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ladyartemesia · 4 years ago

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The Luna

◐ PART VII of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Series Masterlist ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Part IV ◐ Part V ◐ Part VI ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Hard Mature 18+ (for this installment)

Warnings: this one is a little darker... implied violence, mentions of blood, ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming, sexual innuendo, discussion of violence relating to ritual combat, possessive behavior, injuries and discussion of injuries, discussions or ruts, (non-explicit) kidnapping and drugging, its not as bad as it sounds, but it is definitely a bit darker...

Word Count: 4200

Author’s Note: You have no idea what your support has meant to me. After getting the dreaded Covid it was awhile before I had the energy to work on this. Truly your asks and your messages and comments...they made me so happy. You made me believe that people wouldn’t forget about this story. I am so grateful you were able to wait. As always, my angels @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @underthejoon were the best betas and the best friends anyone could ask for. My thanks to ALL of you for helping me bring this story to life! I don’t know what I would do without your daily encouragement and your daily support. You guys are the heartbeat of this story.

———◐———

Fifteen Years Ago...

———◐———

“It can’t be-”

“Run for the elders! Quickly!

“Red smoke rises from the Luna’s hearth!”

The red smoke was invented by the first wolf known to mate a witch. Legend has it that their bond lent him some of her magic and with it he created a mystical powder that unleashed bloody plumes like knife slashes in the clouds.

It was a distress call.

A wolf in danger or in need could throw the powder (usually into their fireplace) and the red smoke would rise - drawing others to their aid.

No fire was needed and the strange shimmering clouds it produced could even be seen on a moonless night.

“What happened? Where is the Luna?”

The chief elder was still out of breath, having charged over from his chambers to find Isa in hysterics.

“She’s gone! Something scared her! It triggered a half-shift!”

His eyes widened in fear and alarm.

“She’s too young to half-shift. The energy it would take-”

Isa broke into sobs again.

The girl was only five years old. She and her wolf were too volatile to merge safely. The wolf would be frightened - it would run.

Eventually the child might regain control, but she would have no way of knowing where she was or how she got there…

And she would be weak. The effects of the shift were too much for a pup that age.

The chief elder felt true terror grip his heart.

“Call for the alphas - immediately!”

Although they were technically one of the oldest bloodlines in the village, Park Clan had only five families to its name - all betas.

Except for one.

Park Jimin was the first alpha ever born to the Parks and as such he became the head of his family on the day of his birth - officially the youngest clan leader in history.

When the call for alphas spread through the village, nine year-old Jimin was roused from his bed to serve on behalf of his people.

Clan alphas were required to report, regardless of their age.

“I don’t have to tell any of you what is at stake. Our pack has been entrusted with the Luna’s bloodline. Her safety is our sacred commission.”

The woods were no place for a child. If fluctuating temperatures and possible starvation weren’t bad enough, there were wild bears, packless ferals, rogue witches, snakes, and worst of all-

Unblessed wolves—animals without a human heart. They were by far the most pressing danger to the little girl.

“Surely young Park can remain at home for this,” Jeon Jinseok pressed. The boy was barely older than his grandson, Jungkook, and he was reluctant to endanger another pup needlessly.

Some quiet murmurs of assent could be heard around the elder’s chambers, however the chief elder himself shook his head sadly.

“I understand your concern… but the law is the law. Every clan alpha is sworn to such a task. He took an oath after his first transformation-”

“He was seven-”

“An oath is still an oath.”

All eyes turned to the gentle voice in the corner. The Park alpha looked impossibly small and soft.

But his gaze burned with determination.

“It is my right and duty to seek the Luna alongside all of you.” His round little jaw clenched stubbornly. “I’m not afraid.”

The sound of bones and sinew shifting filled the air as one by one the clan alphas fell to their wolf forms and took off into the forest.

Until only a small silver wolf remained.

The chief elder sighed.

The boy would not undergo the Change for another six years. The mental link between his wolf and human forms was not yet complete. It was difficult for information to pass from one to the other.

“You are the wolf force of Park Jimin.”

After a moment the wolf nodded.

“You were called here because the Luna has gone missing and you must find her if you can. Search the woods until your wolf force can endure no longer and then return. If you find the child, bring her home as soon as possible.”

The young wolf nodded again and then disappeared into the night.

It was cold.

The last thing you remembered was a loud noise. It was too close - you panicked-

Then there was heat and pain and running and now this-

Darkness and barren trees looming over you as far as your frightened eyes could see.

“...Hello?”

Your hands were bleeding. Tears began to slide softly down your cheek as your lips trembled.

“H-Hello?”

Jimin had never been allowed into the forest alone. A myriad of new shapes and odd smells assaulted his senses as he ran.

He had only seen you a handful of times.

Bright silver eyes with a smile that could set even the coldest heart into bloom.

Now you needed him.

And he was going to save you.

It was not a question or a matter of chance in his mind. He was meant to find you. It was as if a thread from his chest was bound to a thread from yours and his wolf knew to follow it without question or thought for its significance.

I’m coming, little Luna. Hold on.

Your nose was not yet fully developed, but the stench creeping through the air toward you was unmistakable.

Unblessed.

A soulless wolf.

The last time you encountered it was after a hunt. Your father killed one who attacked him and he brought it home for you to scent.

So you could recognize the smell of danger.

Gradually two shining eyes emerged from the darkness, yet unlike the wolves of your village, these were dark and fathomless-

Hungry.

You couldn’t tell much about its age or coloring, it was too thin - too dirty, but the bared teeth and steady progress closer signaled its intent clearly.

“Please,” you whispered, as it crouched back on its hind legs, preparing to strike.

Tears blurred your vision as you heard it leap forward.

But the strike never came.

Another wolf tackled it to the ground before it could reach you. The two of them tangled viciously in the moonlight; a terrifying mass of snarling and claws.

The smaller fighter was already bleeding, but he clamped down on his opponent’s throat in the first hit and hung on to it even as the animal snapped and scratched brutally at his skin.

Jimin could feel his strength beginning to fail him. The pain was excruciating, but he had to endure. If he let go, he was lost-

You were lost.

So he held.

And at last the soulless wolf collapsed on top of him.

For a moment, all was quiet.

Jimin felt the wounds over his hide begin to tug at the edge of his consciousness. Accelerated healing could only do so much... He was hurt badly.

Then two small hands began to push at the unblessed corpse. Small huffs and heaves poured from you as you worked to free him from beneath his defeated foe.

“Don’t be afraid, Silver,” you grunted, “Momma says the healing works best if you can get warm.”

With one final heave you disposed of the beast as best you could, then moved to wrap your body around your injured champion.

“I can help,” you whispered, letting the tears fall freely. His soft whimpers were the only reply you received as you snuggled in closer, running your hands gently over the soft fur.

The young wolf’s eyes were already beginning to lose focus.

“Please goddess,” you begged into the night. “Please save him.”

Then the two of you drifted into a heavy sleep.

Jimin opened his eyes again just as the dawn broke.

He was still in wolf form, but the pain of his injuries had lessened considerably.

Either that or he was becoming numb.

His eyes dropped to the figure curled up next to him and his heart stirred. You were so pale… and he could feel your small body shivering violently against his chest.

She will not last much longer...

It took nearly everything he had to stand to his feet and nudge you awake.

“Will you bring me back, Silver?” you asked weakly.

Jimin nodded and the two of you stumbled forward into the forest, trusting the vague recollections of his wolf instincts to lead you home.

Isa was beside herself with worry. Wolves came and went throughout the night-

But there was still no sign of you.

And the odds of a child surviving the woods alone with no heat and no protection were slim at best.

Her hands shook as she gathered feed for the horses from the storeroom near the back of the house. She willed herself to complete the task - any task - in an effort to busy her mind and perhaps achieve a moment of respite.

Her hand closed around the back door handle and she started forward - only to nearly lose her balance over something lying on the porch.

The bucket of feed dropped from her grasp, sending kernels of grain in all directions.

Two bodies lay in a heap at her feet, clutching one another desperately. The Luna and her silver wolf were covered in matted blood and dirt.

But they were alive.

Isa began to scream, drawing out the other two occupants of the house; her husband Roojin and his younger sister, a beta healer named Ryn.

“Oh my goddess,” Ryn gasped, “that’s the Park alpha! I heard some of the elders saying that he hadn’t checked in last night!”

“Get them inside. If we don’t act quickly we could lose them.”

Roojin tried to lift you away from the wolf, but the action was enough to rouse you and you immediately began to kick and scream frantically.

“No! I won’t leave him!” you sobbed, wrapping your body even tighter around the injured pup. “Silver, wake up! Please wake up!”

“Baby you need to let him go! We have to treat him!”

But you were frantic, refusing - violently - to be separated from your rescuer.

Ryn was eventually forced to grab a syringe from her field kit to sedate you.

Isa carried your limp body to the fireplace and began to peel off your wet clothes while Ryn and Roojin dealt with Jimin’s injuries in the kitchen. Blood dripped over the tabletop and puddled ominously on the floor while they worked.

“It looks like he was attacked.” Ryn’s eyes began to water. “What a brave little boy.”

“How the hell did he survive this?”

“I don’t know, but without a healing touch he’ll die.” She ripped her gloves off and rolled up her sleeves. “Stand back.”

Twenty minutes later Isa and Roojin caught the young healer as her legs gave out from under her. She had poured the majority of her energy into restoring the young Park alpha - perhaps more than was strictly safe-

But he would survive and that was all that mattered.

“I must contact the elders,” Isa murmured as she helped Ryn to a seat near the hearth. “In all the chaos I forgot to tell them that we found her.”

Roojin sighed, letting his eyes drift back to the table.

“That pup brought her back, but I wonder if they’ll even believe it. I wouldn’t - not if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“No...” Ryn whispered from the chair. “You can’t tell them about the boy.”

“Why not? He’s the only reason she’s still alive. He deserves to be recognized.”

“You don’t understand,” she shook her head weakly. “His clan is nothing. They have no power - no other alphas. This will make him a target. The alpha pups will challenge him and the stronger clans will see him as a threat to their influence…”

She pulled herself upright and limped over to the table where the young wolf slept.

“But he's just a child….and small for his age at that. He has no powerful clansmen to protect him from the ramifications of this.”

Her hands clenched to fists.

“When his human form returns, he won’t remember saving the Luna. We’ll take him to his mother’s home at nightfall - make it seem like he wandered back. He may garner some respect for surviving the woods, but then they’ll leave him alone… and he can go on living his life in peace.”

Ryn turned to face them both with a determined expression.

“We owe him that.”

“Where is the silver wolf? Where have you taken him?”

As soon as the sedative wore off you reached for the boy once again, only to find that he was gone.

“The silver wolf was hurt very badly, sweetheart. Your aunt carried him away to be treated.”

“I have to go with him! He needs me!”

“No, honey - you can’t-”

Isa pulled you into her arms and you collapsed into helpless sobs. The last twenty-four hours had finally caught up with you.

You were too weak to fight back.

“Luna… the silver wolf is in danger. Are you willing to keep him safe?”

You nodded fiercely, letting the flow of your tears soak through your mother’s sleeves.

“Then you must never tell another soul that the silver wolf saved you. No one can know that he was with you in the forest.”

Your eyes narrowed in confusion.

“But-”

“You will tell everyone that you found the way back alone. Do not mention the silver wolf.”

Isa lifted your chin till your eyes met hers.

“Promise me, Luna.”

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest as you thought of your champion. He had spared you from a gruesome fate and you did not even know his name.

You wanted so desperately to thank him.

Last night, you were so cold - so afraid - that you hadn’t said it...

Now you never could.

So instead you would protect him - no matter what it cost.

“I promise.”

———◐———

Today...

———◐———

“I don’t like him.”

Jimin tilted his head slightly toward his best friend.

“Who?”

Taehyung took a long sip of water then moved his hand to cover his mouth. To an outside observer he would appear to be wiping excess liquid from his lips.

“The senior envoy from the Iron Claw pack.” He shook his head. “Something about him is off. He’s ill at ease.”

All the major packs of the mountain nations dispatched representatives to greet and solidify their relations with the new Alpha.

Any pack who failed to send a proper delegation risked a diplomatic incident.

The first twenty-four hours held great significance when it came to the transfer of power. The official term for the tradition-packed period between the revelation of the Alpha and his ultimate reunion with the Luna was called “The King’s New Moon.”

The new moon was the darkest phase of the lunar cycle and the immediate separation from his mate was meant to be a test of the Alpha’s restraint and bearing.

Jimin wanted to put his fist through a wall.

He missed you.

Fighting Namjoon was nothing compared to the torture of this bureaucratic circus.

As the day progressed he was extremely grateful to have Yoongi and Taehyung at his side. Yoongi agreed to act as interim Praetor while Namjoon recovered and he and Taehyung were quick to fill in any knowledge gaps Jimin had with regards to protocol.

The first round of ceremonial greetings between packs dragged on more than an hour before the bell struck for a brief recess. In fact, until Taehyung’s rather strange pronouncement, nearly every moment played out with boring predictability.

Though there was one notable surprise.

Apparently the Iron Claw pack had just undergone a change of leadership and was now under the command of a female alpha named Azira Kai.

Authority in the Iron Claw pack was traditionally decided through combat, and Azira beat nearly thirty-five challengers to ascend as queen.

Female alphas were extraordinarily rare. Jimin knew they existed, but Azira was the first one he’d ever heard of.

Iron Claw’s senior envoy delivered the news himself at the start of the ceremony and personally conveyed the queen’s well wishes.

Jimin eyed the representative in question speculatively from his corner of the table. At first glance the man seemed much like every other emissary gathered in the crowded hall to fulfil centuries old obligations. But Taehyung had always possessed a strange sense about people.

His instincts could not be easily dismissed.

“I will keep that in mind,” he whispered as he sent the young man a courteous nod.

The sun had already begun to set when a messenger from the chief elder’s chambers arrived at your door. At long last the ceremonial requirements were drawing to a close and soon the elder’s council would be sending you instructions.

However...‘soon’ could mean anything from twenty minutes to five hours.

“You might as well rest while you can,” Jin teased with a salacious wiggle of his brows. “Who knows what strenuous activity you might find yourself involved in when they finally let that boy loose.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to pretend that your cheeks weren’t burning with embarrassment.

“I will rest, but not for any reason you’re thinking.”

Truth be told, your nerves were a bit… frayed.

A frustration was building within you and nothing seemed to satisfy it. You weren’t even sure what you were wanting, but you definitely wanted it.

“Of course not,” your cousin chuckled as you gathered your gloves and wandered back to the bedroom.

An hour later Jin’s boredom found him snuggled up on the couch near the fireplace reading over an old cookbook from your mother’s pantry.

“Heavens… no wonder Aunt Isa’s kimchi is so dry. This is a disgrace.”

Suddenly the front door began to shake and pound violently. Strange smells carried through the air and his eyes widened.

Foreign wolves.

He drew in a deep breath and immediately growled in frustration.

Foreign alphas.

A small bowl of red powder sat on the mantle above the hearth. Jin just barely managed to toss it into the flames before the door splintered off its hinges.

“Hello boys,” he drawled, unleashing a massive dose of pheromones while the knives strapped to his forearms slid smoothly to his hands. “What brings you here?”

“I just heard the strangest news,” Min Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the small scrap of paper passed to him by one of the council aides.

“Oh?”

The next set of guild masters were making their way to Jimin at a snail’s pace. It would be several seconds before he needed to greet them.

“One of the healers sent word that Namjoon has disappeared from his assigned recovery room.” He shook his head curiously. “Where do you suppose he’s gone?”

Jimin’s eyes widened.

That mangy mutt. He’s probably bent Yunli over every surface of her brother’s house by now. Goddess above! He couldn’t hold out for six more days?

“I’m sure I have no idea.”

I should have killed him. This is a disaster. He can barely walk, how does he expect to-

“The Miner’s Guild is honored to serve at the pleasure of the Alpha.”

Jimin nodded regally and forced up a pleasant smile.

“The honor is entirely mine, Master Lee. I look forward to-”

A loud crash split the solemn hush of the room as a young member of the council guard burst through the heavy wooden doors.

“Red smoke! Red smoke rises from the Luna’s hearth!”

Jimin felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

Chaos erupted immediately.

“Call for the guards!”

“We must notify the healers.”

“The messengers just spoke to her-”

“Is it an attack?”

“ENOUGH!”

The Alpha’s voice cut across the assembly with authoritative resonance.

Every eye turned to him in expectation.

But he could only think of you.

“Jung, lock the building down. Take your clansmen and seal off every entrance.”

Murmurs began to stir through the hall as Hoseok directed his people toward the access points, but he ignored them.

“Choi. Make for the healers. Have a dozen of them meet us there.”

Jimin was already heading for the door. The deadly length of his claws flashed ominously in the firelight.

“Kim, Min, Jeon - with me.”

The three alphas in question fell in step behind him without a word.

The scene at the Luna’s home was nightmarish.

Jimin ran to your room immediately, but all he found was a broken window and the lingering scent of your fear.

His wolf howled in anguish as he fell to his knees and screamed in rage.

At the front of the house four badly beaten bodies lay strewn about the kitchen and living room area. Most of the furniture was destroyed and the scent of carnage soaked the air.

“Jin!”

The omega stood at the center of the rubble. There was a nasty slash running up his right leg and another grievous wound near his ribs.

But his arms were wrapped around a massive foriegn wolf with the thin blade of his favorite knife pressed against the intruders throat.

“What happened here?” Yoongi gasped. “And that smell-” he moved his hand to cover his nose.

“Pheromones,” Taehyung nearly gagged.

His eyes fell to the corpses - examining their injuries with a critical gaze.

“Jin, you dangerous bastard.”

The omega simply smiled and forced the prisoner onto his knees.

“I don’t understand…” Jungkook shook his head.

“He flooded them with omega pheromones... These four were unmated.” The Kim alpha let out a cold chuckle. “He triggered their ruts… and they killed each other over him.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened.

Male omegas really were terrifying.

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed and he considered the scene.

“None of this makes sense. The scent markers are clearly from the Iron Claw pack. They didn’t even bother to mask…”

Jungkook and Yoongi began to search the bodies for any hint of their motives or identity when Jimin returned from your room. His fury was palpable in the air around him.

“Why would anyone kidnap a Luna?” he snarled. “The divine bloodline is sacred to all wolves. Who would be so reckless?”

Jin shook his head.

“I don’t know.” His knife twisted into the prisoner’s neck. “But he does.”

Jimin crouched down in front of the foreigner, fighting every urge in his soul to tear the mountains apart for his mate.

“Where is she?”

The prisoner sneered.

“You may be a powerful Alpha, but you are not of my pack or my blood. I’ll never tell you anything.”

“Oh,” Jimin’s eyes flashed with golden fire, “I think you will.”

Heavy.

That was how you felt.

Your body was sore (like it had been tossed and carried a long distance) and your mind was out of focus (as if everything around you was moving either too quickly or too slowly - honestly you couldn’t quite tell).

You remembered being drugged; some sort of compound pressed against your nose and mouth.

Glass from the window shattered onto your face…

Then unfamiliar scents and unfamiliar hands closed in on all sides.

Too fast for you to react.

Too shocking for anyone to have predicted.

Nothing like this had ever happened and there was no reason to believe it would.

To harm a Luna was sacrilege.

It was simply not done.

What could drive men to such a course of action?

You should be afraid; terrified even.

But you weren’t.

Your eyes fluttered open to take your new surroundings. You could vaguely see the shape of seven or eight wolves - alphas by the smell of them-

And then you smiled.

It wasn’t your usual impish grin or anything close to soft or inviting.

It was a cold twist that crept over your lips as you watched your abductors set up their camp.

After a moment, one of them noticed your strange expression.

“Looks like the little Luna hit her head on the way here,” he called out to his comrades with an amused snort. “You should have been more careful with her, Mac.”

He shook his head and made his way over to where you were tied up. The young alpha reeked so heavily of sweat and self-importance, you almost gagged.

“What’s got you so amused, Miss Luna?”

It was more of a taunt than a question, but your smile widened nonetheless.

“My mate is going to kill you.”

Shock flickered over his features for just a second before he threw his head back and laughed.

“We’ll be long gone before your sweet little alpha even knows we’re here.” He gripped your chin between his fingers and you snarled. “We masked our scent as soon as we got you - and there isn’t a wolf alive that could track our crew through the woods.”

“You’re wrong,” you whispered.

Jimin’s face flashed through your mind - followed immediately by another memory, buried deeply, but never forgotten—

of a frightened little girl and the silver wolf who braved the forest and fought a monster to save her.

“He’ll come for me - no matter what precautions you’ve taken.” You leaned forward a bit, letting the conviction in your gaze blaze through to the depths of your captor’s soul. “And then - he’ll come for you.”

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just-a-really-tall-girl-tbh · 3 years ago

Text

Grounded

Summary: Y/n is kidnapped and forced to reveal secrets of the pack

Pairing: Derek X Reader

Warnings: Blood, torture, swearing

Word count: 2605

Original piece please don’t copy

The school bell rang for the final time that day, a collective sigh of gratitude echoed in the room, the teenagers grateful to be released from the maths teacher’s class. Gathering your books, you stacked them in a neat pile before exiting the room, offering a small smile to your defeated teacher. It wasn’t her fault maths sucked and no one enjoyed it, you did feel bad for her on some level but also who the hell would willingly dedicate their life to teaching numbers?

Entering the hallway, you made your way through the sea of teenagers, everyone desperate to go home for the weekend. Reaching your locker, you grabbed the couple books you needed, shoving them into your backpack, thinking about the homework you had due on Monday you sighed. The door to your locker slammed shut before you could close it.

“Hey, you ready?” Stiles smiled.

“I told you I can walk home.” You rolled your eyes, walking away from the boy. Surprised by your quick movement, Stiles jogged to catch up to you, throwing an arm lazily around your shoulders.

“I know you can walk home but why would you when you have me?”

Exiting the main doors of the high school, you welcomed the fresh warm air, the smell of angsty teens left behind you. Reaching the end of the pavement, you saw the jeep parked a few cars away.

“Stiles I want to walk.” You turned to face the boy.

“Y/n, you heard what Derek said okay? All these recent attacks? The break ins and thefts? He doesn’t want you alone.” Stiles tried to reason with you. Knowing the recent spike in criminal activity was less than likely to involve the supernatural, you felt safe walking the 20-minute trip home. In fact, you enjoyed the peace it brought you. Half of the walk was through the woods, a quiet haven from the busy high school, and being autumn, you relished in the yellow and orange leaves that swept through the small woodlands.

“Stiles. It’s 20 minutes. I’ll text you when I get home okay?” Stiles sighed.

