#no idea why bc…we never shook hands or idk I just had an urge to do it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Not Bad

Prompts: Hihi, i have a Merlin prompt if you're interested. Merlin thinks he's a bad person bec he was taught that magic is bad, but also Bec of all the stuff he did/does to keep Arthur safe and ig throw in some touch starved!Merlin too for fun. But the knights compliment/hug/etc all the time and Merlin just doesn't understand what he's supposed to do with this, so the solution is to breakdown crying and try to convince the knights he's the bad person he sees himself as and the knights are just like "but you're wrong and he's 25 reasons why you're wrong" Plz, thx, love your writing - anon

im a fuckin sucker for soft knights & arthur w merlin so, if ur still takings reqs, i would love to see when the knights realize merlin still views himself as a "monster" like is hinted in first ep (? i thinkk, im rusty on my merlin trivia)- is it a passing comment he makes and they realize all together? knight cuddle pile? just give the poor boy some love - anon

if you'd want to write it i'd love to see the collective moment that the knights realize that merlin is self-harming in some way (in my brain this is probably in like a denial-of-things type thing that he probably doesn't even see as self-harm bc he's an idiot, could even be something like healing everyone else w magic but refusing to heal himself... idk feel free to do whatever you see fit!). i can only imagine they'd be frustrated with him and themselves but theyre just loving large idiots (': - anon

ahh yes all the prompts

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: implied/referenced self-harm in the form of intentionally depriving oneself of physical contact because THAT COUNTS

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic I don't care

Word Count: 3462

Arthur is confused, very upset, and nothing is alright anymore, thank you very much.

Because you see, despite the image that he tries to present—emphasis on the word ‘try’, there, according to his knights—he does care an awful lot about his people, especially his one particular person that happens to be able to say an awful lot without saying anything.

Merlin. He’s talking about Merlin, in case you hadn’t noticed.

The problem is that for all the man can ramble on about seemingly anything, at any time, he’s remarkably good at saying absolutely nothing about himself. He claims he’s an open book, but he’s certainly in a language that Arthur doesn’t know how to read.

He does know how to read, just to clarify. That isn’t the issue here.

No, no, the issue is that after months, years, almost a decade of Merlin by his side, watching his back, taking care of him, he’s discovered that there’s a secret that Merlin’s keeping from him. One he never intended to tell Arthur.

And before you panic, no, he’s not talking about Merlin’s magic.

Come on, it’s not like it’s not obvious, the man isn’t exactly good at hiding it. Does he seriously believe Arthur can’t see the tree branches that miraculously pick themselves up and fly at the nearest bandit or the spears that fling themselves at the foe about to behind Gwaine? Or the chores that mysteriously get done too fast for Merlin and far too efficiently? Or the way certain magical ailments seem to vanish mysteriously along with his idiot of a servant only to be greeted with a soft shrug when he pokes?

Merlin’s eyes also turn gold, that’s pretty neat.

So Merlin has magic.

Yes, we know, we had a small tantrum over the fact that he told Lancelot first, but it’s fine. Quite frankly, a lot of things make more sense now.

Except for this. Not this.

Merlin is hiding the secret that he believes he’s a bad person.

Now, Arthur’s not sure if you’ve met Merlin, but the man isn’t exactly the image of the evildoer that springs to mind when someone says ‘bad person.’

The Witch Finder, now there’s a bad person. Storming into Camelot, preying on the fear of the people, bribing and threatening and drugging people, torturing them, and condemning them to death just for the sake of a few coins.

Merlin did storm into Camelot, that is true, but he decided to pick a fight with the crown prince and then save his life. He’s not here for coin—if he were, they wouldn’t have had that small, er, issue about the steward not paying him anything for his work for the past eight years, honestly—and he’s certainly not preying on anyone’s fears. Except perhaps Arthur’s fear of losing his dignity.

The look on his father’s face when Merlin dodged the pillow…

Speaking of his father…there’s another one.

His father did not prey as openly on the people’s fear—or as obviously as Aredian, but prey on them he did. He was a strong king, sometimes too strong. He was a blind king, saw the people as nothing more than subjects, not the living breathing humans they are. He remembers Morgana’s voice, saying that authority should derive from the consent of the governed, not from the threat of force.

He always wanted to see Uther’s face when his ward—when his daughter said that to him.

And what he’s done to Morgana…

Arthur grimaces and shakes his head. Perhaps the very truth that he resents the idea of thinking about what Uther did to Morgana, to him…perhaps that is enough.

Those are bad people. At least to Arthur.

Merlin, on the other hand…

Merlin came into Camelot, knowing that if it was discovered that he has magic, he would be burnt at the stake. He came, not with any aspirations of glory, simply because he trusted his mother when she told him to come to Gaius. He came and he was given a job he never asked for, one he had no idea how to do, and stayed.

Merlin learned. Slowly, perhaps, but he learned. Now he has enough knowledge on what a servant should do to break the rules in the most spectacular fashion. Arthur smiles, biting back the chuckle at seeing George dressed up like Merlin and acting perfectly proper and the urge Arthur had to throw him out of the room.

And that’s not even mentioning what he does when he’s not following Arthur around.

Merlin learned. Merlin stayed.

Not just for Gaius, but for Arthur.

Arthur leans onto his desk, staring out into the courtyard where Merlin is tending to the knights’ horses as they mount up for patrol. He watches Leon step a little closer, lowering his head to mutter something to him, watching Gwaine clap Merlin on the shoulder.

Watches Merlin flinch a little too hard.

Watches Leon’s brow furrow and Gwaine take a step back.

This. This is the problem.

Merlin believes he’s a bad person. Which is wrong, but for some reason, he does.

And because Merlin believes he’s a bad person, he believes that anytime one of the knights touches him—or anyone touches him—it will be to hurt him.

How did they come to this conclusion, you may ask?

Arthur bites back a snarl as he turns away from the window.

It had started with the complements.

Gwaine, to no one’s surprise, was quite fond of flirting with anyone and everyone that would let him, Merlin no exception. Talking about Merlin’s looks, his personality, his work ethic, anything, and everything. Merlin would flush, bright red, ears and all, mumbling to himself.

But then Percival had said something and Merlin pushed him away—well, prodded his arm, no one really moves Percival without Percival letting them—and shook his head. Percival had shrugged but the rest of them had noticed the tension in Merlin’s shoulders.

Then Elyan complemented Merlin’s tracking abilities and Merlin hadn’t even acknowledged it, instead insisting that they keep moving before it got too dark to see and they’d be forced to make camp in the woods. They’d agreed, pressing on, but noting the way that Merlin refused to say so much as thank you.

Leon’s perceptiveness should be considered magical. Seriously, Arthur’s not entirely convinced the man can’t see into people’s heads, what with the information he’s able to produce out of nothing more than the twitch of a finger or the slightest huff of breath. But he sees the way Merlin shies away from any display of affection, even as he gently repeats it, watching Merlin turn his back and get back to work.

Arthur never saw what happened with Lancelot. All he knows is that one night, out in the woods, the two of them had gone off to collect firewood and Merlin had been hiding red-rimmed eyes when he returned, a few paces ahead of Lancelot, not ten minutes later. Arthur had glared but the forlorn confusion on Lancelot’s face had given him pause.

Then it was the touching.

One would expect Merlin to be a quite tactile person, and he is. He’s all shoulder nudges and pokes and prods and gentle shoves to get people to move where he wants them to go. And it’s not like the man has much concept of personal space.

No, some of that is not Arthur’s fault, how dare you?

But when someone else tries it, Merlin tenses reflexively, already moving before their hands make contact. He gives everyone he can a wide berth, scuttling around the outside of rooms until one of them breaks and tells him to come here, Merlin, it’s alright, we won’t hurt you. His face never quite believes them.

The strangest thing is how much of it Merlin makes small adjustments for.

He always wears those god-awful tunics, that he won’t let Arthur replace with fabric that doesn’t feel like it’s a burlap sack, with the sleeves pulled all the way down and those kerchiefs tied around his neck. Arthur’s seen his sleeves rolled up before, but only when Merlin’s working and he hasn’t realized Arthur’s there yet. It’s not like Arthur doesn’t know Merlin has forearms, but Merlin will always jump and guiltily roll his sleeves down.

He doesn’t notice why until he accidentally brushes Merlin’s bare skin once and Merlin all but tears away like he’s been burned.

He doesn’t know why.

Merlin has a secret. The secret is that he believes he’s a bad person. That means he can’t accept compliments and he can’t let them touch him.

This is a problem, because Arthur would very much like for Merlin to believe that he isn’t a bad person.

This is also a problem because Arthur has no idea how to do that.

He looks up when there’s a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

“Sire?” Leon steps through. “May we come in?”

Arthur nods, his eyebrows raising as all of his knights spill into the room.

“Shall I assume you’re on the warpath again?”

“Nah,” Gwaine grumbles, throwing himself into a chair, “know this isn’t your fault.”

Leon shakes his head. “It’s Merlin, sire, we’re…concerned.”

