoke. If I didn’t know his pension for the dramatic I would’ve assumed he was acting.

“You’re a mess.” I teased, causing a smile to creep across his face.

“I am. You don’t even know the half of it.” He laughed half-heartedly, before calling the bartender for another drink. “Actually, make it two!” His voice boomed through the bar as he held up a gold coin and planted his feet back onto the ground with a loud thud. The bartender was quick to respond bringing over two more pints of whatever it was he was drinking which from the looks and smell was most likely Salty Bitters. “Here, one for you!” He reached across the table to offer me the drink, spilling some in the process, though he didn’t seem to notice.

“Thanks, Julian.” Our fingers brushed as I took the mug into my own hands and as soon as I set it down Julian reached across the table again, this time taking both my hands in his and giving them a gentle squeeze. I couldn’t help but blush as he raised my fingertips to his lips, planting a few soft pecks before deciding to speak again.

“I didn’t only come back because I need help, Percy.” Suddenly his voice seemed much more somber than before, as if he had found a moment of clarity between the waves of drunkenness. “I came back because… Well I… That is to say um…” He looked directly into my eyes, letting my hands slip out of his grasp. “Jeez you’re really going to make me say it aren’t you?” He laughed nervously, running his fingers through his hair. I had to admit watching him squirm like this did bring me a strange sense of joy and yes, I did want to hear him say for himself all the reasons he returned.

“Why don’t we finish these drinks and get out of here hm? I know a cozy little place not too far from here.” He waggled his eyebrows and I couldn’t help but laugh.

I drank as quickly as I could, also opting to down the rest of his as I didn’t think he needed any more alcohol in his system. Then we carefully made our way out of the tavern and over to Mazelinka’s.

“She said she’d be away for a few days, gathering spices and herbs from somewhere or something.” Julian traced his hand along the top of the door frame before pulling down a key. At least this was definitely better than trying to sneak in through the window and stepping on her flowers again.

“You must’ve really been listening when she told you.” I teased as he ducked through the doorway. In a flash he grabbed my hand and pulled me inside, closing the door behind me so he could push me up against it, moving so quickly it caused a gasp to escape my lips.

“My thoughts may have been preoccupied.” He rested a hand on the door just above my head so he could lean down to whisper in my ear. “Forgive me, dear, for everything.” His breath warm and familiar, sent a jolt of electricity through my body.

I let my arms rest on his shoulders, tilting my head so he could kiss and nibble at my neck, working his way down to my collarbone, his hair tickling me every so often.

“It will take more than that to make it up to me.” I huffed, though I allowed him to continue. His movements were desperate as he undid the knots holding my blouse together. His hand, ice cold, danced across the exposed space under my bellybutton, dangerously close to the hem of my pants.

“Kiss me.” His voice was a husky growl. It was more of a request than a demand and I jumped at the opportunity to take control.

“Maybe if you say please.” I winked playfully, tracing my fingers down the back of his neck and then along his collarbones, and down his exposed chest. Immediately his pink drunken blush changed to a nearly crimson red, but I could see that I had sparked a fire in him.

“Please.” He continued to place sloppy kisses all over my neck and chest, sometimes opting to lightly bite at my ear.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” I tried to keep a straight face, hiding my reactions as he started to work on unbuttoning my undershirt. Every kiss, every touch, drove me crazy. I wanted him, but not as much as I wanted to hear him beg.

“Please, please kiss me. I-“

“Ahem!” We both jumped as someone cleared their throat to get our attentions. Julian was wide eyed but did not turn around and though I couldn’t see past him I knew it was Mazelinka.

“Oh, Mazelinka I uh thought you were out for the weekend.” Julian stammered, still refusing to turn to face her.

“Well I returned early after all. What did you think just because I was out of town you could turn my home into your own personal love shack? At least you used the door for once.” She scolded as I did my best to hide myself. Julian however quickly gained his composure, turning to sweet talk Mazelinka who stood arms crossed and eyebrow raised in annoyance as he tried to explain himself out of this situation. As he did this, I quickly tied up my shirt and took a moment to ground myself.