“You know Derek is going to kill me if I let you, you know, that right? You like the idea of alive Stiles because I do! And I am not letting you be the reason I don’t make it to my 20’s okay?”

“Derek doesn’t have the balls to kill you.” You turned on the heel of your foot, headed towards the woods, leaving a defeated Stiles in your wake.

“I’m telling Derek you said he has no balls!” He called after you. You let out a small laugh, grabbing your headphones from your backpack, and your phone from your pocket, you scrolled through your playlist, deciding today was the perfect day for (Your current favourite song).

Entering the woods, you felt a rush of calm wash over you, the stressful week was pushed to the back of your mind, your thoughts centred on the surrounding woods. You stepped over exposed roots and around large bushes, glancing up at the sky you watched as the wind swept through the foliage, the ageing leaves dancing in the light breeze. The sun peaked through the cracks, determined to reach the forest floor, providing the perfect amount of light for your stroll. The floor of the woods had been coated in fallen leaves, leaving a blanket of red and orange below your feet. Taking a moment to stop and appreciate the tranquillity the forest provided you, you felt your phone buzz in you pocket.

Home yet? I’m this close to sending out a search party!

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head you began typing a response.

You need to…

Before you could finish you felt a knock to your head, your vision distorted, the soft sound of music playing through your headphones which were now next to you on the forest floor, was the only thing you could hear before everything went black.

***

Another blow straight to your stomach knocked the wind out of you. Coughing and spluttering you attempted to regain your breath, each inspiration hurting more than the last.

“Oh, you are so going to regret that.” You mumbled.

Leaning to the side of the chair you spat a mixture of saliva and blood to the ground, you couldn’t tell where the source of the blood was coming from, maybe your lip, or maybe the inside of your mouth. Too many lacerations to your face meant it all blended into one.

You raised your eyes to meet your rival, struggling to see through the blood you saw one man wiping his fists on an old rag, your blood coating his knuckles. He faced a woman to your left, who sat with one bent knee up on a bench. Her back leaning against the wall adjacent to you, a smug grin on her face.

You rotated your wrists which were bound behind you, the thick rope digging into your skin. Your ankles were bound too, tied to the legs of the wooden chair you sat on.

“You’re going to tell us what we want sweetie, its just a matter of how beat up that pretty face is going to be before you tell us.” The woman commented, as she played with her fingernails, pushing the cuticles back. If she was trying to look disinterested, she was doing a great job. But you were ready for this. You trained for this. You knew what was coming, and if it meant keeping your friends, the pack, safe, then you would gladly take whatever they threw at you.

The mans fist connected with your jaw once more, snapping you out of your daze. The room began to spin around you, and your vision blurred. Trying to recenter yourself you pulled at your wrists, the pain of the rope grinding into your skin giving you something to focus on.

“Alright careful there, big guy, we need her conscious if we’re going to get that information.” The woman stood from her seat, striding slowly over to you, before bending at the waist in front of you. She reached out to grab your face, but as soon as her fingers made contact with your skin you pulled away. A stern look, on your face made the woman let out a small laugh.

“You’re a tough one aren’t you.” She turned her head, almost admiring your battered body before her. “Too bad that doesn’t mean shit around here.” Grabbing your hair, she yanked your head back, exposing your neck to the room. Moving to stand behind you she held out her other hand, gesturing towards the man in front of you. Without a word exchanged, the man grabbed a knife from a nearby table, its blade glinting in the moonlight the small window above you allowed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea who you are dealing with do you?” The woman whispered in your ear, her grip on your hair only tightening as she neared the knife to your throat. You felt the cold edge, lightly cross your neck, not enough to pierce the skin, but enough for you to avoid swallowing.

Taking a deep breath in you closed your eyes. Grounding yourself was apart of your training, something that was drilled into you from the beginning. Breathing in again, you picked up on the different smells the room produced, sweat from the man in front of you, poorly masked by his cheap cologne. The sweet smell of the woman’s hair from behind, her locks dangling beside your face. The overwhelming metallic smell of blood being the most potent. You changed your focus to your heartbeat. Feeling it pounding against your chest begging to be released you pictured your heart slowing, its contractions reducing with every breath you took. Steadying your breathing was next. Cautious of the blade still connected to your neck you breathed in through your nose, holding in for a few seconds before releasing softly through your mouth. Repeating those steps, you were able to regain some stability. You were still in the same crappy scenario but at least now you were calmer. A panicking person is an interrogators wet dream. A calm person, their nightmare.

Sensing your self-control increase, the woman let go of your hair, moving the knife from your neck to the table beside the man. Standing before you once more, she knelt in front of you, keeping one knee up for balance, she waited for your eyes to open once more. Regaining the control, you almost lost, you felt strong enough to open your eyes once more. Staring at you the woman barely moved, she was searching your eyes for something, her expression a mixture of shock and impressed.

“You’re not afraid.” Her words barely above a whisper. Your only response was a return glare. A small smile creeping on to the face of your kidnapper. “They trained you well.”

Standing, she turned to the man behind her, whispering something in his ear before turning back to face you, her arms crossed against her chest. The man dropped the rag he was still holding and left the room, the sound of the door locking behind him.

“Let’s cut the bullshit honey. You have information I need. And I know I’m not going to break you, not by torturing you anyways. So, let’s try something else, shall we?” The woman began to pace back and forth in front of you, the small room only allowing her a few steps before being forced to turn around again. Your eyes followed her, left and right, before she stopped in front of you once more, still facing forward.

Taking in a sharp breath, she spoke. “How’s your sister doing?” She turned to face you. Refusing to let her know she was finally making some progress with you, you remained staring at her. Resuming her pacing she continued speaking.

“She’s what 5 now? Gosh so young. But you know what they say right? They grow up so fast.” Your eyes tracked the woman, more intently than before. This woman knew your family. Something that was always off limits when the pack was involved. Your attempts at shielding them from the supernatural had been successful, keeping that part of your life private even from Derek. And here this woman stood, threatening them. Threating to take away your motivation to make the world safer. Unfazed by your lack of reaction the woman carried on.

“Soon enough she’ll be going to high school, making friends, maybe even realising who her sister really is.” She stopped before you once more, bending at the waist she placed her hands on the arms of the chair you were bound to. “You didn’t think you could protect them, forever did you?” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. No amount of calm breathing could ground you now. “Aw babe.” Her hand raised to your cheek, ready to wipe away the falling tear. You only pulled away from her once more, hating the way her skin on yours felt. “Don’t tell me I hit a nerve, did I? Sucks doesn’t it. Well, there is one way of ensuring your little family stay naïve to the world around them.” She stood tall once more, her voice now deeper, more sinister than before. “Tell me what I want to know.”

You had no choice, right? She threatened your family, your sister. You protected them from so long, only for you to be the reason they are in danger. Looking down at your lap, tears hit your thighs unable to control them you simply let them fall. Taking a deep breath, you looked up at the woman before you, a smirk present on her face which made it so much harder to say what you were about to. But the images of your sister raced through your mind. The way her hair shone in the autumn sun, the way her smile reached her eyes when she was really, truly happy, the way she greeted you after school every day by running down the front path directly into your arms. That was the highlight of your day, finishing school and-

Wait

You never responded to Stiles.

You never texted him back, and the kidnappers were kind enough to bring your phone into the room with you – hoping to get some information.

Your eyes moved to the door behind the woman, a loud crash followed by a heavy grunt sounded from behind the entranceway. The woman whipped her head around, only to be met by silence. She slowly approached the doorway.

“Adrian…?”

Silence

The woman turned back to you, unsure of herself. You only had a small smirk as a response. Before she could question you, the door busted open, barely remaining on its hinges, a rush of dust filled the room. Watching ahead as the dust clouds engulfed the woman, you heard a deafening roar followed by a petrified scream. Small thuds followed, as the dust reached your eyes you began coughing, the sudden pain in your ribs swiftly returning.

Two hands were placed on your shoulders, looking up you were met by two green eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” A worried Derek scanned your face, concern riddled him as he saw the multiple cuts and bruising before him. You could only nod, the dust denying you the ability to speak.

Moving behind you, he effortlessly cut the ties that bound your hands, then your legs. Using the arms of the chair to stable yourself, you attempted to stand, wincing when the pain became too much. Derek moved to your side, wrapping your arm over his shoulder. Carefully placing his arm around you, resting his hand on your hip he accepted most of your weight, attempting to make standing and walking easier. As you took a few steps forward, the dust cleared from your eyes and you were able to regain focus. Looking forward you saw the woman who threatened you, her back against the same wall the door was, her skin now covered in blood, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. Scott stood before her, looking down at the defeated woman, his eyes still red and his claws still present.

Clearing your throat, you stopped walking, causing Derek to pause and look over to you. You peered down at the woman, no longer in a position of power, she looked smaller, more gaunt than before. Her eyes showed she was petrified, providing some comfort to you after what she did.

“Sucks doesn’t it?” a whisper of a smirk present on your lips.

Proceeding to step forward through the doorway you were met by a panting Stiles, his arms stretched out in front of him, you couldn’t tell him to stop before his body connected with yours. You inhaled sharply, grimacing as pain rang throughout your body.

Derek used his free hand to grab Stiles by the shoulder, pulling him away from you, a small growl forming in his chest.

“Oh, shit sorry of course you’re hurt shit sorry.” The boy stumbled over his words, his eyes finally taking in the battered sight before him. He moved to the side of you not occupied by Derek, his help was welcomed by you, suddenly feeling lightheaded from standing.

The three of you began walking forward towards the exit of the building.

“Is now a good time to tell Derek, you think he has no balls?” Stiles piped up earning a death glare from Derek. “No? Okay we can come back to that.” You used whatever energy you had left to shake your head.

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imagineanythings · 3 years ago

Text

Whiskey Warmth Chapter 1 (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Chapter 1/2

Before long, he could barely hear the gentle, even wisps of her breathing over the truck’s engine and there was that burning feeling again, whiskey in his throat. It went down smooth and pooled in a ball of warmth in his stomach. He didn’t hate it. Daryl has always been quiet, stoic, and a realist. On the road he meets someone with a completely different outlook on life. She's a rare ray of sunshine a world that loves to block out all light, but can she keep that light alive?

Follows the plot of the show from post CDC up until Alexandria

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

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She was all sunshine and light. Daryl had never really met anyone he’d consider an unrelenting optimist until she came along, covered in walker guts with a smile on her face that could make the world stop. They had picked her up on the road, as they drove aimlessly trying to decide what to do after the CDC. Daryl had been the one to spot her. She was walking along the side of the road, covered in remnants of the dead, looking like she hadn’t slept or had a bite to eat in days. But as soon as their little caravan showed signs of slowing, she broke out into a broad, toothy smile and suddenly Daryl was sucking wind like he had been struck in the gut. She stepped up to the window of his truck and stuck her thumb out like a hitchhiker and before falling into a small cascade of laughter at her own gesture.

“Sorry, that was really lame.” She said, still giggling. Her voice and laugh rolled like gravel, it had clearly been a while since she had spoken, but there was a brightness to her lilting tone that had Daryl leaning in to hear more, as if a few more words from her might just set the world right again. “Where’re ya headed?” Daryl finally managed to ask, once he had collected himself. “Anywhere” she said, no hesitation in her voice. She was peering into the cab of the truck, looking around, getting a read on the situation. She seemed satisfied. “I got room,” Daryl offered and there was that smile again. He ducked his head and focused on his hands in his lap. No gaze like that, no smile like that could ever really be meant for him. He squirmed uncomfortably under that kind of focus. She quickly slid into the cab of the truck and placed her pack down at her feet. With a contented sigh she settled in and he chanced a glance at her again but found her eyes still on him. Her smile had dimmed but the corners of her mouth were still distinctly upturned as she watched him eyes still alight. She wasn’t just glancing at him either, the way most people did before they move on to whatever’s really important. She was actually seeing him, observing, like she actually wanted to know more about him. He could practically feel her eyes combing over every inch of him, searching for all the answers he wasn’t willing to give up out loud. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the road as quickly as he could, getting the truck moving again.

“Thank you,” She said quietly. It was genuine and possibly even a little desperate. He didn’t want to think about how long she had been alone out there, what had led to her being out there like that, all alone. “-‘S nothing” He said, shaking his head a bit, still refusing to meet her gaze. He could almost feel the heat of that smile singe the hair off of the back of his neck. “Y/N L/N” She said, and held her hand out to him. His eyes slid over to her quickly as he shook her hand before focusing again on the road. He tried not to notice the way the contact seemed to burn the same way her smile did. “Daryl Dixon.” He responded and he swore he didn’t even have to look, he could just feel that goddamn lazer beam of a smile lighting up the cab again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her nod to herself a bit, satisfied with the interaction, before leaning back in her seat and pulling the baseball cap she had on down over her eyes. “Thanks again, Dixon,” She said with a soft exhale before settling in comfortably. Before long, he could barely hear gentle, even wisps of her breathing over the truck’s engine and there was that burning feeling again, whiskey in his throat. It went down smooth and pooled in a ball of warmth in his stomach. He didn’t hate it.

The group took to her instantly. She was always there with a smile and a solution, a bright side, another option when things looked grim. She was also a bit of a jack of all trades it seemed. She knew her way around a knife, could tell you what every single plant in the forest was and whether you could eat it or not, had a little sewing kit that she used to make small repairs to everyone’s clothes, could start a fire with just about nothing, the list went on and on. While she wouldn’t give up what she did before the end, she did reveal that she was a girl scout as a kid and had picked up a lot from that. She was great with Carl and Sophia and seemed to be the positive energy that was sorely needed to balance out their perpetually moody and brooding group. It wasn’t like the group was entirely falling apart before, but as soon as she showed up it felt like everyone was much closer, like there was just maybe something other than unfortunate shared circumstances keeping everyone together.

Then Sophia went missing, and Carl was shot, and suddenly everything was falling apart again. At least the farm felt like a safe place to exist for the moment while everything else went to shit. And then Daryl had to go and be an idiot and fall on his own damn arrow and that idiot Andrea fucking shot him, and his sorry ass was stuck in bed instead of out there looking for Sophia.

He woke up in a bed in the farmhouse to someone’s gentle touch on his face. She came into focus slowly with the rest of the world, a bit blurry and so soft around the edges. It was all her. All he could feel were her fingertips brushing against his skin, her breath the sole sound in his ear, that soft sort of floral scent that followed her around seemed to swaddle him. When his eyes finally came into focus, there was only her frame hovering over him, changing the bandages on his head wound. As she saw his eyes open her face lit up and he winced.

“Oh god I’m so sorry! I’m just making sure your dressings are clean, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” She said quickly, her bright smile replaced with a deep look of concern and Daryl felt something like shame twist up in his stomach. The smooth burn in his throat from her touch and her gaze had already slid downwards and turned into a knot. “Yain’t hurtin’ me woman,” He said, wincing again involuntarily at how harsh the words had come out. He felt her touch lighten despite his words. She sighed and continued to work in silence. The air felt empty without her usual positive chatter, her gentle but firm affirmations, or her kind reassurance. Daryl was never one for conversation but he’d be lying if he said he’d have objected to the sound of her voice at that moment. Instead, when she was done, she simply placed a gentle hand on his arm, planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and whispered a quiet “you get some rest now, Dixon” far too close to his ear before flashing him another heart-stopping smile and leaving him to wonder if he had maybe just up and died when Andrea shot him. She had been in and out constantly, bringing him food, changing his bandages, just checking up on him in general. She would sit in the room with him for long chunks of time, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in silence next to his bed while she patched up peoples’ clothes.

He had just woken up after a hazy, fitful sleep to find her sitting by his bed once again, eyes focused on her sewing. She was humming gently. It was quiet, but he could hear that familiar sweetness in the tune, the brightness that always radiated through a room in her crystal clear laugh, now present in her low and soft humming. If he had focused a bit harder, he was fairly certain he would have been able to make out the song she was humming. It was something he knew from before, but she stopped before he could manage to recall what it was.

“You’re awake!” She said excitedly, “I hope I didn’t wake you, I swear I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” she looked genuinely nervous and apologetic as the words seemed to just spill out of her mouth. Daryl had never been one for speaking up, but the reassurance was slipping from his lips before he had any chance to stop it.

“Naw, weren’t sleepin’ much anyway...” He paused for a moment and was surprised to find that he didn’t want to settle into silence like he usually did. Instead he kept going, “... ‘s nice tho... yer voice” She blushed at that, and if he had thought her smiles packed heat, he was worried he might downright melt from the feeling of making her blush like that.

“It’s nothing,” She spoke so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. She stayed quiet for a moment before shaking her head a bit and focusing back on Daryl. “How are you feeling?” She asked like she genuinely wanted to hear the answer. And not just as a nurse either, not for her medical opinion but because she really cared about how he was feeling. He wanted to pull his head under the covers like a little kid and hide from that kind of attention. But her eyes were wide on him and he couldn’t bear to let her down.

“-’M alright,” He said with a sigh, “wish ya’d just let me outta this bed,” he was being childish and he knew it, but he was too cooped up (and now even more skittish under her gaze) to care. She simply quirked an eyebrow at him and let out a stifled but still achingly melodious giggle.

“You are a handful, you know that Dixon?” She said with a shake of her head. Her sewing had been abandoned on her lap and she reached over to check the dressing on his head. He cleared his throat as she gingerly pulled the bandages off and looked at his wound.

“What were ya singin’?...when I woke up... sounded familiar,” he asked, anything to distract from her caring and gentle touch burning holes in his skin, or her face so close to his as she carefully looked at his wound.

“Oh” she paused for a moment, thinking. She had been in the middle of wrapping his head back up and she had frozen with her hands resting on either side of his face. He didn’t know how he had somehow managed to make this situation even more painful, but he was stuck practically holding his breath, eyes fixed on a little silver pendant swinging back and forth from a chain on her neck so he didn’t have to make eye contact. Finally, after a small infinity, she blessedly began to move again.

“It was Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls,” She said with a fond smile. “One of my favorite songs back in college,” He nodded to himself as the song came back to him, but he didn’t say anything else. She was still so close to his face, like she was trying to see past whatever walls he had built up. Before he could pull away or try to squirm under her gaze she was already leaning back, picking up her sewing again. He didn’t know what she had managed to see, but he was sure it hadn’t been something good.

“Wound looks pretty clean if you ask me. Other one was looking good earlier too, shouldn’t be long now before you’ll be back on your feet.” She said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. He grunted something affirmative and appreciative and she couldn’t stifle the laugh that slipped past her lips.

“What’re ya laughing at, woman?” He tried to be at least a bit intimidating, but she just looked at him with that real, genuine smile that he never quite could fathom being directed at him and a fondness in her eyes that was missing mere moments ago.

“I know you don’t like talking much, and that’s ok. I can do plenty of talking for the two of us. One of these days though Dixon, mark my words, I’ll get some full and complete sentences outta you,” Her tone was slightly mischievous, like she was taking on a great ambition, and hell, maybe she was. Especially after that proclamation, Daryl was determined not to make it easy for her. The slight smile he felt himself showing surprised even himself. He gave another purposeful, but this time definitely skeptical grunt and there was that laugh again. He was glad he couldn’t see himself because he was fairly certain that he was beet red from head to toe.

“Well now you’re in for it Dixon, I’ve decided to make it my personal mission. One of these days you’re gonna look around you won’t know how or when it happened, but all of a sudden you’ll realize that I’ve become your best friend.” He was slightly shocked at this proclamation, but tried his best to keep his expression steady and unconcerned.

“Ain’t really worthy of that title,” he said, he couldn’t stop from dropping his eyes down to his hands. “And that is exactly why you need a best friend like me,” She said. He didn’t have to look up to see her smile.

The farm fell. Shit hit the fan, which was something Daryl was well accustomed to even before the world ended. They made it out alive. They survived on the road for months. Everyone wasted away but they made it through. They had cleared out a prison. Things were finally looking up.

Daryl sat in one of the guard towers on watch. He would probably sleep up there too. He couldn’t get used to sleeping in a cell, even if the doors were taken off, made him feel trapped, like a caged animal. He was scanning the tree line when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Y/N poked her head in with a smile and he nodded to her as a hello.

“Hey Dixon, Rick told me you came right up here after your run?” She said cautiously. He nodded accompanied by a vague grunt. “He also told me that you had a nasty looking gash on your arm that you refused to let anyone check on?” She asked and he sighed, holding his arm out for her to see. “Got caught on some glass gettin’ out through a broken window. Was careless and stupid,” He said nonchalantly. She sighed and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tried not to flinch at the unexpected contact but he could tell by her shaky exhale that she noticed. She gave him a gentle nudge downwards and he got what she was asking. He sat down beside her on the edge of the platform, legs dangling below them. She took his forearm in her hands and examined the gash, which began a little below his elbow and extended an inch or two down his arm. It wasn’t too long, but it ran deep.

“It’s not too bad. You’ll only need a few stitches,” She said, turning away. He was about to grumble something about not bothering the old man when she turned back to him, first aid supplies in hand. “Ya don’t-” He started, but she raised a hand and cut him off. “I got you, Dixon, let me get you fixed up” She sounded stern, yet somehow still gentle and he had to force himself to shut his mouth which had, against his own wishes, just sat there, hanging open at her statement. “This is gonna sting a bit, I’m sorry,” She said, dabbing some antiseptic on the gash. She began stichting and he hissed through his teeth. She seemed to wince at his expression of pain and he immediately felt bad for worrying her. Getting the actual damn gash had hurt far more than this. She was quick and gentle and it was over within a few minutes. She let out a shaky breath when she snipped the thread and he looked down at her hands which definitely had not been shaking that much when she put the sutures in him.

“Ya did good,” he said quietly, wanting to reassure but not quite sure how. She looked up at him with a soft smile. “Sorry, I hope they didn’t hurt too bad. Haven’t done them much on real people, I got nervous.” She admitted. He shook his head. “Weren’t nothin’” He reassured and she let out another long breath. “Good.” She said, and he had a feeling that was more for herself than for him.

They sat in silence for a while, legs hanging over the edge of the platform, staring off at the treeline. The quiet felt more safe and comfortable than anything Daryl had experienced in a long time. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her turn to look over at him, so he kept his eyes focused on the treeline, afraid of what awaited in her gaze. She sighed and very slowly leaned down to rest her head on his shoulder. His entire body went stiff for a moment, almost entirely reflexively, before he could manually force himself to relax a bit. He took a deep breath and tried to let some of the tension leave his body, but it was hard when the weight of her head was right there on his shoulder and he could feel her hair brush up against his neck. He thought he was going to go crazy trying to fixate on all of it when she finally spoke.