Arthur just sighs and tells them what’s been buzzing around his head for the past…however long it’s been. The knights nod.

“He doesn’t like to be touched when he doesn’t expect it,” Lancelot offers, “but when I ask…he doesn’t seem to want to agree either.”

“But he does,” Gwaine argues, “you’ve seen the way he stares at us when we hug each other, he looks like a poor child that’s never had a hug in his life!”

“Which isn’t true.” Elyan folds his arms. “Gwen’s hugged him.”

“We’ve all hugged him.”

“But he still thinks we’re going to hurt him.”

“Well,” Arthur mutters, “we can’t exactly blame him for being paranoid, can we?”

“If you lot are going to talk about me behind my back like it’s a war council, then yeah, I reserve the right to be paranoid.”

“Merlin!”

“Thank god, where’ve you been?”

“I thought we were meeting by the stables.”

“Did you get hurt?”

Merlin raises his hands and takes a step back. “Whoa, can I get through the door first before the interrogation starts?”

“This isn’t an interrogation,” Arthur says, glaring at the knights, “we’re concerned.”

“Uh-huh,” Merlin mutters, weaving through them to the table so he can set down the thing hooked over his arm, “yes, I’m all too familiar with your concern.”

Arthur frowns. “What does that mean?”

Merlin waves a hand. “Oh, just that it’s a prelude to more chores and things to do.”

Is that…true?

“Yes.”

Did he say that out loud?

“Also yes.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Merlin, we’re not coming up with lists and lists for chores for you to do.”

“Really? With how many you all constantly give me, here I finally thought I’d cracked the code as to why.”

Leon steps forward. “We’re not coming up with things to give you, Merlin, nor are we intending to gossip behind your back.”

“So what are you doing?”

“We’re worried,” Lancelot repeats, “about you.”

“Well, I’m right as rain, no need to worry.”

“Lie.”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he stares at Leon. The knight smiles ruefully and takes another little step forward.

“Lie,” he repeats gently, “you don’t have to lie to us, Merlin.”

Merlin’s mouth thins. “Maybe I don’t want to tell you, then.”

“Why not—“

“No,” Arthur breaks in, causing Merlin to swing his head around again, “no, if Merlin doesn’t want to tell us he doesn’t have to.”

Gwaine looks on the verge of protest, but another look from Lancelot is enough to quell him. He sinks into the chair and tosses an apple to Merlin.

“At least eat something,” he says by way of explanation, “you’ve not eaten anything since lunch.”

Merlin looks very confused—good, now he’s just like the rest of them—but bites into the apple nonetheless. His gaze travels around the room before coming to rest on Leon.

“Why are you all concerned?”

“Because you won’t let us complement you, Merlin,” Leon says softly, “you believe that every time we touch you we intend to hurt you, and you believe that this is deserved because you are a bad person.”

The flabbergasted look on Merlin’s face is almost enough to make Arthur laugh. Almost.

“How…”

“We notice things, Merlin,” Leon says patiently, “we notice you.”

Lancelot snorts. “Good going, mate, you’ll freak him out.”

“Um—there’s nothing worth noticing about me—“

“Not we all know that’s not true,” Gwaine says, and if it had been any other time it would’ve sounded like the next pick-up line at the tavern, “you’re worth noticing, Merlin.”

Merlin’s gaze darts back and forth, finding no disagreement in any faces.

“What—what were you concerned about?”

“Aside from what we just told you?”

“But I don’t—why is that a problem?”

Arthur swallows a curse. “Are you asking why we’re upset that you believe you’re a bad person and you deserve to be treated badly?”

“…yes?”

“Because you’re not a bad person,” Elyan says, “and you don’t deserve to feel like everyone’s about to hurt you.”

Gods, the look of disbelief on Merlin’s face hurts.

“You don’t know that,” he says lowly, setting the apple down, “you don’t know that.”

“Sure we do.” Elyan uncrosses his arms. “We know you, Merlin.”

“I don’t think you do.”

A look passes around the group of knights. Elyan smiles.

“I know that Gwen came home and told me she’d made a friend the first week you arrived in Camelot. I know that you’ve reminded us what family means. I know that you care, Merlin, about your friends, because they’re important to you.”

Merlin blinks in confusion.

“I know you’re a strong man,” Percival says, “and not just because you can lift the packs for the horses without complaining. But you work hard, because you know you can, and so that people don’t have to. You provide what you can because you know what it’s like to have nothing.”

“I—I—“

“I know you’re brave,” Lancelot says softly, standing, “I know you feel the same fear that we all do and you stare it straight in the face.”

He pauses, takes one step closer.

“I know you don’t chase the glory of being brave, but the feeling of being brave and using it.”

“Guys, I—“

“I know what you’ve done.”

Merlin’s face goes pale at Leon’s words.

The knight tilts his head to the side and smiles.

“I’ve been around the longest,” he says in a near whisper, “and I have seen the changes from when you arrived in Camelot until now. I’ve seen the differences, not just in the other men in this room but in Camelot.”

He lays a hand on his chest.

“I know that you’ve made me prouder to serve this kingdom than many others that have tried.”

Poor Merlin is shaking right now, his fingers trembling on the edge of the table. He looks around in confusion, terribly frightened, sending more aches through Arthur’s chest.

“You wouldn’t say that—“ he gasps— “you wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.”

“And what truth is that?”

“That—that I—“ Merlin’s breaths start to ring in the chamber— “I—I—“

“That you have magic?”

Merlin’s head jerks around to stare at Arthur. Arthur raises his hands and takes a step closer. Merlin flinches.

“It’s alright, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, “I’m not angry. I’m not going to hurt you. You have magic, though, right?”

“Yes—yes, I—but I’ve only ever used it for—for you Arthur, I—“

“Easy,” he soothes, fighting the urge to reach out and pull him close, “I know. It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Merlin all but whimpers, “it’s not okay, it’s bad, it’s bad and I’m bad, I’m bad—“

“You’re not.”

“I am!”

Merlin yanks his arms to his sides, curling them tightly around himself, much to the protest of the knights. His fingers whiten as he clutches the sides of his tunic.

“I’m bad, bad people get hurt, you don’t—you don’t touch bad people.”

“Merlin,” Arthur breaks in softly, “Merlin, sweetheart, I’m going to come over to you.”

He can hear the quickly stifled gasps and Gwaine’s ‘oh shit’ as he inches towards Merlin. The poor man doesn’t move, but the tremors get worse and worse the closer Arthur gets.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you, sweetheart, do you believe me? That I won’t hurt you?”

“I—I—“

“Because I won’t,” he promises, still fighting the urge to swoop the poor thing into a hug, “I’ll never hurt you, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not bad, Merlin, and you certainly don’t deserve to be hurt.”

“You don’t know that,” comes the strangled whisper, “you don’t know what I’ve done.”

“But I know you, Merlin,” Arthur murmurs, “and that’s enough.”

He can’t stop the concerned noise at Merlin’s huff of disbelief.

“It’s enough, sweetheart, it’s—hey! Easy, easy,” he soothes as Merlin’s knees buckle and he catches him before he can hit the ground, “I’ve got you, shh, shh, you’re alright.”

“Oh,” Lancelot murmurs as Merlin starts to shiver terribly, “oh, Merlin, you’re touch starved.”

“Touch starved?”

“He’s not been touched for a very long time,” Lancelot murmurs, hustling to join them on the floor, scooping Merlin’s legs into his lap, “and so he’s not used to it, but he needs it.”

“We all need touch?”

“Yes, otherwise our bodies get…unhappy.” Lancelot shakes his head. “I’m sure Gaius could explain it more. The short version is humans aren’t built to hold each other at arm’s length.”

Arthur tightens his grip on the lapful of shaking Merlin he has. There’s a cold nose buried in the crook of his neck, arms looping awkwardly around his shoulders. Distantly, he hears the scufflings of the other knights as they move closer.

“We’ve got you, sweetheart,” he fins himself whispering, “we’ve got you, we won’t hurt you, you’re safe, you’re good, we have you, it’s alright, now…”

Poor Merlin is still shuddering terribly.

“Shh, shh, easy, just try and relax, we have you…”

Since when has Merlin been this cold?

“Oh, I’m definitely hugging you every day,” Gwaine mutters, helping to prop Merlin up away from the table.

“Why—“ Merlin swallows— “why are you all so warm?”

“You’re cold,” Arthur says, “we’re helping.”

“I’m—I’m—what is it? Touch—touch—“

“Touch starved,” Lancelot offers gently, “yes, Merlin.”

“You’re helping?”

Gwaine shifts behind him. “We’re helping.”

“You’re not…mad?”

“No, Merlin, we’re not mad.”

“I’m not bad?”

Arthur tightens his grip. “Never, Merlin.”

“You—I can—I can stay?”

“Yes, Merlin,” comes the chorus of knights, “for as long as you like.”

Arthur is still upset, very confused, and more than a little overprotective right now.

But so is Merlin.

And they’re…they’re starting to figure it out.

