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pure-garbage · 5 months ago

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Intense Practice! Unconditional Trust And The Sword Catch Technique

Chapter Warnings: Violence

With the benefit of hindsight, Lana felt silly that she'd spent so much time too shy to admit her feelings to Zoro. Her concerns that the crew's dynamics might shift for worse were laid to rest in the weeks that followed their first, chaste little kiss behind Nami's grove. With the exception of some moping on Sanji's part, the teasing was the worst of the fallout after everyone caught onto what was going on between Lana and Zoro.

Zoro's now explicit trust in Lana, however, had its drawbacks.

"Zoro, are you... are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely. Do it."

"Really?"

"Yep. Let's go."

Zoro cracked his knuckles, relaxed his posture and closed his eyes.

"Now, Lana, do it," he prompted.

"Um..."

Lana faced him down, palms sweating around Yubashiri's hilt.

"Okay..."

"She raised the sword, but couldn't quite overcome her hesitation.

"Can't you at least open your eyes?" she whined. "Or we could try it with a stick first or something... I know! I can borrow Nami's staff!"

"Her staff isn't sharp though," Zoro pointed out, confused.

"That's the point!"

"But there's no point in catching something that's not sharp," Zoro said, patience wearing thin. "Now swing! Come on!"

"Zoro! I'm definitely gonna slice you in half!" Lana protested.

"You said you would help me practice," he reminded her.

"I had no idea this was what you had in mind!" she snapped back.

"So what, you're gonna back out on me now? That's fine, I'll get Luff's help instead."

'Luffy won't hold back at all,' Lana lamented privately. 'He'll slice Zoro in half and maybe the Merry too!'

"I'm doing it!" Lana grumbled, steeling her nerves and bending into her stance, Yubashiri poised above her head. "Ready?"

"If I'm ready, you're too late. Just strike already!"

"Fine! Is this what you want?!"

Lana swung, but Zoro didn't budge. Yubashiri hit the deck in front of him with a sad clunk.

"You missed. Aim better," Zoro scolded her. "I trained you better than that. That was so pathetic, it was like you were trying to miss me."

"I'm pathetic?! Says the suicidal maniac begging me to cut his face off!"

"I'm not suicidal, but my boredom might drive me to it if you don't get a move on, slowpoke!"

Lana's eye twitched. Zoro's nonchalant disregard for her concern over his safety was starting to get to her.

"I'm working up to it! You don't have to be a jerk!"

"I'm falling asleep here waiting for you to work up to it," Zoro yawned, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you don't have it in you, just say so. I won't hold it against you if you wuss out."

"Grr!"

'Is he trying to get under my skin? To make me strike in anger?'

Lana took a deep breath. She lifted Yubashiri again, then brought it down swiftly on Zoro's head. He didn't open his eyes, just leaned forward, bringing his hands together in front of him in a mighty clap. Lana gasped, the vibration passing through the halted blade and ripping through her trembling arms.

She gawked at the sight as Zoro opened his eyes, Yubashiri's razor edge clasped harmlessly between his hands.

"You... you did it!" Lana gasped.

"Of course I did," he grinned. "Now, how about you see if you can catch me off guard? Oh, and swing harder this time."

Lana sighed, then smiled ruefully.

'He trusts me so much and I forgot to trust him in return.'

"Alright, Zoro. I'll try harder this time. I won't hold back, okay?"

"Perfect. Bring it on!"

Zoro released Yubashiri and stepped back, waiting.

The next day when Zoro appeared at breakfast, he drew stares from the rest of the crew.

"Damn, Zoro," Usopp remarked. "Where'd you get all the cuts?"

"What cuts? I don't have any cuts," Zoro lied grouchily.

"Psh, I guess sleeping with those swords finally caught up with you, eh moss-for-brains?" Sanji smirked.

"Nothing caught up with me, but something's about to catch you with you, you sorry-"

Zoro's comeback was cut short as Lana burst into the mess, flying at Zoro with a flurry of slashes and swipes. The air itself screamed under the duress of her vicious assault. Zoro dodged her attacks unarmed while breakfast dissolved into upheaval. Nami screamed, Usopp high-tailed it, Chopper begged them to stop, Luffy laughed and Sanji cackled.

"Guys, that looks fun! I wanna try too!" Luffy yelled. "Just gimme a minute to finish my bacon!"

"Ooh, what's this, a lover's spat?" Sanji exclaimed. "How scandalous!"

Robin alone remained unfazed, sitting calmly amidst the commotion, continuing her meal and flipping through her book with the help of a few extra hands.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Sanji, but they're just training," she corrected the cook. "They've been at it since yesterday."

Zoro ended the bout with a resounding clap. Yubashiri stopped a hair from his face, motionless between his palms. He was panting, but mustered a grin regardless as a drop of sweat rolled down his brow.

"That was good!" he announced. "You're picking this up fast! At this rate, I might actually be able to pull this move out against a serious opponent."

"Oh, I'm not serious enough for you?" Lana shot back. "Just wait til I get some grub in me! Sanji! What's for breakfast?"

"Yeah, what are we eating, cook?" Zoro demanded. "I'm starving over here!"

"It's all on the table, help yourselves," Sanji grumbled. "And keep the rough-housing out of the mess and away from the kitchen, you got that?"

___________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

#nami #sandbox adventures #roronoa zoro #one piece #oc #fanfic #usopp #luffy #pure garbage #nico robin #tony tony chopper #sanji

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crystalsamethyst · 8 months ago

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Continued:

We are starting. Will our cleric lose wish? Will that wish wording be in effect?

NOOOO HE LOST WISH!!!!!! RIP TO WISH YOU WERE A FANTASTIC SPELL!

Was this wish wording good enough? Will my husband the DM have some mercy on us?

YES WE SUMMONED HIM, HE TURNED INTO SLUG, HE FELL INTO THE ZONE, HELL YEAH, LET'S WRECK THIS DUDE.

He passed his con saves on the symbols but will still take half for the death symbol so at least there's that.

Hehehe I finally got to use this bolt of fiend slaying and did a lot of damage.

Oh shit. he dug in the ground. We did not think he could dig. He's out of the forbiddance zone. I hope he can't teleport. What the fuck. Can slugs burrow? Is that a thing they can do?

HE'S FUCKING STUNNED

BUT USES LEGENDARY RESISTANCE FUCK

I FEEL LIKE A SPORTS COMMENTATOR BUT THIS IS THE ONLY SPORT I CARE ABOUT

CLERIC CASTS DIVINE INTERVENTION AND FINALLY ROLLS RIGHT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FUCKING WEEKS AND ASKS TO BRING SLUG BOY TO THE SURFACE AND FOR THE SURFACE TO NOT BE ABE TO BE BREACHED AGAIN

This is the best fight ever lmao

Cleric's god has put a no-save levitate spell on him so he's stuck in place and can't teleport because he's back in the forbiddance zone. Hehehehehehe

Druid pulls erupting earth and does some pretty great damage even if it ends up halved! He gettin' smacked. Down. Shoulda killed us when he had the chance!

Debating on whether our druid should turn back into a dragon turtle to hit him with a breath weapon with this distance from the symbols. Lvl 18 abilities are so wild.

YESSS TO ANOTHER NAT 20 ON MY SNEAK ATTACK! 82 DAMAGE AND HE LOOKIN BLOODY!

He can't even do anything on his turn!!!! And takes damage from the symbols and forbiddance! Y'all I'm loving this fight. Good vibes everywhere. We killin Boooolzingbaallll today.

Wow our cleric is taking damage... Because of him casting a spell on Wish Sickness. Not even from the devil lord. This is great.

So. 2 symbols. Forbiddance. And now blade barrier. On this levitated slug form devil lord that can't do anything.

Our DM just informed our cleric that his simulacrum can cast diving intervention too. Like, woah. The power. Potentially, if the roll is right, as is the rule of dnd.

Druid did some great damage too, this slug is screaming. I missed on my turn but not even mad.

He's getting wrecked by all the area effects too and this is just like. So nice to watch. He kicked our asses last time and this is called satisfying retribution.

RANGER KILLED BALLBOY WITH ONE LAST BOLT. HE DEAD!

The only damage anyone took was our cleric and it was all self-inflicted and he stole the devil's soul in a soul cage! Amazing! He's gonna milk it for the 8 hours he's in his grasp. Maybe a little torture.

Cleric: The Unmaker is dead and so is Baalzebul. *dark laugh*

Rogue: That's kind of... An evil laugh you got there...

Cleric: I told him he shoulda killed me.

---

Soooo we've killed 2 lords of the 9 and 2 generals of the 9. 4 archdevils total. Fuck. Yeah.

We're gonna have a little party! We're going back to the boat on the 8th level so we can party with the people who brought us here!

Side quests have been pretty much wrapped up! Most contracts complete! I think we just need to go to the secret library to get out of Asmodeus having our souls!

---

Cleric's double got to use divine intervention fuck yeah. I have no idea why. He named it simularius (secondary Darius)

Oh my god. He's trying to get wish back at the sacrifice of the double.

His god has a counter-offer. Returning the double to its original state, including having a wish left. One. Wish.

His other potential ask is to switch out the wizard spell in his 9th spell slot to replace Wish since he can't use it anymore.

One Wish or a different spell he can cast several times? Which will he choose? He chose the Wish!

---

Strawberries and wine. The feast of champions. Next on our hit list: Asmodeus (Says Anemone)

---

We wake up. Our druid has gained claws and conversation leads to her altering her appearance to look like the cleric. My rogue wakes up, sees him, his double, and her altered self.

Rogue: Uhh, I think I drank too much. Even one of you was too much.

Cleric: Our druid is experiencing how great it feels to be me!

Rogue: *turns to cleric* how do you feel being a short and very heavy dwarf?

Cleric: Rude

Druid: *laughs but in cleric's accent*

Cleric: Hey don't you mock me!

Druid: *Still in accent* I'm not mocking. I'm accurately performing.

---

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Tiax, the crazy sorcerer first mate of the ship, is suddenly offering us 20 soul coins for Captain Kohtam's head.

I always knew he was absolutely crazy. And our DM cut it there.

D-D-D-D-DND!!! 📢🎉🎉🎉

We are on the 3rd layer of hell to figure out what to do about this submarine.

Talking about how we don't have a get out of jail free bail-out card by devil lords.

Cleric: Oh wait, I didn't take the deal! I still have one, but there's only one way she's gonna get my soul.

Rogue: With a scythe and then slurp you up Soul Eater style?

Cleric: No. *points at ring* Marriage.

Rogue: Okay we went two very different ways with that.

---

But first, we have to get remarried. Which means we have to be widowed. And it's my rogue's turn to die and then get resurrected. Rip Anemone for half a minute. In the morning.

---

We've decided to steal a book from dragons first. The same ones that tried to trick us last time and we came out on top. My rogue has volunteered to do some rogue shit so let's hope it goes smoothly because it's a 'by myself' plan.

Alright. In the cave as a frog. About to communicate to druid on the surface to transform me back so I can steal a book while the dragons are distracted cuddling again.

Aaaaaaa I did it no problem!!! Rolled basically 30 on everything so like. Frog goes in. Turns into fairy with a quick invisible cloak action. Steals book into bag of holding. Turns back into frog. Hauls ass out of there.

Rogues!

#am plays dnd #dnd #chains of asmodeus #chains of asmodeus spoilers #conclusion

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watatsumi-island · 5 years ago

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....can one of you talented people draw this please, if you can? This sounds HOT.

#tyril x mc #tyril starfury #blades of light and shadow #i'm going to miss blades next week rip

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azaleaniath · 2 years ago

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Next part is online as well!

_______________

Polaroid (Part two)

Sir Lancelot x reader

word count : 3.8k

________________

"Alright, I found something about this."

Merlin started, pointing at a side in his book. Lancelot and you looked over his shoulder, reading the lines that he was pointing at.

"If the object responsible for the event gets destroyed, there are equal chances that the person will go back to their timeline or..."

You swallowed hard, unable to read the next part.

"Will be stuck in the timeline they traveled to, eternally." The voice of Lancelot was merely a whisper.

All eyes landed on you.

"Are you willing to take the risk?" Gaius asked, taking a look at the polaroid camera again, since you had brought it with you.

"What other choice do I have?" you asked quietly.

"What about Kilgarrah?"

"He doesn't know anything else either."

You did not understand what Gaius and Merlin talked about, neither did Lancelot, but they did not intend to explain.

"So?"

"Sir Lancelot?"

You turned to him, reaching your hand out.

"Would you do me the honor?"

The knight did not know what to say. What if he would do something wrong and you would never get home again?

It took a while until he took your hand and gently gave it a squeeze. This alone caused your cheeks to blush slightly. In the last days, you had spent a lot of time around him. You found yourself growing quite fond of him after all.

"If that's your wish."

"It is."

Your eyes met his and you felt a weird shiver going through your body. For a moment you lost yourself in his handsome features.

Gaius placed the camera on the ground. Then, Lancelot drew his sword, letting go of your hand.

"What if you stay here?" He asked calmly, but there was a sad undertone in his voice.

"Guess I'll live a lie then."

He walked over to the camera, aiming his sword at it.

"And if it works, I'll head home. The place where I belong."

He smiled, then took a deep breath.

"In case you will return to your time... It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope you'll live a happy life."

Your heart started to race. Something inside you shifted.

For some reason, you suddenly did not want it to work, and neither did the knight.

Yet, he did as you asked him to do, thrusting his steel sword down to destroy the camera.

You closed your eyes as a loud shattering noise filled the room.

Soon you dared to blink.