“Daryl...” She started. She sighed quietly and he could almost hear her brain whirring, searching for what exactly she wanted to say. He could tell by her second, slightly more defeated sigh that she hadn’t quite found it. “Do you think this could really be home?” She finally asked. He let out a sigh of his own, grateful for something to focus on besides the contact but unsure of how to answer.

“Don’t know,” He said after a brief moment of contemplation. “Neither do I,” she said the words so quietly he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them correctly. He didn’t really know how to respond. She was usually the one who was so sure. She was always there with a smile and reassurance that this was the moment where everything would go right, that it would all be ok in the end. He didn’t realize that he didn’t really know how to have that kind of hope if she wasn’t the voice in his ear reassuring him.

They sat in silence for a few more moments before she sat up. He looked over at her sudden movement and she had a scrunched up, determined look on her face. Her eyes were dead set on the horizon. “It will be. It will be because you’re here and Rick’s here and we’re going to make it home.” She seemed to be reassuring herself much more than Daryl, but he didn’t mind hearing it. She looked over at him when she was done speaking and flashed him an appreciative smile. When he turned back towards the horizon and away from her gaze she leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. As she stood up to head back down she called over her shoulder, “See ya later best friend! Take it easy on those stitches! And get some sleep! I’ll send someone to take over for you in a couple of hours!” She turned and headed down the stairs when she was done and Daryl let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in since she had taken his injured arm so gently in her hands.

She got into a habit of checking in on Daryl whenever he was on watch. She would sit with him and talk to him about whatever was on her mind, or whatever was happening with the rest of the group. He would talk too occasionally. He mostly gave quick responses to whatever she was saying but every now and then she reached in with nimble fingers and pulled something more real out of him, either a story about Merle, or some thoughts on the rest of the group, even a promise to give her a proper lesson in tracking and using a crossbow. She had been fascinated with his bow since the first time she’d seen him shoulder it and was constantly harassing him for lessons. He figured now that they were in the walls not on the run, worrying about staying alive from one moment to the next and they actually had the time and energy it couldn’t hurt to see what she could do. Before he knew it, that little offhand promise had transformed into a routine, they’d work with the bow or go out and track and hunt in the early morning and she’d always come up to see him in the guard tower as the sun began to fall over the horizon. Sometimes she’d bring dinner for him, or her sewing, or just herself. If he was being completely honest, he didn’t mind any of those options.

“Daryl Dixon, I swear to god, you better start being more careful out there,” her words were chiding but there was no harshness in her tone. If that weren’t enough, her exasperated smile definitely gave her away. “Told ya, I always do my best. Shit happens tho” He said, trying to swat her hand away as she tried to move his hair out of the way to get a look at the gash on his forehead.

“Hey!” her laughter filled the air as she grabbed his wrist to keep him from swatting. “You know that I’m not leaving until I make sure you’re all good, so you might as well make it easy on yourself and let me do my thing. Don’t make me get Rick up here to hold you down.” She had put on a scowl, and he could tell she was trying to be menacing, but it was an ill-fitting mask on her. As soon as he held his hands up in surrender it was thrown away in favor of her usual smile. She moved in closer to him, moving up on to her knees to get a better look. As she gently began to clean and inspect the wound he found himself face to face again with that pendant he had noticed at the farm, and while on the run, and if he was being completely honest most days in the prison. He had always wondered what it was, but had never seen it up close since that first time in bed at the farm. It was a symbol made up of two hands holding a heart with a crown on top. The silver pendant seemed as much part of her body as her eyes, or her hands. He never saw her without it.

“Seems like it wasn’t too deep, you don’t need stitches but I do want to put a butterfly bandage on there just to be safe.” She spoke while she looked through the first aid kit, and lapsed back into silence as she found what she needed and went back to work. Before he could really think about what he was doing, Daryl reached out and gingerly took her pendant between his fingers. Her eyes snapped downwards, confusion written across her features.

“Sorry,” Daryl said, letting go quickly, mentally kicking himself for grabbing it in the first place. “-’s just a nice necklace,” he said, eyes dropping to his hands, which lay folded in his lap. She smoothed the bandage once more before sitting back down next to him. “Thank you. My dad gave it to me when I was a kid,” She said, her face a picture of fond heartache. “What’s the symbol for?” Daryl asked quietly. “It’s called a claddagh, it’s Irish. The hands represent friendship, the heart, love, and the crown, loyalty. My dad ran a marathon in Dublin when I was young. I think it was sort of a bucket list thing. He brought back this necklace for me. I used to wear it everywhere as a kid, I mean I really loved it. Then in high school I thought I was too cool and it got shoved in a drawer for a while until I found it again in college. I’ve worn it ever since.” She brushed away a tear that was poised to fall and sighed. “Especially when shit went down, I don’t know where my parents are, if they’re alive at all...” she paused, chest heaving, words thick. He could see her denying tears. “Still feels like they’re with me,” she finished with a soft smile. How she could manage to smile after that, he had no idea.

“Sorry to bring it up,” he sighed. “Didn’t mean to make ya sad,” He dropped his eyes once again. “Stop doing that.” She sounded genuinely annoyed. He looked up, confused. “Doin’ what?” He couldn’t fight the scowl that made its way onto his face. “Gettin’ all down on yourself! Whenever you’re beating yourself up you always look down like that! Like you’re ashamed, and I’m sick of it! Dixon, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of!” She was almost yelling now, and he had to fight the urge to lower his gaze again. He settled for scowling at the horizon. He stayed quiet, unsure of how to respond. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek and turned his head so he was forced to meet her eyes.

“Daryl, you’re the best of us. I mean it. It kills me that you don’t see it. Please, just...” She trailed off, searching his eyes as he practically held his breath. Maybe if he didn’t breathe, didn’t let anything in or out, she wouldn’t be able to see through him, whatever ridiculous and righteous illusion she had created in her mind would remain untouched, unharmed. “For me Daryl, please, try not to be so hard on yourself.” “I don’t-” he started, trying to look down again but she immediately cut him off. “No. I’m not done.” She held his gaze with a look that said Look away Dixon, I dare you. “I don’t pick just anyone to be my best friend, Dixon. Believe it or not I don’t just go around gettin’ chummy with every redneck who picks me up from the side of the road.” He couldn’t help the surprised, sort of strangled laugh that escaped him. His reaction drew a gentle, warm smile across her lips and even after a year of knowing her he still couldn’t fight the heat that ran beneath his skin whenever she directed that small slice of sunlight towards him.

She leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, something she had incorporated into their little routine (not that it made his heart slow or his face flush any less when she did it the first time or the 50th time), and sighed. “I’m sorry for flipping out on you. I just care about you and I hate seeing you doubt yourself like that.” “-‘S ok.” He said, forcing himself to hold her gaze and not lower his head like he wanted so badly to do. She narrowed her eyes a bit as she studied his face, and he could practically hear her mind moving, analyzing him. It scared him, he wasn’t used to feeling so seen. She seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to say any more and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened immediately, and she pulled back slightly before he forced himself to relax. She let out a small laugh that was more awkward than genuine, no humor behind it.

“I feel like I’ve done enough damage for one day,” Voice apologetic as she moved to stand but instinctively Daryl reached out and grabbed her wrist. He was careful to keep his grip light, not forcing her to stay but asking. “Ya haven’t. Ya could stay... if ya want” He said, voice barely above a whisper. She broke out into a full grin and lowered herself back down to sit beside him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and he felt some of the tension in his body melt away. “You really are the best of us.” She said with a small sigh, and he responded with a small grunt that drew a burst of giggles out of her, which slowly dissolved into comfortable silence as the sun began to disappear over the horizon.

For a while this life at the prison almost felt too good to be true. Of course it was. Reality always came crashing down, weighing heavily on his shoulders in the end.

The governor came crashing through the gates with a goddamn tank and everything went to shit again. Except this time he didn’t have her there to reassure him that it would all turn out alright. He had Beth, which was a close second in terms of optimism, but then suddenly he didn’t even have her and everything felt like it was falling apart around him. He was completely alone, his family all likely dead, and he had fallen in with a group that made him feel more like his daddy than he had ever wanted to feel. He stuck it out with those assholes for no reason other than that tiny glimmer of hope that Beth was still out there somewhere. If nothing else, he owed it to that girl to get her out of whatever mess he landed her in in the first place. And then he found Rick, Carl, and Michonne and suddenly his reasons to live had multiplied by three. Terminus was a flash of hope. It didn’t bring him any closer to finding Beth, but Rick pointed out that if anyone from the group survived and found the signs, they would likely be heading there as well.

The train tracks had been easy enough to follow. As the compound came into view, for just a brief moment Daryl allowed himself to hope. But once inside that hope began to very quickly whittle away. It was too quiet, and there was something off about that Gareth guy. And suddenly they were spotting Hershel’s pocket watch, and the riot gear, and Maggie’s poncho and a silver necklace with a claddagh charm and then Daryl felt himself begin to drown. Everything that had kept him going, the small spark of hope that he had allowed to live inside him had been drenched. Now all he felt was steam rising, his insides boiling, but before he could do anything about it the gunfire began and then they were herded towards a boxcar.

Daryl wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but his whole family corralled into one place had definitely not been it. They were all there except Carol and baby Judith, two losses which weighed heavily on the entire group. But everyone else was there and safe and alive. He scanned the room, giving hugs and looking people up and down, making sure everyone looked ok. He moved slowly through the car, through each of his family members, before he came to a stop in front of a figure balled up in the corner. Her face was hidden but her frame was unmistakable.

“Y/N?” he asked, and her name on his lips again felt like coming back to a place you’ve once called home. She slowly picked your head up, and he immediately noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her cheeks looked gaunt and hollow. But when she saw that it was really him, that Daryl Dixon was really standing in front of her, her eyes widened. She leapt to her feet with surprising speed and threw her arms around him. His arms wrapped around her body and when he lifted her off of her feet for a moment he could have sworn that the weight of the world wasn’t all that much to hold. She pulled away and placed her hands on either side of his face.

“I can’t believe it’s really you” Tears began to pool in her eyes and she pulled him back in for another hug, face buried in his shoulder. He could feel her shoulders shake and a patch of wetness grow on his shirt. “Thought you were gone.” She whispered. He shook his head and brought a hand up to stroke her hair. “Naw, ain’t gettin’ rida me that easy now, womanl” He said quietly. After a few more moments she pulled away and just stared at him with those wide, shocked eyes. “Promise I ain’t goin’ anywhere, I’ll still be here if ya blink” She nodded and let out a shaky exhale. “I missed you,” she whispered just as Rick and Carl made their way over to give her a hug. “Missed ya too” he said.

He took a few steps back, and only when he stepped away did he notice the cold emptiness nipping at him, like something was missing. He watched her hug Rick and Carl, he watched the most important people in the world to him all come back together in a single moment, and yet he felt cold. She was crying. She was hugging people. She was telling everyone how much she missed them.

She wasn’t smiling.

#The walking dead #Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixonxreader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon/reader #reader/daryl dixon #reader insert #slow burn #friends to lovers #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #writing #walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon has a huge crush

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justsomeclintasha · 3 years ago

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Day 10: Missions

“I can’t believe you made that shot.”

“I told you I could do it. You didn’t believe me.”

“I’m not even sure I could have done that.”

“Course you could. You’re the world’s greatest archer, remember?”

“Is that a compliment, Red?” A smack on his shoulder has him laughing as they drop their weapons on the kitchen counter. It was an easy mission- observe, infiltrate, recover. He fishes the flash drive from his pocket. “You got the bad guy, I got the goods. Maybe we’ll finally get some time off now.”

“Don’t count on it. But we have two days to kill until we catch the flight home.”

“A picnic on the beach and a romantic sunset walk?” She snorts out a laugh. They’re as far away from any of that as they can be and it’s just started to snow.

“How about some takeout from down the street and a crappy movie?”

“And cuddles?” She can’t help but grin.

XXXXX

Rainwater mixed with blood drips into her face, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she slumps down against the wall. His splashing footsteps stop in front of her.

“Natasha?” Her lips move. He can’t hear her over the sound of the rain pouring down. She’s trembling. She must be freezing, he thinks. The only thing they can do now is get back to the motel. “Come on. Up. We gotta move.” She follows him wordlessly. It’s slow going- he detours down several streets and back alleys to make sure they aren’t followed. They finally duck into their room and he nudges her into the bathroom. “Shower, Nat. You’re freezing. Let me help you.”

“No.” She shakes her head, taking a step back and pressing against the wall. Her hand reaches for the knife on her thigh.

“Natasha?”

“I failed.” The words drop like an anchor on her chest. She knows what failure means. “I’m not going back.”

“No, you’re not,” he agrees softly. “It’s okay.”

“I’m not going,” she repeats, slipping the knife from its holster. Her grip tightens on the handle. “He escaped. I have to find him. I have to finish the mission. I can’t fail, I can’t fail, I can’t-“

“Stop.” She swallows hard. The bathroom. The counter. Rain outside. Clint. She struggles to focus. It’s too much. “Natasha.” Rough hands. Blood. Pain. Natalia.

“No!” She drops the knife with a clatter and he quickly kicks it away. Her hands tangle in her hair, pulling hard, and he’s there in an instant to wrap her in his arms.

“Natasha. Breathe. Natasha.” Her mind is splitting. She screams into his chest and he grips her harder. “You’re right here. You’re with me. Natasha.” His voice fades.

XXXXX

She wiggles her toes in the sand as they step onto the beach and she laughs.

“It feels weird. And it smells salty.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to the beach.”

“Do you think the water is cold?”

“Let’s find out.” She slips her hand in his as they walk to the edge, the waves lapping over their feet and ankles. She steps back in alarm as the water sucks back in. “It pulls.”

“It’s okay. Hold onto me. Come here.” She does, wading in a little further with him. At first the crashing waves scare her when they make her lose her balance, but soon they’re both laughing as she holds onto his arm. She shakes her hair from her face.

“Thanks for bringing me here. I needed this.”

“We both did. No cell phones, no shield, no missions. Just me and you on a private beach for a week. Maybe we can finally have that picnic and walk in the sunset?”

“I’d love that.”

#clintasha #clintasha fanfic #clint barton x natasha romanoff #clintasha advent 2021

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sebbytrash · 4 years ago

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Ash Painted Lips

Summary - Frank is your lifeline, protecting you like only he can do but you harbour not-so-secret feelings for him that threaten to shake the foundation of this steady, necessary partnership.

“There is pain in the fire, but beauty in the ashes.”

Pairing - Frank Castle x Reader

Warnings - Mentions of injuries, swearing, sexual tension, smut.

A/N - This was a drabble request from my love @avengerofyourheart which took on a life of its own. Dialogue was “If you slit my throat tonight, I’m gonna have a hard time forgiving you for that.”

The motel was dingy. Low key, Frank called it. Right.

The neon sign out front had a few missing bulbs, the letters didn’t even remotely resemble a name anymore but it didn't matter. It held it’s aura, the too bright sign in the shadows of a long forgotten town, desperate melancholy hanging in the air and clinging to your bones as you follow him to the room. He doesn’t check to see if you still follow, he knows you have nowhere else to go.

Frank glances to each side as he opens the door, always automatically marking his surroundings, checking for escape routes, for ambush opportunities. The door thuds against the wall of the room, the sound itself echoes in the empty lot behind you and further into the surrounding trees.

If loneliness was a place, you think, it would be here.

Frank switches on the light and continues inside, his bag is tossed beside the bed and he turns expectant, probably wondering why the door was still open and you were still standing on the concrete outside instead of the mouldy green carpet. When you say nothing, he raises an eyebrow and waits.

“There’s only one bed.” You say, stupidly, finally closing the door behind you and trying not to think about the sound the carpet made when you stepped inside.

“Better they think we are a couple.” He says, taking his gun from his back and sitting on the table, another from his ankle.

“Right.” Because what else could you say. He’s not wrong, the people after you were no doubt still out there, scouring the roads for any signs of either of you. A shudder runs through you at the thought. And still, you can’t help but sneak furtive glances at the bed, which looks exactly as it should, simple, average, maybe even a little comfy. Not at all like the bomb you imagine it to be.

You shed your jacket then, try and fail to hide your wince when pain lashes through your shoulder at the movement. Frank is in front of you in an instant, the fury in his eyes would make you cringe if not for the gentle way his hands pull the sleeve of your top down your shoulder so he can see. A walking contradiction, like always.

“You didn’t tell me you were hurt.” He says, his voice so low it scrapes the gutters, fingers delicate as they inspect, “There’s glass in it.”

“I didn’t notice.” You tell him honestly, watching as he pulls out what looks like a hastily prepared first aid kit from his bag. He brandishes tweezers at you, the tiny prongs look childlike in his hands and you fight the laugh that bubbles up, knowing he’ll think the opposite of you if you let it loose.

“That’ll be the adrenaline.” He doesn’t give you much warning before he dumps the contents of your water bottle over the wound, quickly and efficiently pulls the glass from it. You stay as still as you can, letting only the sharp hiss of breath escape between your teeth as he works, try not to focus on how close his face is to yours. “I need to put a few stitches in it, yeah?”

“Mmm, okay.” You can’t stand the way you sound, that you can’t help but show the pain in your voice when you know he’s likely in a worse state than you right now. You eye the offending dark patch at his side with suspicion before you feel the telltale sign of the needle piercing your skin. You hate this part, and so you find yourself glancing at him instead, watching the concentration in his face as he works. Wondering, not for the first time, what it might feel like to give in to that urge to smooth out the harsh frown lines above his nose, or run a finger along those infuriatingly soft lips. Another contradiction, those lips set against the hard lines of his face, so often punctuated by bruises and blood.

“There, all done.” He looks at you then, too quick for you to hide the road your thoughts had taken and stills, hand still clasped around your bicep and face still inches from yours. Your heart hammers so loudly in your chest you fear he might hear it. There's a heated ache in the air, a sudden scorch that makes you burn from the inside out, parched throat and desert lips. You run your tongue over those lips and try to keep all thoughts of his from your mind but instead, find yourself watching as Frank tracks the movement himself, scalds the newly found moisture with a look alone.

He blinks, once, then twice and releases his now tightened grasp on your arm, steps back with a forced casualness and you close your eyes to kidnap your mind, to try to find some balance in your gaze before you let it fall on him again. The sound of the bathroom door closing forces them open, the now empty room fades back to the cold, bitterness of before.

You wait your turn, not so patiently, picking away the edges of the faded throw on the bed, bag perched on your lap like you're waiting to run and not to shower. You're always waiting to run, a somber voice reminds you. He doesn't take long, the water shuts off after a few short minutes and the door opens in even less, dressed in a black tshirt and sweatpants. He looks very pointedly at the wall behind you.

“Waters cold.”

“Of course it is.” You roll your eyes on your way past him, desperate now to wash away the blood and dirt of the day, a familiar ritual these days. Another eyeroll.

The water is probably closer to freezing, you think, as you dance under the stream and expect at any second to feel the drops turn solid. It’s probably for the best, a cold shower to chase away the heat from your eyes. Frank will never want you the way you want him. He simply can’t. You repeat it again and again, trying to squash the tiny but of hope that always lives inside you, that always insists no matter how many nights you share together in rooms just like this, no matter how many times he turns from you just like tonight. You force yourself to stand there until the pink water turns clear and your skin turns numb.

You find an old hairdryer in the bathroom and use it to dry your hair as best you can, if nothing else to simply chase the chill from your bones. You glance at yourself in the mirror, wondering what he sees when he looks at you, wondering if he sees how you feel written so plainly across your face. After a full minute of staring, or stalling, you finally exit the bathroom to see Frank taping a knife to the bottom of his bedside table. Without thought, you sigh and he raises his eyebrows at you in question.

“If you slit my throat tonight, I’m gonna have a hard time forgiving you for that.” You joke, but even as you say it your mind drifts to nights past where Frank wakes suddenly and violently from a dream, where you lay quiet in the dark and pretend you don’t witness this private agony of his.

He frowns, instead of laughs, like he knows all too well where your mind just went, “I won’t hurt you.”

You climb into bed beside him, clinging helplessly to the edge of the mattress as darkness blooms around you. He is still for so long you wonder if he’s already asleep and yet, you say into that echoing dark, “I know, Frank.”

It doesn’t take as long as you thought it would for sleep to claim you. It takes even less for Franks moans to wake you.

The bed jolts with his sharp movements, head tossing from side to side in time with his agonised moans, “No. No, not them. Not them.” He doesn’t shout, but then he never does, just suffers as quietly as his body will allow him. You turn to him automatically, called closer to soothe but cautiously, knowing what he was capable of doing in a few short seconds it would take him to wake and realise.

“Frank.” You try, pushing against his shoulder with your fist but staying out of reach, “Frank, wake up.”

He doesn’t wake, simply whispers his pain into the space between, his every word is a bullet, every noise a wound. Fingers wound so tight in the blankets, the fabric stretching far beyond its limits. You hate seeing him like this, hate not being able to help him. A low whine erupts from his throat, a horrible, desperate sound and your fingers move without thought, hand cups his jaw with featherlike touches. Nothing at all like the way you shoved him just moments before, and yet, it’s those touches that pull him from the dream.

Suddenly, and forcefully, his hand is vice like on your wrist and you're pulled towards him, breath pushed from your lungs as you land against him with a soft thud. Wild eyes meet yours, dark pools of terror and it’s only when the pain of his grip flashes across your face that recognition finally settles on his. The terror morphes into regret, his grip loosens but doesn’t leave and he swallows loudly, a few times before forcing out, “M’sorry. Did I....did I hurt you?”

The pain in your wrist dissipates at the torment in his voice, “No, Frank. I’m ok.” You notice that he still hasn’t let go of your wrist, that you're still pressed up against his chest with nowhere to go. You can’t look away, won’t look away, just stare further into the fathomless, midnight eyes and listen as your heart roars, thunderous, inside your chest. The seconds pass, agonisingly slow and yet still, he doesn’t move or release you. It’s long passed the moment he would normally turn away and you can’t stop that tiny spark of hope within you. Even now, with his pain so laid bare, you still want him.

“Frank…” You whisper, if only to capture the memory of saying his name when his eyes are looking at you this way, fire-burned coals that threaten to combust at any moment. You see it, the want is his eyes, the hunger, but you also see the agony, the torment and you wonder which will win out. You feel the weight of your hope gather in your gut. His eyes drift closed, taking the battle within and your breath catches in your throat when he pulls your wrist to him, slowly, so slowly, presses his lips against the delicate skin there.

It’s nothing at all, and yet, it’s everything at once.

He opens his eyes again, fluttery glances between your eyes and your lips, still the raging of a war unwon within them. Still, his fingers remain anchored around your wrist.