One thing’s for sure: Arthur’s definitely pulling Merlin into bed to cuddle with him instead of getting up in the morning.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merthur fic #merthur #fic #dragonbabbles

68 notes · View notes

drwcn · 4 years ago

Note

... You know, I was just thinking about Hua Mulan ChengQing AU. Hahah, ha. This movie is SOMETHING. Handkerchiefs are necessary.

oh I HEARD? but idk if i wanna see it. I’ve seen other things Liu Yifei (Mulan) was in and i don’t really like her?

NOTE: OKAY so there were some confusion!!! Before ppl get offended, anon and I are taking about two different movies. The one that anon is saying is good is Mulan (2009) an original Chinese movie BC I had been asking ppl where to watch it and received many inbox msgs about it. The Disney film is what I won't be watching for so many reasons, including bc I know the actress's work and is just unimpressed by her in general on top of all the other reasons.

Oh boy, but like...what IF it’s reverse!Mulan, aka matriarchal society. Where Jiang Cheng is the “sneak into the army for my family c”!Mulan and Wen Qing is the “I wanted to be a doctor but then the Fire Nation exploded in on itself”!Shang. And I worldbuilded for no reason...

tw: minor character death (suicide). un-beta-ed, unedited, unproof-read, we die like nmj

WEN QING

Wen Ruohan was never supposed to be the Emperor, Wen Qing’s mother once told her, but the imperial court had allowed him to inherit because his late Empress Mother had no daughters to inherit the throne. As long as WRH promised to father daughters and pass on through them, then the Wen dynasty legacy would be preserved.

“What did his wife say, that her children must take his last name?” Wen Qing had asked her mother, wide eyed and curious. Her mother had shrugged and said, “Well some women don’t mind, I guess, especially if it meant her children would be heiress of the throne.”

Wen Qing had frowned at that. What’s so bad about children taking their father’s name, she wondered. Men may not be allowed the same liberties as women, may not attend public school or join the army or hold court with the Empress, but they were still children’s parents. Not all women agreed on this of course, but that was the way of their world.

Her father died of consumption some years after Wen Ning was born, but Mother never took a second husband or a concubine. Wen Qing liked that about her mother. Brave, loyal, true.

Wen Qing’s mother, Dafan-junwang, a distant relation to the throne, was a renowned marshal, hailing from a proud line of generals and marshals, trusted by the Wen imperial family as protectors of the realm, without fear of usurpation. The people whispered that Wen Qing had much to live up to, if she were to inherit her mother’s duchy and hold a command of her own.

Wen Qing never had much interest in war or martial arts, but she learned, trained, practiced and perfected her skills because she could never bear the thought of letting her mother down. In her heart (and in her free time), she learned the science and art known by father. He was a quiet man, a physician (quite skilled too), before he married her mother. He wasn’t what her grandparents would have wanted for their daughter, but Mother had been adamant.

Wen Qing’s mother hadn’t been good at expressing her love, but she did love her husband. Very much. Mother was only ever soft around Father, and Wen Qing only knew this because she’d seen them hold hands when they thought no one was watching.

Wen Ning, being the son of a wealthy aristocratic family, was destined to marry well when he came of age. Unlike girls, boys weren’t allowed to attend publicly funded scholarly schools or martial academies. Wealthy and noble families however were able to afford private tutors for their sons, so that they would know the four arts (play the qin, weiqi, literature, and art) and be elegant, competent husbands for their wives. If Wen Ning was competent enough, charming enough, and gave his wife daughters (because everyone knew it’s the men who control the sex of the baby), then she would be faithful to him -> at least that’s what their nanny said.

“How did they know, that men determined the sex of the baby?” Wen Qing asked her mother one evening when she turned thirteen and was given The Talk.

Her mother tilted her head and said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “My dear, women are the earth, we grow and birth life. Men are like the seeds. If you plant an apricot tree, the earth will nourish it and let it flourish, but the fruit will always be apricots, you will never have peaches.”

Once, Wen Qing had asked her mother if she could be a physician instead, if Wen Ning could take her place as general. Her mother had given her a very stern look and said, “No only is your brother of a sickly disposition, but you are my daughter. The duchy and my command can only be inherited by you. For your country, you do not have a choice.”

Wen Qing conceded, because she was good.

The days dragged on, and slowly it was becoming clear Wen Ruohan would have no daughters. Not only so, the sons he fathered were ill-mannered and haughty, unfit to rule. Wen Ruohan’s mind, too, was slowly leaving him, due to unknown reasons. The ministers of the court and notabilities of the peerage urged Wen Ruohan to take on the daughter of his cousin born of his maternal aunt, and to groom her as heir. This brought on much discontent from Wen Roohan’s two princes, who aligned themselves with lurking enemies from the north, and before anyone could mitigate the situation, the country was thrust into a full blown civil war.

Every bit her mother’s daughter, Wen Qing did not hesitate to mount her horse and ride off into battle. She had her duties and she would serve until her death.

Jiang Wanyin had a very pretty face - she would reflect in retrospect. Perhaps that was why she believed him when he showed up at her camp with a conscription missive claiming to be his older sister Jiang Yanli.

JIANG CHENG

The Jiang family was a wealthy merchant family situated southeast of the capital, in the province of Yunmeng. The current head of family is Jiang Ziyuan, known for her sharp business mind and sharp ways with her sword.

(the only reason i’m switching Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan’s last name is because it’s a matriarchal society, and Yu Cheng and Yu Yanli sounds way too awful as names, but Yu Fengmian and Jiang Ziyuan are actually not bad.)

There was a rumour that her husband Yu Fengmian of a Meishan Yu clan, had betrayed her with a wandering traveler from the pugilist world named Cangse...something something, and that he had fathered a son with her out of wedlock. If it were true, then by the conventions of the land, Jiang Ziyuan would have every legal right to divorce Yu Fengmian and send him back to his family to live out the rest of his days in seclusion, shame and repentance.

But when Yu Fengmian came to her with the little Wei Ying, freshly orphaned, Yu Ziyuan turned the boy this way and that, examined him for “abnormalities” and nodded. Then she summoned her son, and said to him, “Our manor purchased some new indentured servants. This boys is yours from now on, he is your responsibility. Keep him in line, find some uses for him, or get rid of him.”

Jiang Cheng looked to his big sister, but his sister just shook her head. Not quite understanding what was happening, or why his father was bowed down on the floor, Jiang Cheng took his new “servant” and left.

Watching them go, Jiang Yanli then turned to her mother and said, “Muqin, if I may be so bold, I have an idea.”

Jiang Yanli was not the heiress that Jiang Ziyuan had hoped for. Though incredibly intelligent, Jiang Yanli was of poor health and not suited for martial training. Jiang Ziyuan had been quite troubled by this for some time, fearing others would cause trouble once Jiang Yanli inherits. However, she was also hesitant to train her son Jiang Cheng, even though he showed both interest and aptitude. It was not often that well to do families would want to take on a too “rambunctious” boy as groom for their daughters. Yet to leave Jiang Yanli without close protection...

“Are you thinking that boy...”

Jiang Yanli nodded. “Father denies being Wei Ying’s paternal parent, but surely tongues will waggle regardless. Mother, you are within your right to dismiss father, but he is still my father, and if not for me, think of A-Cheng. One day he will marry, and what family would want a son with a disgraced sire. Wei Ying looks healthy and strong; as I am unfortunately unable to train with the sword, mother may yet train him. Surely you’re not worried about his future marriage prospects. Perhaps it is better yet that he never marries, for he will remain close to Lotus Pier and serve at my side.”

Jiang Ziyuan listened to Jiang Yanli’s words and decided that her daughter made very valid points. Her relationship with her husband could never be repaired but she had her children’s future to consider.

And yet happiness would not last for long. Two months after Jiang Yanli’s sixteenth’s birthday, she received news that her mother’s private boat, which she used to inspect her properties, had capsized in a terrible monsoon storm, killing everyone on board.

After the news reached Lotus Pier, Yu Fengmian took his own life in the dead of night, leaving a letter stating that he had owed Jiang Ziyuan too much to repay, that though Wei Ying was not his son, he had kept secrets from her that he swore he would not reveal in this life. Now that she’s gone, he would keep her company in her journey to the beyond.

The Jiangs mourned, but they survived.

Then when the boys turned seventeen, war broke out over the lands, and the conscription missives arrived demanding one female from every household. Jiang Cheng panicked. Wei Wuxian had been sent to Gusu on business and would not return for some time. The military missive was time sensitive, so Jiang Cheng didn’t have another choice...besides it’s not like A-Jie’s matchmaking attempts for him had been all that successful...he was next to blacklisted anyway after his last debacle with the Qin girl.

Jiang Cheng decided that he could pass as a woman if he dressed properly and redid his hair, but his voice...he'd just have to pretend he could not speak. That way, no one would know.

WQ: “Who are you?”

JC *hands her his letter*

WQ: “Jiang Yanli? The Yunmeng Jiangs? Of Lotus Pier?”

JC: *nods*

Her subordinate, “I didn’t know Jiang Ziyuan’s daughter was mute, they only said she was of poor health.”

Luo “Mianmian” Qingyang finds out first.