“Great to see you by the way sweetie.” Mazelinka ignored Julian’s rambling, looking past him to greet me with a smile.

“You too Mazelinka, sorry for the intrusion.” I put my hands together and gave a small bow. The least I could do was be respectful.

“Oh, don’t you worry about it, I know it’s all Ilyushka’s doing. Always showing up here unannounced.” She shot him a glare, if looks could kill he’d at least be mortally wounded. “It’s late so there’s no point in sending you out into the streets. Take the bed in the backroom.” Mazelinka seemed too tired to scold Julian any longer and made her way back to her own room.

“Yeesh well that was er… Uncomfortable to say the least.” Julian flashed a cheesy grin at me. “I just adore your tough guy act but you’re really so cute when you blush.”

“Shut up!” I started to push Julian towards the bedroom but there was no hiding it, I was completely mortified.

“It’s probably for the best anyway. I may have had a few too many.” Julian groaned as he plopped onto the bed. Without him asking, I began to pull his boots off for him. “You’re a doll.” The sincere face he made as he said this caused butterflies to erupt in my stomach. I couldn’t believe it was even possible for someone to look at me that way.

“I’m just ready for bed.” I yawned moving on to remove my top and pants, folding them neatly and placing them atop Julian’s boots in the corner of the tiny room. Despite the activities which had just transpired I felt a bit too exposed in my underclothes and quickly made my way under the sheets. Julian’s lanky body took up most of the twin sized bed and I did my best to squeeze in and find a comfortable position, finally settling on being the little spoon, facing away from him. Once I was still, his slender arm snaked around my waist, pulling me closer. Julian kissed the back of my head a few times and for a few moments we were silent, savoring each other’s warmth, company, and safety.

“Julian.” I called to him to see if he was still awake. I couldn’t shake the creeping feeling in my stomach.

“Yes, Percy?” The lilt of his sleepy voice was so sweet and calm. I could tell he was completely exhausted. Truthfully, I had so many questions for him. How far had he traveled out of the city and where had he gone? It must’ve been difficult returning to Vesuvia with the weight of his wanted status on his shoulders. I could feel what was left of my anger subsiding further as I considered what he might’ve gone through over the past two months.

“Please, be here when I wake up.” I was glad he couldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes at the thought of him disappearing again but there was no denying the quiver of my voice. I wanted to believe that this time he would stay, wanted to believe that I knew what he meant to say but kept avoiding at the shop and in the tavern, but I couldn’t push away the thoughts that I was wrong or that he would change his mind. Weren’t we both trouble after all? Two people who couldn’t even remember years of their lives, hard-headed and dramatic, and impulsive. Could we make it work? Could we prove his innocence, and would Nadia even accept it if we did or would she simply have us both killed? I didn’t want to think about him dying but the thought kept bubbling up, the image of him hanging…-

“Of course. Of course.” He squeezed me tight pulling me from my worries.

“Promise me?” My voice was meek, I didn’t want to ask too much of him, didn’t want him to push me away again but I needed to hear it from his mouth.

“I promise.”

#the arcana #the arcana fanfic #julian devorak #julian devorak x apprentice #by me