He nudges forward, rests his forehead against yours with more intention than he means, eyes darting down and the back again, almost like he can’t help it. You let your own eyes close, no longer able to stand the pain you so easily cause him, guilt and grief reaching up from your gut and wrapping a hand around your throat. It’s OK, Frank, you want to say, try to say through the squeezing hand but only a soft, painful gasp escapes. You know then that if this is all he gives you, if this is all he can manage that it will be enough. The feel of his lips on your skin and the fire in his eyes, it will be enough.

You try to free your hand but his grip only tightens, pulls you closer to let your fingers rest on his jaw again, holding them there with that gentle firmness he has. You force yourself to look at him, barely have time to register the fierceness in his face before his lips find yours, soft but vehement, like he’s going to kiss away the demons that live behind his eyes and pass occasionally to yours. There’s no room for worry inside your head, anything and everything that isn’t the feel of Frank's lips pressed against yours is simply gone, forcibly removed by the curve of his mouth as it moves down your jaw and back.

Wildfire kisses engulf you, the heat spreads until your blood threatens to boil inside your veins. It thrills you and terrifies you, this feeling, that there was this whole other realm of human experience you’d underestimated. When the want and need were rooted so entirely in your bones in a way it never has been before.

His fingers grip under your ribcage, twisting in the material of your top as your own slip further up his jaw and into his hair, tugging him closer still. Taking as much of him as you can, stealing the moments before he undoubtedly comes back to himself, before he puts the wall back up and you're left with just the memories of the heat. Instead, he grips you tighter, kisses you harder, and rolls up and over till he's settled his weight on top of you. It’s better than you imagined, feeling the weight of him over you, tasting the hunger he keeps locked away so palpable on his lips. He pulls back to look at you, fire and fury held in his gaze and you wonder if this is the moment, fingers already slipping down to memorise his face, the feel of his lips and the sharpness of his jaw.

He surprises you both when instead, he growls low, “Tell me to stop.”

You watch him for a few seconds, breathing hard above you, the barely contained blaze in his eyes and wait for any of that regret to surface, for anything within you to not want this even if it’s just for the night, for the moment. It doesn’t come.

So, with what little breath you can find, you whisper right back, “Don’t stop.”

He knew, you think, that you would say it because no sooner had the words left your mouth, Frank transforms. You see it so plainly when he releases himself from the guilt of wanting you, see the way his muscles change and his face follows. He somehow relaxes and tenses simultaneously, relaxing into the moment and tensing with intent. The span of a lifetime built into a moment.

When he leans down to kiss you again, you realise exactly how much he had been holding back, wonder momentarily how deep this fire goes and get so willingly lost in the flames. Your fingers explore, scald a path over his skin and make quick work of his clothes, revealing all that solid, gritty muscle to your greedy touches. His scars stand out even in the dark, a patchwork story written across his skin that you take careful time to memorise, storing each one away in your mind.

His newly unrestrained hands draw patterns over your skin, making a map of his own as you sigh into each touch. When he kisses his way down your neck, you fight the urge to check for ashy marks left behind by the scorch of his lips. His teeth graze the meat of your neck, sink in enough to just be aware of them and not enough to hurt. The gesture feels possessive, but tender, and your fingertips respond automatically, gripping him tight enough to make your bones ache.

There’s not even an inch of space between you, lips to hips to toes. It thrills you, it terrifies you.

The heat is rolling up your body in waves, unrelenting, and settling low in your gut. He’s everywhere, tongue and teeth and hips, living gasoline on the open flame of your want. You feel the coil of your restraint snap at the nudge of his hips, pull and urge him to you with a renewed urgency, needing more, needing him. His answering growl makes your vision blur.

Hot tipped fingers gather you up and he watches from ferverous eyes as he pushes into you, slow and deliberate, matching your sigh with one of his own. His forehead falls to ours again, breathing turned harsh in the space between, and you see your eyes reflected in his, see the way they burn fierce for him. You notice, quietly, that his burn the same.

He moves, finally, rolls forward and up and it earns a mirrored groan, he carries the momentum through into the next roll, and then the next, each one licking fire up your spine. Had it ever felt like this, you wonder? Had you ever been so consumed? And that’s exactly what it is, being consumed, because there isn’t a single part of you that isn’t lit up by his touch, or molten by a look. Your soul is nothing more than embers and ash. He kisses you, frantic, just a need to have his mouth on you, swallows up your gasps like he is greedy for them. You arch into his touch, shudder with every roll of his hips and then his hand grips low on your neck, palm on your clavicle and you moan into the feel of it, the weight of it there. Another possessive gesture made tender for being unthinking.

“Fuck.” He groans, watching your response, “You’re perfect.”

You answer him with your lips, let your teeth scrape the length of his neck but lose the battle for cognizance when his hips snap harder, more precise, eliciting a steady stream of moans instead. You feel the fire within you building, stoked by the curve of his mouth under your jaw and the weight of his hands over your heart. It’s a rush of roaring flames, burning away your tethers to the earth until your floating skyward, carried away by the smoke filled clouds and ashen winds. Frank whispers his own release into your neck, melting muscles and simmering eyes. He kisses the underside of your jaw, soft and wet, and you let yourself basque in his attention for however long he’ll give it, wondering, hopelessly, what the morning will bring.

Despite your best efforts, you feel it, the change, feel his scorched handprint over your heart.

When he looks at you with those midnight eyes, you know he feels it, too.

Tags: @manawhaat @captainrogerss @imhereforbvcky @avengerofyourheart @evilskant-inthemegacoven @scarletwinchester84 @mariekoukie6661 @danijimenezv @vintagevalentinex @fictionalabyss @jayankles @fvckingromantic @bluebird214 @missladysky

#kale writes #frank x reader #frank castle x reader #the punisher x reader #the punisher fanfic #frank castle fanfic

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loxbbg · 3 years ago

Text

The Lost Girl

Chapter 14

series Materlist

Masterlist

"Has she gotten out of her room since you got back." Ever since Skyler left the tower Peter hasn't heard anything from her besides one worded replies via text she screens his calls and had no contact with any of the avengers as far as he knows.

"No ever since she came home she's locked herself in her room. We tried going inside but we either got a book to the head to something heavier. Only person allowed in there is Alfred and the first couple of days he almost got hit with a knife or something." Peter knew this would impact you in some way and hearing Jason tell him about you made him feel helpless. He wanted to help you avoid this feeling.

"Maybe I should talk to her."

" I don't know kid we tried and she wouldn't talk to us." Dick pipped into the conversation.

"Well I haven't lied to her or you know wipe her memory, so maybe factor that in." Dick looked away. Peter walked up to Skyler's room praying its not as bad as he thinks. Hoping he can help the broken girl behind the door.

Peter wished he could've helped her, If he knew after her leaving would hurt her this bad he would've tried harder to keep her to stay at the tower and try to talk to Tony rather than running. It was life after coming home she went from being happy to go home to not wanting to do anything with her.

"Sky?" He knocked on the door not wanting to just break down her door. When he got no answer he knocked again but harder.

"I believe she might be sleeping master Peter." The old man came with a cart of tea.

"I was just about to wake her up actually. She hasn't had anything since morning." he gently opened the door offering Peter to go in the room first. Once he entered the room he saw the little figure of a broken girl taken over by an entire bundle of blankets. Her brown hair all over the place. He stepped closer to her frame sitting at the edge of her bed but not too far from her where he could place a hand on her leg. He wasn't too far where he couldn't see the tear marks on her cheek. He wanted to wipe them away but didn't want to wake you up.

"Miss Skyler you need to wake up." Guess Alfred thought otherwise. Skyler shifted to face Alfred.

"Did you brush your teeth today?"

"Only thing I really did today."She noticed someones hand on her leg and Alfred was to far to grab her leg. She slowly got up following the persons hand to their face.

"Peter." She started to tear up she hasn't talked to anyone she really cared about besides Alfred for the past couple weeks. She felt she disappointed him by coming back to the manor. She disappointed herself coming back to the manor she just needed to get away from Tony and Wanda she couldn't face them. Coming back was the best option in mind at the time forgetting about the people who put her in the position in the first place.

"I'm sorry Peter I-I." she stuttered. Alfred left the two to catch up. The boys gathered at the door seeing this, the only person other than Alfred she let stay in her room without a shoe to the head.

"Hey don't be sorry." He grabbed her arms pulling her closer to him as she began to cry. He smoothed down her hair trying to calm her down.

"I should be, I just left you and stayed away for weeks locked up in here."

"Hey you had all the right to after everything you found out I'm sorry I didn't come visit earlier."

"It's ok I probably wouldn't have let you in. How's Tony?" Before the words could fully leave her mouth they heard something break down stairs and then yelling.

"She's my daughter Wayne you can't keep her away from me." Tony was heard all the way from her room. The two teens looked at each other. Sky rushed to her closet to put on pants. They both rushed out of her room downstairs to be met with Tony's arm covered in armor and Bruce in a fighting position the boys all ready to fight him.

"Dad." Both men turned to look at the girl. She almost forgot.

"Tony, Bruce. What are you doing?"

"Skyler, I just wanted to see you but Bruce said that you didn't want to see me."

"I never said I didn't want to see you. I haven't said anything to anyone besides Alfred since I've gotten back." She looked tired and just sick of the situation.

"You lier." Tony looked ready to blow someones head off.

"I was trying to protect her."

"Shut up with the trying to protect me. Please I'm tiered of people saying that."

"Sky." Bruce whispered to his daughter

"Can I talk to Tony, alone. please?" She asked. They looked weary.

In reality Skyler really shouldn't be going through this much stress yes Alfred brought food for her but she never really ate, she never drank anything. She could bearly get out the bed to even use the bathroom. She's moving to fast she has no energy that her powers won't even work or she'll pass out.

"Skyler, I never knew about you If I did I would've taken care of you, I would've begged Wanda to give you to me If I knew you existed and were mine Sky I would've taken you without a doubt raised cuz you're my daughter Sky." Tony was crying trying to convince her he wanted her if he knew about her.

"You say that now Tony but Im a product of a one night stand what would've happened with you and Pepper. You were younger you can't say you would keep the responsibility of having a kid. Wanda did what was best to her she put me with someone who had children, who I would be well off with. Tony I'm 16 there's nothing you can really do besides clear up stuff for me. I would like to get to know you Tony but I don't know if I can have the relationship you want. Not right now."

"I understand Skyler thanks for giving me the chance to have a relationship with you at least. I will always consider you my daughter and I wish I knew of you earlier." Her world began to spin the lack of nutrition is getting to her.

"Ok can we go back to the guys I'm not really feeling too well."

"Hey kid are you ok what wrong." she fell to her knees trying to focus on one thing to gain balance. Tony picked her up running her over to Bruce and the boys.

"Dad." Skyler whispers reaching out for Bruce her vision was going in and out of focus. Bruce grabbed her from his hands her read hair falling over her his shoulder.

"What did you do to her Stark." Jason brought him closer to his face dragging him by his collar.

"Jay ..leave.. Dad ..alone." Everyone stopped what they were doing shocked. Maybe it was her lack of consciousness but even after everything she told Tony in her mind he has already gained the right as her dad after taking her in. But he still can't replace Bruce.

"Sir I think Its best we take care of Skyler and when she wakes up discuss this, its obvious she hasn't been eating or drinking anything in a while so let's get her to the med bay before anything else hap... " Before he could finished his sentence Skyler blacked out in Bruces arms going limp.

#batboys x reader #batfam x batsis #batfam x reader #batfamily #batfam fanfiction #jason peter todd #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tony stark x daughter!reader #mcu imagines #dc comics x reader #dc comics

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captainkappa · 3 years ago

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Fanfic:: What the Water Gave Us

Din can tell something is wrong the minute he walks off the ship. Luke and Grogu meet him on the landing pad as always, but there’s something in the way Luke holds himself, the simple way he says “Hey.”

Din doesn’t run down the gangway, but it’s a near thing. “What’s wrong?”

In which Din and Luke deal with some of Grogu’s more recent trauma, Din gets wet, ripcords are abused, and both of them are trans.

So this was supposed to go up for dinluke week day 6... and then day 7... and now it’s now ^^; BUT I’m still really excited for it and I hope yall are too!

Title inspired by Florence + The Machine’s What the Water Gave Me

AO3 Link

-=-=-=-=-=-

Din doesn’t run down the gangway, but it’s a near thing. “What’s wrong?”

“I-” Luke sighs. “Nothing’s wrong, I’ll tell you later.”

“Tell me now.”

Luke doesn’t say anything as he passes Grogu to Din, letting Grogu get settled in his arms before continuing, “Grogu is fine, there was just… an incident. He fell into the lake and got… really scared.”

“Oh.” And Din immediately realizes the reason for that. When he had first gotten his quest, his focus had been on finding Grogu a teacher and he hadn’t considered the long-term effects of the events of Trask. Whenever he wakes up from dreams of water pooling up under his helmet, he considers it a good night and waits for sleep to claim him. He hadn’t considered…

But Luke is still talking.

“…so, I feel the easiest way to help him would be to teach him to swim but…” and now Luke looks embarrassed. “I can barely tread water and Grogu is so scared so… would you be able to help?”

“How?”

“I think you being there to show the water is safe would do a lot. Plus, if you knew how to actually swim, that would just seal the deal.”

“I… don’t.” And there are a lot of reasons for that. The main one being the Creed. All those years ago, Xi’an had made a quip about beskar bikinis and… yeah, the crew wrote a lot of terrible jokes. The second reason is that buying specific swimwear for him was never a priority. They had felt like a frivolous expense in the face of the Covert’s financial situation. As the covert’s bounty hunter and main source of income, he had limited all expenses on himself.

“But,” he continues before Luke’s expression can crumble further, “I want to help.”

“Okay that… that’s good. You’re not afraid of water, are you?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll be good.”

“I don’t think it’ll take that much to help him. We could try tomorrow? Forecast says it’ll be hot, we could go to the lake after lessons?”

Din nods. “Sounds like a plan.”

He smiles like the sun. “Great, let me show you to your room.”

Din knows where his room is, he’s been here a couple of times, but he doesn’t comment as he follows the Jedi.

-=-

As he gets ready on the next day, for the first time in maybe ever, Din thinks about what he’s going to wear, which is a futile effort. He doesn’t exactly have… clothes, just beskar and flight suits. He leaves the armor in his room save the helmet. He’s been slowly trying out not wearing his helmet in front of people, but he only lasts maybe a half hour around people and situations he knows, so the helmet stays on.

Midway through zipping up the flight suit, he pauses, considering his compression top. Wearing it wet is never fun, but he also doesn’t need to disappear in his head when he’s trying to help Grogu. He keeps it on, figuring he’ll just endeavor to stay dry above the waist. Most of his weapons he leaves behind as well, except one blaster and a knife. Weapons are still his religion, even if he’s spending most of the day at a lake.

The sounds of Luke and Grogu leaving the Temple filter past his window. It’s a normal routine; Luke and Grogu doing their lessons, leaving Din to putter about for the day, and then they rejoin for the evening. He and Luke agreed he could come for some lessons, but Grogu should learn to control his powers independently of Din being there.

Thankfully, there was enough broken in the temple to leave Din’s hands busy. By the time he’s gotten the basement lights to stop flickering, Luke has lunch packed and Grogu in a sling at his side.

“I figured we could end lessons early to go to the lake,” he explains. Din nods, trying to take in the words and not be distracted by how Luke looks in a birikad.

It’s a longer walk than Din expected to the lake. It’s less than an hour away from the school, but between maneuvering the wild forest and the sun beating down, he’s actually looking forward to going for a dip. He guesses it wouldn’t make sense to have a large body of water near little kids.

When they arrive, Din can’t help but take a moment to admire it. The lake is a dark blue color, nearing green by the rocky shore’s edge, but the sun still makes it sparkle. Low hanging branches edge over the lake, casting shadows in the water. There are some large rocks to the far side as well as other clear pieces of shore.

They settle on a dry part of the shore, putting both picnic basket and Grogu down. The child immediately toddles towards Din, one hand gripping his flight suit, looking warily out at the water. Din leans down to scoop him up.

“It’ll be okay, ad’ika,” he says, “The water can’t hurt you.”

Luke chimes in, “Your dad’s right.”

Grogu doesn’t seem convinced yet.

With lunch set away, Luke pulls off his robes and then his tunic and oh- Din hadn’t been expecting that.

The other man looks up at him, suddenly sheepish. “Sorry, I hope you don’t mind? I’m baking under all those layers.”

Din stumbles through telling him it’s fine, hoping Luke doesn’t realize his gaze is at the twin incision scars on his chest, somehow drawing his eye more than the fractal scars that span the rest of his chest. It’s not a rarity to find others like Din in this wide galaxy, but it’s an unexpected familiarity, especially to find with his son’s teacher.

Luke pauses, still holding his tunic. “Are you okay? I don’t want you getting heatstroke either.”

“I-I’m fine!” he stammers out. Maker, he’s met other trans people before, why does it feel so different with Luke?

“Well, don’t feel obligated to take anything off,” Luke says, folding his robes. He pauses to look Din up and down. “Well, maybe your shoes if you plan on going in.”

Din takes the opportunity to set Grogu back down on the rocks, forcing himself to tear his gaze away. He kneels down to fumble his way through untying his laces.

“So, what is the plan?” he asks, gaze firmly on his boots.

There’s a thump of fabric. “I figured we could start by just getting the two of us in the water, show him it’s safe. Then we’ll just… play it by ear?”

Din looks up once he has his boots off and flight suit pulled up to his knees. Luke looks… nervous? That’s not the word, but there’s something in the expression that Din recognizes as Luke picks up Grogu, speaking softly to him and pointing across the way at the lake. He wants to get this right.

Grogu is still looking at the water hesitantly, big brown eyes threatening to wobble, ears pressed tight against his head. Din walks up and strokes one of them.

“Grogu,” his son picks up his head to look at him, something Din doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. “I’m going to go in the water, but I’ll be fine, okay? You can just watch.”

He tilts his head, considering him for a moment and when there’s no resistance, Din walks into the water.

He bites down on the curse threatening to escape when his bare feet touch water. It’s cold, despite the sun beating down. He looks behind to see Grogu staring at him wide eyed.

“I’m fine, ad’ika. See?” He waves his hands in what he hopes is reassuring.

He walks deeper into the lake, water halfway up to his calves before he hears Grogu’s whimpers. He turns, but his foot catches on a rock and suddenly the ground isn’t firm beneath his feet. The world goes sideways as he loses his balance and cold water is pouring through his helmet.

He scrambles up into a seated position, thankful beskar doesn’t rust. His chest feels tight with the compression top soaked though, which he files away to take care of later. He lifts the helmet just enough to spit out the water, to catch his breath. It’s only then does he hear the kid’s cries, Luke’s attempts to settle him.

“Grogu, Grogu, I’m okay, see?” But something tells him Grogu doesn’t care about his words right now. He sighs, soft enough for it not to be picked up by the voice modulator, and gets out of the water. He slogs through the water, happy that his son doesn’t seem to be reacting in any more dramatic way beside crying.

That is, until he reaches shore and the tide comes in with him. He sits none too gently besides Luke and his son. Grogu immediately holds his arms out to him.

Din takes him, only considering for a second before taking off his helmet. His son touches his face none too gently, grabbing and pinching with those tiny nails of his.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m safe, Grogu,” he says, softly.

He doesn’t rush Grogu, letting him touch his face, feel the breath escaping his lips, touch the wet flight suit. He doesn’t think about Luke being right there, able to see this moment between them, able to see his face.

Grogu settles in his arms, head tucked between his shoulder and chin. Din turns just enough to catch Luke’s eye

“Call it a day?” Din asks, not being able to calm the annoyed feeling in his heart.

Luke shrugs. “We still have lunch.”

They do, so they settle a couple feet farther from the shoreline, Luke offering his robes by way of a blanket. He hands out the food he made for them. Grogu still seems scared for a couple of minutes, but then he’s wolfed down his food and found an insect to follow in and amongst the trees. Din knows he should stop him from then trying to eat the creature, but he doesn’t have the heart. Neither, it seems, does Luke.

The two of them eat in silence, eyes on the still lake or Grogu running around. Din can’t help but berate himself for such a simple slip-up.

He sighs, no longer hungry, as the question that had been on his mind since yesterday bubbles over.

“Did Grogu show… Did you see…?” He doesn’t understand the Force enough to begin to ask the question, but Luke, whether because he’s a Jedi Master or just a good person, seems to understand.

“He… showed me what happened. He was unharmed, but I think he was just… scared.”

“I should have realized he would remember that.”

“You had – have a lot on your plate.”

“But he’s my kid.”

“And I’ve met plenty worse fathers than you,” Luke says with an easy smile that betrays the weight of his words. “But really, you were trying to get him to safety. If we’re going to play a game of what ifs, then I should have gotten to the cruiser faster.”

“You got to us just in time,” Din says, the hint of a question in his tone.

Luke shrugs, “I was too far away. If I was closer, I could have stopped him from experiencing all of that fear and anger.”

Din’s heart clenches, remembering those few days between losing Grogu and getting him back, those sleepless nights, unable to think of anything but the worst possible scenarios.

“Maybe we should stop asking these questions.”

“I agree.”

The conversation dies down after that.

With his heart marginally calmer, Din finds himself better able to appreciate the space around him. The sun’s rays feel like a physical thing against his face. Has he ever had a moment like this? Was this what he was missing when he never took off his helmet. Can he say he missed it when this is the first time that he’s experienced it?

Grogu walks back a little later, dirty with an insect leg poking out between his teeth. Din and Luke share a look before they start packing up.

When they get back to the temple, Din is suddenly made more aware of his wet compression top, clinging to his skin like a vice. He also suddenly doesn’t feel like wearing his flight suit, like a too-small second skin.

Luke seems to notice some of this, because when they get back to the temple, he scuffs his foot on the cobble and asks, “Do you need a change of clothes? We’re not exactly the same… build, but I should have something that fits.”

Din thinks about how long it would take to dry out his clothing, whether he’s even done the laundry yet.

He shrugs. “Sure.”

Luke nods, beckoning him forward to a set of rooms he hasn’t been to before. They’re no bigger than the rest of the temple’s rooms, they honestly might be smaller, but that might be the clutter of droid parts scattered around the floor with every flat surface available covered in objects of strange shapes and yellowing books. It’s not at all what Din expected, but that seems to sum up his entire experience with Luke.

He stands there as Luke pushes aside machinery to open a set of closet doors. He roots around in there before pulling out a couple of black garments.

“These will probably do fine! Just let me know if they don’t.”

Din takes them and thanks him, but he stays where he is, a battle warring in his throat. He’s hyperaware of his chest and while he knows the robes will probably flow well enough to hide, he still feels the need to say something. He knows he doesn’t owe Luke or anyone an explanation, be he wants to.

“I… Back at the lake, I wasn’t staring at you… I mean… I’m trans too.”