Mianmian: *GASP and points* You’re a man!

JC: *covers his body* SHH!!! Turn around! Don’t look at me! *turns to look away*

Mianmian: *naked by the river ready for a bath but too shocked to move* but, but, but, how?? How did we not know????

JC: Mianmian - no- Lt. Luo, please don’t tell the Young Marshal! Please, I only came so my sister wouldn’t have to -

MM: Cowardice! It is every woman’s sworn duty to -

JC: My sister is of very delicate health. She won’t survive! She’s my late mother’s only daughter, if she dies... I’m expendable. I don’t mind being cannon fodder, please don’t report me.

JC shivering in the snow. “You said you trust Yanli! Why should Wanyin be any different?!”

WQ stood impassively over him with a sword at his neck. Then, she closed her eyes and turned away. “A life for a life. My debt is paid.”

---

JYL: *Proud* “A-Cheng helped secure the future of our nation. The adopted young crown princess was too young to rule without a loyal regent, and Wen Ruohan’s sons colluded with outside forces...it would have been chaos. Millions would have died.”

WWX *teasing* “Sure he brought home a sword, if you ask me he should’ve brought home a wife!”

---

JC, “W-would you like to stay for dinner - ”

WWX: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

JC: Wei Wuxian! She’s regent now, be respectful!”

WQ: Dinner...sounds lovely.

#cql #the untamed #chengqing #wen qing #jiang cheng #corie fics #Anonymous #corie replies #cql ideas

224 notes · View notes

straycat-writes · 5 years ago

Note

helo can i have some hc’s of dazai finding out his s/o is pregnant when she’s been tryna keep it a secret bc she didn’t know how he would react? pls n ty 💞 btw i love your writing sm i appreciate everything u do for us

[Aaaaa thank you so much 🥰 I know you said hcs but…well, I have nothing to say in my defense.]

We Always Do (Osamu Dazai)

Warning(s): None, really, but idk, this feels a little heavy…

You sat on the edge of the bathtub, elbows propped on your knees and hands holding your head. A shaky exhale escapes your lips as you stare unblinkingly at the pregnancy test lying on your lap. It showed two red lines.

What now? The small voice at the back of your head seemed to ask. You could feel the panic rising up in your throat like bile, as you thought of how Dazai might react. None of the scenarios that played out in your head ended good. You don’t blame him, honestly. You’re both young, and hadn’t even thought of having kids in the near future, if at all. And despite how much you loved him, you had to admit Dazai doesn’t really seem like someone who would be thrilled at the idea of being a father.

“Babe?” You hear him call out from outside the bathroom door, “You’ve been in there for quite a while now. Everything alright?”

“Y-yeah.” You manage to say, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

So, you got up, trying your best to suppress the urge to break down crying, and threw the test in the trash. For the time being, you decided, you would sweep the matter as well as your feelings under the metaphorical rug, and behave as if nothing happened. You washed your face and put on your best smile, before opening the door.

Dazai looked up from where he was lounging on the bed and blinked at you, “Is something wrong, sweetheart?”

“Not at all.” You smiled as you went to sit beside him.

He pulled you onto his lap and lightly kissed your cheek. “Are you sure? You look a little pale.”

You sighed and nuzzled further into him. You suddenly felt very cold and Dazai held such a familiar warmth, it almost made you cry. “…Don’t worry about it.”

Tired. You’re always so tired. You put your head down on your desk and close your eyes, all surrounding sounds from the office fading into blurry radio static. You didn’t know the fatigue would set in so quick.

“…/n)?…(Y/n)!”

You shot up straight in your chair and blinked disorientedly, only to see Yosano looking at you with concern, “Are you okay? You don’t look so well.”

You waved a hand and smiled faintly at her, “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

She gave you a skeptical look, “Maybe you should go home. Should I call Dazai?”

“No, no, I’ll find him myself.” You said as you get up, fighting another bout of lightheadedness.

Earlier that day, a client had come in with her toddler. As Kunikida and the president talked to her, Dazai had busied himself with the child, finding the toddler much more amusing than the case the mother presented. Seeing him in such good spirits, amusing both himself as well as the child, had given you some hope and you had thought maybe, just maybe, you could tell him and it won’t end in disaster. But as soon as the client had left with her kid, Dazai had flopped down on the couch, complaining about how kids are so much work and definitely ‘not his cup of tea’.

At the time, you could only sigh and agree with him, but you could feel your heart shattering in your chest, more than it already had.

You exchanged some words with Dazai when you found him, you don’t remember what, but he gave you worried look before taking you back home, to the apartment you shared. As soon as you set foot inside, you shook off Dazai’s hand from your waist, that had been keeping you steady until now and rushed inside as fast as you could, crashing into the bathroom. You barely made it to the toilet before you threw up, your stomach emptying itself of everything you had consumed since morning.

As you retched, you could feel Dazai rush in behind you. He crouched beside you and held back your hair, rubbing your back gently. After dry-heaving for a few more seconds, you slumped back, drawing up your knees and burying your face in them.

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, one of his arms draped on your shoulders, before you finally regained some semblance of your wits. You shook off his hand once more and got up, making your way to the sink to clean up. Dazai followed you.

“Belladonna…?”

Not trusting your voice, you ignored him as you finished cleaning up, lastly washing your face with water. You didn’t look at him as you turned around, you couldn’t bring yourself to, when you were barely preventing yourself from crying. What would you even say?

He caught you by the wrist, “We need to talk.”

Four words. That was all it took for you to break down then and there. Dazai pulled your crying and shaking form into his arms, and it was a good thing too, because otherwise you might have toppled over. Even as he gently stroked your hair, he didn’t say anything. Once he saw that you had quieted down enough to talk, he held you by the shoulders and looked at you, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

You took in a deep, shaky breath. Oh, well. You couldn’t have kept it from him forever, anyway. “I’m…pregnant.”

He let go of your shoulders as if he had been burned, face immediately going from concerned to blank. In the pin-drop silence that followed, his eyes remained fixed on you, but he didn’t really seem to be seeing you, or anything at all. And the longer he didn’t say anything, the further your heart sank.

“Dazai?” You say softly, cautiously touching his sleeve, “Say something, please.”

Your voice seemed to pull him back to reality and he blinked, before finally looking at you, for real this time. He raised a hand and you almost flinched back, screwing your eyes shut. But nothing happened. Only when you felt the back of his fingers lightly caress your cheek did you gingerly open your eyes.

There was hurt written all over Dazai’s face, and for a moment, you thought maybe this broke his heart more than it ever broke yours. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.

“I was…scared.” You say, swallowing hard, “I didn’t know how you would take it, thought you would probably – “

“Leave you?”

Your breath hitched and you nodded. But try as you might, you still couldn’t read what he was feeling.

He sighed and pulled you closer to himself once more, resting his chin on top of your head. This is it, you thought, this is how we end. With a hug and a kiss.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, so softly that you didn’t catch it at first. Or maybe you did, but couldn’t believe it. How could it be okay?

But then he kissed your hair and said it louder, “It’s okay, belladonna. I’m not going anywhere.”

You pulled back from him a little and looked up at him with confused, red-rimmed eyes, “You’re…not?”

“I would never.” He shook his head, and you felt like bursting into tears once more.

You clutched the front of his coat to keep yourself steady, your grip so tight that your knuckles turned white, “Dazai…I – I don’t know what to do. I know you didn’t want a child. And – and – “

“Ssshh, it’s okay, it’s fine.” He said in a hushed, soothing tone, “It’s okay, don’t worry.”

You sighed shakily as you leaned into him once more, trying your hardest to make yourself believe him. Maybe it will be okay. You could feel his heartbeat where your face rested on his chest, steady like it always was., and you felt your resolve forming. It’s okay, we’ll figure it out. We always do.

#dazai osamu #dazai x reader #tw: pregnancy #scenario #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #imagines #bsd

458 notes · View notes

paipayaseeds · 4 years ago

Note

(idk if there was a certain person supposed to be at the door i don’t remember the game oops so i just picked kaede bc they need the cameras or some shit idk)(also there’s alcohol in this so if that’s not okay pls tell me to rewrite it or just end it if you want to! i just want to make sure ur okay dandbrjsjnfndan)(also idk man i only have one experience drinking vodka and i hated it so if it’s weird that’s why LMAOFIDJDJ)

waking up with a gasp, she looked up at the monitor mounted to the wall of her room. she winced at the loud volume of the speakers, and at the unnecessary reminder that her life would be cut short tomorrow night. when the tv turned back off, the uneasy feeling in her chest lingered; there wasn’t anybody there to hold her and tell her ‘it’s okay, it’s just the announcement...’ her arm was asleep, and when she looked down, she was hit with yet another reminder of how alone she was, met with the sight of a detective’s jacket... but no detective.

for a good half hour, she tossed and turned on her mattress trying to fall asleep, but to no avail. once she spent the night with shuichi, there was no way she’d be able to spend another one alone again. so, she got up and took a warm shower: one last attempt at relaxing herself enough to fall asleep. (she wasn’t a stinky little bitch-baby like shuicheese across the building). she didn’t care about her face, she wouldn’t have to see it for much longer anyway. she brushed her teeth and combed her hair before changing into some clean clothes. she was going to slip under blanket until she noticed the uniform still sitting there. i should... give it back. it was really just an excuse to go to shuichi’s room. she folded it over her arms and walked over to his door, leaving her mask in her room since everyone would be in theirs anyway. once she got there, though, she couldn’t bring herself to knock. instead, she just stood there with her knuckles barely brushing against the door while she was frozen. eventually, she backed up and folder the clothes neatly and placed them on the floor right in front of his door for him to pick up in the morning.

she managed to get a little shut-eye during the night, but not much. she let out a loud groan at the morning announcement before dragging herself out of bed and cleaning herself up for the day. that included putting on her mask. despite it only being two days, out of habit she waited for shuichi to come and walk with her. but, when she stood outside her door and noticed kaede knocking at his door, holding the clothes she had left there last night, she realized that wouldn’t be happening today. she shook her head before heading out the door and towards the dining hall.

when she arrived, she walked into a very weird conversation. rantaro and ryoma seemed to be arguing.