Your eyes captured the sight of a stunned Sir Lancelot, holding what seemed to be only the haft of his sword in his hand. The blade of his weapon layed across the room, shattered into pieces.

"Hah?! There's no way!"

You cursed as you found yourself in the same place as before.

The camera was unharmed. It didn't even show a scratch.

"What in the Nokia bullshit-?! Are you sure you hit it?"

Lancelot took a deep breath. Somehow, he even felt relieved it did not work.

"I definitely did."

Merlin gasped at the sight. He did not know what to do now.

Sudden realization hit you.

The camera could not be destroyed as it seemed.

"That means..."

"I'm staying in Camelot."

In some way, you were almost happy about the outcome. Not only you, but Lancelot as well felt a lot of mixed emotions about the situation.

To see if the camera still worked, you took a picture of the pieces that Lancelot's sword had broken into. And it did.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had gone by. Even now, Lancelot still felt guilty.

This was not right.

He had no right to feel happy about the outcome.

No right to be happy about the fact that you were trapped in a wrong time, having to live a lie. And even after all, he felt relieved to still have you here.

Yet, you felt the same way.

You missed your family and friends. Your job even.

Your music and the smell of your favourite restaurant. The sound of your phone ringing. On the other hand, you had found something that somehow made up for most of this, here in Camelot.

You were currently making Lancelot's bed as seeing to the knight's needs was your task now.

A subtle knock on the doorframe ripped you from your daydreaming.

"Good evening, (Y/N)."

By now, Lancelot's voice was easy to determine for you.

As you finished squishing his pillows so they would be soft, you turned around to greet him with a short bow.

"I'll be gone in a minute."

You grabbed your laundry basket and made your way over to the door, feeling your heart racing again at the sight of him.

"Please, wait."

His hand reached out to get a soft hold of your arm so you could not leave just yet.

As you looked up into his warm eyes, you felt your cheeks heating up.

"Is there anything else you need?"

"Just a minute of your time, if you could spare."

"But of course."

With that, he closed the door and stepped over to his table, getting his chainmail off.

You assisted him without speaking a word. Then he decided to break the silence.

"How are you feeling now?"

This question was not easy to answer, but you gave it your best, explaining that you had mixed feelings about your new life and that you missed your friends.

Lancelot took his boots off once he sat down on the edge of his bed.

"I'm sure your betrothed is missing you as well."

You blushed, but gave him a confusing look. He just pointed at the ring on your hand without another word.

"Betrothed?" you repeated, then huffed.

"No, I don't have anyone. I just inherited this from my family. Did you think I was...?"

Only now he talked again. He looked a lot less concerned than before.

"Why not? You're a good person, very interesting, funny...and beautiful."

You swallowed at his words, turning your face away a slight bit so that he could not see your red tinted cheeks.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, sir. You should get some rest now. I'll get going." you mumbled, getting a hold of the laundry basket again and heading towards the door before your heart would jump out of your chest.

"Good night, sir Lancelot."

And with that, you disappeared, feeling your heartbeat up to your throat.

The way this man made you feel was something completely different from what you knew.

Of course, a few guys had asked you for your phone number before, or tried to hit on you with cheesy pick up lines, but nobody ever said it so believable like Lancelot had just done.

~~~~~~~~~

A new day began, which meant you were taking care of your chores early as well.

You had prepared breakfast for the knights, then went to the armory and prepared gear for training.

Time passed, as you suddenly heard a bunch of footsteps coming closer.

"So, did you ask about the ring?" you heard Percival ask.

Were they talking about you again?

"I don't know what you're talking about..." This voice clearly belonged to Lancelot. Without even intending to, you smiled at the sound of him.

"(Y/N)'s wearing a ring. As if you didn't notice." Now, Gwaine's voice was also loud and clear.

"It's none of my business."

Again, Gwaines voice echoed through the hallway.

"It will be. Imagine she is actually married. If I were her husband and I'd see you looking at her the way you, well, just do, I'd-"

They came through the door, all falling silent immediately.

"Good morning gentlemen. Your armors are cleaned, repaired, and polished. Would that be all?"

They all definetly heard the passive aggressive undertone in your voice, but they just thanked you in shame.

Their timing to talk about you was always on point.

"(Y/N), we didn't mean to-"

Percival started quietly, but you waved your hands in front of him.

"Forget about it. It's not me you have to apologize to. It's sir Lancelot."

With that, you helped them getting ready for practice.

"So", Gwaine walked up to you in a slow pace, patting your back, "Any chance you were engaged or married?"

"That depends on who's asking." You smirked, but then gave in with a huff.

"It's inherited, the ring. I'm not, you know..."

"Not married, engaged or in love?"

Elyan chimed in while sheathing his sword.

"None of the above."

After you realized what you had said, you quickly glanced over to the knight that had saved you weeks ago.

His eyes met yours for a mere second before practically glueing themselves to the floor.

The knights soon noticed as well how Lancelot's mood shifted.

He had hoped for a different answer.

Your gaze met the ground as well.

There was no denying that Lancelot had a special place in your heart. That only the sound of his voice made you happy. But how could you admit that in front of the knights when you hadn't even talked about it with Lancelot himself?

~~~~~~~

You layed on the grass in the palace garden, stargazing. Here in Camelot, the stars were definetly clearer to see than at home. From the first time noticing this, you had enjoyed the view to the fullest. By now it was a regular thing to come to the garden and look up into the stars.

Steps came closer to you, so you quickly sat up straight and grasped the handle of your dagger.

"It's just me, no worries", you heard Lancelot's voice. The person coming closer was him. Once he stood in front of you, you were able to recognize him visually as well.

He sat down next to you as you layed back again, your eyes observed the lights in the distance.

"I've never seen them this clear at home..." you mumbled with a smile on your face.

The knight crossed his arms behind his head so he could rest comfortably.

For some time you two just stared into the night before he found his voice again.

"Your home... How is it? Would you tell me more about it?"

With widened eyes you blew up your cheeks, not knowing where to start.

"The future is... very different, you would hardly understand."

"Then let me try at least. I'd love to know how you lived your life."

Another deep breath followed. While collecting your thoughts, you still stared up into the sky.

It took a while until you found something to start with and you shared your knowledge with him.

Soon Lancelot's head shifted into your direction, watching you closely while you started to explain about the future. He listened to you carefully.

Hours passed by in the blink of an eye.

"You must think I'm making all of this up and that I'm crazy..."

He huffed and rolled onto his side, watching you closely.

"I may not fully understand what this 'internet' might be, but I believe you. There's no reason to doubt your statings."

The corners of your lips curled up into a smile.

"Trust me, the internet is a weird place, but it has nice pasta recipes."

"Pasta?" he repeated in confusion.

"Wait, you don't know pasta? Seems like I'll cook some for you one day. I mean, if you'd like to." Now you turned to face him as well.

"Surely. Whatever it is, I'll be glad to try it."

Both of you smiled at each other with heavy eyelids. As tired as you were, you would never get tired of each other. It was impossible.

A silent yawn from you caused him to giggle. "Let me escort you back into your room, you should get some rest."

"As should you, sir."

Even if he disliked the fact that you did not address him by his name, but mostly his title, it made him proud hearing it from you, for all he desired was to serve.

Lancelot got up from the ground, reaching his hand out to you. When you got a hold of it, he gently pulled you up to your feet. Due to your tiredness you stumbled forward, falling right into his arms.

"Oh, watch out", he laughed, stabilizing you with a firm grip around your waist, "Don't break your ankles."

You felt your cheeks instantly heating up when you stood so close to him. A shy smile from you met his mesmerized expression. His eyes seemed to be locked with yours for a whole while.

"I-I should be... going to my room..." you whispered barely noticeable. The knight blinked a few times before making some space in between you again.

"I'll take you there. You're not wandering around alone."

"I can take care of myself, sir."

"I insist."

He offered his arm for you to support yourself and you thankfully took the offer right away. There was no way you could persuade him to let you walk back on your own after all.

On your way, you looked up to the knight for a moment.

"You really don't think I'm a crazy witch, do you now?"

"Why would I?" he answered. "You came here through sorcery, that might be right, but I'm most certain you're not a witch. Nor crazy. Of course it took you a while to adapt to this world, but you're not crazy."

"If Arthur ever finds out that I had to do with sorcery, then..."

Lancelot stopped you and cupped your face as gently as he could. With feathery touches his fingers traced over your skin. "He won't ever hear anything about this from me. Quite the opposite. Your secret is safe with me."

For a moment you stayed like this and you rested your hands on his arms.

With two fingers he moved a strand of hair from your face and secured it behind your ear before he ever so carefully stroked over your hair once.

"(Y/N), I'm so glad you're..."

Here? No, he couldn't say that. It would sound like he would enjoy the fact that you were separated from your actual life.

Before he could find a fitting word, you heard guards coming across the floor.

"We should go on."

You told him with a warm smile, tugging on his arm.

Once you arrived at your room, he opened the door for you to enter, waiting by the door frame to say goodbye.

"It was lovely sharing these moments with you, sir Lancelot. I haven't had so much fun in a long time."

"I'm always glad to listen to your stories. Maybe we could do it again, in some time?"

You nodded as you heard his words. This man actually gave you the feeling that he cared. He listened.

He made you feel safe around here.

"I'd love that. Thank you for spending your precious time with me."

The knight huffed, knowing he had only a few hours left to rest. He certainly wouldn't be able to sleep tonight since his head was completely filled with you.

Before he could go his way, you rewarded him with a soft kiss on his cheek, leaving him a bit speechless.

"What I said in the armory, some time ago... I'm sorry. I didn't want to give Gwaine any more reason to gossip and tease."

He remembered your words exactly.

It had somehow hurt him to hear that you were not in love but anyone, but now that you explained it, his disappointment vanished.

"Are you saying... there is someone you are in love with?"

His words only made you blush more. Your skin was covered in goosebumps. Luckily, you had mastered the art of answering such questions without having to say something that you were shy about.

"I'd say that there is someone I appreciate more than anyone else. I do have my favorite person here in Camelot. Someone I feel especially comfortable around."

Even if it was not the clear answer he would've wanted to hear, it was something he deeply appreciated nonetheless. Your words meant a lot to him.

"I'm happy to hear that after all you found a safe space for yourself."

"I did."

"In that case", he kissed the back of your hand, "I wish you a good night, (Y/N). Do I see you tomorrow?"