“Oh, okay,” his smile is bright enough to fill his chest. “Will you be fine while Grogu and I finish up his lessons?”

Din nods and his heart feels a little more at peace.

The robes are indeed too short, leaving his wrists and ankles completely exposed. He’s not used to the extra layers, how it flows behind him, but the layers help hide his chest, so he’s able to get through the rest of the day.

Any initial discomfort is worth seeing Luke’s face when he comes back in from afternoon lessons. He tries to hide it, but Din spots how he pauses in the doorway, looking straight at Din as he cleans his armor. It only lasts a second before Luke is distracted by Grogu again, so Din files it away for later and goes back to rubbing out the lake smell from his helmet.

-=-

It’s the day before he has to go, but Din feels more restless than normal. Every day since they went to the lake, it’s rained, a downpour that soaked them to the bone if they had to leave the temple for anything.

Din turns to watch Luke and Grogu out the window, meditating in the rain, twin domed force shields above their heads to stay dry. His HUD lights the two of them up in bright reds and yellows as compared to the calm blue of everything else.

He turns back to the lamp he’s been trying to fix for the past hour. He just can’t stop thinking about that day on Trask, how he hadn’t seen the obvious trap, how he’d been unable to rescue his son, how his son still remembers that.

He has to make it right.

When the two come back inside to start their lessons, Din unceremoniously takes Luke by the elbow and brings him into the kitchen. Starts thank Luke, he doesn’t question the sudden detour and just stands there, waiting for Din to put his thoughts into words.

“Can… I borrow Grogu?”

Luke gives him a look. “Of course? He still has time between lessons so, yes?”

“No, I-” Din sighs, “I need both of you… for something.”

Luke tilts his head to the side and Din explains, haltingly, not knowing if this is the right course of action, but it feels necessary. Luke just smiles.

“I think it’s a great idea, and I’d be honored to help.”

They wait until after dinner, when they’ve cleaned up. Grogu just looks at them as the tree of then sit on the couch in the common area. Din’s heart has been jackrabbiting since he and Luke agreed to this, most of his afternoon taken up by what exactly he was going to say, what would happen if it went poorly.

He takes off his helmet, setting it on a side table. Grogu looks up at the movement and is already reaching for him. He can’t help the smile as he lifts him up. He glances over to Luke, who gives him an encouraging nod.

“Grogu?”

He looks into his eyes at that and Din feels his heart break a little more.

“I… I don’t want you to feel bad for being afraid of water. It’s understandable considering… everything. Luke and I will help you be less afraid if… if you want. I should never have put you in danger like that on Trask. I will always prioritize your safety. Ni ceta. Can you forgive me?”

Grogu stares at him with those big brown eyes before reaching for his face. Luke’s ungloved hand comes up and touches his son on the back.

Luke opens his eyes and gives him a smile.

“You were already forgiven.”

Din pulls his son in for a tight hug. If tears form at the corner of his eyes as he thanks Luke for his help, Luke doesn’t say anything.

-=-

The next day was supposed to be Din’s last day, but early that morning, when he wakes up and sees the rain has stopped, he calls Bo-Katan. What he wants to say is that he can come here to collect the damn darksaber because there’s nothing more he wants to do than stay here. He doesn’t say that, but he does tell her he’s staying a few days more. He hangs up on her before she can reach a fever pitch.

At breakfast, he just tells Luke he can stay longer. Then he recommends they try going to the lake again.

The walk to the lake isn’t any more tense, but he can feel Grogu curl up tighter against his chest as trees give way to the lake. The lake is bigger than last time, much of the coast now disappeared under the water.

“Why don’t you go in this time?” Din offers.

Luke smirks at him, “Now are you afraid of water, Mando?”

On instinct, forgetting he’s at a bright lakeside and thinking he’s in the sewers of Nevarro, he punches Luke’s shoulder like he would’ve Paz’s. Luke goes careening to the side, only barely keeping himself on two feet. His expression is shocked and there’s an apology on Din’s tongue until Luke bursts out laughing.

“Maker, if you wanted me in the water that badly, you only had to ask!” Luke says, punching Din back. The flight suit lessens the blow, but Din still feels as knocked over as Luke was.

“S-Sorry,” he manages to get out.

Luke waves him off, still smiling. “If I couldn’t take a punch like that, I’d never survive being Han’s friend. You just surprised me.”

He removes his robes again and Din is thankful he thinks to avert his gaze beforehand.

Luke walks in, hissing at the chill. He only goes up to his ankles, before kneeling down, black pants growing darker by the second as water laps around him.

“See, Grogu? The water’s fine.” Luke splashes his hands gently in the water, creating little ripples.

Din looks down at Grogu, still in his arms. His head is ducked into Din’s shoulder.

Din kneels down so they’re more at eye level.

“Grogu? Look, what’s Master Luke doing?”

The child turns and watches. Luke has the same kind smile on his face the whole time. Grogu watches, ears twitching the whole time.

And then a different expression comes over Luke’s face. He shifts his position, now sitting with legs crossed, his hands held out above the water and eyes closed. Din is just about to ask what he’s doing when the water around him moves and rises.

Individual balls of water lift into the air, surrounding Luke. A couple are as big as Grogu’s head, some are as small as a pebble, a multitude of sizes. Sunlight reflects off their surface so that it looks like crystals. Then they move, gently circling around Luke.

Luke cracks open an eye before smiling. “See, Grogu? Water can be scary, but it can also be beautiful.”

Din can’t get his mouth to work, still trying to put these two images together, of a man with a bright laugh and a decent punch, and this ethereal wonder.

He manages to break his gaze and look at Grogu, who for the first time this whole visit, looks at the lake with awe instead of fear.

-=-

The next time Din is able to make it to Yavin IV, after a long quest to retake a minor city in Mandalore, he’s met with smiling faces at the end of the ramp.

“C’mon!” Luke says with no preamble. “We have something to show you!”

It’s not the first time Luke has led with that. Grogu likes showing his progress and Din is the best audience, being impressed with whatever Grogu has to show.

Instead of the Temple or the usual outside training ground, Luke heads straight for the lake. As he follows, Din can’t help but spot how there’s more of a path worn in through the grass and plants. He can even see straight to the dirt in some areas.

The lake looks the same as ever, clear water, low hanging trees, a rocky coast.

Luke doesn’t bother shucking off his robes, just walks in the water with Grogu still in his arms and kneels down. Luke lowers Grogu down into the water and Din is glad his helmet doesn’t pick up his gasp when Grogu doesn’t fuss. He just stands there, waist deep, looking up to his teacher.

“C’mon, Grogu,” Luke says, smiling, “like we practiced.”

Grogu nods before taking a deep breath and blowing out air before slowing lowering his head into the water. Small bubbles escape the water where his mouth is. It feels like Din’s heart has grown in his chest.

“Good job, Grogu!” Luke exclaims as Grogu stands up straight.

Din rips off his boots before joining the two in the water. Luke picks Grogu back up so he’s not overwhelmed by the waves Din makes. He settles in beside Luke, sides brushing as he takes a knee.

“That was really good, kid!” Din exclaims, picking up his son and holding him tight.

Grogu burbles happily. Luke catches Din’s eye and he can’t help but smile more.

-=-

Trips to the lake become a regular occurrence when Din visits. Yavin IV is temperate, so if the sky is clear and the day warm, the three head out to the edge of the lake. Grogu is happy to chase frogs near the edge, less scared of falling in now, especially with more lessons in blowing bubbles and painstaking lessons in floating.

Din has since picked up swimwear of his own, after he couldn’t get the lake smell out of one of his flight suits. It’s a tank top that still functions as a compression top and board shorts. He still brings his helmet with him, but he finds himself wearing it less and less by the lake, especially when he gets in the water.

It’s… nice. It’s one of the nicest things Din has had in a while. It’s a sanctuary from the stresses and pain of life in the galaxy, something for just the three of them, even if three sometimes becomes four when Artoo gets bored, and sometimes four becomes seven or eight when Luke’s friends make supply runs and then linger after. Even still, Din thinks of that spot as “theirs;” him, Luke, and Grogu.

The thought frightens him sometimes.

What also frightens him his how his heart rate continues to skyrocket when Luke takes off his robes to bask in the sun, this time not because of that twinge of familiarity at seeing the incision scars. His heart also can’t calm down on the day when Luke explains how he feels more attune to the Force when he feels the sun beat down on his bare skin, how it almost feels like home.

Din doesn’t know how to respond, especially when he realizes in some way, he understands, so he can only nod.

-=-

Late one day, when Din is underneath his ship, tightening up a part that got loose the last time he jumped through hyperspace, he hears the familiar pat of feet against the launchpad.

“I was out by the lake late at night,” Luke says.

Din grunts in response.

“It was really beautiful. Felt like there were thousands of lightning bugs out there.”

“I bet it was.”

“I’d like to show it to you… tonight… alone.”

That gets Din to roll out from under the Crest.

“What about Grogu?”

“The Temple has a state-of-the-art security system and Artoo can keep watch.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Tonight.”

“Yeah, once it gets dark enough.”

And suddenly anticipation fills Din’s stomach for the rest of the evening. He doesn’t know what “dark enough” means, the sun’s barely set by the time he’s done with the Crest and he can see two lighting bugs blinking by the Temple Garden. Luke waits until after dinner and after Grogu is fast asleep to walk Din out, gloved hand in gloved hand, even though they both know the way there. Neither of them makes a move to disentangle themselves.

The lake is both gorgeous and terrifying at night. There are just as many lightning bugs as Luke promised, lighting up the area. Even still, the water is as dark as space, and looks just as infinite.

Din is thankful he kept his helmet on. He’s glad Luke doesn’t comment on it. In fact, Luke doesn’t seem to mind at all.

They only go up to their knees in the dark water, looking out at the dancing light show and just talking. Their hands keep finding each other, after taking off their shoes, after releasing a lighting bug that’s landed on one of them, after righting oneself after nearly slipping.

Din tries not to think about how perfect this feels.

-=-

It’s a couple of days later that they are able to go back to the lake. It’s another washout, but none of them particularly mind. Din finds himself bumping into Luke more and more, the physical contact a welcome novelty.

Neither of them talks about the night at the lake. They don’t have to.

Once the rain stops, they wait a couple of days for the waterline to recede before going back to the lake.

And he has to assume it was because of being cooped up in the temple for a couple of days that causes Luke to ask him, “Have you used some of those tools for… non-bounty hunting purposes?”

Din tilts his head in Luke’s direction and takes longer than necessary to respond. He knows its rude to watch Luke squirm under his gaze, but after a question like that, he has to.

“What do you mean?”

“I just… see that tree branch?”

Din looks in the direction where Luke is pointing and spots a tree hanging over the lake. He nods.

“I bet you could use your ripcord and swing into the lake.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Seems fun, I assume kids who grew up around water would do that. Seems like the kind of thing.”

It does, like when he and the other foundlings would climb the pipes in Nevarro before an adult found them out.

“I don’t want to be a bad influence.”

Luke gives him a look. “Grogu has seen you fly out of the mouth of a greater krayt dragon, which I still need more details on.”

Din snorts, before considering it. All of these days by the lake means he actually is a somewhat passable swimmer. He can’t swim fast, but he can hold his breath and maneuver pretty well.

Plus, the more he thinks about it, the more it does sound like fun.

“Fine.”

“What?”

“I’ll do it.”

“I mean… don’t feel pressured.”

“Nope, I have to now.”

Luke looks at him before cracking into a smile. Din just shakes his head as he divests himself of unnecessary gear. He takes only the gauntlet that contains his ripcord, leaving his helmet and everything else safely on the coast before walking in the direction of the tree.

He climbs through the thrush, glancing over to make sure Luke is still looking at him. Why does he care that Luke’s looking at him?

He has to circle back to find the tree Luke had spotted. He steps around roots poking out through the soil and into a flat rock. The tree itself bends over him, a couple of lower branches nearly skimming the water. He jumps up and grabs into the tree, making sure it can hold his weight and won’t snap when he’s airborne.

It feels solid enough, but he pulls on a few branches before spotting what looks to be the best for the job. He lets out the ripcord, tugging on the branch before disengaging the chord from the spinning mechanism.

He glances to the shore, where Luke and Grogu are watching him. Din shakes his head, why does he feel so nervous for something like this? Then he gives it a test swing, gripping the rope and running to the edge of the stone before jumping off.

He doesn’t let go just let, more focused on making sure the branch doesn’t snap as he swings back and forth. He lands back on the rock, firm ground beneath him.

He looks at the window of clear blue surrounded by leaves and trees. Something flies through his heart like hope, like joy, and he doesn’t think anymore. He grabs the rope, runs forward, swings out and lets go.

A whoop comes unbidden from his chest and soon he’s flying, but unlike those precious moments where he had the jetpack, he can feel the wind flow around all of him. He crests in the air and the weightless feeling lingers for a moment longer before he’s being pulled back down to the lake and is suddenly plunged into cold.

He takes a moment just to let the cold settle over him before searching out the light of the sun and kicking off a rock to shoot upward toward the surface.

He breeches the surface to twinned cheers and rapid beeping. He shakes the water from his eyes, peeling curling hair out of his eyes to see Luke cheering, with Grogu clapping on top of Artoo’s head. He waves, the grin on his face threatening to break.

Maker, he wants to do that again.

But with the buzzing on insects, the gentle lapping of the water around him, and the sun beating down above him, he can’t help but roll onto his back and float, his eyes sliding shut as the sun lands on him with warm pressure.

It only feels like a few seconds have passed when a loud and clear voice rings out tough the clearing.

“Look out below!”

Din opens his eyes and sees Luke, mid arc. He’s stripped off to his basics and he is soaring, arms spread wide, whooping and hollering as he flies.

He crashes into the water mere feet from Din, the waves he creates overturning Din. He tumbles briefly in the water before he’s able to resurface, coughing out a small mouthful of water.

Luke is beside him, golden hair clinging to his forehead, chest glistening, and absolutely beaming.

“Having fun?” Din asks, voice rough from the water swallowed.

“We have to do that again.”

“Where’s Grogu?”

“On the shore, being watched by Artoo.”

Din looks and sure enough, Grogu has attached himself to one of the droid’s legs.

“Race you back?” Luke asks, already turning in the direction of the rock.

“Wait!”

Luke turns back, an eyebrow raised.

Din pushes himself to close the small distance between them. “Can I kiss you?”

Luke smiles. “Yes.”

Din could count on one hand the number of kisses he’s had, and he’s definitely never been kissed while treading water. Their legs bump against each other and Luke has to steady himself on Din’s shoulders. Both of them taste of lake water and it’s hard to get a grip on Luke’s torso, but when Din lets himself forget about how they’re probably sinking a little, and just enjoy the press of their bodies, the glide of their lips, it’s everything he didn’t know he needed.

#dinluke #skydalorian #din x luke #luke/din #luke x din #i know it doesnt matter when a fic is posted #but this was like the first fic i had planned for dinluke week that had me super excited #especially when i made it t4t like i had that revalation and immediately wrote 2k lol #this is also the fic that made me want to write even more trans stuff for dinluke week #more trans dinluke yall its what we deserve #also this is one of those fics where i just had to stop looking at it and post bc just aaaaaaa #also now im taking a din/luke writing break bc 4 fics in a week is INTENSE lmao #and i dont want burnout #my fanfic #kappa writes #the mandalorian #star wars #sw

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

Hello!! I’d also love to read the hobbit fic. I love everything you write!

Hello! I’m so so SO happy people are interested in my other work, even if it’s terribly tragic and angsty! Please read the tw for this work, since it does get pretty intense even with a happy ending.

For context: this is a snippet of an Tolkien AU I never wrote where the marauders and co are on an adventure and James has healing powers.

TW: temporary major character death, heavy angst, blood/ mild gore, fighting, grief, “enemies to lovers but I’m dying” trope, happy ending

The cold stone digging into Sirius’ cheek did little to shock him from his daze and trembled beneath him as heavy footsteps approached. The screech of metal on metal had been the harbinger of death for too many already. What was one more?

An iron-clad foot landed on his shoulder and rolled him onto his back—he groaned as the edges dug into muscle, leaving him breathless with pain. He was battered, bruised, soon to be broken. Make it quick, he prayed as the axe rose high. Remus, I’m sorry.

There was a flash of movement overhead and the beast stumbled; the swing went wide and slammed against the cliff’s edge as its head was wrenched backward. Long legs locked around its thick neck and an angular face, twisted in a snarl, swam into focus through Sirius’ hazy vision.

“Remus,” he managed, little more than a whisper. “Remus, no.”

Midnight blood trickled from the troll’s neck where a bowstring cut into it. “Go!” Remus shouted as he pulled back with all his might. “Run, you idiot!”

He heaved in a breath and tried to get to his feet, but pain radiated through his torso and he barely made it to his knees before the beast roared and snatched at Remus, who leaned sideways just a touch too far and rolled onto the hard ground. The troll ripped his bow off its neck and threw it to the ground, then lunged for him; Remus dodged, turned, and shoved its arm into the corner of the rock with a harsh crack. The axe tumbled over the side and vanished into the mist.

Sirius must have made some sort of noise as he struggled to get up—get up, broken ribs be damned—because Remus’ gaze snapped toward him.

It happened too fast for Sirius to even gasp. One moment, Remus was reaching to deflect the troll’s trunklike arm from coming down on his head; the next, his eyes flared wide with shock and he sucked in a shuddering breath. The beast twisted the jagged knife in his stomach and yanked it out.

Remus dropped like a broken marionette.

Sirius’ vision blurred again, and not from pain. Distantly, he registered drawing his sword, but the next thing he knew the troll was dead and his hands were covered in blood and Remus was going cold in his arms.

Remus’ mouth twisted with frantic pain. “Sirius.”

“I’ve got you, you’re alright.” His tongue was thick between his teeth and he could feel his whole body shaking while he pressed a hand down on the dark stain spreading across Remus’ torso. “Just hold on, you’re going to be fine.”

“Hurts,” Remus whimpered, grabbing the front of his shirt with clumsy fingers. “Hurts. I’m so sorry.”

“You saved my life.” Sirius’ voice wavered as tears filled his eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Remus shook his head; his bloodstained lips were growing paler by the second. “I didn’t say it sooner. I’m sorry.”

A sob ripped from Sirius’ chest as he gathered him tighter, feeling his weak heartbeat under his palm as his fingers turned red. “Don’t you dare, not now. Not here. Say it when you’re healed, alright? Say when I can hold you properly.”

“Has to be now.” Remus took a few staccato breaths, then exhaled slowly. He reached up and cradled Sirius’ cheek with surprising gentleness. Sirius braced himself. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. Sirius, I wanted forever with you, I’m so sorry.”

It was so, so much worse than Sirius had imagined. Tears traced down Remus’ forearm as he leaned into the touch and let the words spill over his lips. “I love you too, you beautiful, reckless archer.”

“Knight in—” Remus coughed again and jolted in his arms, sending a thin trickle of blood from the side of his mouth. “Knight in shining armor, huh?”

“That’s right,” Sirius sniffled. He brushed stray curls off Remus’ forehead and his tawny eyes slipped shut for a moment. Cold fear flooded Sirius’ veins. “Remus, love, keep your eyes open. Keep them on me.”

A small smile spread over his face despite his small shudders of pain. “How could I ever look away?”

“You’re not allowed to.” Sirius tightened his grip. “Listen. You are not allowed to stop looking at me.”

Remus’ eyes turned sad as his hand dipped down to play at the collar of Sirius’ shirt, too weak to go higher. “I think I have to.”

“No.”

“Sirius—”

“We still have so much to do.” Something heavy stuck in his throat. “I need—I need to show you the stars back home, the ones you’ve never seen.”

The smile returned, molasses-slow and twitching up at one side. Crooked and beautiful, just like him. “The archer.”

“That’s right.” His gaze unfocused and Sirius quickly rubbed his shoulder. “That’s you, your constellation. Just keep looking at me, alright? James will be here soon, and—and Lily, and Dorcas, and Marlene, and Pete, and we’ll all be just fine. I love you.”

Every breath rattled in Remus’ chest, but he kept smiling up at Sirius. “Hey. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Good,” Sirius gasped out. “Good, that’s good. Come on, love, tell me what I can do to help.”

“Hold me.” His abdomen spasmed under Sirius’ damp hand. “Tell me what we’ll do together.”

“We’ll climb the tallest tree we can find and lay down on the top branches while the moon rises.” Tears coursed in stinging rivers down his face, dripping onto stone and pallid skin. “I’ll teach you every constellation I know, and then we can make up new ones. You’re so bloody clever, so you’ll think up the best ones. That’s why I love you.”

“I never hated you, you know.”

Sirius’ chest hurt from holding in a sob. “I know.”

“I’ve loved you since the day we met. I just didn’t know it.”

“Me, too.”

“Wasn’t all that clever of me to fight a troll with a bow, was it?” Remus’ tone was teasing, but his face was sad as a few tears slid down his cheekbone. Sirius wiped them away with a careful hand, forcing back a wince at the chill. “Though I guess you could call that creati—”

He cut off with a coughing fit, grabbing for Sirius’ cuff and sleeve. His mouth opened and closed a few times, soundless, before his head lolled to the side. “No, no, eyes on me. Please don’t do this, Remus.”

With a harsh inhale, he looked up once again, brows furrowing in concern. "You're too beautiful to cry like that. Why are you sad?"

Because you're dying and I can't do a damn thing but hold you. Because I'd fight a hundred armies and die a thousand times just so you could live. Because we were supposed to have time. "Because I don't want you to leave me."

Remus' fingers, light as a butterfly's wings on his loved ones and deadlier than anything on a bow, were limp on Sirius' arm. A sudden spark of understanding crossed over his pale face and he softened. "You have to let me go."

"No."

"You have to."

"I won't." He shook his head adamantly and tried to coax blood back into those cold hands. "This is not supposed to happen, not like this."

"Sirius." A barely-there squeeze. "I love you so much, but you have to let me go."

A high, horrible sound ripped from his clogged throat. "I'm sorry."

"You saved my life. You have nothing to be sorry for." There was a look in Remus' eyes, then, a look that Sirius knew the name for and didn't dare say aloud. Then it faded, and he blinked slowly. "I'm so tired, Sirius."

Who would have guessed that nodding once was the hardest thing Sirius would ever have to do? "Sleep, love. I'll be here when you wake up."

Remus leaned his face into the crook of Sirius’ elbow, keeping steady eye contact until lilac lids shuttered liquid gold. “I lo…”

His hand fell from Sirius’ and hit the cold ground. His chest went still with a soft sigh.