“nobody will be dying, you hear me?”

“you heard the bear, someone’s gotta kick it if you wanna live another day. i’m sayin’ that someone should be me.”

fumiko was a little shocked. why was ryoma trying to sacrifice himself...? he offered a lot to the group, and he helped out with the chores a lot!

“n-no...! k-kill... kill me instead.” fumiko spoke up, making the rest of the room look over and realize she was there. korekiyo seemed to be very interested in the conversation, how brilliant was it to see not one, but two people willing to give up their lives for the sake of others. “i’m- i’m serious.” because you deserve it. rantaro shot her a look that sent a shiver down her spine.

“i said, nobody will be dying. if any of you try anything... so help me god... just- just trust me, alright? don’t do anything stupid.” the green-haired man said, placing a hand on fumiko’s shoulder as he talked before leaving the dining hall. her gaze followed him, and when she turned around she saw a detective and a pianist standing at the doorway, seemingly watching this whole thing go down.

“fuck this, i’m gettin’ somethin’ to drink! if anyone wants to join me, feel free, hmph...” miu said, following in rantaro’s footsteps out the door before opening the entrance to the warehouse. i’ve never gotten drunk before... fumiko thought. she stood there in thought before ultimately deciding to follow the inventor into the warehouse, brushing her shoulder on shuichi’s as she did.

“h-huh? someone actually came?” miu said when she heard the door open. “Y-YOU...? FOR REAL? HAH! i might’ve underestimated you!” the blonde seemed to have known exactly where to go to find alcohol, as if she’s done it before, and she pulled out a bottle of vodka. fumiko stole the bottle from her hands and started downing it like it was nothing.

“w-w-what are you doing....!? H-HOW?” it tasted awful, and she hated it. but being drunk was supposed to be fun, right? so she squeezed her eyes shut and dealt with the pain. the door to the warehouse opened, and fumiko continued drinking. miu was so fucking out of it, she had no idea what was going on. she saw kaede and shuichi at the door and knew what they were going to ask. before she acknowledged them, though, she ripped the bottle from fumiko’s hand.

“give me that,” she mumbled, “WHAT THE FUCK? YOU DRANK HALF-”

“miu!” the pianist shouted, walking towards her, “are the- are they finished...?”

“yeah, yeah, come with me. i’ll give ‘em to ya.” miu stomped out of the room, open bottle in hand, and led the two visitors to her lab. all fumiko did was sit on the ground and rub her head. her whole body felt shitty already from the idiotic way she drank the beverage, the gross taste lingering in her mouth for much longer than she’d liked. it didn’t help that she got maybe an hour of sleep the night prior, which already rendered her ill. what was she thinking? that she would be dead by tomorrow. that’s what she was thinking.

Opening the door to his room, he was met with Kaede, and... his clothes? How did she get his clothes? Voicing his troubled thoughts, he furrowed his brow at her, "W- why do you have my clothes...?" Kaede blinked, "Huh? Wha-?" She looked down at the article she had held in her arms, somehow forgetting she had picked it up. "Oh! I found this outside your door!"

Taking the folded clothing from her hands, he gazed down at it thoughtfully, racking his brain to try and think of why that had been— "C'mon, let's go! You already made me wait long, we have to get Miu's cameras and then you know," She spoke in a hushed tone, a cheeky smile on her face, "Set up the plan."

Shuichi found himself balancing on the line of giving her space, and running to her side to check on her—and you know what? It was stupid! He was stupid. What if she got alcohol poisoning? What if she does something rash? Most importantly, why? Throwing away the barrier that prevented him from interacting with the girl he loved, he concluded she had enough space.

God knows if she forgave or not for his bullshit, but that was beside the point she had just downed half a bottle of Vodka. As he practically dashed to the girl sitting on the ground, he left the disgruntled pianist behind—sadly, this hadn’t been the first time he had done that.

Slowing down to a stop, he crouched down across from her, subconsciously trying to see her eyes. It was strange, but he found himself wishing for a flashlight to see if the alcohol had kicked in yet.

Shuichi had to shove down the urge to scold her on drinking alcohol, knowing she didn't enjoy yelling nor was it even an okay thing to do. He had put himself on a permanent hiatus from yelling, he didn't want to see her upset like that, not today, and not ever.

"H- hey, uh..." He flinched at his own shaky and awkward voice, feeling the huge difference to how he talked to her before. Things shouldn't have felt so tense between them, today could've been the last day they— No. No, the plan would work.

"Why did...-" Shuichi pursed his lips; why did he bother asking? He knew why, didn't he? Well, maybe he just... didn't want to believe it. "W- were you drinking because of... what you said earlier? A- about the.." He trailed off, expression slightly saddened as he remembered her self-sacrificial remark.

Clearing his throat, he sat himself down fully on the floor across from her; a safe distance as he was afraid she still didn't want to be too close to him. Forcing words out of his throat, he spoke with feigned determination; despite his soul-crushing fear of 'what if the plan doesn't work?', he tried to remain strong. If not for himself, then for Fumiko, right?

"No one is going to have to die. E- especially not you, never... never you." He tried swallowing the rising lump in his throat, eyes focusing onto the ground as he tried to get rid of his emotions. He cleared his throat again, blinking violently as to rid the tears; he wasn't going to cry in front of her. And especially not Miu. "... S- sorry." Ah yes, the apology he had forgotten to give to her when he yelled near her. This fucking prick-

#mod chia #rp #DAMN IT I HATE HIM AGAIN #teapot anon

4 notes · View notes

theclownandtheflame · 5 years ago

Text

AIGHT FELLAS it's me ya slut writing a Gaius x MC fic so if you don't like Gaius or feel grossed out by the idea of a ship then DON'T READ IT haaaa no seriously don't read it. Also don't shame those who like it. PEACE! 🧚🏻‍♀️

Btw I didn't quite finish it bc idk my imagination gets dry sometimes and stuff. BUT if any of you want me to keep writing, then ask so and I'll do it! I'll do it either way but oh well ksksksks here we go!

Victim, Victim, Monster

A Gaius Augustine x MC drabble/fic

Written by @theclownandtheflame

DISCLAIMER: Some NSFW, slight mentions of PTSD (not romanticized tho!! ew!!)

Characters used &/or mentioned belong to Pixelberry!!! All rights to them even if they take ours on a daily basis

My mother language is Portuguese so please excuse my grammar should it be necessary!

MC's name is Athena because,, :)

Final warning for Gaius' haters: don't. read. below. the line !!!!!!!!

_________________________________________

"Athena, I did terrible things to you. I abducted you. I raided your mind. I tortured your friends. I killed you."

Funny how stating the obvious got him stuck in her mind the whole night. Fragile, the bloodkeeper clutched her pillow and busied herself with happier thoughts. As if there were any at times like these.

They had just escaped the island when its effects fully wore out. She couldn't blame "grandpa" for her restlessness, as much as she wanted to. So much to consider after trekking across the ugly truth and all she could think about was Gaius. Gaius Augustine.

She heaved a dramatic sigh before changing positions. Now, laying on her back, Athena realized this was probably the best night of sleep she's had in a while. Even if there was, like, absolutely no sleeping involved.

What kept her up wasn't the nightmares this time. Something about their talk, as eerie as it went, helped her conceal the fact his face would haunt her forever. Because, oh, it would.

"You can't sleep, can you?"

The agony, crawling under her skin, hit so deep she could hear his voice at any given time. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she stared at the ceiling, counting sheeps for a change. No nightmares, no daydreams, but absolutely not a hint of tranquility.

"... Athena."

She huffed. If she knew coming to good terms with the enemy would bring him inside her head, she wouldn't have taken the high road. Her lips still tingled from the kiss she pressed to his cheek. The electric warmth shared upon breaking a boundary she would've never have crossed days prior.

If only her friends could see her now. Touching her lips with her fingertips. Thinking fondly of a monster they swore to kill.

"Are you asleep? Do you actually sleep with your eyes open? You are one strange woman."