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redpepperlips · 5 years

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How I met my Fiancé

Many of you wanted me to do a blog post on how I met my Fiancé. To be honest, this journey was never easy, we’ve been through a lot but it wasn’t shown, or maybe it did but it wasn’t obvious enough. I met my Fiancé through Xxx , to me, it was all about finding someone to chat with ; an accompanyment. That’s how my impression to my Fiancé was like initially, I did not give much hope, just chat and let nature take its course. We decided to meet up, 2 days before Valentine’s day, to even catch 50 Shades Darker on our first meet in Platinum Suite @ Cathay Cineleisure. He even gave me 1 stalk of Preserved Red Rose & a card stating “You have my number, so call me maybe?” & I still remember he ordered Basil Chicken Rice & Red Wine (And gave me the red wine after the movie ended). Come to think of it now, he don’t even drink.... Yes so after the movie, he sent me home via cab & went home himself after. Our conversation got mundane and dry after the first meetup, a normal reaction of an insecurity me goes “Yeah you don’t like me after you’ve seen me in real life right ?” And his reply was like a very boring no , a very different vibe from before we’ve met. Maybe I was just thinking too much & I felt so devastated I started an argument to ask him to stop texting me further. But things proved otherwise, we met up a few times more and this time, I guessed our feelings were mutual then. 2 Days before my Birthday, we went to Universal Studios Singapore. It was really awkward, until we rode Human & I told him I was very scared whilst on the ride, he led out his hand and I held his hand throughout the whole ride. We didn’t let go of our hands till we reached my house. Bid goodbye & thats where we both confirmed our relationship to be together as a couple (20th February 2017). The honeymoon period begins, until one day he decided to bring me home to his mum, I had a tattoo on my forearm, two on my back & I don’t bothering covering it up for the one on my forearm because afterall, every of his family members will have to accept me for who I am & not just base on my appearance, I got judged & was told to not go up to his house again. I was really hurt, but he assured me that everything will be ok eventually because his mum was more traditional. Things went up and down, sometimes his mum was ok to me, sometimes she was not. I did told him my unhappiness and I nearly gave up this relationship. It was too much for me, like I live not to please others, why can’t she just accept the way I am & not thinking that I’m some Ahlian that will led her son astray ? Things do get better eventually, but when I was allowed in their house again, for the first few times, I kept on wearing long sleeves shirt / dress to cover myself up. Not easy I will say, but anything to leave a good impression for his Mum. One day, I decided not to cover myself up anymore & bravely went up to their house. Surprisngly, his mum did not say anything, everything went smoothly, me and my Fiancé still argue sometimes, but due to other matters. 1 Year plus had passed & I felt like ok, he should be the one for me and so we decided to sign up a Wedding Photoshoot Package & placed a deposit. The very excited me went on to google on their reviews / photos etcetc & was telling him how excited I felt because it will be with him and it was like my dream came true. Him on the other hand, doesn’t felt the same way like I do, we quarreled really badly as he mentioned, he didn’t think of such future plans because he wanted to focus on his studies first. I thought that he would be as excited as me but in return, I got his cold shoulder instead. In the back of my mind, this guy was not ready for the future, why should I be bothered with creating a future with him ? Again, I nearly gave up this relationship. After we’ve cooled down, I never mentioned about the Wedding Photoshoot with him, ever again. We just went on with our lives as per normal, living life happily & during around Dec 2018, he asked if I wanted to try applying BTO with him. We did, but we didn’t managed to get to our ideal unit. We gave up our choice & decided to wait till the next one comes along. This was when business get serious as he had also completed his studies. He kept emphasizing that he will want to secure a house first, before talking about wedding plans. He even said, if we did managed to get our first-applied BTO unit, he will propose to me in Japan & when we didn’t managed to get what we wanted, I knew he wasn’t going to propose anymore, not expecting anything but I knew I had to wait longer, it’s fine with me. One month ago, we went to Japan with his group of friends for their Graduation Trip for 11 days. On Day 3, we went to Tokyo Disneysea. Nothing suspicious from him or his friends, everything was normal. The act was indeed very good. We had our dinner & after dinner, his friend’s Gf told us to remember to go see the Fireworks at 8.30pm and that she will see us there (He wanted to propose there, in front of such a huge crowd). To me, it was nothing special, in my mind “Aiya, I get to see for the whole month of every Saturday before the actual National Day, what’s so interesting ? Never see before Fireworks meh?” So I heck care & went shopping, it was quiet indeed & that was the best time I can do my shopping peacefully without having to squeeze with the crowd. Shops were one after another & I told my Fiancé that I’m going one after another. Normally, he will let me do the shopping until I’m done, but this time he said “HUH YOU WENT SO MANY & YOU’RE NOT DONE ?” I did not care & went on cause I’m stubborn like that. Finally I’m done & it was already 9.30pm, his friend was like “If we don’t speed up, we will need to cab back to our hotel already” I was ok cause it was already kinda late. My Fiancé told his friends that we should take a group photo and find somewhere where there is not so many people, we gathered in front of the Disneysea’s globe. Since the rest were packing their buys from Disneysea, my Fiancé told his friend to help the both of us take a photo first. After taking the photo, he told me to wait and not to go off first, I thought the rest were going to join us for a photo & asking a stranger to take a photo for us. NO, he questioned me “Just now you asked me what’s my dream right ?” Oh & because I bought a Stellalou Popcorn Bucket & there’s this quote “What is your dream?” Such coincidence !! There, he took out the Photo Frame, a Rose Stalk Ring Box, kneeled down & pop the question “Will you marry me ?” I cried in tears of joy, I was trembling and didn’t expect him to propose !! I was very touched & surprised. I was lost for words. Even those passerbys clapped for us, I didn’t know what to say! Yes, thats when we got engaged on 12th June 2019. :’) Coming back to SG with a different status, it was really memorable & it will be forever in my heart. I really didn’t expect such surprise & I really want to thank his friends for all the effort & time in planning this. :) :) And for now, we are very happily engaged. Planning for our future together & nope, I am not pregnant by any chance. :) P/s: Did you know, I was his first girlfriend ? *Giggles*