Sirius could barely breathe. There was a ringing in his ears that grew louder and louder until he heard nothing else, even though his throat began to sting from screaming. He pulled Remus closer to his chest and held him, desperately searching the mist for anyone who could help. His eyes landed on the sturdy bow with a snapped string lying mere feet away, and he broke.

He didn't know how long he wept. Minutes. Hours. Years. He begged and pleaded and cursed until he was hollow inside, save for the agony that devoured everything. It must be possible to die of a broken heart, he thought. It must be, because I can't imagine anything else hurting this much. It felt as though someone was ripping him apart seam by seam and all he could do was apologize before going silent.

Hold me. Hold me. Hold me and tell me. I love you.

Soon—or maybe later, time was a fickle thing—long shadows stretched ahead of him and he raised his head. He didn't care if they were trolls or soldiers or more beasts; there was nothing left for them to take. "Sirius?"

He knew that voice. That voice was safety. It was home. "James."

"We heard shouting, what—” James stopped. Someone behind him screamed, long and loud. "Sirius, what's in your arms?" There was a beat of silence as Sirius tried to balance his hearing again. "Sirius, what are you holding?"

The last remaining tears in his body flooded out as he uncurled just enough to show them. Remus' face was peaceful, but the mess of blood on his stomach that had transferred to Sirius' shirt was not. "He was protecting me," he said. "The knife—I couldn't do anything—”

"No." James' voice cracked; the screaming had turned into uncontrollable sobbing. "No, that's—that's Remus. That's Remus."

"He said he loved me." The words tripped over one another as they left his mouth. James didn't need to know this, but he couldn't stop. "He said he loved me and asked me to hold him, so I did. He told me I had to let him go, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to, James, I didn't want to."

“I know.” Warm, shaking hands fell on him, one on his neck and the other around Remus’ back. “I know you didn’t.”

Sirius' shoulders crumpled as a fresh wave of pain washed over him. "Make it stop."

"Make what stop?"

"This." He released Remus' lower back and grappled for James' wrist with a sticky hand, pressing it against his chest. "It hurts so much. Please, Jamie, you have no idea what this feels like."

“I don’t—Sirius—” James bit his lip and closed his eyes, then opened them a second later with a shocked look on his face. “I have an idea.”

“Please—”

The shock gave way to diamond-hard determination and he squeezed Sirius’ hand. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then you have to let him go one more time.”

Something lurched in Sirius’ gut. “I can’t. I promised to hold him.”

“Sirius, I can fix this.”

"He's gone. I felt it. It's too late."

“Maybe not.” Gently, he pried Sirius’ arms away and helped him lay Remus on the stone.

He looked frail there. False. “You’re a healer, James, not a necromancer. Healers can’t—”

“I don’t give a shit. Rules are for cowards.” James unbuckled his arm guards and stretched his hands over Remus’ chest, taking a slow breath. “Alright, Remus, heal for me.”

Faint light pulsed from his palms, then dissolved. Sirius felt his last bit of hope wither. “It’s too late.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” James muttered through gritted teeth. The light returned, stronger this time, before sinking into Remus’ chest. “Remus John Lupin, you have unfinished business here and you know it. I will personally drag you back here if I have to. A ghost isn’t good enough.”

A high-pitched whining noise filled the air and Sirius tasted metal at the back of his mouth. “James,” Lily warned from the huddled group behind him.

“You’ve never given up easy, have you? Come on, you stubborn fucker, heal!” James slammed his hands down and white light blazed around them; Sirius shielded his eyes on instinct and felt a strong wind whip up as shouts of alarm echoed off the sides of the cliff.

Something knocked against his knees with a sharp gasp. The light dimmed, and he carefully peeked around the side of his arm.

The first thing he saw was amber. Clear, warm, alive amber. “You’re here,” Remus croaked.

Sirius felt a slightly hysterical smile tug at the sides of his mouth. “Told you I’d be here when you woke up.”

“I…died.”

“Yeah.” James seemed torn between ecstatic and utterly exhausted.

“You brought me back?”

“Uh-huh.” He listed to the side and Remus caught him easily before he hit the ground.

“And you…?” Remus blinked at Sirius in surprise, hesitantly touching his hand. “You stayed?”

“Cried a lot. It’s a good thing you’re a fighter. One of the things I love about you, actually.”

Remus stared at him for a moment, dumbstruck, before his whole face split into the most radiant smile Sirius had ever seen and he began to laugh, dragging him in for a tight hug. Sirius clutched the back of his shirt and nestled his face in the bend of his shoulder until he was pulled away rather suddenly and reeled back in for a fervent kiss. "I love you. I love you. I'm sorry," Remus said against his lips. It seemed as if he was breathing Sirius in.

It was difficult, but Sirius pulled away and folded his hands over Remus' where they rested on his face. "I love you so much. Now that you're alive, I can tell you you're an idiot for trying to take on a damn troll with just your bow."

Remus just laughed and kissed him again, deep and slow. They broke apart again as the others fell on them in a tangle of tears and laughter; Sirius closed his eyes and held tight to whoever was in reach as the agony in his chest subsided. The pain was still there—he had definitely broken a few ribs—but he no longer felt hollow. Buzzing warmth filled every crack that had splintered through him. Love, he thought giddily. That's love.

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toosicktoocare · 3 years ago

Text

I finally got to play Resident Evil Village, and I’m having feelings. Below is set after the big Lycan attack, and Chris is not just who the heck knows where keeping his secrets but instead nearby to help Ethan.

Ethan’s faced death more times than any average man should ever even have to consider, and each time does not get any easier—again, a sentence he wishes he could physically rip straight from his lexicon.

He stares into the beast’s eyes, irises so dark he can see his own pale reflection looking back in ghostly, frozen horror. He is sure, in this moment, he’ll be ripped into two, with his own inverted terror as the last image he’ll ever see. But then, completely on par with this twisted village, something grabs the beast’s attention, and the beast is leaping away, his large jump flinging drops of muddy water at him.

As the remaining Lycans race away, the ringing in Ethan’s ears begins to die down, giving way to the faint sound of the stream below him. His mind is a dark hole of delirium and disbelief, and his heart is a jackhammer in his chest, beating so hard he can hardly catch a breath.

He should focus on what the hell just happened, but instead, he turns to the arrow sticking out from his leg. The cold stream he’s half submerged in has done its part to numb the pain at the edges, but it still hurts enough to have him yank the arrow from his leg. Nausea overtakes him briefly, from his leg and from the pressure on his mangled hand that is beginning to look worse, concerning even.

“Ethan!”

The voice behind him is a sharp, familiar whisper, and Ethan jerks around, ignoring the unnatural sway to his vision to squint narrowly at the unwelcome addition to his day.

“Chris? What the hell—” Ethan tries, words cutting off when Chris slams a hand across his mouth.

“Quiet,” Chris mutters, and Ethan watches how Chris looks over his shoulder with muted alarm, and he follows his gaze, craning his neck to see an old woman with her back to them.

Ethan grabs at Chris’s wrist, and Chris’s gaze finally snaps back to him, eyes going wide at Ethan’s hand. Chris keeps one hand to Ethan’s mouth but snags his wrist with the other, bringing Ethan’s injured hand close to his eyes for trained inspection.

“This doesn’t look good,” Chris mutters, and Ethan groans against Chris’s palm, and he pulls his face into a look he hopes screams ‘no shit’ as loud as he can manage.

“I’ve cleared a house,” Chris starts again, motioning with his head toward a run-down house not far from the two. “I have a few of my men in there.” He pauses, eyes narrowing. “I’m going to move my hand now, so keep quiet.”

Chris moves his hand, and Ethan glares. “Fuck you,” he starts, “you killed Mia.” He moves to his feet, staggers, and Chris reaches forward with a hand to his shoulder that he quickly shrugs off. “No. Back off, Chris. I’m only in this mess because of you,” he growls, but when he moves to turn on his heel, his vision swims again, and the cold he’s been pushing down creeps up to ice over his body. He teeters to the left, and his limbs begin jerking through shivers.

“Easy, Ethan.”

Ethan can feel Chris snake an arm around his waist, and he weakly tries to fight him off, failing against waning energy as he’s pulled toward the safe house and dumped onto a ratty bed. He is sure he can feel a spring digging into his back, but the bed is just warm enough to have him clawing at the blankets, too tired to be aggravated when Chris helps by tugging the blankets over his shaking form.

“Let me see your hand.”

“Screw you.”

“Your comebacks get worse when you’re half out of it, Winters.”

“Fine,” Ethan spits out around a weak cough. “Fuck you, Redfield.”

Chris pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand, and he gives Ethan’s wrist a light squeeze. “You think you can save your daughter like this, Ethan?”

The second the words leave Chris’s mouth, Ethan yanks his hand away and pushes himself up on his elbows, but before he can chase the hot words threatening to rip up his throat, Chris grabs his wrist once more, and he loses his balance, falling back against the bed with a rough fit of coughs.

Chris makes silent work of his hand, careful, surprisingly gentle, and Ethan watches through half-lidded eyes, exhaustion pushing a large hand down atop him.

“Why did you do it?”

“Look, Ethan, I can’t really explain much right now.”

“Why not?” Ethan shouts, his anger keeping him awake just enough, a small flame from a match burning against his heart.

“There are things we still don’t understand,” Chris mutters, hands moving through muscle movement as he wraps gauze around Ethan’s hand.

“Well, you could start by explaining to me why you and your men broke into my house and killed my wife.” Ethan’s voice is, though rasp-ridden, is dark, and he’s sure he can see one of the men watching a window flinch at his words.

“It’s complicated,” Chris sighs, and Ethan wants to say more, he wants to rip his knife from his pocket and cut into every detail Chris is dodging, but a sharp shiver jerks up his spine, interrupting his heated, malicious thoughts, and Chris, finishing the bandaging, sheds his own jacket and drapes it over Ethan, frowning.

“Rest.”

“I don’t have time to rest,” Ethan mutters, his voice shaking, and Chris rests a palm to his forehead.

“We are keeping an eye on Mother Miranda. We will make sure nothing happens to Rose, okay? For now, you need to sleep and stay warm. You’re practically a block of ice right now.”

He’s not wrong, Ethan thinks, teeth chattering. But Rose needs him, and every second he rests, she’s thrust into more danger, growing farther from his safe grasp. Losing her is the last thought he has before he drifts into an unsettled rest, waking hours later to a key in his hand, windows and back door boarded up, front door padlocked tightly, and a note nailed to the wall beside his bed.

“Get rid of the key when you let yourself out. Left some supplies by the back door. Good luck, and we’ll meet up soon.” -CR

Though he still feels relatively terrible, with a hint of a migraine gnawing at the edge of his vision and his limbs still tight and shaky from the cold, he adjusts to his ailments quickly, a perk of his military training after Louisiana.

Near the back door, he finds boxes of ammo, and he makes quick, practiced work of reloading his guns. When he’s sure he has looked over the house completely, he quietly lets himself out of the house, unsurprised to see the old woman still standing outside, still drawing shapes in the dirt and muttering under her breath.

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 village #ethan winters #chris redfield #whump #fanfic #unpopular opinion but i actually like ethan winters #i mean i'd love an s/o who would go through all this for me/kid #his random corny-ass dialogue just made me like him more tbh #but also i'm not trying to come up with that not-funny wit right now #i think i may want to write a few more of these in Ethan's crappy situations

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zmayadw · 3 years ago

Text

Evening to all!

Time to continue the story :)

Wish you all a nice and relaxed evening :)

Oh, and before I dont forget:

WARNING - contains violence and some other "oh-not-so-good-stuff" - WARNING

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 25

Jakes POV

„So, what's the verdict?“ Jessy asked me, nervously bitting at her thumb. We wer sitting at the kitchen table, Dan checking his phone and casually sipping his beer. „Don't worry, Jessy“ I said to her „It's just a virus you got, I'll fix it in no time.“ „Oh, that's good to hear.“ She said sighing with relief. „And I won't lose any of my work stuff that's on it?“ „Nah, everything will be intact.“ I said. „And if you like, I could install you a better antivirus program, so this doesn't happen again.“ „Yes, please!“ she exclaimed „I definitely don't want for this to happen ever again.“ I chuckled „Sure, I'll do it. But, just to be sure this doesn't happen again, if I wer you, I wouldn't let Dan nowhere near the laptop again.“ Dan almost choked with his beer when I said it, and Jessy turned to him „I knew it! This was all your fault!“ „Sorry, babe“ Dan said making a puppy face „But you know my laptop is shitty and slow, so I might have borrowed yours from time to time.“ I shook my head turning my focus back to Jessy's laptop, as they continued to argue, and I took the opportunity to send Maya a message saying I'll be done soon. „I don't care why you needed it, you are forbidden to go near my laptop ever again!“ Jessy was so furious at Dan, and poor him couldn't do anything but sit there and endure it. „I'm sorry, babe. I won't touch your laptop ever again, I promise!“ Dan said to her sounding a bit daunted. I laughed inside. He looked tought on the outside, but Jessy was the one person he was genuinely scared of. „Good!“ she said, turning to me now, flashing me a smile like she didn't just yell furiously at Dan a second ago. „I'm sorry, how rude of me, I haven't even offered you something to drink. Would you like a beer?“ I checked the time on my phone „Hmm, guess I could have one beer before I go.“ „Oh, are you in a hurry?“ Jessy asked me confused, taking the beer from the fridge and handing it to me. „Maya said you have nothing to do. I hope I haven't disrupted your plans?“ „No, no, you didn't“ I said reassuringly and smiled „I'm taking Maya for a movie later, but still plenty of time before it starts.“ „Oh, how nice of you.“ Jessy said sighing, turning to Dan „Why can't you be more like that?“ „Hey, don't be like that, I take you out!“ Dan said hurt by her words. „Oh really?“ she said to him, raising her eyebrow„When was the last time you took me anywhere!?“ Dan thought for a moment before he grinned at her. „The other day, we went for that nice evening walk.“ He said victorious, and Jessy snorted „You mean, the walk home, from the middle of nowhere, because someone forgot to put gas in his car?“ „Details!“ he said „But It still counts as something, right?“ he said and grinned at her again. She rolled her eyes, turning to me, sighing desperately „See what I have to deal with.“

Mayas POV

„I apologise for my intrusion, miss Cole“ the man said to me „But you see, your nosy friends made me alter my plans a little.“ I stared confused at the man, as that feeling of dread started to rise up in me more. „I don't understan.“ I said, and the man smirked „Those phone calls, miss Cole“ he said „You weren't suppose to find out about the origin of them so soon.“ I froze at his words, panic washing all over me. I was scared, a little voice in the back of my head screaming at me to snap out of it and do something. I blinked a few times regaining my focus, as the man continued to stare at me. I tried to slam the doors shut, but the man stopped it with his foot. He pushed hard at the doors, and I staggered backwards into the room, barely managing to keep my balance. „Now, now, miss Cole“ the man said stepping inside „There is no need for this kind of behaviour.“ He slowly closed the doors turning back to me, his eyes glowing with frenzy as he looked at me. „I'm sure by now, you realized what the outcome of this will be for you.“ I stared back at him, terrified, hoping Jake would come back any second now. „Why are you doing this?“ I asked, trying to stall for time „ I dont understand, what have I done to you?“ The man shook his head and chuckled „I thought you figured it out by now, miss Cole.“ He said. „I guess I gave you more credit then you deserve.“ He took a step closer to me, and I reflexively took a step back. „You see, miss Cole“ he said, his hand going for the pocket of his jacket „You meddled into things you shouldn't have.“ I was still clueless of what he was referring to. And still, there was something familiar to me about him, but my brain was shut from fear that it just didn't get to me. The man sighed „By the look on your face, I assume I will have to explain it to you.“ Despite the fear, I was actually curious to hear his explanation, and hoped with it I'll get more time for Jake to come back. „You see, miss Cole“ he started, taking another step towards me, and again, I took a step back, bumping at the desk „If only you wern't so stubborn and stayed out of Duskwood, non of this would had to happen.“ As his words settled at me, it was like a flash back hit me. My eyes widened, as I slowely started to realize what was so familiar about the man to me. It was his eyes – the eyes I knew so well once. The eyes that, at the beginning, looked at me with so much care and sympathy, but ended up full of hate and contemp for me. Just like the man's were now. „You're..“ I started but I couldn't finish it. I leaned at the desk behind me for support still not beliving my cognition. The man raised his eyebrow at me „Ah, you finaly figured it out. Go on, miss Cole, finish your sentence.“ I just continued to stare at him, feeling more terrified by my realization. „Finish it!“ the man yelled it furiously at me, making me jump from fright. The frenzy in the mans eyes was the same as the one I stared back at not so long ago. I swallowed hard „You're Richy's father. Paul.“ The man smiled wickedly at me „Very good, miss Cole, now we're getting somewhere.“ As he said it, his hand came out of his pocket. I went numb, my breath stopping, as the light flashed from the blade of the knife in his hand. Damn it, Jake, where are you! „All right, miss Cole, now that we got the facts right, there is no further need to explain my presence here. Everything should be clear as day now.“ He took another step towards me, and I cursed inside for not having any more space to retreat backwards. I moved one hand behind me, trying to find something on the desk that I might use to my defense. The only two things on the desk wer my phone and laptop. My eyes constantly darted towards the doors, as I still hoped Jake would step inside any moment now. „Any way, miss Cole, I belive the time for talking is over, no need to further delay the inevitable.“ He said to me, his eyes flashing frantically. The panic took over me completely now, as he rised the knife coming towards me.

As he came close to me, the panic was finally replaced with the adrenalin kicking in. I quickly turned arround, grabbing my laptop from the desk, swinging it as hard as I could to the mans face. The impact sended him to the floor, the knife dropping from his hand. I grabbed my phone ready to run for the doors. I managed to make a few steps when he grabbed my leg. I started to fall down, hitting hard with my shoulder on the edge of the bed, making me scream in pain. The phone dropped from my hand as I hit the floor, rolling and stopping near the doors. I tried to get up, but he was still clenching at my foot. „Stop resisting, you can't escape it!“ he spat it at me, turning his head to look for the knife. When he turned back to me, I was ready with my free foot, hitting him hard at the head again. He wailed at another impact releasing his grip from me, wich was just enough for me to get up. I got woozy from the pain in my shoulder, but I pushed it aside. I grabbed the phone before opening and rushing through the doors, and I started running as fast as I could towards the woods. The pain in my shoulder intensified with every step I took, but I had to focus on getting as far away from the motel as possible. As I came near the woods, I opened the phone and for once I was greateful there wer only few contacts in my list. I quickly found Jakes name hitting the call icon, bringing the phone to my ear. Come on come on come on My mind was racing as I tried to focus where I was running and waited for him to answer. As his voice finaly sounded from the other side, I felt tears roll down my face. I don't know what he said to me, or even if he finished with it, I just bursted out „Jake, help!“

Jakes POV

„Here you go, Jessy, all done.“ I said turning the laptop to her. „Yay, thank you soooo much.“ She said cheerfully, immediately checking on her work stuff. Dan was still sitting quietly next to her, and I felt sorry for him. „Don't look so down, Dan.“ I said „If you want, I can check your laptop, too, see if I can do something about making it less shitty.“ His head shot up, and he grinned at me „Really, man? Thanks, that would be awesom!“ He said, starting to get up. I chuckled „No worries, but that will have to wait.“ I said, and his mood went down a bit again. „Oh, I see.“ He said, sitting back down. „Sorry, Dan, but I do have a date with a special girl.“ I said and smiled. As if on cue, my phone rang. „And I think she just got impatient with waiting on me.“ I took the phone answering the call. „Hey, angel, I'm just about to lea...“ but i didn't manage to finish. „Jake, help!“ Maya's voice came from the other side. I tensed „Maya, what's wrong?“ Dan and Jessy both shot me worried looks. „He's here...I ran..“ she said, and I barely managed to understand her. „Who's here? Maya, where are you?“ I asked her, a bad feeling starting to kick at me. „Woods...he's after me... Jake, hurry!“ she sounded so terrified, and it sounded like she was running. I shot up from the chair, Dan doing the same. „Maya, just hang in there, I'm coming.“ I said, already rushing to the doors. „I'll drive.“ I heard Dan behind me, and I just tossed him the car keys. „Maya, are you hurt?“ I asked, fearing her answer. „Yes, but I'll manage.“ She finaly said a full sentence, her breath panting. „It's Richy's dad, Jake. He's lost it, he blames me for everything.“ She said through tears and I cursed inside. Why the fuck did I leave her alone. „Please, Jake, just hurry, I'm scared.“ We wer already in the car driving towards the motel. I clenched my fist so hard, my knuckles turning white, rage swelling up in me. „I know, angel, but just hang in there a while longer, I'm almost there.“ I tried to make her calm down a bit but I knew my words won't really help her. „Keep moving if you can. And whatever happens, just don't loose the phone.“ „I'll try.“ She said „Just hur...“ And then silence. „Maya?“ I said, before moving my phone, seing that the call ended. „Fuck!“ I cursed out loud. I had no clue if she ended the call, or something happened. „Dan..“ „We're almost there, man.“ He said before I could finish. I was grateful Dan was with me, it gave me a chance to connect to Maya's phone. I was relieved when the connection went through, seeing the signal from her phone was on the move. But I had no knowledge of where the person that was chasing her was. I just hoped we'll get to her before he does.

Mayas POV

„You can't hide from me!“ I cursed inside, as the voice sounded somewhere from behind me, making me end the call with Jake. I started running again, slower then before with the pain in my shoulder getting worse. And it was almost completly dark now, so I had to focus hard not to fall. I took the phone, tucking it in the pocket of my hoodie, zipping it shut. It was my only hope for Jake to find me and I had no intention to accidentaly drop it while running. I had no clue what direction I was going, I just knew I had to keep on moving. I was getting more and more tired, when I suddenly ran out in the clear. It took me a moment to realize I ran all the way to the Blackwater lake. I dragged myself to the water, falling on my knees, splashing some cold water all over my face. I knew I shouldn't linger here for long, but I needed to catch my breath. It was getting hard for me to run. The adrenalin was fading me, and the pain became more sharp. Tears started to roll down my face again, from the pain or fear, it didn't matter. I just wished Jake would get here fast. As I sat by the water, I could feel my eyes getting heavier. I shook my head, splashing some more cold water on my face. All right, Maya, time to move on. I got up, and instantly felt dizzy. I steadied myself, taking a few deep breaths to shake off the dizziness. When I was sure I won't collaps I turned arround to move on. I made a step and froze in the spot. Paul was standing few steps from me, his head bloodied, the knife back in his hand. „No..“ I breathed it out barely audible, as a sinister smile returned to his face. „Why do you delay it, miss Cole?“ he said, coming slowly towards me. „I told you, you can't avoid the inevitable.“ Shit shit shit I knew my chances to run from him were small, but I had to try. I made my run to the left of him, but I was too slow. He grabbed me by my hair and tugged fiercely, making me scream. He pulled me to him, turning me to face him. At that moment, I thought I saw a flicker of light somewhere in the woods, but I was sure it was just my brain playing tricks on me. „Now, miss Cole“ he said to me, his eyes sparkling victorious „It is time I bid you farewell.“ His hand moved quickly, my eyes opening wide, as the blade of the knife pierced through me.