"Of course. Sleep well, sir."

~~~~~~~~

It's been almost three months here in Camelot for you. The bonds you had created with the other people here grew stronger with every day.

You considered the knights your friends, such as Merlin as well.

Right now, you stood in the kitchen of the castle, it was lunch time soon.

For today you had prepared something special; the long promised pasta.

The knights sat in their dining room, already awaiting you.

Merlin helped you serving the slightly steaming plates to them. "What did you say was this?" Elyan asked, taking a close look at his food.

"Whatever it is, it smells amazing!" Percival added, inhaling the scent deeply.

You served the last plate in front of Lancelot, gifting him a lovely smile. Hopefully he'd like it, after all you had given your best to get this dish to perfection, even though it was quite simple.

"This is Carbonara. There's more in case you like it."

The knights thanked you and tried their food, eagerly twisting the noodles up on their fork.

"Wait, this is delicious!" Leon exclaimed after his first bite.

A bright smile appeared on your face.

"Really? I know this is not what you're used to, but..."

"(Y/N), I didn't know you could cook that well! Any other hidden talents there?" Gwaine asked. All of their reactions flustered you. It made you happy and proud to see them enjoying their carbonara.

Lancelot seemed to like it as well. He dug into his food as soon as possible, as they all inhaled their pasta.

"You said there's more right?" Percival asked with a full mouth.

You nodded, took his empty plate away only to serve him some more.

"Merlin, I guess (Y/N) is taking over the cooking part from now on." Elyan joked once he finished as well.

You quickly got the big pan from the kitchen and placed it in the middle of the table.

"Anyone else want another round?"

Before you even finished your sentence, three more plates got reached out into your direction.

"I think I won't be needed here anymore." Merlin said as he helped you serving the knights some more.

"You can help clean the kitchen afterwards, how about that?"

"Great", the servant groaned, "Now you also sound like Arthur already."

Giggling, you took a step back, got yourself the jug of water from the table and refilled everyone's cup.

The knights thanked once again and continued eating. Training had been especially hard this morning which had gotten them all pretty hungry.

Once they finished, Lancelot got up and helped you and Merlin with cleaning. As many times as you had told him to sit down and enjoy his break, he did not care.

"For tomorrow I'm planning a beef Wellington, so you all better be back from patrol on time~"

Half an hour later you had cleaned the kitchen and the utensils again, bringing them back to the place they belonged.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" Lancelot asked as you leaned against the stove.

"I did, don't worry."

"(Y/N), you're doing so much for the knights. You should rest a bit, your body is not used to these conditions."

With a smile watched him cross his arms in front of his chest.

"But I'm getting more and more used to it. Although I think I could use a coffee again, but since that doesn't exist yet..."

Suddenly, the man's visage turned serious. "I wish I could provide you with everything you seek from your time..." he mumbled, making sure there was nobody else around.

"I have everything I really need. A roof over my head, at least two meals a day, a warm bed and great company. The greatest I could imagine in this world."

Lancelot's eyes scanned the room. You two were completely alone right now.

"But you have no TV, no internet, no, what was it called, phone?"

It was true, in this world you were missing a lot of privileges. Instant news about everything for example. Your time here in Camelot had shown you how spoiled your generation actually was.

"I don't need any of that. And to be honest, I don't know if, in case I could ever return, I could live the same way I did before."

A hint of sadness added to his facial expression.

You had seen this exact face before.

"But we both know I'm here, and it won't change again. And I enjoy my time here."

"(Y/N), I heard you crying a few times. I heard how much you miss your friends. Your life in general."

At his words, you couldn't help but swallow hard. It was true, you had cried a few times, but what did he expect?

"Yet I don't see myself 'trapped' in this world anymore. I love it here, to be honest, and if I had the chance to leave... I don't know if I would actually want to go back. Having people you care about in two different worlds sucks..."

You stretched your arms up and twisted them a bit. All the work around the castle indeed left its marks on you, causing every muscle to ache.

"Your arms hurt?" Lancelot asked, but you only laughed.

"My everything. It was really bad at the start but like I said, I'm getting used to it."

Lancelot made his way around you, standing against your back. He began to massage your shoulders and your upper arms ever so slightly.

"Oh, you're an angel, sir Lancelot..."

You relaxed completely under his touch, closing your eyes and letting his hands sooth your tensed muscles.

"If I would sit down now, I'd fall asleep instantly."

Around this knight, you felt incredibly comfortable. He alone made up for so much you had lost.

"How about you take a break?" Lancelot's voice was merely a whisper since he was so close to your ear already.

"But I have to bring Percivals horse to the farrier soon."

"I'll see to that. You go and take a break, alright?"

Once you turned around, you leaned against the man, nodding during the half hearted hug.

If he said he would see to it, then he would.

A break actually sounded wonderful right now.

Lancelot patted your shoulders,

"Thank you, sir."

Even if you two were close friends by now and crushed on each other, you still refused to not call him 'sir'. He was so proud of his title that he had earned which was why you still adressed him like that.

Yet, he was more than fine with it. He adored the way you called him and actually prefered it over anything else.

"Anything for you."

#bbc merlin #merlin #knights of the round table #merlin fanfic #merlin bbc #sir lancelot #Sir Lancelot x reader

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 years ago

Note

Can we have moren of Owin and itty bitty please? I feel like your gonna keep us in suspense like blade and lo

I LOVE these two! And yes, I'm gonna make you wait, and the reason why, is Owin is a soft player. Typically he gets that blueberry muffin, he has a few weeks, maybe a month or two with them, and he's done. BB knows this, she finds him extremely attractive, why wouldn't she? 6'9" thick, tatted, respectful, and he has a things with the kids. But what happens when she somewhat caves?

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Strawberry Muffin, and a Mini Blueberry Muffin

Summary: Owin missed you

Pairings: Owin X Bitty Bean

Rating: cuteness

Warnings: Owin, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 600

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Owin Everett-Levinson Masterlist

You give a small smirk when you hear Owin’s walk in laughing. The small package tucked away and ready for him. He goes and does his quick little flirting with Mrs. Drysdale, before that big body is leaned over the counter, “You didn’t come back yesterday.”

You give him a shrug, “I figured if you were really needing a muffin and coffee you could walk down the steps.”

“Aw, shot right to the heart,” his eyes scan over the display case before he looks at you with a sigh. “I guess just surprise me with your favorite. Where’s Vanessa, she always makes sure to have the right muffins.

“Yesterday we had some amazing blueberry muffins,” his mouth drops open a bit, as you grab a strawberry shortcake muffin. Taking the cup you had set aside just for him, you pour his coffee.

“I guess I should have walked down the stairs. It’s not weird me living up there. Mrs. D, she’s good to me. We usually have a lunch hour on my days off. She’s a second mom. We talk about important things,” he gives you a wink taking his bag and coffee. “You don’t usually put my muffin in a bag.”

“There’s usually only one muffin,” he rips open that bag so quickly. Seeing only but a tiny little blueberry muffin. “I always make mini muffins with leftover batter. Ellie calls them the baby muffins. Usually Aster comes by and collects them.”

“This is a...you finally got it,” he takes a quick drink of his coffee, and then those eyes go to look at you oddly. “You know I always get blonde roast right?” you nod your head. He takes another drink, his tongue clicking in his mouth. “Why does this taste...okay, you win this time Itty Bitty Bean. Next time don’t put sugar in my coffee,” popping the entire mini muffin in his mouth he exaggerates a moan, “I bet this is even better full size, but imagine it giant sized. The bigger the better. I’ll let you know about this inferior berry muffin tomorrow.”

Turning to leave, you can’t help but smile at the giant man. Even more so knowing that he has a fluffy kitty cat. “How about tomorrow you give him a blueberry muffin.”

“But, Mrs. Drysdale, you said...”

“Trust me on this one. Owie is a good kid. But, don’t hurt him. Be honest with him. You don’t always have to be so guarded either,” she knows all about your hesitations. You have to be careful. Have to be choosy. Have to fully think things through. “I saw you melt when you saw him with Ellie.”

“It’s just cause him and Aster are good friends,” you turn to grab a rag, and start wiping things down.

“They are close, but he’s good with kids. I have a few grandchildren to spare. While yes, Ellie is his girl, that is her godfather, poor girl she has two godfathers,” she rolls her eyes but looks back at you. “I told you to be careful because of how he is. I’m telling you now to give him a muffin.”

“Mrs. Drysdale, what do you know?”

“I know that my Owie loves blueberry muffins. Make him one with extra crumbles on top. If you really want to make an impression, heat it up for him. And this time no sugar in the coffee, don’t change his roast. But I need you to be completely honest with my boy. Talk about your expectations, your needs, and your wants. Even if they’re not all for you. Just trust me when I tell you, he’s fully invested.”

Masterlist

#desperate lives #desperate lives au #desperate verse #da au #da au request #dau #owin everett levinson #owin x bitty bean #owin everett levinson x reader

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babybeeelle · 3 years ago

Text

Slight angst with fluff

Warnings - anxiety, talk about self-harm/ self-harming thoughts, intrusive thoughts

•••

At 7 pm everything was fine. It was only 30 minutes before Peter was supposed to arrive, and my thoughts were calm. It was date night.

By 7:36 the turmoil began. Now, to a normal person, this would be no big deal. But I am not a normal person. So when 7:43 hit, my thoughts began to dig into the deeper pits.

He probably didn't want to see you. He's probably fed up with you and your deprecating habits. What if he is hurt? What if he is bleeding out on the cold concrete-

It was only when I felt the wet blood coming up onto the tips of my fingers when I realized I had been scraping at my head. I brought my hand down from my head and stared at the blood on my fingertips.

Again, to a normal person, this wouldn't have struck a chord, but it only made me want to bleed tenfold more.

Like a zombie, I stand up from the place on my couch and head to the bathroom. My hands reach under the sink and rip the taped blade from underneath the cabinet. As my fingers touch the cold blade, I find myself in a trance. The reflection from the light only holds me more.

Do it. I need it. I miss it. I need more.

I shake my head. Do I actually need this? What would Peter think?

Peter's not here. Just do it. What's your problem? Suddenly now that someone "cares" about you, you're going to take away the only thing that was there for you? Pathetic!

By now I can feel the streaks of my tears falling off my face. I promised Peter I would always go to him when things got bad. I can't break it, what would he think?

What does it matter what he thinks? The one who swore to you he would be there when things get tough is out who knows where.

I began to press the blade into my wrist when the mostly absent angel on my shoulder appeared.

Do you really want to throw 4 months of sobriety away for a quick release that you're going to have to hide for the next week? Are you ready for the quilt and shame that comes with those cuts? Are you ready for the look of disappointment in Peter's eyes when he finds out what you did? What you threw away?

The blade felt heavy in my hands as I battled between the thoughts flooding my brain.

Sighing, I drop the blade on the floor and head to my bed. As I sink into the sheets and my thoughts slow into asleep, I can't help but feel proud that I was successful.

~~~

I start to fill back into consciousness when I feel the familiar stroke of a hand through my hair. I subconsciously lean into his hand, needing his comfort. As I fully regain consciousness, I see Peter's worried eyes that have a million questions.

"I didn't do it..."

Peter grabs my hand and kisses it. "I'm so proud of you baby, but you really freaking scared me. You weren't answering my texts and then you weren't answering my calls and you always answer my calls because you have that little ringtone that lets you know it's me and-"

I cut him off with a quick kiss and pepper kisses around his face. "I'm sorry baby, but I'm okay. I love you."

Peter grabs my waist and pulls me into his lap. His head is buried into my neck when he whispers "I love you" back, kissing my neck in between each repeated phrase.

"Come on. Let's go to bed. I want to go back to sleep." I whisper back to him, still in his safe grasp.

#peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #tw

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iceslushii · 4 years ago

Note

So, I'm writing this to document what I can only assume is my sudden descent into insanity. I can't possibly be THAT bad a navigator, and yet as I write this I've been trapped in Ikea for 2 days. I haven't seen another person in the entire time I've been here. I thought it was a prank at first. Turn the place into a maze, get all the people out and see how long it takes me to get lost, then everyone has a good old laugh. Realised that wasn't the case when I tried to backtrack. Everything had changed, so I ended up lost. Instead of the exit, it was just row after row of bookcases.

So, I'm trapped in Ikea. Sounds like the setup for a bad joke. The lights went out at 10pm. Nearly gave me a fucking heart attack, that loud electrical THUNK sound and then pitch blackness. Place is full of beds though and my phone has a torch on it - but no damn signal - so I found a bed and went to sleep. Spent most of the next day trying to find my way out with no luck. Did find a restaurant serving those meatballs though, so at least I won't starve. That's probably the punchline to that joke. Anyway they were still warm and fresh, but I haven't seen anyone around who could have cooked them. Made my way back to the beds before the lights cut out again since it's too dark to search with them off.

It's 9.10am now, the lights came back on a little while ago. I'm sure I've searched the entire area around where I came in now and the exit obviously isn't here, so I'm going to pick a direction and hope for the best.

Day 3 of my magical Ikea mystery adventure. If I wasn't sure that there was something seriously weird about this place before, I am now. Walked for 3 hours in a more or less straight line (insert Ikea joke here) before I came across a ladder next to one of those huge stock shelves they have here. Climbed up to get my bearings, and it looks like this place just stretches on forever. Like that scene from the Lion King, except instead of trees and grass it was all shelves and tables and crap. I did see a person moving not too far away though, so I headed over.

Thought it was a staff member at first - it was wearing the uniform. And hell maybe it was, maybe freakish 7ft tall monsters with long arms, short legs and no faces are just the kinds of thing they want working at Super Ikea. Damn thing completely ignored me though, and with no eyes or ears I can't even be sure it knew I was there. Thought about shoving it or something to get its attention, but its hands were big enough to crush a water melon so I decided against it. It just kept moving along and eventually I lost sight of it so I decided to carry on the way I was going.

Anyway, no comfy bed for me tonight. Looks like I've entered the Improbably Hard and Pointy Table section of the store. Guess I'll have to make do with some bunched up tablecloths. Phone battery died during the day too. Didn't work anyway, but I feel like I've just lost some vital lifeline.

You ever see one of those cartoons where they're going through doors in a hallway and they just pop out of another door in the same hallway? That's how I feel right now. I've seen nothing but the same identical bookshelf for 2 days now. Just row after row after row of them. I mean, come on. I love books as much as the next guy, but this is excessive. I'm obviously still moving forwards though, I can see the signs hanging overhead passing by. Too bad none of them say "Exit".

Not sure who I was addressing that question to. Lets just say it was practice for the autobiography I'm going to write when I get out of here. I'll call it "My perfectly normal trip to a regular old Ikea".

If I ever get out o

Finally found some other people! Yeah, turns out I'm not the only poor bastard trapped in here. Lucky for me, I guess. My 6th night here, 2 of those staff things came at me in the dark. Different from the first one I saw, but still messed up. Heard them coming, they were saying that the store was closed and I had to leave the building, all nice and polite like. I'm not sure which part of that was weirder, that they don't have mouths or that they were apparently trying to kill me while they were saying it. Came at me like rabid dogs.

So, I legged it. Sprinting through ikea in the dark like a fucking madman. I saw it when I cleared another stand of those giant stock shelves, all lit up with torches and floodlights. They've built a whole town in here! Got a massive wall built out of shelves and beds and tables and whatever else. I swear to god it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Anyway I guess they saw me coming (or maybe they heard my girlish manly bellows of fear), because they had a gate open and 2 people were there waving me in. Heard the staff things slam into the gate behind me after it closed, still politely informing us all that the store was now closed. They wandered off eventually though.

They call the town Exchange, because that's whats on the sign hanging from the ceiling directly above it. Exchange and Returns. All lit up against the night using lights they've found and plugged into the power lines. And there are beds and food and people. Over 50 wonderful people with regular sized limbs and a full set of facial features. It's now my 7th night here, and the first one not spent in darkness. A full week living in Ikea. There's probably a TV show in that somewhere.

Now that I'm around other people, I'm starting to feel more normal. Maybe normal isn't the word. But after a week with only the sound of my own footsteps for company, I was becoming increasingly sure that I'd just gone nuts. That I was tied up in some padded room somewhere, banging my head against the wall. But no, I feel quite sane now, thank you very much!

Apparently there are other towns out there. Some with more people, some with less. I found that fairly mind-boggling - how can that many people go missing with no one noticing. Surely someone would have noticed that everyone who goes to ikea seems to fucking vanish. Or maybe it's not everyone. Maybe we're just the lucky ones.

The people here just call those staff monster things the Staff. Apparently they are fine during the day, minding their own business walking the aisles. As soon as those lights go out though, they go fucking bonkers. So during the day people go out to find food, water and whatever else they need. Apparently there are restaurants and shops around that randomly get restocked. No one knows how. Maybe the staff do it. Apparently they aren't very good at their jobs though because the restocking sometimes takes a while, which means the food needs to be rationed. Maybe if they weren't so busy chasing people around in the dark they'd get more done.