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a-gay-bloodmage · 6 years

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—Princess—

Pairing: Sera x Female Trevelyan

Pairing Type: F/F

Words: 2,227

Warnings: Okay This Was Cute, Orlesian Parties Call For Princess-y Dresses Okay, Vivienne is a Very Good Friend, and has a Great Eye For Good Ball Dresses

Sure, Kiora had a fancy-pants last name, but Sera didn't think of her as a nob. She was magic, first of all, and she was a little dopey and dumb and sweet and nothing like the shrewd bastards with razor-sharp gazes she allegedly came from.

Kiora always wore robes that fit just right—fabric was stretched to accommodate her big bust, falling gracefully to cover but still show her pudgy tummy, and pulled tight again over wide hips and a perfect butt, the ends of the fabric pooling just a little at her toes. She liked silver jewelry, her dangly silver earrings and pretty silver necklace both decorated with beautiful violet gemstones the same colour as her strange violet eyes. But, for all the beauty that she had, she didn't look noble. She looked like she could stand alongside people like Vivienne, all dolled up for fancy-pants nobles but stuck in robes and gossiped about behind their pretty, magical backs.

Sera honestly never thought she'd see Kiora in anything but her usual clothing.

Halamshiral was one thing, and seeing Kiora in anything but a black or dark purple robe was jarring. She looked horribly uncomfortable in the pants Josephine had forced her into, unable to walk properly for hours. Her usual dark purple eye shadow and lip colour didn't really go with the blue, yellow, and red, but Sera knew she needed something to tie the horrible outfit to her typical getup. The poor little mage was not supposed to be in pants. That was probably Mage Rule Number One. No pants, ever.

After Coryphe-whatsit was dead, and the Mage-Templar war was, for the most part, ended, a lot of nobles were aching to meet the chubby little mage that had closed the Breach and saved their asses. Which meant attending parties, and a lot of them. Sera was always on Kiora's arm, her constant companion in the fight against boredom.

And with Sera and Kiora was Vivienne. She loved attending parties with the Inquisitor, and was getting better at tolerating Sera's lack of social graces. Kiora was actually a wonderful student when it came to learning the art of the ballroom, and Vivienne was delighted by the fact. It could've been her thirteen years of nobility before the Circle that made her such a quick learner, but Sera doubted it. Kiora was just naturally a passive people-pleaser—something nobles loved powerful mages to be.