"Leave, demon!" She hissed, forcing herself up to sit by the edge of the bed. Both hands rubbed at her temples as she whispered words of discouragement, praying to have her brain raided by better thoughts. A psych vampire who can't watch after her own mind was most likely a joke.

Until she glanced towards the door, slowly, blushing deeply at the owner of her inner voices who simply stared back in awe. So it wasn't her imagination playing tricks, huh?

He blinked. Fast.

"... Did you think I—"

"Shut up." She lisped. Her hands continued to cradle her head even as he walked in, eyebrows arched.

"I was hoping you'd be less fussy after our conversation."

Without expecting an invitation, he crossed the distance between them and leaned into the wall across from her.

Surprisingly she didn't budge. Not until her body flinched at the cold breeze that entered freely from the gap he left by keeping the door open.

"Yeah, so was I." The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath to keep herself from shaking.

Once aware of the situation, Gaius snatched her pillow and tossed it on the door. It slammed closed from the impact, but it wasn't loud enough to startle the others.

"Hey!" She gasped, watching the scene with eyes wide. "Couldn't you just go and close it manually? Like, running for it? You're a powerful vampire, dude."

Entertained by her fright, he smirked.

"I'm also way too comfortable standing right here... dude."

Gaius Augustine was a monster. Is a monster. She couldn't really tell. Decades of cruelty couldn't be wiped out so easily, as Kamilah strongly suggested whenever she mentioned his name. Yet, the way he looked at her with a mixture of sorrow and regret proved it true: Rheya broke him whole.

He stood still, stiffening once their eyes met, and suddenly all she could see was a wounded hound looking for shelter.

"Why are you here?" She asked at last. A simple question that sent him looking for scrappers of answers he couldn't quite provide.

Why was he there, really? Because she's the only one who didn't give him a hard time? Because she knew how his mind worked, and therefore they had a reliable bond?

Because she's the only good thing left of the Rheya he once loved?

He needn't consider any further. That last possibility drained all colors from his face. Staring blankly ahead, his mouth slightly ajar, Gaius ignored her altogether and hurried towards the door.

"Wait!" She called out. Without further ado, Athena leaped to her feet and approached the man to lay a hand on his as it reached for the knob.

The look he gave her was a haunting one. Desperate. He couldn't bear looking at her face without feeling himself break further.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

He was terrified of her.

"I must leave." He blurted out, but his body remained unmoving. The gentle touch he felt on his hand moved on to his cheek, and suddenly he found himself leaning into it.

What the hell, Athena? What are you doing?, She thought. He abducted you, raided your mind, tortured your friends, killed you!

Their eyes met once more, and this time they didn't go astray. They glared at each other's hues while their heads swirmed with questions of where they stood and what they meant.

Victim, victim, monster.

Both experiencing a strong attraction that most likely came to life due to their shared fear:

To lose a purpose without making it right.

Pulling away out of a sudden, Athena turned on her heels and walked in front of a mirror. He followed short after, magnetized, his hands yearning to grasp her hips but resting on his belt instead. His towering figure could be easily seen behind her as a smile crept on her rosy lips.

"What?" He frowned. "What's so amusing to you that clearly isn't to me?"

Biting on her bottom lip, she gestured towards their reflections, believing it would be enough. By the way his lips puckered, it wasn't.

"We're vampires. Yet we can see ourselves on the mirror. Hollywood's fishy, isn't it?"

Sighing sharply not to roll his eyes at her foolishness, he leaned into her to touch the mirror's surface. The way his chest pressed into her back so that his palm could reach the glass made her heartbeats quicken.

The funny look he gave her through a squint was enough to say he heard them loud and clear. And enjoyed being the cause of it.

"You don't believe Vlad's tales, do you? It's outrageous. The man is a buffoon." He quirked an eyebrow. Looking at the mirror at the same time, the two shot each other challenging glares until she burst into laughter.

"Nah. He's not that great, by the way. I don't see the appeal... and I've certainly had better."

Wiggling her eyebrows, Athena fist-bumped the air upon spotting a crimson shade spread on his cheeks. He'd have pulled away to adjust his posture if she hadn't laid her hand upon his.

Her fingers grazed his until curling around them, her touch so gentle he could barely feel it. He closed his eyes when she laid her head back on his shoulder, and his arm slowly slithered around her waist in return.

Humming to herself, Athena shrunk into his arms and cherished the warmth of his hold. Then, the touch of his lips on her ear, of his breath tickling her skin.

"I do see the appeal in this." He growled, softly, making her body shiver from goosebumps. "Of holding you close to me instead of hunting you down. Of saving you instead of dragging you to harm's way."

The hand he had holding on her waist moved up to her breasts, hovering over her cleavage as he reached for a necklace as an excuse to his gestures. Her heart was entirely out of control at this point, beating faster by the minute – but she didn't care. She wanted him to be aware of his effects. Tilting her head, she brushed her lips across his jawline and smirked at the hiss she got in response.

"Well, there is a saying for that, y'know? Make love, not war."

Having distracted him with an array of kisses on his jaw, she reached back around her neck to unclip the necklace and toss it away. He needn't an excuse. Not anymore.

"So which one's gonna be? I'm warning you though, I'm great at waging war."

"You are infuriating." Without further notice, his hands clutched her hips to flip her around.

Once she could face him properly, Athena inched forth to try his lips for the first time, but he made sure to keep her at arm's length. His eyes, dark with lust, studied her frame before locking on her features. It's like he was seeing her for the first time, savoring the sight of something he craved despite unaware.

He took it in without a wish to kill but to touch, appraise, caress. Taste.

"Kiss me." She ordered, her voice but a whisper as his thumbs drew circles around her hips.

"No, Bloodkeeper..." He hummed, his nose brushing hers as he fought the urge to give it in. "I'm not so sure I am worthy of your lips."

Dodging temptation, he pressed a kiss to her cheek instead. A warm reminder that there's still good in this world as much as there could be in him.

"Goodnight, Athena."

She shook her head. He couldn't leave now, not when she found a way around the sharp edges of his heart. However, he was too determined to cut it short before it was too late. Even if something told him they were way past that.

Averting his gaze not to meet her hungry eyes, he planted one last kiss on her forehead and left with haste.

"Great..." She mumbled, more restless than ever. "Now I definitely can't sleep."

-//-

#bloodbound #bloodbound choices #bloodbound book 3 #bloodbound fic #bloodbound drabble #gaius augustine #gaius x mc #yes it is real the cursed ship mwah #bb choices #bb pb #theclownandtheflame : victim victim monster

96 notes · View notes

swlbarnes · 6 years ago

Text

Soul - Jack Kline x Reader

Summary: Castiel always insists that it is impossible for humans to perceive the physical form of a soul. After spending time with Jack, you swear Cas is wrong.

Pairing: Jack Kline x Reader, Father figure!Castiel x Reader

Word count: 8.1k

Warnings: canon typical violence, light torture, some slight angst, fluff, danger to reader, danger to characters, blood, fatherly castiel (is that a warning? idk), basically there’s some good stuff and some bad stuff, but overall it’s fluff! slight canon divergence, vague early season 14 spoiler, but the main Jack plot in season 14 doesn’t apply here

A/N: I had this idea like FOREVER ago bc of that shot of jack asleep in the back of the impala (gif below), and i just got around to writing it bc school is garbage (pls stay in school). Hope it’s alright! Feedback is always greatly appreciated!

gif creator here, give them love!

Soul /sōl/ noun - the immaterial essence, animating principle, or actuating cause of an individual life.

You often found yourself asking Castiel the most random of questions about the universe. What was the beginning of the world like? What did the Bible completely get wrong? How have things changed over time in Heaven? Who thought the platypus was a good idea?

Most of all, though, your questions seemed to focus on one thing: souls. You were absolutely enamored by the subject. Something about them felt so incredibly intriguing, and after having seen the change in Sam Winchester when he happened to lose his soul, you wanted all the information you could get. Having an angel friend to answer your questions was exactly what you needed.

“Cas,” you spoke his name softly, intent on not destroying the peacefully quiet nature of the bunker’s library at 4 o’clock in the morning. The pair of you were up researching for a hunt after you found yourself unable to fall asleep. You insisted that instead of having Cas use his grace to help you sleep, that you could use your time to get some work done. The seraph reluctantly agreed.

“Yes?” He hummed in acknowledgement. His eyes lifted from his book in front of him just slightly to meet your gaze.

“What does a soul look like?”

Castiel let out a quiet chuckle, leaning back in his seat and pushing the book away just enough to show that you had his attention. A small smile quirked at the corners of his mouth at the question. This was far from your first time asking it. You questioned him relentlessly about every topic you could think of, but no matter what, you always came back around to the same question. What does a soul really look like?

And every time he gave the same answer: “They look like light.”