Anyway when night comes the staff go nuts and everyone holds up inside the walls. Apparently it's the same everywhere in this place, whatever this place is. The Ur-Ikea, from whence all other Ikeas sprang. Or maybe we're all still just in the regular ikea and this is all some fever dream brought on by mind-numbing boredom. Who knows.

Been here for 10 days now. Most of the people I asked said they stopped keeping track a long time ago and one guy, Chris, said he'd been in here for years.

Years.

[ILLEGIBLE SCRIBBLES]

Apparently there are rumours of people who do manage to get out. And of people who see the exit, only to have it vanish before their very eyes. I get the feeling not everyone believes that, but I do. Explains how we got stuck in here in the first place (sort of). And I mean, come on. Staff monsters, row after endless row of high quality Swedish furniture. I don't know why they would find a disappearing door so hard to believe in.

Anyway, I went out scavenging for food at a nearby shop with Sandra and Jerry today. Once you learn the landmarks of this place it's not so hard to navigate. The overhead signs help a lot, but there are others; not too far in the distance a huge section of those giant stock shelves has collapsed against each other and way off in the east (we all assume it's east anyway - apparently Ikea doesn't sell compasses) is some kind of tower that looks like its made of wood, reaches all the way to the ceiling. Maybe they were trying to break out through the roof. Lights up at night so there must be people there, but its apparently a few days walk (which means it must be miles away) so no one here really knows for sure. Apparently I got incredibly lucky sleeping out in the open for a week without getting ripped to bits by the staff. That's me. Lucky lucky lucky.

We found some food in the shop. Guess the staff restocked it during the night, which was nice of them. There was a telephone on the wall, so I figured I'd try it out. There was a voice on the other end, but they were just talking nonsense. Random words strung together with no real meaning. You ever see a video of someone with aphasia? Kind of sounded like that. Didn't answer me when I spoke to them anyway. Sandra says all the phones in here are the same.

Oops, asking the journal questions again!

I was thinking last night. The ceiling on this place is pretty high and as far as anyone can tell it goes on forever. Shouldn't there be some kind of weather in here? I'm sure I read about some NASA building that was so big it had its own weather patterns, with clouds and stuff. This place is definitely bigger than that, but now that I think about it I'm pretty sure I've never felt so much as a temperature change in here.

I'll add it to the Grand List of Weird Bullshit.

The staff attacked the Exchange last night. Must have been 20 or 30 of them all just asking us to leave the store calm as you like, while trying to smash the walls down with their bare hands. Apparently this happens pretty regularly, so everyone is prepared for it. Knives from the restaurants, lawn mower blades made into hatchets, a fire axe. One guy, Wasim, even made a functional crossbow. Anyway the walls have holes in them, which I hadn't noticed before, specifically so we can stab out at the staff when they attack. Took a couple of them down myself. They don't seem to bleed, which is weird, but they go down as easy as a regular person once you start sticking holes in them.

We had to haul the bodies away in the morning. Apparently the dead ones will attract more during the night, so we had to get them away from Exchange. We have a couple of those trolley things they use to move big boxes around, so we loaded them up and took them over to Pickup. Apparently people just name everything in here after whatever sign is hanging overhead.

Pickup was grisly. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of dead staff all piled up. There was no smell, which was a blessing. Apparently in addition to not bleeding, these things don't rot either. My curiosity got the better of me while we were unloading them, so I took a look at one of the more cut-up ones. They're just skin, or something that looks like skin, all the way through. No muscle, no bone, no organs. Are they even really alive in the first place? They certainly seem like they have bones when they are moving around, pounding on the walls. And I'm sure I felt more resistance than just skin when the knife went in during the night. Maybe something happens to them when they die. Just one more thing on the ever-increasing list of Weird Shit that goes on in here, I guess.

Something occurred to me, after the staff attack the other night. Every time you see a situation like this on TV or in a film, like its the end of the world or everyone is trapped on an island or whatever, once groups like ours start to form people always seem to turn on each other. Fighting for food or dominance or whatever else. That hasn't happened here. Apparently people from other towns come by from time to time, just to check in or occasionally to trade if they are short on something. But everything is always cordial. Friendly, even. Maybe its the threat of the staff, or perhaps the constant restocking of supplies in the shops means there's nothing much to fight over.

Maybe people are just better than they are generally given credit for. That's a nice thought. I think I'll go with that one.

A dozen people showed up at the gates this afternoon from a town called Trolleys. Apparently the staff broke through the walls and tore the town apart during the night. These 12 are the only survivors out of over a hundred. We let them in, obviously. One more point in the human decency column. Later, I asked if anyone knew how many of these towns there were out there. Between us and the new folks, we managed to come up with over 20 names. 20 towns filled with people, and who knows how many beyond that.

The motto for this place should be "How Is That Even Possible". Surely someone, somewhere must be looking for the thousands of people that must be in here.

I've been here for a little over 2 months now. Not that much changes, as it turns out. A couple of new people showed up, same story as the rest of us. Nice little trip to Ikea and suddenly they're trapped in Billy Bookcase's House of Faceless Weirdos. The staff attack the Exchange once or twice a week. We kill them and haul their bodies off, sometimes they hurt some of us first. They killed a guy called Jared a couple of weeks back. It was awful, frankly. Turns out regular humans still bleed in here, even if the staff don't. We tried our best, but none of us are doctors.

Jared was a good guy. He deserved better. We all do.

It occurred to me a couple of days after that, none of us were really looking for a way out of here. I don't even know where we'd start.

One of those quad copter things with a camera attached buzzed passed Exchange today. I thought it meant that someone was finally looking for us, that help was on the way. Apparently it's not the first time this has happened, though. Same thing happened a few months ago, and everyone is still here.

No idea if it saw us, it didn't stop if it did. Just kept flying until we could no longer see it.

Note: Based on recovery time of the journal, this entry appears to line up approximately with our first successful test piloting a drone inside SCP-3008-1. Analysis of footage shows a walled settlement under a sign labelled "Exchange and Returns". Attempts to relocate the settlement failed. Origin of previously sighted drones is unknown.

I started talking to people about the stuff they miss from home during dinner today. Probably not the best idea I've ever had, everyone seemed pretty down after. A bunch of people here have families. Husbands and wives, kids. Dogs. Franklin apparently has a pet llama, though I'm not sure I buy that.

But apparently some of the people here have some seriously odd gaps in their knowledge. 3 of them had never heard of the International Space Station, 2 of them seemed to think █████ ███████ was the Prime Minister, and one of them had apparently never heard of the Statue of Liberty. I believe them, too. They seemed just as confused as the rest of us.

The more I thought about it though, the more it started to explain a few things. What if the reason no one is looking for all us missing people is because we haven't all come from the same place. This is going to sound weird (maybe that should be the motto for this place) but what if all the people here have come from different dimensions? Realities? Whatever you call it. I've seen enough TV shows to know the drill. Sarah comes from a place where there is no Statue of Liberty. They didn't launch a space station where Wasim is from. If everyone here came from different places, even from ones that seem identical, there'd be no huge missing persons panic. No mass search. We'd just be a blip, a single missing person in a world of non-stop news.

Well. That was a fun train of thought.

Just realised that yesterday was the six month anniversary of my arrival here. I wonder if Ikea sells party hats. The routine around here has remained more or less the same. More new folk show up, one every couple of weeks or so. Food supplies go up and down, but we've never actually had a major shortage. Occasionally we get a visitor from one of the nearby towns, usually Checkouts or Aisle 630. We check in with each other from time to time, occasionally trade supplies if someone gets particularly low on something. It's comforting, in a way. A reminder that we aren't alone in here, some small glimmer of civilisation. Sometimes they bring medical supplies. Apparently there's a pharmacy a few towns down from Checkouts that gets restocked every now and then, so they share out what they can. I've never heard of an Ikea with a pharmacy before but at this point I wouldn't be surprised if someone stumbled on an Ikea Organ Harvesting Lab. Would certainly explain the staff.

Speaking of our faceless jailers, their attacks have been getting worse lately. 3 or 4 times a week now, with twice as many staff as there used to be. No idea where they all come from, or why the attacks have increased. We tried following one of them during the day a few weeks ago, me and Sarah. Wanted to see if they lead back to a staff room or something. Didn't seem to go anywhere though, just randomly walked through the aisles. We had to turn back before we found anything.

We've been reinforcing the walls, trying to arm ourselves better. Certainly no lack of materials to use. Wasim has been making more crossbows, but it's pretty slow going.

Too bad Ikea doesn't sell guns.

Note: No new personnel have entered SCP-3008 at Site-██ in the time span indicated in this entry.

The attacks are getting bad now. Almost every night, and with so many staff that the bodies almost pile high enough for others to climb the walls. I think we're in real trouble here.

Exchange is

I think Exchange is done. We got hit pretty bad last night. Not many casualties, but the wall is wrecked. We finally figured out why the attacks had been escalating, too. A box of supplies had a chunk of one of the staff in there. No idea how it happened but apparently a piece of one will draw them as well as a full body. Too late now in any case, there's too many bodies for us to haul away and still have time to fix the wall before night. Candace has called a meeting. I suspect there will be talk of abandoning Exchange, maybe try and get shelter at Checkouts or something.

It's already getting late though. I don't think we'll have time to make it. Maybe some of us will. I was fine for that first week out in the dark, after all. But then, how often can I keep getting lucky.

I'm only writing this for a sense of closure, I guess. For me, or for anyone who finds this. If this is the final entry here, I hope whoever is reading this is doing so from outside of this place.

My biggest fear? If I do die tonight, I'll just wake up here again in the morning.

Note: This is the last entry. It is assumed that while attempting to reach the "Checkouts" settlement he was separated from the rest of his group by a pursuing SCP-3008-2 instance and happened upon the exit.

We're no strangers to love You know the rules and so do I A full commitment's what I'm thinking of You wouldn't get this from any other guy I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it Inside we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it And if you ask me how I'm feeling Don't tell me you're too blind to see

Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give, never gonna give (Give you up) We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it Inside we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye

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hughiecampbelle · 5 years ago

Text

Wildflowers (Shelby!Reader × Bonnie Gold Oneshot)

Character/s: Bonnie, Aberama mention

Word Count: 1,365

Inspired By: Silver by Nim Nim

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @death-of-a-mermaid @lotsoffandomimagines @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @theshelbyclan

A/N: Another Bonnie fic! Though he's still not a character I write for, I couldn't stop thinking about this plot. This has been sitting in my writers block folder for weeks!!! I really did love my original idea, but I also think what it turned into is pretty good, too :) I haven't been feeling confident at all in my writing, which is part of the reason why I haven't posted a fic lately. I do love some paragraphs, but others I just wanna throw in the trash. It can't stop me from posting it though because I really do wanna get through this block. I'm thinking of doing a part two? Lmk if you'd want that! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

Beneath the clouds, so grey, so sad, sunlight blessed the trees, the leaves dancing in the breeze. Grass, overgrown, free to sway. Birds, bugs, everything seemed so alive, so eager to breathe and shout and let their presence be known. Unapologetically there, in their own skin. Going home, all of them, awaiting the impending storm. Static hung in the air, a heavy curtain, a blanket on your breastbone. Too thick to breath. The wind picking up. Brushing the leaves, the petals and pollen, across the stone pathway, down the dirt road, through the fields of wildflowers. You sat in the heart of it all, the warmth of the bright morning wrapping you in a it's arms, cupping your cheeks, holding all your broken pieces together. The heat in the air tracing your skin, kissing your face, as if it wanted to thaw every bad thing that had ever happened from your bones, stripped of what used to make you so angry. A warm step beneath your feet, your spine arched, in between your palms a mug. Eyelids heavy, wary of the bright outside growing dim, welcoming the day with a soft, cautious hello. Thunder rumbling, warning, threatening, baring it's teeth at the world. Lightning would follow soon, more timid, dancing on its toes, reminding you of the baby of the family, your youngest brother How you missed him. In no time, just as the storm, they would be here, and like the bugs, the babes, the blossom, you would be ready.

Prick and pinch your flesh all you wanted, this was no dream.

A home in the countryside. Tall, lopsided, full of warmth, of love. Standing on its own, reminding you so much of him, of what you were together. Defiant. Stubborn. Strong. Chipped bowls, and baskets of fruit, the sweetest stuffed between sugar and pastry. Patchwork quilts and holes in socks. Timid smiles, light touches, the faint smell of vanilla, lavender, of the bouquet he plucked on his way back. Honeyed kisses, promises of sweet dreams, of perfect mornings. Fireflies like fallen stars, a moon to sweet not to nibble at. A sleepy breeze, urging you to bed. This was your escape. Your hideaway, as far from the city as you could get. A place to yourselves, where time froze. The seasons changed, throwing you into the icy grips of the winter, the sweltering heat of the summer, but you, and him, together the same. Together safe, happy. Free.

It wasn't always like this, though.

Blood splatter. Silver jewelry. Broken bottles. A haze, all of it. The story torn apart and sewed together, limb by limb, coming to you in flashes, in nightmares, waking in a cold sweat. A time of regret, embarassment, of a pain so deep the wound never stopped bleeding. Still hasn't. Covering up a sadness no one cared to see, to acknowledge. A family only in words. Invisible, ignored, wanting to be seen, your screams of help falling on deaf ears. You were an object to them, and the rest of the world. A toy. The city lights bright, blinding, drawing you in on their own dark vices. Blacking out. Drink after drink until you were stumbling, fumbling, forgetting your own name. Falling for strangers. Skin on skin, their hot breath melting your neck, starved kisses up and down your body until you lay beside them, crushed, wanting to scrub yourself clean of this routine. An escape. A search for a home that never belonged to you. Drown out the thoughts, the fears, the misery. Putting your trust into their words. Once a Shelby, always a Shelby. Theirs to carry was also yours. A gun by birthright. A shallow grave you'd fall into too young, but just as guilty. Slip from the covers, one last swig to carry on. They wouldn't see you for days. A bender. Come down slowly, step by step, until you were light enough to face them, face the job, face the body behind the barrel. It was all the same.