"Alright, my dear," Vivienne said, clasping her hands together. "Duke Délavé will expect our darling Inquisitor to be in only the finest of dresses!"

Kiora audibly groaned, making Sera laugh. The two of them were bored out of their minds—especially Sera. She didn't want to go to some fancy ball thrown by some fancy Orlesian nob.

Vivienne sighed, shaking her head. Her smile was still present under her exasperation. She liked Kiora a lot despite the younger mage's soft indifference to most of her lessons. Kiora liked spending time with Vivienne, not nobles. "Well, my dear, remember that appearance is as powerful as any magic," Vivienne said, her hands on Kiora's shoulders. She directed Kiora's gaze into the mirrors in front of them. Her soft, dark brown hands contrasted sharply with Kiora's pale, waxen skin, holding her like she was a chubby little porcelain doll.

Sera was currently lounging on one of the excessively decorated fainting couches in Duke What's-his-Name's guest bedroom, Kiora's cat Miss Match napping on her stomach. Kiora's cats were great for keeping Sera's hands busy with petting while she was forced to sit through boring little talks. Well, she wasn't actually forced to be here, she just wanted to see what nonsense Vivienne would put Kiora in.

"Aren't my robes nice enough?" Kiora asked, looking down at her chest. They were beautiful, really, their dark colour and flowy fabric. Sera couldn't help but say something in her lady's defense.

"Yeah, Viv," she said, making the cat on her stomach wake up with a little murp sound. "She's already friggin' beautiful. Why stuff her in some fancy-pants dress?"

Vivienne raised a perfect eyebrow. "Everything in a court is about appearance, dear Sera," she said. "Have you never paid a second of attention?" Her light eyes quickly flickered over Sera's body. "It's obvious you've never applied my advice."

Sera rolled her eyes. Who cares what some nob-ish mage thinks? She thought, sticking her tongue out. "Whatever. It's not like she has to climb some dumb social ladder. She's the Inquisitor."

Kiora nodded in agreement.

Vivienne sighed, leaning a little more of her weight onto the shorter mage. "Well, it could be fun, then," she said, her full, pretty lips quirking up in a smile. "I won't stuff you into heels, dear."

"Well..." Kiora looked back and smiled at Vivienne. "You haven't led me astray yet, Vivienne..." Vivienne's smile was genuine. "But I will need a cigar first."

• • ♡ • •

Vivienne was mad. Utterly mad.

Sera had come along with her into the massive closet that had been stocked for the noblewomen visiting the Orlesian Duke's court, apparently kept so that those coming from other nations would fit into the Orlesian ballroom. Sera thought it was a whole lot of wasteful nonsense, and Kiora's shock at the mass of dresses seemed to indicate she, too, thought it was absurd. Nobles obviously did everything they could to spend their gold.

"Now," Vivienne said, almost gliding as she pushed Sera and Kiora down deeper into the closet. "Obviously, we'll be sticking to the violets and blacks." Vivienne smiled a little as she shook her head. "What is it you find so fascinating about a funeral's colour scheme?"

Kiora laughed in her adorable, whispery laugh, shrugging. Smoke from her elfroot cigar curled from her pretty purple-painted lips, and made the room smell less like slightly aged fabric and more like incense. "It's comfortable... And it works with my... complexion?"

It was adorable seeing her try to speak Vivienne's language.

"The purple does match your undereyes," Vivienne said, amused. Kiora didn't bother getting offended. "And Sera, dear, do tell me if you see anything that catches your eye."

Sera looked at the light dresses they passed, and figured she'd drown in all the fabric. Her thin frame would hardly fill out all the space nobles left for hips and tits. But they were pretty.

"Oh, Vivienne," Kiora said, halting Sera and Vivienne in their tracks. She had her cigar between her teeth, hands wandering over a lovely bit of purple fabric. Violet silk was mixed with black velvet, pinching it were the waist would be and flaring out, its neckline low and back exposed. As much as Kiora distanced herself from the nobility she came from, it was obvious she was in love.