Sometimes you took this at face value, just glad to hear him say it again, but sometimes, like this particular night, you needed to hear more. You gave him a nod of encouragement, urging him to continue speaking. He took in a breath and cast his eyes over the room momentarily. His hands clasped together in his lap, and the small, relaxed smile remained on his face. He loved answering your questions and you could tell. There was always a childlike excitement to you when he would offer you a new piece of information. You would take his words and hold them close to you, eager to commit them to memory. You knew secrets of the universe that other people could never even dream of knowing. It felt nice to take you under his literal and metaphorical wing to teach you the things you wanted to know.

“Souls tend to shine differently depending on the person. You can tell so much about someone based on their soul alone. This is why demons are so easy to spot: their souls are so twisted that they become something so much different than the purity of a human soul,” he elaborated, his eyes trailing over the swirls of the wood grain on the table top.

You leaned forward slightly. “But surely not all human souls are so… pure,” you pointed out. He nodded.

“You’re correct. Many human souls find themselves being twisted in their life on earth as well, but never to the extent of a demon’s, of course.”

“But demons manifest themselves as black smoke. So, does that mean that the purity of a soul is based on how bright it is?” You continued to pester. You trailed your nails along the edge of the table subconsciously.

Castiel shook his head side to side. “No, not at all. It’s less of it being one rule for all and more of just a… feeling. Much like you are often able to tell the intentions of a fellow human with a glance, souls are much the same. Some souls are dim, but that does not mean that they aren’t beautifully pure,” he informed you. His voice remained level and patient, as it always did when you started a line of questions. You smiled at his tone. You were always grateful for the care he took in these situations. He never made you feel bad for your questions or your lack of knowledge, something you wished that your old school teachers had taken lessons in.

Your gaze travelled down to the pages of the lore book still open in front of you. The old weathered paper was yellowed and tattered with time. The top right corner of the page you were on was creased from someone who knows how long ago that dog-eared their spot in the text. You fought the urge to grimace at the foul treatment given to the book and focused instead on posing your next question. “What does… my soul look like?”

This was another familiar question, but still, Cas humored you. He trailed his eyes over your face with a thoughtful expression before he opened his mouth to reply. “Your soul is… complex. It shines bright, and has a slight, dare I say, twinkle to it. Like a star.” He paused to cast you a proud, fatherly smile. “You’re the team’s North Star, forever helping to guide us home.”

You cast your eyes downward, hoping the way your hair came down around your face was enough to hide your reddened cheeks and meek smile. You reached a hand up to trail a finger along the edges of your book. The worn leather of the binding was soft beneath your fingertips, and the scent of old pages wafted around you like a blanket in the serenity of the library. “I wish I could see souls,” you commented in passing, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

Cas was quick to recognize the wobble of your form and the half closed position of your heavy eyelids. He stood from his seat and made his way around the table, placing a hand on your shoulder and coaxing you upright. “Humans can’t see souls, and I promise that if there was a way for you to do so, you would be the first person I would tell.” With that, he led you down the maze-like halls of the bunker and into your bed. He brought the covers up to your chin, giving a light chuckle as he heard your soft snores before he was even able to shut the door behind him.

A year or so had passed since that night. Things finally settled down, and for once you could feel at peace. The bunker now consisted of the two Winchester boys, your fallen angel mentor, an ex-trickster archangel, and the son of Lucifer himself. Things were… good. There was just one thing…

Castiel had lied to you.

He had told you that humans could not see souls. That humans were incapable of comprehending the visual aspects of a soul. And you swear to every higher power you know, he lied to you. He must have. It was the only explanation.

These thoughts paraded around your mind, your brain’s mess of emotions a swift contrast to the atmosphere of the Impala you were sat in the back seat therein. Your eyes fixated on the nephilim sat by your side. Jack’s body leaned limp against the car door, his hand placed with his palm against the window to act as a barrier between his cheek and the icy glass. The sun was setting just on the other side of his window. The sky was streaked with endless shades of pinks, yellows, and oranges, spreading out in wisps that curled lazily around the surrounding landscape. Your ears were filled with the soft guitar riff of Dean’s favorite Led Zeppelin cassette. The scent surrounding you was that of old leather, whiskey, gun powder, and a swirling mixture of both Sam and Dean’s favorite colognes - in other words, it smelled like home.

You fixed your attention on Jack’s form. Your gaze swept over him, taking in every detail you possibly could. You noticed the way the tips of his fingers twitched in his dreaming state. You noticed the slight part of his lips as he let out soft, even breaths. You noticed each little freckle that dotted his skin. You noticed the way that his favorite red jacket was tugged up to tuck into his neck, as you knew he loved how the fluffy fabric felt comforting against his skin. You noticed it all.

Most of all, you noticed the way the light of the sunset behind him framed his form. The remaining rays trickled in through the car window, casting a gentle glow around his silhouette. The orange tendrils of light curled along his hair and tinted his dark brown curls a lighter, more fiery blonde color. The slant of his cheekbones was far more distinct in this lighting. The shadows of his face were dark and impressive, but somehow his features maintained his tender nature. In fact, you swore you could make out the shape of a halo at the crown of his hair. Everything about him and the way the sunset curved around him felt so celestial, so strong. Yet still he retained an air of care and love about him. He just looked so… Jack. And it was incredible.

“What do you mean you’re scared of the dark?” Dean asked in a teasing tone. An annoyed scowl formed in your lips and your arms wound around your own torso as you sought out as much comfort as you could get.

“Oh, shove it Winchester. We’re all scared of something. You wouldn’t be so cocky if we were in an airplane right now,” you shot back. You tried your best to hide the shake in the back of your throat, but you knew by the eldest brother’s deep chuckle that you hadn’t done as well as you had hoped.

“That’s because a plane crash will kill ya, and you just have to go down without a fight. Seriously, you’re a hunter, how are you afraid of the dark?”

You shuffled around from your place in one of the plush couches of the library. The darkness surrounding you curled its claws around your neck and began to squeeze, but you just shook your head in an attempt to fight it off. “I know what’s in the dark. I think we have more reason to hate the dark than anyone else does,” you insisted. You could practically see the stupid smirk on his face, and you wanted nothing more than to punch it right off.

Your knees tugged themselves up against your chest so you could wind your arms around them. Gazing into the endless darkness was unsettling no matter what, but to make things worse, you didn’t know what was really in the bunker. The last time something got out, the Wicked Witch tried to destroy Oz, and you weren’t too keen on fighting both your fear of the dark and another old fairy tale on the same day. Nope. Definitely not. You were much more comfortable sitting right where you were on the couch with your back pressed against the wall and your feet up off the ground so nothing could grab you from somewhere in the emptiness.

The sounds of shuffling coming from the winding corridors caused you to jump in fright. “Wh-who’s there?” You stuttered out, turning your head from one side to the other as if you could see who - or what - was making their way over to you.

Around the corner, the flame of a lit candle made itself visible, the light it emitted casting a soft golden glow over the surrounding few feet. “Dean? (Y/N)?” The soft, familiar voice of the nephilim called as he rounded the corner, candle in hand. Your heart jumped at the sight.

“Jack!” You cried out gratefully. You instantly flung yourself off of the couch, the balls of your feet barely hitting the floor with each step before you leaped forward again, all the way up until you made it to the man. You ducked underneath the candle and wrapped your arms around his waist, tugging him close to you in search of comfort.

The air in his lungs was exhaled with a huff upon impact. He raised the candle above his head to ensure the flame wouldn’t catch on your hair or clothing before he wrapped his free arm around your shoulders in a comforting - yet confused - manner. “Are you alright?” Jack asked with an edge of worry in his tone. You nodded against his chest.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Just… don’t like the dark. And Dean is mean to me.” Your accusation brought forth a cry of offense from Dean, which in turn caused you to chuckle into the material of Jack’s shirt, which you were still clinging to as if your life depended on it. Jack looked up to Dean in an ever-so-serious accusatory manner.

“Sam is working on getting the power back on still. He said he’s almost got it, but I should come check on you in case you were worried,” the nephilim explained, turning his gaze to you once again. You cast him a small smile and took a step back.

You coughed to clear your throat from the awkward silence that followed, much to Dean’s amusement. He indicated this with a rather unflattering snort that you would have demolished him for in other circumstances. Instead of tearing into the older hunter, you peered upwards at the man in front of you. “Well, thank you for coming to make sure we were alright. I don’t know how much more of Dean’s teasing I can take, especially when it’s too dark for me to even take a swing at him.”

A smile bloomed on Jack’s lips, and your expression brightened to match. He lowered the candle again, now that you were a safe distance away. You instantly found yourself mesmerized by the way the shadows shifted across his skin, accentuating the hills and valleys of his face in different ways based on where the flame sat.

The soft orange glow flickered in his irises. The light was just bright enough to illuminate his face, chest, and shoulders, but the rest of his body seemed to fade into the darkness all around you. A few strands of chestnut hair were still visible, and the light brought forth more details of his natural highlights than you had previously noticed. Overall, he looked warm and safe, and you found yourself shuffling to remain close to him with each movement. You would later insist to Dean that this behavior was a result of you wishing to remain close to the light, but deep down you knew what the true source of your comfort really was.