Jakes POV

Dan didn't stop at the motels parking, but continued driving, entering the woods with the car for as far as he could. I rushed out of the car before he even stopped, the flashlight on my phone already on. I heard him yelling after me, but I just ran. I had to get to her fast. I kept checking the phones screen as I ran. Damn it, why is the signal still? I started to run faster, Dan keep yelling from not far behind me. Almost there. Suddenly, a scream was heard from the direction we wer running to. I stopped abruptly, Dan almost knocking me as he caught up with me. „Was that...“ „Maya.“ I finished for him, and we both started to run again. We wer almost at the Blackwater lake, and I checked the phone again. The signal was still at the same spot, and I cursed inside again, fearing the worst. We burst out from the woods to the lake, and stopped at the scene in front of us. The man moved from Maya, and she looked directly at me, with wide eyes and tears all over her face, before falling to her knees and hitting the ground. „I told you, you can't save her, boy.“ The man turned to us, smug smile on his face. At that moment something snapped in me, and all went dark. Next thing I remember was Dan trying to pull me off the man. He was now on the ground, with me on top of him, his face all bloodied. „Man, stop it, you'll kill him!“ Dan was yelling at me, and I finaly snapped out of it. I blinked few times, before I got up, moving from the man. My hands wer covered in blood and shaking. „Go to her!“ Dan yelled at me, taking his phone and dialing some number. I looked confused at him first, until it got to my brain what he refered to. I quickly turned moving to the water, to wash some of the blood off, before turning to kneel next to Maya. I moved her slowly, and she coughed as I turned her towards me. She was shaking uncontrollably, but managed a small smile when she saw me. „I am sorry, angel, I wasn't fast enough.“ I said, moving the loose hair from her face. „Shhhhh..“ she said and coughed again. „You're....here now.“ I tensed at the sight of the knife sticking from her abdomen. Fuck fuck fuck She followed my gaze, and before I had a chance to react, she pulled the knife out, blood soaking her hoodie. „Dan!“ I yelled and he was next to us in a flash. „Give me your shirt.“ I said to him, taking my hoodie off. He took his shirt off , and I unzipped Maya's hoodie. She was half conscious by now, and panic started to rise in me. „Ambulance is on the way.“ Dan said to me, as he pressed his shirt to her wound. „I don't know if she can make it till they arrive.“ I said to him, pulling my hoodie under her, trying to tie it as firm as I could to stop the bleeding. „We don't have any other option, man.“ He said, but he was wrong. „Yes, we do.“ I said, and he looked questionable at me. I knew I might do more damage with my next action then good, but I sure as hell wasn't going to sit here waiting for them to arrive. I took her in my arms, getting up „At least we can meet them half way.“

Mayas POV

I felt Jakes hands lifting me off the ground before he started to run. I was in and out of conscious for a while, before I managed to stay awake. Every step he took sent so much pain through me, and I clenched my hand to his shirt. „Stop“ I said, my breath short, but he didnt hear me, he just continued forward. I was fighting so hard to keep my focus, not to let my eyes close again. My sight was getting blurred, as I stared at his worried face. „Jake....Jake, please...“ I barely managed, clenching at his shirt harder. He just kept running as fast as possible, without sparing me a glance. „Just stay with me, angel!“ His breath came out panting. I thought I heard Dan's voice saying something, but all my senses wer getting more dull. The pain was too much for me by now. I gathered what was left of the strenght in me, tugging at his shirt so hard and yelled „Jake, stop!“ He finaly looked at me, stopping abruptly, the look on his face terrified, as a streak of blood poured from my mouth. „No...“ he breathed it out, slowly lowering me down, resting my head on his lap. „No! Don't do this to me!“ He yelled, his voice cracking, his hand shakily caressing my face, moving the strands of hair from my eyes . Tears started to roll down his face. I wanted to get my hand up, to wipe them away . To tell him everything will be alright. But I just layed motionless, my eyes so heavy, blurriness mixing with darkness. „I lov...“ I started, but the rest of the words got stuck at my throath. „Maya!“ Jake yelled at me, but I couldnt fight it any more. I felt nothing. The pain was gone, shaking has stopped, I couldnt feel his warm touch anymore. Nothing. I closed my eyes, as one last smile came to my lips, breathing out the words I hoped I'll be able to say to him over and over again „Love you.“

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

Jake walked slowly, the lack of sleep showing on his face. Days went in haze for him, his heart aching more with each one passing. He knew the path well, he walked here so manny times before, he could do it with eyes closed. He turned after a short while, the path narrowing, before stopping. A tear rolled down his cheek, as he stared at the tomb stone in front of him. He knelt down, moving the dirt and leaves from the graves marble with his hand, before placing a single red rose on it. „Sorry I havent been arround much.“ He siad, leaning on his heels, wiping his face with the back of his hand . „Things have been crazy lately.“ He sighed „So much had happened, I dont even know where to begin.“ He just poured his soul out, his words carried away by a soft wind blows. He felt relieved after, aching at the heart softening a bit. He kissed his fingers, laying them gently on the surface of the grave before getting up „I promise I'll come more often.“ He stared silently at the tomb for a moment more. „I miss you.“ he said, as another tear rolled down his cheek. „Love you.“ Wiping the tear, he turned, slowly walking away.

#duskwood #duskwood fanfic #duskwood mc #duskwood jake #duskwood jessy #duskwood dan #duskwood jake x mc

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years ago

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Soulmate September - Day 13

Day 13 - Everyone is born with a super power, but when soulmates are together their powers are nullified by each other.

Pairing(s): Romantic Intrulogical, Romantic Moceit, Romantic Prinxiety (background), Familial Anxceit

TWs: swearing, one mention of puking [nothing detailed], innuendo, Remus being Remus

Logic reigned at night in Newmind City.

Okay, that may not be entirely correct; the quicker the time sluggishly dragged itself towards 6 am, the faster the brain cell count dwindled. Stupider and stupider decisions were made edging the lines of the illegal and bordering on the disastrous.

No, the Logic that owned the night came in the form of the superhero; Logic.

The hero had to admit, it wasn’t the most extravagant name out there, he’d heard many more creative and intimidating names; the Sandman, Sweet Psyche, the Tempest Tongue, all of them household names by now, whether hero or villain. Logic wasn’t exactly a name that struck hearts much outside of NewMind City, but within the alleyways and dive bars, criminals lived in fear of his watchful patrols.

Harnessing the power of Order and Stability made Logic a formidable opponent. The effect on his physical balance allowed him to fight on any surface - even hundreds of feet off of the ground - with almost zero chance of falling. The way he could manipulate any situation into the perfect rube goldberg machine to aid his crusade was terrifying given the right situations. Only one villain dared provoke Logic at every turn; Deceit.

The Lord of the Lies. A Self-Proclaimed Subterfuge Specialist.

Deceit seemed to live for one thing and one thing only; to destroy the city from the inside out. Logic would have admired the serpentine slanderer if not for his methods. Forcing politicians to spout the truth? Urging government officials to spill their true agendas against their will? Logic admired that kind of drive, but at the same time, this was a man who used lies as weapons. Deceit used them to hurt others whenever he so desired.

Stalking across the edge of the Talyn Street apartment block, the hero could hear a commotion in the distance; by the sounds of it, at least three men were involved and by the sound of it, things had gotten ugly in a hurry. Logic took off along the edges of the nearest buildings and-

Wait. Something didn’t feel right.

The closer he got to the commotion, the less balanced he felt on his own two feet. Had he somehow exhausted himself? Impossible. He’d faced rather a quiet night until now. His thoughts were distracted long enough that he nearly slid right off of the edge of the building overlooking the alleyway in question. The scene that unfolded set Logic’s blood to a boil.

Four men, not three. One held back by the largest thug in the group while the other two took turns brutalising the man, though he didn’t let out a single sound. Logic had to be careful; he couldn’t tell if his powers were acting up for sure, but just in case, he used the fire escape to stick to the shadows, to better observe the situation.

Despite the beating he was taking, the man being held back didn’t seem too worried. Logic found out exactly why when the man waited for the next brutal gut punch and used it to flip the larger man holding him onto his attacker. It was impressive to say the least. The final attacker still standing went to pull out a blade, evident by the flash of silver light that caught Logic’s eye, but thankfully, their victim was armed as well.

The way the man twirled the butterfly knife in his hand so effortlessly was hypnotic, borderline erotic if Logic were to be so bold. Focus. You have a job to do. He leapt down from the fire escape with only a few inches between him and the attacker’s back. Before the assailant could do anything, Logic drove his elbow into the man’s temple, knocking him unconscious. Checking that he hadn't actually killed him, Logic took his pulse with relief before looking up towards the victim,

“Are you unharmed-”

“That was so sexy.”, the man murmured.

“..... Come again?”

“Gimme a second.”

It took Logic that second and more to realise the innuendo. He annoyedly rolled his eyes and made sure his hair was neatly pushed back once again out of the way of his mask.

“Would you mind informing me of the situation, um..?”

“Remus.”, the man grinned.

Logic wasn’t sure whether the grin reminded him more of a gassy shark or a seasick crocodile, but either way, he began to wonder if Remus wasn’t entirely innocent in this situation…

“Remus.”, Logan repeated, “Actually, I’ll need to ask you to assist me in escorting these charming gentlemen to the station-”

“That won’t be necessary. You’re too tired to move.”

The silky, venomous voice pierced through Logic before he could react. Dammit, he hadn’t anticipated these thugs would be working for Deceit. His movements were sluggish and just as he watched Remus hit the ground, Logic too felt the rough kiss of gravel before he was out like a light…

When Logic awoke, he felt rather like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air; everything was flipped, turned upside down.

Startled, he noted the boiling oil below him - typical of the villain’s over the top style - and the power suppressing cuffs keeping his hands secured behind his back. On the floor just to the left of him, he could make out the goons from earlier sat playing cards while Remus was tied to a chair a couple of feet away. Logic was thankful to see Remus had no new injuries though he was still out cold. The man may be a wretch but the hero really didn’t want to see harm come to him.

“Ah, you’re finally awake, my dear nemesis.”

Deceit’s voice trickled from the speakers in the room, sickly smooth and deadly, like honey laced with poison. Logic knew not to listen to it consciously, he’d made that mistake once before and it’d nearly cost him his life. He instead focused on struggling to get out of the situation he was in, but with his hands cuffed using suppressor cuffs, he was fighting an uphill battle.

“Now, now, don’t exhaust yourself. I’ve been waiting for this day for a while now, I don’t want you too tired for the grand finale.”

The smugness dripping from every word even passively began to give Logic a headache. His attempts to escape were becoming more and more fruitless; the chain that held his legs in place also stopped him having his skin boiled right off the bone so being too unruly with them was out of the question. All he could do was hope that Remus would wake up and have some kind of ability that might help the both of them.

Come to think of it, why had his powers suddenly stopped working as he’d approached? Perhaps one of Deceit’s thugs had been in possession of something made to counteract his abilities? No, that didn’t seem likely. Knowing the smug villain, Logic knew there was no way Deceit would let his cronies take charge of something that powerful and impressive. He was wrenched from his thoughts as Deceit’s message continued,

“I hope you’re prepared to-”

He stopped. There was a sound akin to rustling and clattering before Deceit’s voice came once more. From the muffled volume and the conversation, Logic guessed the idiot had forgotten to turn off the microphone.

“Pat, dearest?”

Another voice, probably the aforementioned Pat, spoke sweetly in response,

“What, honey?“

“Where’s my villainous cape?”, came Deceit’s inquiry. Logic had to bite his tongue to refrain from laughing. Might as well enjoy the show while he thought of an escape plan.

“What???”, came Pat’s reply, a little closer now going by the acoustics.

“Where. Is. My. Villainous. Cape?!”

“Oh, I put it away!”

Logic was thoroughly enjoying the drama going down over the speakers, and so were Deceit’s henchmen who Logic spotted had stopped their rousing game of blackjack to instead get comfy and enjoy the show.

“Where did you put it?!”

“Why do you need to know, Jan!?”

Huh. This wasn’t how Logic figured he’d find out his arch nemesis’ name, but he wasn’t about to complain. What did strike urgency back into him was the progression of their conversation.

“Oh for the love of-! My plan to erase my nemesis is in danger!”

“Our EVENING is in danger!”, there was a soft sigh, “Look, Jan, we’ve had this reservation planned for months now! I’m gonna assume your nemesis is a little tied up at the moment,” , Logan rolled his eyes at such an awful pun, “So why don’t we just go enjoy our anniversary dinner and you can deal with him when you get back, alright?”

Horrifyingly, Deceit huffed a sigh, “I suppose it would be interesting to keep him suspended for a while, let the terror sink in. Good thinking, my love.” The sound of a light kiss and a chuckle could’ve made Logic lose his lunch. Or perhaps it was the idea of being held upside down for so long..

“Alright, Pat, if we hurry, parking shouldn’t be too awful...”

The intercom went quiet and now Logic could truly let the situation sink in; he’d have to remain suspended over boiling oil, watched by Deceit’s cronies, unable to save himself or-

Remus!

He’d almost forgotten about the odd gentleman. He turned to see him-

Oh, are you kidding me.

Remus was still out cold. How. How in the HELL could one man be asleep for so long?!

Logic didn’t like the idea, but he had little choice. Inhaling, he began to yell, “WAKE UP-” when something hard impacted his cheek. The blow sent his glasses hurtling onto the ground - thankfully missing the boiling oil at least - and breaking apart on impact. Dammit.

“Keep your mouth shut, Zero!”, one of the thugs chided, earning snickers from the other two and inciting them to join in on the jeering and insult hurling. Logic was just thankful that whatever had been thrown - he suspected a mug by the feel of it - must have been the single dispensable item at hand considering nothing else was thrown other than attempts at insults. The hero had no idea what was worse; the idea of dying from heart failure with the blood rushing to his head, or dying of sheer embarrassment knowing it’d happen while having to listen to these ignoramuses try to genuinely roast him.

Logic could already feel unconsciousness taking hold of him when the first thug began screaming. It took the last of his strength to turn towards the cacophonous cries of terror, but his vision was so blurred without his glasses, all Logic could see before he passed out were a pair of glowing green eyes and a whirlwind of obsidian tendrils.

When Logic awoke, the first thing he noticed was the cold breeze settling into his skin through his suit. Opening his eyes, the hero still couldn’t see clearly, but as he squinted, he began to make out stars and clouds. Shit, how long was he out?

“Wakey wakey, princess! You had me thinking you’d gone and died on me there!”, came Remus’ already unmistakable voice. Logic sat up, still reeling as he saw Remus approach him, getting clearer the closer he came until he was knelt down beside the hero.

“Here,”, Remus placed Logan’s broken glasses in his hand, “Sorry I couldn’t fix ‘em, it’s not exactly my expertise.”

Logic had so many questions already; how had they survived?! What had Remus done back at Deceit’s lair before he’d passed out?! Why did he still find it hard to use his powers even now he was free of the cuffs?! The hero frowned as his powers refused to work on his glasses. Remus - seemingly uncaring about Logic’s lack of a response - watched him attempt to work before he caught himself.

“Ah, wait. Lemme back up.”

The hero was confused as Remus backed away a good couple of feet from him on what Logic now recognised as the rooftop of the Crofter’s Hotel. He was about to ask for an explanation when he realised his powers were slowly coming back, reslotting the glass into the frames and straightening out the bridge and legs of the glasses. Order maintained once more, Logic donned the glasses, thankful for his vision stabilising.

“Thank you, Remus.”, Logic went to stand up, but he still felt lightheaded. Thankfully, Remus saved him from toppling over, catching him at the waist and helping him carefully sit back down.

“Careful, Specs. I don’t want my soulmate hurting himself-”

“Apologies, your what?!“

Logic was stunned to say the least; Remus had just thrown that out there like it was any old fact.

“Soulmate. Y’know, your cosmic companion, your destiny dictated darling, your fatemate!”, Remus listed excitedly, “You know all about it right? When you meet-”

“- your superpower is nullified around that person, yes, I am aware.”

Logic wasn’t sure what to think; he’d never paid much thought to his soulmate, in truth, he preferred to think of his work as his soulmate. Not that he didn’t like the idea of meeting the man the universe decided was his perfect match. Nor did Logic mind that the man was rather handsome in the mysterious cryptid kind of way. Logic gestured for Remus to sit with him and extended his hand to Remus for shaking,

“Logan Berrie.”, Logan offered, trying to settle back into his civilian mindset.

“Pie.”, Remus responded, low-fiving Logan’s hand.

“Pardon?”

“....We’re not playing a word association game?”

“.... I was providing you with my name, Remus.”

Remus grinned, “Wait, that’s your name?! That’s-”

“Ridiculous, I am well aware.”, Logan scowled, “I did go to school after all-”

“I was gonna say that’s awesome but whatever!”

Logan did poorly to hide his surprise as Remus laid back like he could fall asleep, “So Logan, how’d you fall in with ol’ Snake Face himself?”

Logan rolled his eyes, still propped up on his hands, “The same way all heroes are presented with their arch nemesis; he and I crossed paths and unfortunately, while we share some values, we have vastly differing opinions on how society’s problems should be fixed.”. He glanced over at Remus, fidgeting idly with the corner of the beat up long coat his soulmate wore.

“What was your transgression?”

Remus squinted at Logan for a second, “I’m cis.”

“... No. Transgression. What was it you did that made my nemesis target you? I noticed you addressed him by a rather flattering nickname earlier, so I assume you know of him personally.”

“Oooh.”, Remus grinned, snickering at just the memory of it, “I may or may not have pissed off his little brother.”

Well, that had Logan’s attention immediately. The hero lay on his side next to Remus, propping his head up on his hand, ready for the juicy details. He may have thought himself above gossip, but that didn’t mean Logan didn’t enjoy a good old tea party.

“How so?”

With a grin Logan was sure should’ve split his soulmate’s face in half, Remus proudly elaborated, “Well he and my twin brother were dating, and they had a bunch of friends and family all gathered for some bullshit, and my brother wants me to say something - a terrible decision, really - and I’m there kinda caught for what to say. So I’m having to think on the fly.”

“So, what did you do?”, Logan inquired, clearly getting sucked into the plot unfolding.

“I just said the first thing that popped into my head!”

Logan rolled his eyes once more, but there was a fondness to it this time. “Which was?”

Remus proudly cleared his throat, bringing a hand up to clasp an imaginary microphone, reciting perfectly from memory,

“To the seventeen people in this room that all wished they’d taken my brother’s virginity first, just remember this is the guy who got blackout drunk, cried because he couldn’t afford chicken nuggets, and scared a birthday party of kids when he puked up behind Chuck E Cheese’s back in college!”

The snort of laughter Logan let out was disgustingly ugly. He clapped his free hand over his mouth despite his giggling soulmate’s attempt to swat the hand away. Logan finally gathered himself,

“That’s amazing, oh my goodness.”

Remus excitedly beamed, “Ten tittied Christ, thank you!”

What a visual.

He continued to rant, “I knew it was funny! But nooooo! It was all “that's not an appropriate story, Remus”, or “How could you say that right now?!”! They were the ones who wanted me to ad lib a last minute speech! So what if I said it in front of hundreds of people at their wedding-?!”

Logan couldn’t help it, the bellowing laughter that tore out of him was too much to contain. When was the last time he’d laughed so heartily? Logan wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure when Remus joined in with his laughter, but by the time they were done, Logan had laid down next to his soulmate to stare up at the stars. Then a thought hit him,

“Wait, you said your brother and Deceit’s brother are married, correct? Making you and Deceit brother-in-laws? ”

Remus nodded, “Yep.”

“And you’re not on his side, but are-?”

“Nah,”, Remus predicted with a head shake, “Ditz-ney Prince and TT are both heroes, so there won’t be much of a problem with us being a thing. If that’s what you were worried about.”

Logan nodded, though his frown continued into his query, “Ditz-ney Prince and TT are… interesting hero names...”

Remus rolled his eyes as if it was obvious, “Nah, those are nicknames. My brother’s The Prince over in Sanders Town a couple miles out from here, and you probably know the Tempest Tongue-”

“I’m sorry, your brother is married to THE Tempest Tongue?!”, Logan interrupted, though he shot Remus an apologetic look for his outburst. His soulmate chuckled, “Sounds like someone’s a bit of a fanboy.”

“No, no,”, Logan assured him, frowning despite his obvious embarrassment, “Nothing so childish, I merely admire his work-”

“You think he’s hot-”

“I said no such thing-”

“You didn’t deny it either.”

Remus had him there. Logan punched him in the arm playfully and, as if to prove a point, shuffled closer until he was almost laying on Remus. There was a question on Logan’s mind still, and he finally verbalised it as his gaze fell back onto his soulmate,

“Might I ask, how did we escape? I hate to admit it, but I was passed out for the entirety of your rescue.”

“No shit, who do you think had to carry you?” Remus teased, “I just used my power, wanna see? It’s super fucked up-!”

“No. I mean, I would like to at some point, but I would rather we stay like this. For a little while.”

It felt like his cheeks were on fire, and the sweet smile Remus shot his way had Logan’s heart racing.

“Sure thing, Specs!”, he slid his hand along Logan’s arm and softly let it card through his dark hair, “And how about after we’re done here we go mess with Snake Face? ”

Logan grinned back at him; why shouldn’t they have a little fun after all?

“What did you have in mind?...”

-----

This was fun!

I haven’t written many hero fics before so I hope this is okay!

A big thanks to my friends in the discord for helping with this one when I had a writers block moment.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

#intrulogical #moceit #prinxiety #remus sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #remus #logan #janus #patton #soulmate september #im catching up i swear!#also just incase #emile is Sweet Pysche #and Remy is the Sandman

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suckmysupernatural · 4 years ago

Text

I Think You Are Beautiful

Word Count:~2100, one shot

Pairing: Jack Kline x Reader

Warnings: fluff, one mention of self injury, that’s about it?? swearing?

Summary: Meeting Jack Kline was not like anything you expected. After getting the call from Dean that they were heading back to the bunker, you expected some scary-ass monster. Instead, you saw the kindest eyes.

Jack was only four days old when he met you.