"That is quite the design," Vivienne remarked, taking the dress from its place among the others and holding it in her hands. Sera was impressed. Someone must have spent forever on the damn thing. She held it up against Kiora's body. "And it does look like it may fit if I pull it right..." She nodded. "Should we look for some secondary options?" The dress was enveloped in a film of white magic, left hovering just behind the Knight Enchanter.

They ended up with two more dresses for Kiora to try on, both of them—of course—violet and black.

As they were walking back to the chambers from the depths of the tulle-filled hell, Sera couldn't help but get her eye caught on something yellow and covered in lace.

Kiora noticed her stall, and stopped to follow Sera's eyes. "Ooh," she cooed, touching the yellow fabric. "Wouldn't she look nice in yellow, Vivienne?"

"She would," Vivienne said, eyes narrowed in thought, staring at Sera as opposed to the dress. She pulled the dress from its placement, letting it hover with the others. There was no way she was finishing this day off without getting stuffed in it.

Kiora wrapped her chubby arms around Sera's slender frame, cigar making the air warm in addition to her body heat. Maker, Kiora was like a human heat pad.

• • ♡ • •

Vivienne kicked Sera out of the room as soon as she made Kiora start trying on her dresses.

Is this what grooms feel like before weddings? She thought, sighing as she laid down on a crevice, holding her dress. Ugh, I just wanna see tadwinks in that dress... After a second, she felt herself blush. Here she was, thinking about wedding stuff. Slow down, Sera.

She felt a sharp little paw on her arm, and looked down to see a chubby little black cat, one green and one blue eye staring at her.

"You got booted out, too?" She asked, laughing a little as she gave the little cat a pat on the head. Miss' sad little meow was an obvious yes. "Viv's so serious about all this nob shite..." She rolled her eyes. Over the years, Sera had gotten along with Vivienne better. Kiora really liked the Knight Enchanter, so Sera sort of got swept along in the liking. Vivienne wasn't that bad. She was just serious about really boring things, and thought Templars were necessary. Kiora had made it obvious they weren't, but they kept their disagreements civil and quiet.

She felt like she was in that hallway for hours before Vivienne finally pulled her into an adjacent room, setting her in front of an equally opulent and ugly Orlesian mirror.

"It's nice to see that perhaps this boyish style of yours can mature, Sera, dear," she said, smiling to either Sera or herself. Probably herself.

"Hey, dresses are cool, just, you know, not for kicking butt," she shrugged. She doubted she would be a good Jenny if she was always tripping over fancy fabric. "So I don't wear 'em."

"Well, I doubt any ass-kicking will happen tonight," Vivienne laughed in her low, rich, courtly laugh. "And if need be, you are accompanied by two very talented mages."

Sera rolled her eyes. She could be as damsel-in-distress-y she wanted with Vivienne and Kiora around.

"Alright, off with the clothes." Vivienne had a talent for making a command sound like a polite inquiry you were compelled to follow. Like Josephine.

"Hey, I'm a committed lady," Sera laughed, easily pulling off her top, then toeing off her boots, then pulling off her leggings. "No wandering eyes, Viv."

"Wouldn't dream of it." She held the yellow dress in her hands, observing it closely and with the eye of a true veteran of the court. "Well built, very slimming and simple," she said to herself, nodding. "Yes, this will do quite well for you." She looked up to Sera and gave a soft smile. "Excellent choice."

Sera hated that Vivienne's praise made her face heat up.

It was a bit of a process to get on the seemingly simple dress, the straps and lace and under layers and all sorts incredibly hard to keep track of. Especially to someone as inexperienced as Sera. Vivienne had to force her to sit to brush her messy blonde hair, apply neat charcoal around her eyes, and oil to her lips. It was hardly a touch of makeup, but when Sera looked in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. She looked almost wealthy, like a dressed-up doll.

She really wanted to see what Kiora looked like, but Vivienne said she'd have to wait until the ball.

What utter bullshit.