This wasn't the life you wanted to live.

You didn't want to live at all if it meant going through the motions.

Calling him. One night, from someone else's phone, their body breathing shallow, steady, wrapped in nothing but grimy sheets. Another handprint on your thigh, another nameless face you'd wonder about. On the edge of the mattress, begging, desperate, scared. A noose like a necklace hanging around your neck. Dainty, delicate, dangerous. You needed someone, anyone. If they answered, it wasn't too late. That's what you told yourself. He wasn't the first number you dialed. Sibling by sibling, your brothers first, then sister. The bar, the shop, even your aunt too busy. You weren't quite sure why he was next, that he was there at all, Aberama giving you it for emergencies. Maybe it was the last number you could remember. Maybe you wanted a second chance, maybe you wanted to live after all. You barely even knew him, or his brown eyed boy. The few times you spoke he was warm, inviting, at times a little akward in a way that made you smile. But he picked up. His voice rusty, raspy, woken too early in the morning. A hint of panic. No call came with happy news at an hour like this. You apologized for waking him, regret pooling in your gut, spilling out into words like the vomit on your chin, but he stopped you, cut you off, not wanting you to hang up. There had to be a reason. So, he listened. A boy with big dreams listened until the sun came up. To the shakes, the sobs, the grief in your voice for the person you lost, the person you wanted so desperately to kill. To finally put an end to.

That was almost a year ago.

The Dark Days. They had a name, a date, a birthday, and a time of death. Those were the months, years, mere seconds, flashes of time you had a hard time remembering, that you wanted so desperately to leave behind. Hazy, drunken, angry. You wanted to hurt yourself more than anyone, and you did. But now, you could move on. He was there when no one else was. At first, as a friend. Then, something more. Someone more. The one to catch you when the floor fell through, when your body lay broken after time and time again hitting rock bottom. You loved Bonnie, and he loved you. It was simple, effortless, the only thing that ever made sense in this big, twisted life. The city too enticing, the bloodline too polluted, there was no way you could have shed your shadow in a place like that. So, you found this place together. Scraped together paychecks, pocket change, selling what you could. Taking solace in the comforts of one another. Making it your own.

Not a drop since.

The thunder clapped, applauding, warning you. Rain pounding on the roof, plopping in deep puddles, watering the wildflowers. A dreary grey tint cast overhead, illuminating the greens of mother nature. Lightning striking, slicing the sky right down the middle. You watched from the kitchen window, Bonnie behind you, his hand grabbing yours. One last second of peace before the storm ripped you apart. Windchimes bawling, crying, begging you to run. Now. The animals quiet, listening, anticipating the threat yet to come. Not the storm, though. But them. A black car drove softly through the mucky waters, mud splashing on the shiny black paint. Closer, closer, stopping short of the lopsided fence either you or Bonnie had yet to finish painting. He always promised he'd get to it one day. Long coats and caps with blades stitched with thread and blood. You hadn't seen any of them since. Leaving without a goodbye, without another word, disappearing in the night with a promise of a home of your own. You weren't sure how they found you, why they came at all. Whatever they said, or did, would never make you change your mind, make you go back.

Not to the Dark Days.

You weren't interested in being a Shelby anymore, you were a Gold now.

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im14andivebeen14foramonth · 4 years ago

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The Parent Trap AU

This absolutely WONDERFUL art is done by @sanderssidestrash27 Thank for making this I love it so much!!!!!

Summary: Almost twelve years later, separated at birth twins Roman and Remus both end up at the same Camp Sanders. What chaos will ensue those short eight weeks? And where will it lead the twins when their time together ends?

"And, once again, we have a winner! Presenting Mr. Napa California, Remus Parker!" The crowd of boys watching the tournament let out an uproar of applause and shouting as Gavin held Remus's hand up above his head in victory. Remus grinned, whooping along with all of the boys and swooping his arm in a righteous bow. "Now, do we have any other competitors?" Gavin asked.

Remus walked over to the group of onlookers to them all high fives, grinning and laughing at their words of praise. Even he couldn't deny it (not that he ever would), he *was* pretty good at fencing. Great, even.

"Oh come on now, boys!" Gavin said as he surveyed the nearby campers. "Someone here has got to be able to beat this champion, let's give it a go!"

"I'll try!" Roman declared as we walked up to the scene. He had a soccer ball tucked under his arm and had two other boys trailing behind him. They all looked like they just walked off of the soccer field, still sweaty and hot of breath.

"Alright, epic, let's go!" Gavin scribbled down *Roman James* next to *Remus Parker* on his clipboard. Above that sat rows upon rows of *Remus Parker*s next to previous opponents, all of their names crossed out and a star besides his every time.

Roman walked over to the pile of equipment while Remus talked with his friends.

"You're gonna win this one again, man," one of them said.

"Yeah, you're gonna whoop his ass, dude!" Another boy exclaimed. Everyone gasped at the foul language before laughing. "Besides, look at him. He's whooped from his soccer game, he wouldn't be able to win even if he tried." Remus grinned before turning to look at his new challenger, who was already suited up.

"Good luck, Re!" Camden said as Remus grabbed his sabre.

"Thanks, Cammy. But, I don't need luck." He tossed his blade into the air, catching it in and landing in a fighting stance. He pointed the protected tip of the weapon only an inch from Camden's chest. Who immediately flinched back. Remus smirked, proud of the reaction he was given. "I'm Remus Parker. AKA the best fencer in the whole country, AKA the one who's about to beat this poor boy's ass." The boys burst into laughter and playful applause as Remus made yet another ceremonious bow. Janus *did* always tell Remus to be confident in himself and his abilities, though he always made a point to assure Remus that he got his confidence from his other father, whomever that may be. Janus usually left that part out. Well, whoever it was, Remus had to thank them one day. Without them, he wouldn't be able to wack other people with long swords. The thought made him giggle quietly to himself.

"Alright boys, are we ready?" Gavin asked. Remus turned back around sliding his protective mask over his face.

"Yup," he stated, getting into position.

"You know it," Roman said. Remus didn't know who this boy was, but he couldn't help but want to laugh out loud at his clear British accent. What British dude would want to come to a camp like this when he could be enjoying a cup of tea with the Queen or something? Remus almost laughed out loud.

"En garde." Gavin said, crouching down to get a better view. The two boys touched their blades together, tense and ready for battle. Most of the campers held their breaths, a few of them letting out words of praise for the player they were rooting for. Things like *let's go Roman* and *you got this Roman* rang out amongst the crowd. Anticipation hung in the air like a rope, swinging back and forth between the opposing teams. The noise dropped as silence filled the air for a few frightful seconds before Gavin declared the magic word:

"Fence."

With that one, little word, Remus smirked under his gear. His attitude reeked of confidence as he swung his sabre back and forth towards Roman. Roman arched his back, avoiding every blow with surprising ease. Shocked, Remus almost lost his footwork, barely avoided the tip of Roman's blade. He regained his thoughts and ran by Roman to the nearest tree. He jumped with as much grace as he could muster, kicking his foot off the tree and propelling himself in Roman's direction. Roman, however, was able to jump back and duck, moving out of the way and missing all four of Remus's attacks. Roman, catching on to Remus's style quickly, decided that it was his turn to strike. So he jumped forward and launched his sabre at Remus. Remus was able to block Roman, causing them to run backwards into the grass. Remus, having to run backwards, lost his footing and rolled onto the ground on his back. The air was knocked out of him and he clutched the dark grass with his free hand, gasping for air. A chunk of the dewy plant was ripped from the Earth as his hand flew up to his chest. When he was finally able to regain his composure, he lifted the hand up to his eyes to block out the obnoxious rays of sun and view his determined opponent. He saw Roman lurking above him. He looked like he was trying to be dramatic, waiting until the very last second to strike. *What an idiot* Remus thought, rolling his eyes. *Two can play at that game.* Remus played there, pretending to be beat. The crowd of boys had quickly caught up with the two and were now shouting at each opponent. Some called for Remus to get up, while others cheered Roman on to finish his work. Roman, being the over-the-top and confident that he was, flexed his muscles in show. Remus almost chortled at his dumb this boy was, but instead kept up his act. Finally, done with his dramatics, Roman brought his blade up above his arms, lowering it to stab directly in the middle of his chest. That's when Remus rolled away, jumping to his feet and letting out a battle cry as he ran sword-first at Roman. The 6drown let out an uproar of yells while Roman shrieked out of pure terror. He ran away from Remus and up the stairs of the outdoor dining hall with Remus following only steps behind. Remus was able to run ahead of the other and hopped onto the seat if the bench. The boys continued to fence and he shimmied down the bench and Roman along the wooden deck. Until, that is, Remus got to the end of the bench and also the end of the deck, which if course, with Remus's luck, lacked a railing. And as he turned back around to find a route of escape, Roman decided to make his final strike. Where was his dramatics when Remus needed them? As the tip of his blade collided with Remus's chest above his rapidly beating heart, the force caused Remus to stumble and tip backwards, before eventually falling off of the deck…

And into a trough of water.

Oh. *There* were his dramatics. Great timing.

As Remus hit the water back-first, the now large crowd of onlookers all gasped and fell still. Droplets of water splashed through the air and hit the warm grass, a few campers getting wet in the process. Still, they sat there, tense and unmoving. Finally, Remus was the first to move as he slowly turned his head towards Roman. He lifted his arms, watching as water pooled off of him and back into the trough. Turning back to Roman with his arms still extended, he growled.

"Really?" He snarled, his strained voice muffled by his mask but clearly seeping with rage. Roman had one of his hands up to his mask to cover his mouth in shock. He shook his head in an attempt to regain his thoughts before quickly dropping his sabre.

"Oh my God, I'm so so sorry! Here, let me help," he said as he extended his hand towards Remus. Remus peered up at Roman, smirking. He went to match onto to Roman's hand, but before Roman could even think of pulling him onto the dock, Remus yanked his arm as hard as he could.

With a small, high-pitched shriek, Roman went falling butt-first into the container of water. Even as Remus was hit with the spray of water and even more soaked, he couldn't help but burst into a loud fit of laughter. As he continued to laugh hysterically, Roman looked down at himself. He let out a choked, offended scoff before shoving Remus back into the water, causing him to both stop his laughter and get even more wet. When he resurfaced, he saw Roman laughing just as he had been before and huffed, clocking Roman in the face. What could he say, his dad always did teach him to stand up for himself. And if that meant punching some random dude in the face (or even shoving someone down the steps, something that apparently his father found funny but told him to stop doing after the fourth time. Sorry, Billy, but that was MY Thomas the Train.) then so be it.

When Roman came down from the initial shock of being punched, he turned to Remus and decked him the same way he had, right square in the face. Now *that's* when things got bad.

The two boys went full out brawl mode, rolling around in the water, kicking, cursing, punching, and everything in between. Both boys found the other to be surprisingly around the same strength as himself, along with very similar fighting techniques. Punches right to the face and bites on the arm seemed to be both of their go-to's, apparently. Finally, after fighting for what felt like ages, they both felt Paris of strong arms wrap around their middles in an attempt to untangle them. They continued to go at each other's throats until the second they were dropped a feet apart in the grass, soaked and furious.

"Boys! That is enough!" Gavin said as he stood by Roman's side.

"There is absolutely no fighting at this camp, do you hear me? We work through our differences with words and nonviolent activities only. Is that understood?" Leo asked, hands held on his hips as he looked between the two boys.

"Yes, sir," Roman and Remus muttered in unison, their muffled responses dripping with annoyance and little guilt. Their minds were elsewhere, both secretly hoping that their masks were enough to protect them from the other's blows. Neither of them had been prepared for the other's strength, their egos to big to think that they would be beat. If not, they'd both walk out of the situation with black eyes and bloodied lips, not to mention a crap ton of red scratches. A cool story in Remus's opinion, but to Roman, who had never been in a legitimate fight before, he would be horrified. People might think he was a fighter, something he kept solely for playing and daily activities, up until now. His dad would kill him, his grandfather scold him, and his butler worry over him endlessly. A part of him found this new endeavor cool, secretly hoping to keep a few small marks for a while. But longer lasting ones that would stay after the eight week camp were not worth worth any of that.

Sure, Remus's dad would be mad, and his nanny worried sick, but they were used to this kind if behavior from Remus. Many days he'd come home from school beaten or bruised, either from his adventures or his schoolmate differences. Janus had to even go to his schools sometimes to pick him up or clear things up with his principal and teachers. He was always really good at convincing people of things. Remus felt bad when his father had to come get him or patch him up, but he always tried to be better for him. He knew he wasn't easy to handle all the time, especially with only his dad and nanny there to take care of him. But, like usual, he would definitely be given more chores and a scolding. Not to mention, black eyes hurt. A whole lot. If he did have any, however, he was lucky that his nanny had been teaching him how to use makeup lately now that he was getting older. Some ice and concealer would do the trick.

"Boys! That is enough!" Gavin said as he stood by Roman's side.

"Boys!" Leo said, snapping his fingers. "Up here!" Both of the boys shook their heads and left their thoughts behind to linger on their own in favor of listening to the counselor. "Now I want you two to apologize to each other. And take off your protective gear, it must be soaking wet by now."