After Sam and Dean found Jack, they planned to take him back to the bunker. This made Dean uneasy, seeing as his younger sister lived with them. You were young, 22 to be exact, and didn’t have much experience in defending yourself. Going to college online, you majored in Library Science and planned to become a librarian. Whenever Sam and Dean needed some research done you were more than happy to pitch in, but that’s as close to hunting as you got.

As Sam and Jack made their way over to the Impala, Dean pulled out his phone. You were number 2 on his speed dial, after Sam and before Castiel.

“Hey, you guys alright? It has been days since you left to go meet up with Kelly and Cas.” you practically yell after picking up the phone within seconds of it ringing. You knew that they were going to try and get the Nephilim before Lucifer and the lack of an update so far has made you panicky.

“Y/N, I am so sorry we haven’t called. We will explain everything once we get back but I just wanted to let you know we are heading to the bunker now. We’ll be there by later tonight. That’s not why I called. I wanted to warn you that we have Jack and he is now a fully grown adult,” Dean said. Your eyebrows raised when you heard the last sentence.

“Wait what? When did Kelly give birth?” you ask. It felt like a stupid question but you had no clue what to ask.

“Four days ago. He was a full-size man in the blink of an eye and then just stopped growing. It is weird as hell but I guess we gotta roll with it. Honestly, Y/N, I don’t trust him. Sam seems to think that Jack is good or whatever but I don’t think so. He is Lucifer’s kid and crazy powerful. When we get back I want you to try and avoid him. Got it?” Dean instructed.

“Yeah, Dean. I got it.”

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

You were in the kitchen, cooking dinner for you and the boys. Cooking was something you enjoyed and it was somewhat meditative. Your focus, however, was quickly brought to the sound of the bunker door opening. If you were being honest with yourself, you were nervous to meet the Nephilim. You had no idea what he was like but you had to keep reminding yourself that Sam and Dean would never put you in harm’s way. Or at least, not purposefully.

Three pairs of footsteps filled the silence as the men made their way to the kitchen. You were almost finished with the meal when they entered. Standing in between your older brothers was a man who looked to be around your age. He was shorter than Sam and Dean, which honestly most people were. His face was one of innocence as he looked around the kitchen. Something told you that he wasn’t the monster you had expected.

“Jack, this is Y/N, our little sister. Y/N, this is Jack,” Sam introduced. It was clear he was more comfortable around Jack than Dean was. You could see the tension in Dean’s body, not letting himself relax like he usually did around the bunker.

“Hi, Jack,” you smile, “I hope you like pasta.”

“Hello,” Jack gave you a small smile and wave back, “I have never had pasta.”

“Oh,” you answer. It was tough to remind yourself that he was only a few days old and yet to experience most things. “Well, I guess we will see then. Sam, Dean, I’m almost done here. If you guys want you can wait in the library and I’ll bring everything out?” The boys nodded and ushered Jack to the library. This was your regular routine for when the brothers were present in the bunker. You liked to make this place feel like a home, a place where they could feel like a normal family. When the boys were off on a hunt you usually got take-out and sat in your bed to watch Netflix. It had been a routine that you enjoyed.

You filled up a bread bowl with pieces of garlic bread and put all of the pasta into a dish. You had also prepped a salad, which you knew Dean would avoid like the plague. Regardless, you liked to have a balanced meal. You brought the dishes out to the library, placing them into the center of the table. “Drinks?”

Sam and Dean both requested a beer, Jack following in their lead. It was obvious he looked to them both, especially Dean, to know how to act. It brought a small smile to your face. You nodded, grabbing the drinks as well as plates and utensils before settling down at the table. Dean sat next to you while Jack and Sam were seated across the table. The four of you served yourselves, piling food onto the plates.

“Wow! Pasta is good!” Jack exclaimed after the first bite and you couldn’t help but smile widely.

“I’m glad you like it, Jack,” you tell him. He looked at you and for a second just stared. It wasn’t uncomfortable or creepy, more like he was just taking in the sight. It almost made you blush but he turned back to his food before that happened. The four of you made small talk, well mostly just you and the brothers. Jack was, for the most part, observing the mannerisms of the Winchesters.

While the three of you shared similarities, Jack noticed the differences between each of you. Dean was tough and always slightly on edge. Jack guessed that hunting had made him hard, ready for whatever obstacle was thrown his way. Some might see Dean as mean, but Jack saw someone who was strong. It was obvious that his siblings meant the world to him.

Sam was softer than Dean but still a warrior. He had a kindness to him that made Jack feel comfortable in his presence. Sam let Jack be who he was, not trying to make him grow up or act a certain way. It was a nice contrast from the eldest brother who every so often looked at Jack like a monster. No, Sam was nice. There were many things that Jack didn’t understand yet and Sam was always patient with him, explaining the complexities of life.

Then there was Y/N. Jack had only known her for a few hours but was fascinated by her. Other than his mother, she was the first woman that he had more than a minute’s interaction with. Jack didn’t understand why, but all he knew was that he wanted to be near her. She had the warmest smile that was contagious. Y/N had barely spoken to him but Jack was already addicted to the sound of her voice. He wanted to hear you explain the world to him.

The conversation had slightly died down as everyone continued to eat when Jack broke the silence.

“Y/N?” Jack asked, looking across the table at you. You gave him another one of your warm smiles.

“Yes, Jack?” you reply.

“I think you are beautiful,” he said simply. Your smile widened even further, a blush quickly appearing on your cheeks. Sam’s eyes widened slightly in amusement while Dean choked on the beer he was drinking. None of you had expected that.

“Why thank you, Jack,” you told him. It was a heartfelt compliment, as Jack didn’t yet know that people lied about these things. He was still like a child, speaking honestly without fear of embarrassment. You were flattered, while Dean on the other hand was not happy.

“Nope. I don’t like this, I don’t trust you! And I sure as hell don’t want you flirting with my baby sister,” Dean snapped. Jack looked at him in confusion.

“Flirting?” Jack asked. It was obvious that he wasn’t aware of the concept. Before Dean had a chance to continue chewing him out, you interrupted.

“Flirting is when you talk in a way that shows you are attracted to someone. That you want to be more than a friend with that person,” you explained. Jack looked over to Dean, sinking into his seat once he saw the glare that the man was giving him. You gave Dean a quick glare of your own before looking back to Jack. “Don’t worry Jack. You didn’t do anything wrong. Dean is just protective of me but I am an adult. If I was uncomfortable I would tell you.”

“Okay,” Jack nodded at your words. He was glad that he didn’t upset you. Jack wasn’t aware that his words could make you uncomfortable. He also couldn’t help but reprimand himself for making Dean mad yet again. All he wanted was for Dean to like him and know that he wasn’t bad. Well, Jack hoped that he wasn’t bad.

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

Once dinner was over, Sam and Dean took Jack to show him his room while you went to take a shower. You were happy with how the night had gone. It didn’t take long for Dean to calm down after Jack’s compliment and the tension eased.

You took your shower, wrapping a towel around yourself before going to walk back to your room. The bunker was silent as you exited the bathroom, the brothers having gone to their rooms after showing Jack his. You padded your way back to your room, bare feet on the cool concrete. Just as you were about to open your bedroom door, you heard a strange noise coming from down the hall. You quickly and quietly got into your room, throwing on sweats and a tank top before grabbing your gun off of the nightstand. It was moments like this that you were thankful for the many, many gun lessons that Dean had forced you to attend.

Tiptoeing down the fall, still barefoot, you saw the door to Jack’s new room slightly open. You put your hand flat on it, pushing it open slowly. What you saw made your eyes widen in shock. There was Jack, his back to you, stabbing himself over and over again with a kitchen knife.

“Jack?” you said softly as not to startle the boy. You put your hand on his shoulder and he turned to face you, his face clearly upset. “What are you doing?” Jack pulled the knife from his chest, looking down at the blood-covered weapon.

“What am I?” Jack asked. You walked to stand in front of him and saw that his shirt was ripped and covered in blood, but his skin had completely healed. Jack’s eyes were filled with unshed tears as he looked at you.

“You are special, Jack, and that isn’t a bad thing. Why would you do this to yourself?” you were worried about him.

“I… I can’t die. I won’t die. What if Dean’s right? What if I am just like my father?” Jack’s voice wavered as he asked you the heartbreaking questions. You put your hand on top of his, slowly taking the knife from his grasp. You placed it down on the table behind you before turning back to the Nephilim. You put your hands on his face, forcing him to look right into your eyes.

“You are nothing like your father Jack. Dean is wrong and I know he is. You are not evil or bad or wrong. You don’t have to follow in anyone’s footsteps. Not Lucifer’s, not Dean’s, and not Sam’s. You get to choose your path, whatever it may be,” your voice was strong, wanting to get the information to sink in. Jack looked at you, the sadness in his eyes slowly dissipating.

“You truly think that?” Jack whispered.

“Yes, Jack. Let me ask you this, what kind of person do you want to be?”

“I want to be good. I want to help people. I… I want to be someone that you and Sam and Dean could be proud of,” Jack nodded to himself.

“Well, Jack,” you give him a soft smile, “I think that is quite doable. Now, no more hurting yourself, alright? The first person you can help is yourself. Okay?” Jack nodded, this time to you.

“Okay.”

“Jack, I am here for you. Anything you need.”

“Um… can I have a hug?” Jack asked. He had never had a real hug before but somehow knew that it would comfort him. You took your hands off of his cheeks, wrapping your wrists behind his neck and pulling him into you. Jack let his head rest on your shoulder, his arms raising to go around your waist. The two of you stood like that for a long time, just holding one another.

Jack was new to life and didn’t know many things, but he knew one thing. That he had never felt better than when he was in your arms.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

Smalltown Bringdown 2

Warnings: blood, violence, more to be added.

This is dark!biker!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You begin your search for a new job but times are tough.

Note: Here’s part two. I’m planning on making this a relatively short series, think Eye for an Eye. I’m having fun with Biker!Bucky and next chapter should be🔥 To those who take the time to read, thank you. Love you guys!

Please, leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The Birch Branch Bakery was just across the street from the Chipped Saucer. The old plaque beside the door read 'Est. 1887'. It had passed hands from one Hollorin to the next. Barbara, or Babs, Hollorin was the latest in the line of plump delicatessens. She had her father's rosy cheeks and boomong laugh. You faintly remembered the round old man from your childhood though he had long passed.

Babs smiled as you entered. She was rarely anything but cheery, certain to offer any child a sample of her famous chocolate mousse. You slid your resume across the counter and she offered you a taste. You passed.

"It's a long shot, I know," You said. "But Jimmy's clearing house… well really, just tossing out an old lamp."

"Oh, hon, you know I usually just hire students. I can’t offer many hours. No tips either."

"I know," You shrugged. "But I could find something else to fill in the blanks."

"I'll think about it, okay, sweets?" She took your resume from the counter.

"Thanks," You paused before the glass display. "Could I get a slice of lemon meringue? You know mom would kill me if I left without grabbing her a piece."

“Of course, dear.” Babs smiled and took the pie out from the stand.

She set a slice carefully in a box and tied a bow around it with string; the usual fare. You took it with a smile and thank you.

The door rang as you stepped out onto the street. Your last stop was the used bookshop/hobby store, Lloyd’s. You pushed inside as you balanced the box in one hand and greeted the old man sat behind the counter. Lucius was half off his stool as he bent over the model plane and carefully dobbed some clue along its body. His hair was streaked grey and black and lines betrayed a smile even when he was grimacing at a particularly tedious project.

“Hey, Lu,” You greeted as he looked up through his narrow glasses. “Just figured I’d drop by…” You neared and held the box against your hip and rested your folder on it. “Hand in a resume for good measure. I know, I know, not much going around but--”

“You not at the Saucer anymore?” He finished securing the wing and sat up with a groan.

“Not since a few days ago.” You slipped out a page and carefully placed it beside the toy plane. “We’ll see if I’m in the government’s lap by the end of the month, though.”

“Oh, dear, that’s terrible,” He took your resume and held it out as he tried to focus through his lenses, “That Jimmy’s a real slimy one. I’ll spare you my true thoughts, out of courtesy.”

“I’ll say it myself. He’s a bastard,” You added. “You know I never mind your language, Lu.”

“Certainly your mother didn’t like me teaching you all those pretty words,” He chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.” He turned and set the paper down behind him on the shelf of unsorted books. “Might not be full hours but I could use a hand or two. Let me have a look at the books and I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks,” You said. “Mind if I have a look before I go.”

“By all means,” He grabbed his tube of glue, “You always were my best customer.”

You nodded and headed back to your favourite section. He always had the most eclectic collection of biographies. A man in love with cinema, he’d given you a copy of Lena Horne’s memoir and stoked your own love for the past. Nestled in this shop was a peculiar array of nostalgia. A time you never knew but felt like your own. A childhood spent in the golden era with Astaire and Hayworth.

After a moment perusing, you chose a book on Tallulah Bankhead and headed for the counter. Lucius made no move to quit his gluing. You waved the book at him as you kept the folder and box under your other arm.

“On the house, dear,” He looked up briefly. “Your out a job and poor Tallulah’s been on that shelf for years. You give her a nice home. She’ll keep you good company.”

“Thanks,” You smiled and slid the book under the box as you adjusted your grip and moved your load in front of your stomach. “I’ll be back next week, Lu.”

“You will. I wanna know what you think of it.” He said. “She’s a special one.”

“Alright,” You chuckled and headed for the door. He cursed under his breath as he continued to fiddle with the model.

You found yourself back on the main street. The old clock tower struck one in the afternoon and you headed towards the library. A black speck caught in the corner of your eye; the same which had drawn you several times that day. It was as if the town’s spectre was following you on your tour. You carried on and ducked into the small alcove between the suit shop and the pawn broker’s. You heard Lloyd’s door open and close.

You waited, five, maybe ten minutes, until you heard it again. The same footfalls that had echoed your own. That you had shrugged off as an effect of the small town. It was easy to feel followed in a place like this. It was hard not to cross paths with the same person several times over. The soles scuffed over the sidewalk as they trailed your former steps and the shadow in leather passed you by. You emerged from the alley and huffed.

“There a reason you’re following me?” You asked.

Bucky stopped and chuckled as he pushed his shoulders back. He turned slowly, a smile on his face. “Am I?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice earlier.” You growled. “Now, you don’t seem like you’re in need of employment and you’re not exactly the social butterfly of Birch.”

“I’m not?” He wondered. “People talk to me freely enough.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing? Talking?” You challenged.

“Well, I don’t get a chance to explore the town much,” He shrugged.

“And who would ever want to do that? You live here a week and you can retrace the map in your sleep,” You narrowed your eyes. “You still haven’t told me why you’re following me.”

“Can’t say that I am,” He stepped closer as he stared at the folder atop the small box in your arms. “How is the job hunt going anyway?”

Your nostrils flared but you didn’t answer. You could only watch as he opened the folder and slipped a copy of your resume free. He made a show of reading it before folding it and slipping it inside his jacket.

“Offer stands.” He said.

“Answer too,” You assured him. “If you’re so curious, I’m just now going to see my mother at the library. Save you the trouble of following me… you don’t seem the reading type.”

He grinned and tucked his hands in his pockets. “The pie will be a nice surprise,” He turned to let you through “Unfortunately, I do have to get back.”

“Mmmhmm,” You grumbled and slowly edged by him.

You felt his gaze on you as you passed him. The heat of it lingered as you continued down the sidewalk. You didn’t dare to look back. You knew he was watching you. The eerie sensation did not relent until you shielded yourself beyond the library doors.

💀

You waited three days before you followed up. Things moved slow in a small town but not everything. Change was stark, too. As you stepped inside the same doors as days before, you found your welcome not so warm. The tea shop, also a cafe, was the first on your agenda. Doris smiled and took your order but was evasive when you asked after your resume. It was much the same at each stop you made. A hollow weight settled in your chest.

Babs was her usual jovial self but paled as you asked if she had even part-time hours for you. She shook her head and muttered about low sales in a small town and all those other excuses. You frowned but accepted the rejection. You bought a half-dozen macadamia cookies and headed out. At Lloyd’s, you found Lucius amid several stacks of book as he raised his brows at the titles.

“Lu,” You greeted. “Hey.”

“You finished that book already?” He asked without looking away.

“Halfway there,” You said. “I was just… checking in.”

“Mmm,” He set a book in one of the neater stacks. “Yes, I supposed you’d be by sooner than later.”

You stepped into the middle of the mess and glanced around. He was sorting by author and genre. No doubt a new haul from a resident clearing their shelves. You took a book and placed it in its respective stack. He paused and looked at you.

“My girl,” He began hesitantly.

“I know, you got nothing for me,” You nodded. “Just like everyone else. It’s okay.”

“Well, that’s not what I was gonna say at all,” He reproached. “I don’t care what that goon says, I could use someone on Sundays and you’ll get a few hours Mondays and Tuesdays. Not much, I know, but I gather it could help.”

“Oh, Lu,” You smiled and squeezed his arm. “So… he… what did he say to you?”

“Some nonsense about books being flammable, like I don’t know,” He scoffed. “I got insurance on this place. My granddaddy was no fool when he opened this place. He wants to burn it down, he can go right ahead. My payout will cover fresh paperbacks and the newest gadgets. He’d be doing me a favour, really.”

“You don’t have to--”

“I seen it before. As young as you are, I know you have too.” He continued sorting as he spoke. “You should’ve never pulled that knife but were I a younger man and there, I might’ve done the same.”

“Trust me, I know it was stupid,” You uttered. “Especially now but… Artie’s heart was about to burst.”

“Artie’s been on the edge of a heart attack for six years. I’m surprised those brutes didn’t push him over it,” Lu shook his head. “You got a place here, dear. Maybe look for something online. I don’t know much, just enough to order stock, but I’m sure you could find something. Town like this and a man like him, you won’t.”

“Thanks,” You set another sci-fi novel in a pile. “I appreciate it, really.”

“I know it’s not much,” He frowned.

“No, no, I’ll make do,” You assured him. “But Lu…”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t go getting yourself hurt over me.”

“I’m an old man.” He winked at you and grabbed another book, “I’ll do whatever I want.”

💀

You stopped in front of your mother’s house. You were tempted to kick over the metal beast that greeted you. It wasn’t hard to guess at its owner. You held your key up and admired it. A nice long scratch along the gas tank? Maybe a tear in the leather seat? You weren’t that stupid.

You took your usual detour to the back. Ash was sitting at the back door, growling. He perked up when you came through the gate but didn’t move. He let you pet him but you kept him outside as you slipped inside. You listened as you kicked off your shoes to the voices in the kitchen.

“That’ll be her,” Your mother said. She was friendly enough but you sensed the tension in her voice. “You need sugar?”

“No, black is fine,” Bucky answered and the hairs stood on your neck.

You walked into the kitchen and ignored the man at the table as you crossed to your mother. She filled a mug with coffee as you set down the box of cookies.

“Mom,” You greeted her with a smile and turned to the unexpected and unwanted visitor with arms crossed. “What do you want?”

“Hon, be nice,” Your mother poked you as she picked up the cup. “He just came here to talk.”

“Here,” You turned and took the mug from her. “You guys done talking then?”

“Not with me,” She said quietly and whispered as she turned her back to him. “Don’t go starting more trouble.”

You brushed past her and went to the table. You set the mug down and slid it across to him. “Fine. Talk.”

“You know, Mel, I think I’ll take some milk,” He said over your head.

You rolled your eyes as the fridge opened and closed. Your mother placed the carton of milk beside him with a small spoon and retreated.

“Now,” He poured the milk and stirred his coffee slowly. “I just wanted to see how the job hunt was going.”

“I think you know.” You sneered. “Mom, can you excuse us for a minute?”

“I don’t--” She began but stopped. “I’ll go check on Ash.”

You waited for her to leave. You folded your hands on the table and glared at Bucky.

“How dare you come into my mother’s house like this.” You snapped. “You think you’re scaring me?”

“If I wanted to scare you, you wouldn’t have walked into such a peaceable scene,” He returned evenly. “I don’t do half-measures.”

“Don’t you threaten her,” You retorted. “You can hound me but I will not have you going after her.”

“I haven’t done anything.” He smirked. “Really, you are paranoid. I have offered you a job and I have even offered my personal reference to your prospective employers.”

“Bullshit,” You said. “I know what you’re doing. I told you, I’m not interested. I got a job.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Where’s that?”

“None of your business,” You snarled. “Now thank you for the offer but I will again politely decline it. Thank you.”

“How much?” He asked.

“What?”

“How much is he paying you? I know it’s that grumpy old man with his books,” He scoffed. “Twelve hours a week. You think you can survive on that?”

“I think I told you no three times and I’m not gonna say it again.” You said.

“Sixteen an hour plus tips,” He took a drink of coffee. “People are generous when they drink.”

“Not interested.” You said through your teeth.

“Eighteen,” He countered. “Benefits too. You think Lucy gets her kids to the dentist for free.” You repeated yourself and he chuckled as he ran his fingertips along the stubble that lined his jaw. “Twenty.”

“You almost done your coffee?” You asked.

“You were a lot quieter in school,” He mused. “Didn’t realize you were so damn stubborn.”

“You need a waitress and you offering money like that, you can just head down to the Saucer and shout it out. They’ll be snapping at you.” You said.

His lips curled and he gripped the edge of the table. He took another gulp of coffee and cleared his throat. “I don’t know if you’re that oblivious or you’re playing with me.”

You were quiet. You stared at him dumbly. Heat crawled up your spine.

“I don’t want a waitress. I want you.” His jaw squared and his eyes sparked. “And while it was cute to see you holding that knife to my man’s throat, I can’t have you running around kicking dirt in my face.”

You swallowed and kept your expression staunch. “Not interested.” You enunciated the words carefully.

He clicked his tongue and tilted his head. He laughed darkly to himself and finished his coffee. His chair scraped loudly as he stood and took his coat off the back of it. He pulled the leather on as his eyes met yours.

“You just remember what happened to your daddy.” He intoned.

“I don’t remember him at all,” You said through the twinge in your chest. “Your club made sure of that, didn’t they?”

He growled and rounded the table. You looked up at him as his fingertips glossed over the tabletop. He leaned down until his lips nearly touched your cheek.

“You’ll remember your ma, though.” Your hand shot up and he recoiled, quick to catch it. He smiled as he squeezed your wrist. “You think about my offer one last time.” He said slowly. “You can come get your apron on Monday… or I’ll be dropping by on Tuesday.”

He stood straight and released you. He smoothed his leather jacket and strolled through to the back hallway. The door opened and you heard your mother’s surprised greeting and Bucky’s sickly farewell. Your mouth was dry and your heart raced as if you had just run a mile.

You stared at the old oval frame between the windows. Your mother under the arm of a man who shouldn’t have been a stranger. A man who you seemingly took after. Who, despite his absence, could teach you an important lesson; know when to stop pushing your luck.

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