• • ♡ • •

Sera rushed into the ballroom as fast as she could, not caring about how many offended nobles she nearly bumped into. She had to find her tadwinks.

A bob of unusually smooth black hair caught her eye, and she bolted over.

"Tadwinks!"

Kiora turned around, and smiled open-mouthed when she saw Sera.

"You... look like a princess!" They both said at the same time, standing dead still.

"Sera! Your dress!" Kiora was in awe, her hands on Sera after a second, feeling the soft fabric and lace. "It's beautiful! You're beautiful!" Her voice was still that sleepy whisper, but it was obvious she was excited.

"Speak for yourself!" Sera laughed, grabbing Kiora's soft, round face. Vivienne had made an attempt to fix Kiora's messy eyebrows, and her makeup was incredible. Smoky purple eye shadow, slightly powered face, blushing cheeks, and dark violet lips. Her silver earrings dangled amongst her brushed hair.

Her long silver necklace laid against her large chest, falling just above her generous cleavage. The dress' neckline showed off said cleavage wonderfully, and her shoulders were on display in all their wonderful softness. Her waist curved in a little more than usual, and the dress flared out in violet silk until it pooled on the floor.

She really did look like a princess. A beautiful, beautiful princess.

They spent the rest of the night ignoring nobles and convincing Vivienne to dance with them, no matter how bad they were. When Kiora spun, her dress flared out. And Sera really liked to spin her.

She was winded and covered in dark purple lipstick by the time the party winded down, her mask-less face showing off the princess's kisses to the most jealous Orlesians she'd ever seen. Sera's princess was hers and hers alone, and she was quite planning on keeping it that way forever.

#femslashfeb2019 #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #da Vivienne #da sera #da inquisitor #sera x inquisitor #kiora trevelyan #fanfiction #original content #finished with less than half an hour to spare!!#fuck yeah!!#anyway: enjoy!#last fic of FSF!! Holy shit!! I did it!!#oh my GOD i'm so happy

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castielbemyhalo · 6 years

Text

What Once Was But Will Never Be

"I'm turning in for the night," Sam said; his back protesting from remaining in the same position for hours, "don't stay up too late, alright?"

"Okay mom, sure thing." Dean said with an eye roll.

Sam huffed in amusement. "Night!" He shouted from down the hall.

"Night." Dean replied audibly to his brother.

"Maybe I'll do better in the morning." He sighed, stifling a yawn.

It wasn't long before the saddening thoughts of the helpless young boy silenced him into a dreamless state of slumber.

"Carmen?" Dean asked aloud.

"M-mom?" He stuttered into the receiver.

Sam groggily rolled over to check the time; 10:30 AM.

"Shit." He grumbled as he swung his legs over the bed.

"I'll let him sleep a bit." He thought as he headed to the kitchen for some breakfast.

The warming smell of oatmeal flooded the library, sending Sam straight to the microwave for his meal. He was surprisingly famished, despite that he had eaten dinner last night. He opened the door to the microwave and steam bellowed from it, almost burning his skin. Before he could burn anything else, he quickly rushed back to the library and slid it onto the table. His mouth was watering just from the smell alone as he lightly blew across the top of the bowl. He tried to concentrate on the lore while his bowl cooled, hoping it would distract his stomach, that was currently nipping at his sides. His brother had left one book open at a Japanese creature called the Baku. From the looks of it, he had a head start with some phone calls with the victims' families as well, based on some sticky notes that were stuck above the book. The first one read: Nightmares for months without end; no known mental illnesses. The others seemed to have the same information written on them except for the last one, which had an extra bullet on it: “Mother heard him murmuring aloud at night sometimes, told her the following morning that he was talking to his friend the 'Batu'; Heard it from his friends in his religious instruction classes.” Well it definitely fit right into the lore; the Batu was called upon if a child was distressed from a nightmare. It would literally eat the child's nightmares, in exchange for a peaceful night. The lore didn't really specify anything else except for other rituals and ways to protect one's child from one. Sam set the book back on the table and reached for his laptop, which was where it normally was, at least when he would sit with Dean while they did their research. He opened it up and took a large spoonful of the oatmeal, making satisfied noises as he enjoyed each bite slowly. The computer softly hummed the boot up noise and Sam leaned forward, mentally preparing himself for another period of lengthy research once again.