The two boys huffed and turned to face each other. In unison, the two reached up for their masks, dipping their heads downwards and sliding them off. As their arms fell to their sides, they lifted their heads, and immediately locked eyes. They both gasped at what they were met with.

Light brown eyes met the same pair of light brown eyes in return. They scanned each other's face, taking in their similarities. Scattered freckles splayed like the night stars, fluffy light brown hair, only partially wet as the summer sun quickly worked to dry it. Unfortunately, they both had obvious scratches and bruises along their faces, most noticeably on their cheeks and noses. It was as if both boys had the same thought process as the other. So, not only did they *look* alike, but they *thought* alike. Strange.

"Well, boys?" Leo asked after a few silent seconds. The boys looked over to him, confused.

"Sorry?" They asked in unison, the man's speech only seconds ago now long forgotten.

Leo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll take it. Now please, get to your respective cabins and clean up before dinner in the mess. If you require any assistance, the medic cabin is that way. Now go, shoo. And please, no more trouble." Flapping his hands,bhe ushered the boys along. They stared at each other, not breaking eye contact as they walked towards their cabins. Once they hit a fork in the road between their two cabins, Gavin ran up to them.

"Wow, it's like you two are twins or something! That's so weird!" He said before running off.

The boys looked back at each other, sparing one last glance before they glared and stomped off.

This was war.

Taglist: @sanderssidestrash27 @dew-drop-of-honey @ab-artist @iinyxtello @safesandersides @yep-another-fander @savetheupholstery

I hope you guys liked it!!!!!

#parent trap au #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #gmos nook #my writing #sanders sides fandom #sanders sides fanfiction

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iwoulddieforkeanureeves · 6 years ago

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A Fateful Meeting (Part 2)

It had been about a week since you had seen John, but you couldn't get the image of him out of your head. His long dark hair, scruffy beard, and deep brown eyes. You sighed, reaching down to pet the unnamed pit bull that rested at your side. When John had left, he left the pup here, so you had started taking care of him as best you could while trying to keep up with school and work. You scratched behind his ears, smiling as the pit bull's tail wagged in response. You sighed as you returned to staring down your textbook, trying your best to study for an upcoming test. You rubbed your eyes, and realized you wouldn't be able to get much work done. You flipped off your light, and plopped into bed, drifting off to sleep.

However, your slumber didn't last long as you heard an unfamiliar shuffling that woke you up. You tried to ignore it, but John's words echoed in your mind. ‘The longer I'm here, the more you're in danger.’ You slowly and quietly got out of bed, and fumbled around your bedroom for something you could use as a weapon. You remembered a knife you kept in case of a situation like this, and grabbed that. Your bare feet padded along the hardwood floor as you exited your room. You paused, the shuffling no longer audible. The hairs on your neck stood on end as anxiety began to creep into your bones.

You jumped as you heard barking, you dashed towards the living room, where the barking originated. You saw a dark figure looming over your couch, where the pup was crouching and growling. Your grip tightened on the knife in your hand, your eyes going wide as you tried to think of the best thing to do. You weren't totally helpless, you took Aikido when you were young, for self defense reasons, and you didn't want this person, whoever they were, to hurt that lovely dog. You slowly approached, but before you could attack the figure, you heard a gruff voice from your left.

"There she is! Get her!"

You froze, fuck! I didn't check the laundry room! You thought, narrowly dodging the oncoming blow from this new figure. You grabbed the assailant's wrist, using their momentum to flip them around onto their back. You looked down, and realized she was a woman. You swore as the first figure charged you, you slashed at his abdomen, and he grunted in pain. Before you could react, the woman below you swept your legs out from under you, your knife clattering to the ground. You grunted in pain, and fumbled for your knife, throwing a sloppy kick at the woman that managed to connect with her jaw. Burning hot pain shot up your leg as the man stomped on your foot, you let out a scream, but still managed to grab your knife with your hand. You slashed at the mans exposed ankle. You continued to fight these two in your cramped hallway, you did your best but you were slowly losing energy. You hadn't fought like this in a long time, and these guys were trained. You managed to stab the woman in the shoulder, but you were defenseless as the man came up behind you, clobbering you in the head with both fists. You felt shooting pain before your consciousness faded, your eyes fluttered shut and your hands went limp around the knife handle as your body slumped to the ground.

After kissing you, John had told the pup to, "Stay." And left, trying his best not to look back. Santino D'Antonio and his thugs were relentless, but he wouldn't let anything stop him from righting his wrongs. His eyes burned with rage as he remembered the image of his home in flames. Red hot anger boiled up inside of him, every trace of his old life was slowly slipping through his fingers no matter how desperately he clutched onto it. First Helen, then his car and Daisy, then his home. His photos, the bed where she slept, her bracelet, her cards. He sighed, pushing the memories out of his mind as he focused on the task at hand. He spent the next few days trying to stay low, killing or evading anyone that had taken up the contract Santino put out for him, while trying to tail the man and his hired hands.

Something that surprised him is that he couldn't stop thinking about you. Normally he was laser focused, hell bent on revenge, but he couldn't shake the image of you out of his head. Your brows furrowed together as you focused on making sure he was okay. There was so much kindness and care in your gaze, your hands so gentle as they brushed across his body. A pang of some unidentifiable emotion hit him, and he knew he had to see you again.

He wasn't expecting to arrive and see your door kicked in, the hinges loose and creaking as he slowly stepped into your home. The hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end as he drew his weapon. His mind was racing, did something happen to you? He wasn't a very religious man, but he found himself praying you weren't dead. There were obvious signs on a struggle, blood smears and droplets made a trail from the living room into your hallway, where most of the damage was. Holes in the drywall, blood sprayed on the walls and floor, in the center of it, a small business card was propped up.

John carefully picked it up and mulled over the contents. His blood boiling as he read over the cursive writing.

Mr. Wick, why don't you come down and chat with me? I have your lovely friend here as well.

Much love, Santino

He clutched the note in his fist, crumpling it. He perked up when he heard a soft whimpering from your bedroom, he went in and saw his dog laying on your bed. He let out a sigh of relief, at least he was alright. He wouldn't know what to do if his new dog and you both got hurt. He patted the pup gently on the head before standing up and glaring at the note.

He knew he shouldn't have gotten you into this mess, but it was his duty to get you out, safely.

You came to with a bag over your head. You mentally cursed, this was the last time you'd help a handsome stranger. You felt that you were bound, rope dug into your soft flesh. Pain radiated throughout your body, your head was pounding.

Suddenly, the bag was ripped off of your head, and you groaned, the bright lights hurting your sensitive eyes. You heard men in the distance growling in some language you couldn't recognize. Your head was spinning as a man grabbed your chin and pulled your face forward. "My, my, you're quite the cutie. Sorry about your head." A smooth voice rang out as the cool metal of rings pressed into your skin. Your eyes began to focus, and you saw the face of an Italian man with curly hair and piercing eyes.

You didn't reply, and opted to glare at him as you pulled your face out of his grasp. The mans smile faltered at your actions as he grabbed your face again, rougher this time. "Where is your friend? I have a debt to settle with him." He said, his tone much more threatening now.

You continued to glare at him, "I don't know what you're talking about." You snarled, trying to pull your face from his grasp again, but he tightened his grip, and slapped you across the face with the other. The heavy rings stinging you. You did your best to stay calm and impassive, but you were scared shitless. Your face stung with the impact.

The mysterious man laughed, "I think you do, miss." He shook his hand off, "My friends..." he gestured behind him, and the two people from your apartment stepped forward, "Might be able to jog your memory." The girl gave you a devious grin, and the man cracked his knuckles. "Unless you remember where he is." He stepped back.

Your stomach dropped as you saw the girl pull out a blade, "I really don't know where he is right now, I haven't seen him since I first met him." You said, your cool demeanor dropping as you let fear seep into your voice.

You closed your eyes as the woman approached you and started dragging her blade gently down your face and neck. You shivered, a tear rolling down your face.

John rushed into the building, hair slicked back, gun drawn. His eyes were laser focused as he made his way through the halls, tactfully taking out guard after guard. He had been running from Santino and those out for his bounty, but yet here he was, running directly to him. He had to, you were innocent and kind, and he couldn't let you get killed because of him.

He walked into an oddly quiet room, and whipped around and came face to face with Santino. He smiled, placing his hands in his pockets. "That woman, she's quite the fighter y'know." He began to pace around John, "Gave my acquaintances quite some cuts and bruises."

John glared, continuing to keep his gun aimed directly at Santino's head. "I was thinking... we'd repay the favor." John looked up as he heard a feminine scream above him. Santino gave him a sickening smile.

"What do you want?" He growled, glaring at Santino.

Santino simply shrugged, "Well, you know I can't just let you get away with murdering my sister. Even if it had to be done." He chuckled, tapping his fingers together. "It's so sad really, she was quite beautiful." As if on cue, another scream resonated out, and John cursed as more armed guards poured out from behind Santino.

He ducked blows, fought, stabbed and shot his way through the seemingly endless waves of men. He felt himself getting tired, he knew he had to get to you soon, before things got bad. He groaned as a man managed to pierce his shoulder with a blade, he threw the man over him onto his back and staggered out of the room, following the sound of the your moans and wails.

He kicked open the door with his foot, seeing you. His heart sank, your lip was busted and bloodied, dark lines of crimson littered your neck and collarbone. You had tears streaming down your face, and a large bruise across your forehead. The woman that groped him in the museum a few days prior continued to drag her blade down your delicate skin. He let out a guttural scream, throwing his gun down as he was out of ammunition, and tackling her to the ground, disarming her. John sprang up, adrenaline pumping through his veins at the sight of you being tortured. He turned around and clocked the man straight in the jaw before turning to you, quickly freeing you from your bonds and touching you. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)." He whispered hastily, turning back around to make sure the two were still sufficiently stunned before lifting you into his arms and hurrying out the building. He kept muttering apologies over and over again as he maneuvered his way out of Santino's base, keeping you safe.

You had lost a lot of blood, and you were floating in and out of consciousness. You felt warm comforting hands caress your face as you saw John's figure above you. You wondered if it was real or something your subconscious had presented to you.

His deep voice cut through, "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)." He whispered as he pulled you into his strong arms. You melted into his grasp, hearing his voice rumbling from his chest but what he was saying was inaudible to you.

You meekly grasped his black blazer as you saw your blood slowly seeping into his dress shirt, you felt your consciousnesses slipping from you yet again, seeing the crimson steps of the Continental in front of you before everything went black and you slumped into John's arms.

You came to, John's strong arms still laced around your waist as you both laid in bed. You gently touched your neck, your wounds had been bandaged. You pivoted slightly, turning so you could face John. He was still sleeping, you sighed as you noticed the fresh bruises absolutely covering his body. You couldn't believe he actually came and helped you, you thought you'd never see him again. You gently ran you fingers through his hair as you felt emotion welling up in you and a few tears began flowing down your face.

John opened his eyes, cupping your face in his large hand. "You came back for me." You whispered, nestling your face into his chest.

John cradled you in his arms, gently rubbing your back with his hand, "I'll always come back for you, (Y/N)." He laid a gentle kiss on your forehead. You held him tightly, never wanting to let go.

#john wick/reader #john wick x reader #john wick #john wicks dog #keanu reeves #keanu reeves/reader #keanu reeves x reader #keanu #parabellum #reader knows how to fight #fluff #angst #fanfiction #fanfic

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crewhonk · 6 years ago

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If you do not mind taking a Nameless series (which I whole-heartedly loved, by the way) prompt. What would have happened if the reader were to be captured by Hydra alongside Bucky. Would they remember more things together? Would he still be protective? I'm just generally curious about what would have taken place if that were to happen.

NO ENDGAME SPOILERS

Nameless Blurb!

Pairings: Nurse!Reader X Bucky Barnes, Nurse!Reader X Winter Soldier

Words: 1.7K

Nameless Masterlist

Everything hurt. Bucky’s body screamed at him every time his lungs tried to expand for air. His face was pressed into the dirt of his cell, and he watched the dust that was kicked up after every exhale. It danced and twirled in the sunlight provided by the one barred window and he watched it, losing track of time and waiting. Just waiting.

They had taken his arm last week-- a tactic to try to break him and leak the information that the Howlin Commandos were privy to, but nothing worked. If Bucky Barnes was anything at all he was stubborn.

Or he was until they opened the cell door.

You were there, held up by two HYDRA soldiers before being thrown in without much care for your unconscious body.

No, no, no, no. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. You and Steve and Peggy were supposed to get out and look for him. Yo were supposed to break into the base and rescue him like the damsel he felt like. He tried to crawl over to your body, praying to whatever God that was out there that you were breathing, and they hadn’t just thrown your corpse in with him.

That would suck.

He was about a foot away before the chain shackled around his wrist held him back and he let out a hoarse cry. If he had his arm-- if he was still a whole man he would be able to reach you.

“Y/N!” He shouted, tugging at the chains and crying again when they wouldn’t budge. He collapsed in on himself and screamed until your nose wrinkled and you let out a whine.

“Shhh,” You whispered, eyes still closed and brow furrowed. “My head hurts.”

Bucky’s head shot up and he pulled on the chains again, trying to get to you.

“Y/N,” He said, snot dripping from his nose and tears falling over his cheeks. “Baby, get up. Show me you can get up.”

You groaned and rolled over onto your side to face him, gasping when you opened your eyes to see him.

He was filthy, only a few slivers of skin shone from the blood and dirt caked on his face. He was shirtless, a few poorly sewn stab wounds littered his torso where there would be no vitals hit, and his pants were ripped and torn. He was barefoot too, toenails missing and infected looking.

That wasn’t what made you scream though.

There was a bandage over his shoulder, covering what used to be his arm. There were strips of skin missing, peaking out from the bandage and across his chest. They were browned with dry blood and the skin around them looked hot and irritated.

“James.” You cried, pulling yourself up enough to crawl over to him. “What the hell did they do to you?” Your soft hands cradled his cheeks and he sighed. It was the first gentle touch he’d felt in months-- maybe years.

“They tried to break me, Babygirl.” He whispered, shining eyes looking up at you. You surged forward, capturing his weak lips in your own. His breath tasted like a mixture of sour and blood and you cried into his mouth.

“You’re so strong, James. I’m here now. We're gonna be okay.” You wept, pressing your forehead against his. He let out a cry.

You were never supposed to be here. Not like this.

“Tell us where the Tesseract is.” Growled one of the masked men. Bucky spat at him, blood and phlegm coating the eye sockets of the mask.

“Fuck you.” He repeated for the ninth time. He didn’t know where Steve or Peggy would have put it. They wouldn’t know that, though. He still had leeway-- the information he may or may not know could be the very reason Bucky was still alive today.

“Fine.” Growled the man who picked up a knife from the table and twirled it in his gloved hand. “Bring her in.”

You were brought in, then. A fresh bruise blossoming red on your cheek and a wild look in your eyes. They had treated you better than himself, thank God, but now the man was walking towards you and he wanted to scream.

“Don't touch her! Don't you fucking touch her!” Bucky screamed, pulling at the ropes that bound him to the metal chair under him.

“Then tell us where the Tesseract is, or I’m gonna make her fuckin’ scream my name.” The man said, smirk in his voice, and Bucky’s vision went black around the edges. He looked to you-- stunned and scared but still defiant and shaking your head no at him. Whatever he knew, he couldn’t tell them. But then the knife went into your thigh and you screamed so loud the walls around you vibrated.

Bucky yelled.

“I don’t know! I don’t fucking know, okay! I know nothing!” He cried and his face crumpled when he pulled the blade from your thigh and watched your pants slowly grow with red.

“I figured.” The man smirked.

Bucky’s brain felt like mush. Like electrocuted mush. Mush that hurt and stung and made him want to curl up into a ball and die.

He was on the thin mattress in your shared cell-- everything seemed very far away though. The dripping from the leaky pipe echoed around the room a mile away and the cell door opened and closed. It could have been seconds or years before he felt a very familiar hand on his face. Why did he know this touch?

He opened his eyes, squinting a the light still streaming through that damn window and looked at the person touching him. She was beautiful, but she looked tired, and his brows crinkled in the middle. Why was someone like you in a place like this?

“Bucky?” She whispered, hands warm and soothing on his aching skin. Everything hurt.

“Who’re you?” He whispered, foggy mind unable to place a name to the face. He could see your heartbreak by the expression on your face.

“Y/N.” She said, without hesitation. “I made you wit four months before I told you that.” She tried to smile but it just looked painful.

He blinked slowly. Once, twice before recognition flooded his eyes.

“Doll. Shit, I’m-- I’m sorry. Today was--”

“Intense. I know. I’m here for you. I’m not goin anywhere.”

“You should though, go somewhere.”

“You and I both know that’s impossible.”

Thirty years had passed. It was a time of bright pants and big hair and frankly, the soldier didn’t care much for the ugly shirt that he had to wear or the bangs that were in his face and eyes and wouldn’t let him get a clear shot.

He just wanted to get home to Y/N. He didn’t remember her, or why he had started calling her that, but she smiled when he did and it was nice to know that he was good to someone.

He fired the gun in his hand and stayed still as people launched into action. Blood was covering the backseat, and a woman in pink was crying and screaming.

He wanted to go home to her.

So he packed up and climbed into the black truck waiting for him and sat silently while the SHEILD agents cuffed him, put that damn muzzle on and drove.

He was home soon enough, the long hallways bathed in ugly green light and he winced as he felt the all too familiar pressure in the front of his skull-- another headache brought on by the fluorescent lights.

The cell door to his room was opened and he was shoved in, stumbling only slightly before looking up and seeing her on the bed. No matter how many times he had to be frozen or put into the chair, he never, ever forgot how good she was.

Y/N.

She looked up from where she was reading a book from her place on the bed and smiled. Her thirty-year-old t-shirt was full of holes and hung off her body due to the weight she had lost, but her eyes which were full of relief at his return was enough to make his head spin.

She jumped off the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around her, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in. They were nicer to her than they were to him-- allowing her showers and actual meals rather than IV fluids, and it made him happy to see that she was better off than he was.

She hadn’t spoken to him in decades-- they had tortured her one hour for every word she spoke when they were first captured, and she had eventually been conditioned to stay silent.

He knew her though.

She pulled him into their bed shortly after, stripping her shirt off and allowing him to trace her skin with whatever he wanted. He kissed each puckered scar on her body and was gentle enough that the callouses on his fingers tickled her sides, eliciting sweet sounds of laughter through her moans. Good reward for a good mission.

They were put under once more the next day, only seeing each other when they were needed. Each time, wordlessly exchanging looks and touches to convey that while they didn’t have the best life, they were together.

It was 2014 when Soldat didn’t return home on time. She was waiting for him in her usual spot, patient as ever when she heard the gunshots and the screams. She looked up in fear when the cell door was blown off its hinges and thrown into the wall beside the bed, revealing an angry, and desperate soldier.

He stalked forward and she backed up on the bed to try to avoid his aggression before he caught her ankle and pulled her to the edge of the bed, gathering her in his arms and carrying her out of the room. She hadn't left this room in decades, always chained or sitting and the muscles she once had had long since disappeared. She would certainly need her cane for the rest of her life rather than the short stint Howard Stark had recommended all those aeons ago.

“We’re gonna get you out of here, Y/N. We’re gonna go far away from here for a long time.” His voice was gruff, but there was something there. Something minuscule that reminded of her best guy from the war.

They were gonna be fine.

#em talks!#nameless #nameless drabble #bucky barnes x reader

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watatsumi-island · 5 years ago

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......WHAT-

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ladylannisterxo · 2 years ago

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Listen. I just wanna talk. Girlllll before I get into it, I just wanna say that you have done it again!! What a phenomenal fucking story and good GOD, you were not kidding about the angst. My heart is in ruins but damn if this wasn't a beautiful, wonderful journey. NOW... to ensure I caught everything I wanted to say, I actually wrote down thoughts as I was reading sooooo just for you... real time reactions under the cut ajdaksdhsakj

"I think you saved him from becoming a monster." Shut UP! I will cry! I'm not prepared to see how this all plays out omgg!!

Legit obsessed with the fact that baby Jaehaerys is just a mini Aegon ajdgaksdak

Okay but Frostfyre is a bitching name - good for Laurel!

"Your life would be simpler without me in it." - "Simpler, perhaps. But not better." Your honor, I am in love with their friendship... really, it's all Aegon needs, I think. A friend.

It's important for me to admit that I have not read Fire and Blood buuut I did do some simple googling after the finale and not my girl saying she would like to return to The God's Eye (and honestly, now that I'm formatting this, I realize that with the way this all ended, technically, she does return because she's that damn Moonstone pendant he still wears 😭😭😭).

Not me absolutely knowing what happened at Storm's End and still getting that deep uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach - just a testament to your extraordinary writing!!

YOU'RE KILLING ME HERE!! She's gonna leave, she doesn't want to, but it's what makes the most sense for Laurel (and her). I'm dying here... DYING!!

OKAY but as a long time reader of maaaany of your fics, seeing calla lilies making a comeback in this final chapter has got me feeling some type of way. HOW DARE YOU!

SHUT UP!! "No one has told Aegon yet. Aemond doesn't want to be the one to do it. You aren't sure how." Omgg but they're besties!! What's he gonna do without her?!

Oh I am just eating UP that confrontation between Aemond and Aegon like omgg the writing is so fucking stellar and they both love her but in completely different ways and AHHHHHH!!!

Someone is in here with me. Someone with a blade. EXCUSE ME?! NO FUCKING WAY, YOU ARE NOT!!!

Well that was tense as fuck but not me getting emotional over her, Aegon, and Aemond just huddled together on the floor. I cannot HANDLE THIS!!

Biiiiiiitch (affectionate), you have RUINED me - them saying goodbye as she boards the ship to Dorne... my heart can't fucking take much more of this!

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no oh no OH NO!!!

And uhhhh yeah, that's about where I stopped writing down my thoughts just so I could focus on that INSANE ending!! OMG like there was just nothing anyone could do - it was over the second she realized what all of Helaena's prophecies meant. And AEMOND, fucking hell, my heart was ripped out in the same way I'm sure his fingernails were as he clawed at the floor trying to get to her and his baby. He'll definitely never be the same but fuck, it's got me thinking like... as the weeks turn into months turn into the next year, every decision he makes is made fully with the thought of what happened to her and Laurel in mind but I just know, beneath all that RAGE, he blames himself for sending her and Laurel away. While he's sure of himself on the battlefield, he probably spends those lonely nights second guessing himself, wondering what he could have done differently, if anything at all 😭😭😭 ah fuck, I gotta stop.

Alright, enough rambling. Babe, my love, you talented, extraordinary writer you! THANK YOU, truly, from the bottom of my heart for gracing us all with this stellar fic series! What a journey it has been and I cannot wait to go back and re-read to see what I may have missed or what makes sense knowing how it all ends. I knew you were gonna get me with the angst but I can honestly say this was not what I was expecting. Loved it all the same just as much as I love you! Congrats on finishing yet another series and I can't wait to see what you write next!! 💕💕💕

Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep? [Chapter 8: Starfall] [Series Finale]

Aemond is a fearless, enigmatic prince and the most renowned dragonrider of the Greens. You are a daughter of House Mormont and a lady-in-waiting to Princess Helaena. You can’t ignore each other, even though you probably should. In fact, you might have found a love worth killing for.

A/N: Hello all! At long last, here is the conclusion of this series. Thank you for all the love that this fic has received; I am truly thrilled beyond words to read each and every one of your thoughts, rants, outbursts, compliments, complaints, and analyses. My first idea for a story is always the ending, so I’ve had parts of this finale written in my Word Doc since before I published the first chapter. Still, it feels very surreal to have finally finished it. I hope it is worth the wait. 💜

Song inspiration: “Do I Wanna Know?” by Arctic Monkeys.

Chapter warnings: Language, violence, death and destruction, ANGST, dad!Aemond, Aegon-related chaos, prophesies for days, a tiny bit of sexual content, dragons, drama, lots of shouting, if you have not read Fire & Blood then you should know that there are SOME spoilers/allusions involving certain characters (but not that many). If you are concerned about avoiding spoilers but still want to read, please just DM me and I would be happy to tell you which part to skip. :)

Word count: 10.5k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @crispmarshmallow @tclegane @daddysfavoritesexkitten @poohxlove @imagine-all-the-imagines @nsainmoonchild @skythighs @bratfleck @thesadvampire @yor72 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @loverandqueenofdragons @omgsuperstarg @endless-ineffabilities @devynsshitposts @vencuyot @ladylannisterxo @cranberryjulce @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz @liathelioness @mirandastuckinthe80s @haezen @fairaardirascenarios @darkened-writer @weepingfashionwritingplaid @signyvenetia @crossingallmine @burningcoffeetimetravel @yummycastiel @lol-im-done @lovemissyhoneybee @nomugglesallowed @witchmoon @yoshiplushie @torchbearerkyle @sweetashoneyhoney @quartzs-posts @lauraneedstochill @nctma15 @queenofshinigamis @rapoficeandfire @hinata7346 @curiouser-an-curiouser @meadowofsinfulthoughts @imjustboredso @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @myspotofcraziness @bregarc @mikariell95 @doingfondue @justconfusedperiod @mommyslittlewarcriminal @graykageyama @elsolario

“Goodbye, Papa,” you whisper for your daughter who cannot yet speak, your cheek pressed to Laurel’s. You wave her tiny hand as Aemond and Vhagar vanish into a horizon that’s darkening like a bruise: gold, blue, violet, black, punctuated by rising stars. Encroaching thunder growls like a dragon. Lightning flashes as raindrops begin to fall from the sky. “Goodbye. Good luck. We’ll see you again soon.”

You retreat back inside the Red Keep and accompany Helaena and the children to Alicent’s rooms. As Jaehaera and Maelor play agreeably on the floor with woodcarvings of animals—and Jaehaerys mutilates a horse figurine with a toy mallet, targeting one leg at a time—you trade with the old queen: you give her a very drowsy Laurel, and she hands you her embroidery. The pattern is a simple white watchtower, but you’re so distracted thinking about Aemond and Storm’s End that you promptly botch it and tangle the threads beyond repair.

Keep reading

#y'all drop everything and read 👏 this 👏 series!!#aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #fic rec

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firexfled · 7 years ago

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Fell Childen (part 1/???)

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 6:53 PM

Prolouge: Son of Grima

How long has it been since the world fell into ruins? Days? Months? Years? It's been so long, I can't keep track. I can't even remember how long it has been since I got to see my mother alive. Ever since they announced her death, I had a feeling in my chest... Like no other. As if... She was still alive. They never found her body, so they presumed she died. As for Chrom, the past Exhalt, he was found dead. His body brought back. I remember seeing Lucina in tears. Holding her father's sword close to her. She was mourning, and had something that was close to her. As for me, I never did mourn. Sure, I did cry a little... I lied, it was a lot. Most of the time was before sleeping. Others was during study. As the years went by and the world continued to go into ruin even more by the fell dragon, Grima, we continued to fight harder for peace. One by one, our friends familes started to get slaughtered... Only leaving us children to defend our world. Lucina, the future exhalt, led the battle. As for me, I was their general tactician. I say "was" for a reason... A dark reason that I regret to this very day...