An hour later Sam pushed the chair away from the table in defeat. There was nothing that could suggest why or how a Batu takes or kills its victims.

"Maybe Dean knows something I don't." Sam said as he walked towards his sibling's dormitory.

He was surprised that he wasn't awake already, it was almost noon! He knocked audibly on Dean's door, hoping he was at least getting ready.

"Dean? You awake?" Not even a rustling came from the room in response, which worried him.

Dean was in the same position that Sam had found him in earlier, one arm was still thrown across his stomach and the other dangling from the bedside. His covers were still the same, as if he hadn’t moved at all. He rushed to check for any signs of life.

"Alright, pulse... is slower..? He's breathing.." Sam said aloud.

He checked for any signs of discomfort, a temperature, visible wounds.... There was nothing to be found.

It didn't make sense, he wasn't waking up. And there was no reason he should have be unresponsive, at least that Sam could see. He shook him forcefully and repetitively slapped his face.

"Hey Dean, buddy, wake up."

Still no response, not even a twitch or an eye movement. He was still except for his brother frantically shaking him.

"Dean!"

"Hey mom." He wavered as she welcomed him inside.

"Hey sweetie, what's wrong? You look upset.." Mary said as she closed the door with one hand and caressed his face with the other.

"Shhhhh, honey it's okay." Mary hushed as she rubbed his back repetitively; she pushed him away gently to see his distraught face. "Hey, sweetie... Talk to me, what's wrong?"

Dean sniffled and wiped the tears away as he regained his posture. He drew in a deep breath and absently ran his hands through his shadow.

"It's nothing." -Mary gave him a bitch face- "No really, it's nothing, I promise. I just.." He trailed off momentarily, "...haven't seen you in a while, that's all."

"Yes, yes I'm sure mom. My mistake, should have told you." Dean reassured. "I just felt a little homesick, that's all."

"I think I understand dear... Did you call into work this morning?" Mary asked.

Work? Yeah, definitely the last thing on his mind.

"Yeah, I called. I just needed to be home again.. You know?" The word sounded so alienated coming from his vocal cords; home.

"Well I'll be cooking some breakfast if you need anything, alright?" Mary said softly.

"Alright mom." He said.

She caressed his cheek and Dean leaned into her touch.

"And I mean anything." She added sincerely.

"Okay." Dean replied with a slightly annoyed expression.

Mary smiled deeply and walked into the kitchen. Couldn't someone just miss home?

"Cas, I-I don't know what to do! He won't wake up a-and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him!" Sam exclaimed as he sat down.

"And you've tried waking him?" Cas parroted, bending down to Dean's still form.

Sam gave him the bitch face causing Cas to raise his hands up in defense.

"Just checking."

"He seems to be dreaming." Cas said, opening his eyes to an alert Sam behind him.

"He's dreaming? Well then why can't I wake him up?!" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Cas replied arrogantly.

"Couldn't you... wake him up or something?" Sam impatiently asked.

"I could try, but I can't promise he'll wake up."

"Damnit Cas, you scared the shit out of me!" Dean quietly shouted as he unballed his fists.

"You need to wake up Dean." Cas stated firmly, ignoring the scare he gave his friend.

"What? Why? Is something wrong?" He asked.

"We don't know yet, but you aren't waking up. That's normally not a good sign." Cas replied urgently, afraid something might happen.

"How do I wake up?"

"I'm normally not well informed on the human brain, but you should be able to command yourself to be awake if you're aware that you're asleep." Cas informed briefly.

"Cas, nothing's working! What's going on?!"

"I don't know, but it looks like you're trapped." He grinned and suddenly shifted into Dean’s mother.