Some nights, I had these strange dreams. Dreams of seeing my mother, but... She wasn't like herself. She told me what and who I was. That in truth, I am the son of not only the greatest tactician, Robin... But I am also the son... of Grima. I continued to refuse the truth. But then when I look at the top of my right hand, it does look a lot like my mother's hand. If that is the case, then mother... Is mother really the fell dragon herself? In order to find out the truth behind everything, she gave me an option. One that I will always regret choosing. One is that I join her side and she would tell me everything I would want to know... Or that soon my body would be taken over by the fell blood and try to force me to commit homicide against one of my friends. As soon as I heard my options, I shoot up... As if I was an arrow let loose from it's bow and string. My heart was racing as I was trying to process everything. After a few days, I have decided... I packed up all my stuff... and fled in the middle of the night. And soon before I knew it, there I was, standing on the cliff, facing the six-eyed dragon, Grima... Those red eyes were burned into my memory, sending chills down my spine. And this is when I knew, at this very moment...

I am the son of Grima

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:05 PM

Chapter 1: One and the Same

After weeks of working for mother, Grima, I've gotten quite use to the surroundings of me. Even though it was pretty... Dark. But not all the time was it dark. It's actually quite interesting when you are done for the day or when you find a rest in breaks. Why? It's because I get to interact with someone very close to me. Her name is Morgan.(edited)

When I arrived, I met a perculiar firgure. The same size, height, attire, exactly like me... Except when the hood lowered, it was a female face. One that almost looks a lot like mine. Though her hair was quite messy and a bit longer, we practically looked as if we were twins. Grima explained to me that her name was also Morgan, and that she is the same as me... Well, not entirely. Different personalities, that is for sure. And we were differemt genders, as if we were part of a pararell dimension. But even so, she has that... glow around her. And it's like... One day I would be depressed, then she would cheer me up. And when she's depressed, I would cheer her up.

After talking with her, it turns out she used to have a father named Robin as well. Same name as my mother. I bet they both would look very similar, heh. We also talked much about our pasts. The same people we met, same situations, just different... Interactions. It was all very interesting. After a while, we made a promise. Even though we are not related by blood, we will look after each other's backs, no matter how big or small the situation gets. And to myself...

I promise to protect her

Chapter 2: Silence and Darkness

Today, me and Morgan was sent to stop the future children... More likely kill them. What choice did we have? Either way, they have to die... Right? Well... We were wrong. All that time of studying and planning our ambush and attack on them.... was all for nothing, as we failed

Now standing next to Morgan, head down as we stood in front of the throne room, where Grima sat at, my body trembled on the inside, my heart racing. Gods, I continued to think "This is it. This is where we die." I look over to Morgan to see her trembling as well, and I reached my hand out to hold hers, squeezing it lightly, whispering "It's gonna be okay. I'm here with you" I hope that would calm her down

Grima - Today at 7:23 PM

One job, one job! That's all these damn brats were given, yet they failed. The other brats live on! and here are these failures, with their heads bowed, right in front of me. "I am very disappointed in you two." My voice leaves my throat like a growl, and I narrow my eyes at the failures. "You were supposed to kill those damn kids, yet reports say that they are all still alive, why is that?"

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:25 PM

As I heard her voice, my heart began to race faster and faster. My head, still not looking up at the fell god.

Grima - Today at 7:30 PM

"Answer me, worms, now!" I growl again, glaring at these pathetic useless lumps of flesh. They should be better than this! they have my blood flowing through their veins! Ah, the girl finally looked up, her eyes meeting mine, but there wasn't fear in those brown orbs, oh no, she seemed very, very calm. The words that leaves her lips nearly set me into a rage! "If you want them dead so badly, why don't you kill them yourself?"

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:33 PM

"M-Morgan!" What the hell is she thinking?! Talking to Grima like that. Oh gods, she could be killed in an instant "What are you doing?!" I whisper to her "You realize what you just said?"

Grima - Today at 7:35 PM

I flicker my eyes over to the boy as he leans over and whispers into the girls ear, he was too quiet for me to make out any words, but I notice that the girl's lips start forming a smile as she whispers something back. What ever they are saying, I have a feeling that it would only make me want to burn them even more.

(Morgan's words: Don't worry, Marc~ I have a plan~)

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:38 PM

Wait, what plan is she talking about?! Did I miss something along the way? No, I know we never discussed anything about a plan. I shake my head, worried that we both might get killed together

Grima - Today at 7:41 PM

"You have quite the bite, young lady, I am afraid that I might have to cut that tongue of yours out~ or maybe rip your vocal cords from your throat?" I let out a dark chuckle, of course I would enjoy that very much, watching her bleed, and not being able to scream~ gods, just the thought of it makes me feel so alive!

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:44 PM

"No! Please don't!" I screamed out, quickly covering my mouth from my outburst. Gods, now I'M gonna probably get killed. Morgan, whatever plan you have, I have a bad feeling about it, at this rate.

Grima - Today at 7:51 PM

I glare at the boy, and snap my fingers, risen appearing and holding the boy down. And then I return my gaze back to the girl, and stand from my seat, my boots echoing against the floor. A slander hand grabs the girls chin, lifting it up, as I smile, before digging right into her throat, with my bare hand. My finger's grasping the very thing that allows the girl to make noise, and ripping it right out, there was a tearing sound, and a gurgle, I drop the removed pieces, and then turn and sit back on my chair. "...Make sure that she doesn't die of that wound, she still has use, after all~" I say to another risen, watching as it drags the girl out of the room, a trail of blood left where she was minutes before.

Turning my attention back to the boy, I grin widely. "Now, what should your punishment be~?"

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 7:54 PM

I try to get up to go after her. Gods, why did this have to happen? It's all my fault. I should have been more throughly with the planning and traps. "Why? Why did you do that? Let me go! I have to see her! She needs me!"

Grima - Today at 7:56 PM

"Now, now, darling~ Be a dear and be quiet for mommy, alright~?" I lick at the mess on my hand, as I think of what I should do to this boy. "Let me see here... how about I cut a finger or two off? perhaps a whole hand? hmm... decisions, decisions~"

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 8:08 PM

Oh gods, what is she saying? No, if that happens, I won't be able to fight like I use to. Mother, I need mother. Gods, think, Morgan, think think think. "Mother... Please... She had nothing to do with the loss! It was me... I didn't... I didn't check it all! I was the one who messed up! Please..." I cried, staring at the ground before closing my eyes tightly. Just let me go, please, I continue to think over in my head... Until I heard her voice....

Grima - Today at 8:15 PM

I suddenly get an idea. "You said you want to see her, right?" I motion a risen over to me, and then whisper into it's ear. The risen leaves, and comes back with a small blade, I take the blade, and stand up once more, walking up to the boy, and stabbing his eyes. "You better scream for me, dear~ I want to hear your misery and pain~" I whisper, as I hand the blade back to the risen. "Take him away, their punishments are over."

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 8:53 PM

Before I could process all she had said, I scream out in agony and pain as I felt the sharp blade piercing my eyes. I could feel the oozing warm liquid flowing down my cheeks. At this rate, I was wanting to die. But I didn't, just the pain and darkness that surounds me. All I could do was call out "Mother! Mother! Please! Mother!" I called out to the darkness, reaching my hands out

"Mother! Where are you?! Please!"

Grima - Today at 8:59 PM

I can hear his cries, and I just close my teary eyes myself, wanting to comfort him... but I can't... moving is too painful right now, the wound on my neck is excruciating. I just want to scream at the top of my lungs, but I can't, i can't even whimper, no noise comes out. So I am stuck here, in pain, and having to listen to the other suffer...

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 9:00 PM

And just like that... There was only silence... And darkness...

Chapter 4: Comfort Touch

I guess I fell to sleep, though I can't see. Only images I have previously seen was in my head. That was it, nothing but a sea of darkness. But where am I? "Hello?" I try to call out "Hello? Anyone there?" I try to stand up, only to fall back down. I reach my hand up to touch my eyes, only to feel a cloth that has replaced my open wounded eye flesh. I began to cry, which made the pain even worse, which made me cry even more. I never asked for anything like this. All I wanted was a normal life with a normal family... To live with mother and father... Happily... "Why... Please... Somebody... Anyone... Please!" I cry out once more

Grima - Today at 9:08 PM

I reach my hand to his, listening to his cries is painful... so very painful... I look at him from the corner of my eye, knowing that moving my head would be too painful. I want to tell him soothing words, but I can't, it's not fair!

Aspiring Tactician Morgan - Today at 9:12 PM

"W-who's there? Who are you? I can't see... Morgan? Morgan?" I tear up, remembering what had happened to her. The pain and sufferinf she has gone through. I failed her. I couldn't protect her. Only feel her touch my hand, I cry into it "Morgan, I'm so so sorry... I failed... I failed... I broke my promise.... I failed, I'm so sorry...." I cried. Gods, I'm so pathetic. Why does she have to be the one to go through pain? She's done nothing wrong! Morgan, please tell me you can hear me...

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mothwingisalesbian · 3 years ago

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PROLOGUE Kayla I chased after my prey, transforming myself into a cat. I have done this so many times it was absolutely seamless. My bones, flesh, and mind all worked in sync to transform myself into whatever animal I pleased. The transformation of my body only took me about 10 seconds and then I was back onto my prey, the bastard's going down, the paws on my cat form led me through the dark streets of New Eskards. The man I was hunting actually thought he could outpace me by transforming himself into a dog and sprinting forwards, but he was mistaken. He then made the fatal mistake of looking behind him and slowing down; I took this as a prime and lucky opportunity to change back into my human figure, my long and curly blue hair gently moving as I leaped down from the rooftop that I was on. I pulled out my knife, it's dark ceramic blade barely visible in the black of night, the sight of the blade filled me with even more determination to hunt the man down and end his life. I sped up my chase and caught up to him, I tripped him up and relished his groan of pain as his body hit the concrete. I then stepped on his stomach pressing my high tops into his gut with as much force and hate as I could muster. I pointed my knife's blade towards his neck and pulled my fanged mask down with my free hand and looked at the man directly in his fear-filled eyes. I watched tears roll down his cheeks as he knew that these were his final moments. "Goodbye father, I only wish you were my first victim." I took my knife and ran it across his throat causing blood to trickle out but then after a second blood came flowing out rapidly. I finally killed him. I pulled out my pencil and the newspaper from last week that was advertising my last murder on the headline, and I wrote in neat and cursive hand writing as I always do, he was much more of a monster than me. I grabbed my knife and ran, jumped, and turned into a bird as I flew into the night sky. I halted temporarily only to turn back around to look at my masterpiece. The blood now spilling out less but still leaving his shirt a dark shade of red. All I felt was pride, happiness, and no remorse. The blue wings of my bird shape kept me still in the air until I turned back around and flew back towards the subway of New Eskards. That man was a horrid being; he deserved a worse death, was my only thought. I landed then in a dark alley next to the subway and turned back into a human. My emerald green eyes had to adjust to the darker area. I pulled off my fanged mask that had been resting on my chin and folded it to put into the pocket of my ripped-up, black hoodie. My next course of action was to cut my hand just in case someone were to notice blood anywhere on me and then to tear a piece of my hoodie to bandage my hand that was slowly seeping out blood from the fresh wound. I wrapped the soft material tightly around the wound and glanced around making sure there was no one watching me. I stifled a cry of pain as the wound started spilling out more blood. Shit, I don't usually cut it this deep, I thought as I pressed my bleeding hand to my hoodie and used my non-bleeding hand to pick up the knife square. The square fit perfectly into her secret pouch that I had stitched into the main one myself. Jai taught me how to sew, I wonder if they miss me. Wait what if they're on my case damn, hopefully, Jai led them off my trail but, I doubt they would do that. Jai always did say want to be a detective, I thought as I willed my body to walk painfully out of the dark and narrow alley. When I had arrived at the subway station the bleeding had almost stopped but it hadn't quite. "Hey you, girl, is your hand okay?" Someone walking into the station asked her. They might recognize me from the news, just play it cool okay? I reassured myself as the person approached me with worry in his eyes. "Yea, I'm fine sir don't worry it's just a minor cut." I said backing away from the man going closer towards the subway entrance attempting to avoid the awkward

conversation. "Are you sure ma'am it looks pretty deep, I'm sure I could help?" He said, stepping closer to her and peering at the wounded hand. Think this though we have 2 options, 1) just convince him that I'm fine and continue to the house but then we have option 2) I could tell him that I need help and that I have a "friend" in that alley, then leave him there sitting duck to my knife. Let's go with plan 2, I thought maliciously. "Actually I take it back, it's quite painful sir, I have a friend back in that alley over there, she's shy so I was going to get us tickets and let her wait over there, '' I said, pointing to the alley that I had just come from. "If you would come over there with me just to make sure I don't fall or something, my friend can help me after." I said walking back towards the man. Tsk, he probably thinks that he can pull something on me and that there is no "friend" well, he's right on one of those things, but then again that was bloody horrid acting, I should've taken those damn classes, I thought as the man walked towards her, he had intent shining clear in his eyes. I fought every instinct her body had to walk away from the man, the only way she was able to go towards him was the thought that another man like him won't be in this world. (I acknowledge that the dude in the end makes like zero sense in his personality. Also it's just a rough draft so feel free to hate on it and tips or anything at all is supported. Also thanks for reading)

#writing #my writing #original shit #idk man #books & libraries

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