“They’ll never find you, y’know,” the young janitor insisted as he strolled leisurely around the empty space. Well, to be fair, this wasn’t really the janitor. The real man was likely off in some remote location with a slit throat like all the other poor vics you had come across in the coroner’s office on this particular case. No, this man was the shapeshifter you and the team had been hunting for the past week.

You weren’t entirely sure how you had gotten caught. Your plan was foolproof, at least it was all the way up until it wasn’t. Perhaps it really was never the best idea for the whole team to split up and have each of you going off on your own, but there were simply too many possible hotspots the shifter could have shown up to and not enough hunters to adequately cover them all. You were all hoping to figure out who the latest face claim was tonight, and had no intentions of moving in on the creature. Apparently it had far different plans.

All you could remember was an ear ringing thud against the back of your head before you woke up tied against one of the rickety support beams in an old abandoned warehouse close by where you had been conducting your personal search mission. An hour and a half had already passed, and you found yourself running low on snarky quips to fire back. The backhanded commentary about the cliched locale ran out of steam about thirty minutes ago, and he really wasn’t giving you much else to work off of.

This had clearly worn you down, and you wanted nothing more than to get back to the motel room, shower off the blood and dirt clinging to your skin, and collapse into bed. Of course, your idiotic friends would have to actually find you and save you before that could happen.

“If you were really that confident in them not finding me, then you wouldn’t feel the need to constantly remind me how hopeless it is,” you pointed out, shrugging nonchalantly. “But, whatever, that’s just psychology or whatever. I’m sure the world renowned Winchesters will be completely fooled by you, some random back alley shifter with a thing for the dramatics.”

The noise that ripped from the man’s throat could only be described as a growl; it was a bit too human to be an animal, but just animalistic enough to not feel human either. All in all, it was utterly unsettling, and you found your feet shuffling around in discomfort. “Shut up,” he snarled. His lip curled upwards to bare his teeth, an act that seemed out of place when the pearly whites being revealed were the dull, omnivorous ones of a human being. You quirked a brow in question.

The shifter twirled the knife in his hand as he made his way over to where you stood. The cool metal of the blade was chilling against the skin of your neck, and you pressed your back into the wooden beam behind you in an attempt to retreat from his threat. “For someone about to die, you sure do talk a lot,” he hissed. You winced against the scent of tobacco and cheap liquor clinging to his breath.

“Well,” you muttered, mustering a smirk despite yourself. “For an evil mastermind who wants to kill me, you sure are taking your precious time.” Perhaps goading a mentally unstable form changing monster into killing you wasn’t the best course of action, but it was the only comeback your brain could think of as you felt the kiss of his knife against your bared throat.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m just letting you simmer for a while,” the shifter hummed. He raised the knife to brush a lock of hair from your eyes before trailing it down the side of your face. Your fists clenched from their place tied behind your back. “That fear in your eyes, the fear you’re trying to hide from me, it’s… thrilling. You act so high and mighty, you act like you’re the one in control here, but all it would take is one… little…” The knife in his hand trailed down the column of your throat and paused just over your heart, where he pressed down the flat of the blade just enough that the edges dug into your skin. “Slip.” On that word, he flicked his wrist, drawing a line of scarlet blood along your chest. You hissed out in pain.

“Oh, screw you, man,” you muttered through clenched teeth. He gave a dark chuckle and ran his knife through the stream of blood trickling down your skin.

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, a bang sounded from behind him. “Jack, wait!” Sam Winchester’s gruff voice called. The old, dilapidated door of the warehouse opened and slammed against the wall, revealing the young nephilim’s fuming form in the doorway.

“Jack!” You cried out in desperation. His gaze flickered over you momentarily, scanning your injuries and growing darker and darker with each new one he found. At the sight of the knife still being held against your chest, Jack’s eyes went alight.

“Stop!” He shouted, throwing his hand out in front of him and sending golden beams of his grace towards your attacker, who went flying far from gracefully across the empty room. His body slammed into one of the support beams, causing the wood to crack and splinter.

Sam and Dean came barreling into the warehouse after Jack, guns and knives at the ready. Sam wasted no time before rushing towards you, slicing through the rope around your wrists with his blade and catching you in his arms when your legs collapsed beneath you. You sighed and settled into his grasp, turning your eyes to Jack’s squared shoulders as he made his way to the crumpled form of the shifter.

Dean stepped forward to help the nephilim, but with a wave of Sam’s hand, he held his place and watched from afar instead. Jack’s entire body seemed to glow with his grace, his eyes a brilliantly bright gold unlike anything you had ever seen from the man. His jaw was set in determination as he reached a hand down and gripped the shifter’s shirt collar. He dragged the struggling man a few feet to the wall, where he slammed him against the ramshackled wooden planks.

“You should never have touched them,” he spat menacingly. Golden irises swept over the shifter’s body in disgust. The veins in Jack’s arm took up his signature glow as well, the light travelling up to his hand, where it seemed to sizzle against the shifter’s skin. An ear splitting cry ripped from the man’s throat, his legs thrashing wildly in an attempt to escape, but Jack made no move to let go. He simply tightened his grip and continued on. The shadow of two large wings spanned out along the wall, each wing easily seeming to be at least twice as large as Jack himself. They flared out in a way one could only describe as threatening, and for the first time in your life, you could understand the fear others seemed to have when they spoke of Jack Kline. The golden glow emanating from his being sent the hairs along your arms and at the back of your neck standing on end. Never had you seen Jack so… frightening. You tended to spend most of your time around the man cooing over his soft spoken nature and kind smiles. Seeing the full extent of the nephilim’s powers felt like being thrown into a bath of ice water. This truly was a being of immense strength and unimaginable power, and that fact was being thrown in your face quite suddenly.

“Jack!” You called out, voice wavering slightly in fright of the sight of such a cool and collected man in a state like this. He froze at the sound of your voice and turned his eyes to you. His grip loosened ever so slightly and his face fell as he realized what was wrong. He blinked away what he could of his anger and shifted his hand to the man’s forehead, sending one last blast of his grace to smite the shifter on the spot. The body crumpled to the floor, burnt out eyes gazing into nothing.

Jack turned on his heel and made it over to you in a few long strides. His hands reached out and he took you from Sam without a second thought. The golden glow in Jack’s eyes still had not disappeared entirely as he scanned over your injuries. His brow furrowed in unease at the sight of the various bruises and cuts marring your skin. Slowly, he raised a hand up to your cheek and pressed his palm against you. His grace flooded over your body, surrounding you in a warmth and comfort that felt so utterly Jack. Your injuries burned briefly as the grace touched them, but the discomfort was gone as quickly as it came.

At some point during the exchange, it seemed that your eyes had closed on their own volition. You allowed them to open once more, and they locked on to the fading light surrounding Jack’s pupils. Neither of you said a word, you just pulled him towards you and buried your face in his chest.

You tugged your jacket closer to your body against the chill of the late night winds. The tell tale splash of yet another rock being tossed incorrectly into the lake could be heard clearly as it echoed through the trees. A chuckle escaped your lips, an the nephilim by the shoreline pouted in response.

“I just don’t get it!” He complained, hanging his head low as he shuffled over to you. Your smile practically split your face at this point.

“Jack, it’s all about the technique. Plus, you have to get the right kind of rock. Make sure the rock is flat. Like…” Your eyes scanned over the rocks all around your feet until you found one that suited your needs. “This one!” You plucked it out of the mess and held it up to Jack for him to inspect. He turned it over in his fingers, brushing over the rock’s surface and giving an understanding nod.

“Okay,” he hummed in acknowledgement. “What next?”

You reached down and grabbed another similar rock that would suit your needs before standing upright once more. “Next, you want to crouch down a little, get yourself closer to the surface of the water, you know?” You do so as you speak, and Jack slowly moves to follow. “Turn to the side…” He shuffled so his side is facing the water. “Now, from here, you need to throw the rock as close to matching the surface of the water as you can, throw it kinda sideways, and flick your wrist.” With a quick flick of your wrist, the rock skids over the water and hops one, two, three times before it finally drops beneath the surface entirely.

You stood to your full height and turned around to face Jack, who had his arm wound back in preparation and a look of utter determination in his eyes. A small smile graced your lips at the sight. The light of the full moon illuminated his features in a soft, innocent glow. This setting felt so much different from the usual yellow tinted bulbs back in the bunker. The natural white light conveyed a sense of purity you had yet to see of him, but once it has been seen, the image will surely never leave you. His hair was pushed back to ensure there would be no distractions during such an important moment. Your gaze followed his arm as he flicked his wrist forward, sending the rock hurtling along the water. The ripples of the stone against the surface distorted his reflection, and you felt a small sense of pride when you saw how it bounced up and hit the water again with a splash.

“I did it!” He cried in victory, jumping up with a look of sheer joy.

You smiled back and nodded, trying your best to match his excitement. This proved to be an easy task, as anything pertaining to Jack and his happiness brought you joy. “You did! That was great, Jack!” You praised. He took a step towards you and pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a grateful embrace. Just like that day in the warehouse, you found yourself easing into his arms without a second thought. You slumped against him and pressed your face into his neck, glad to simply bathe in his presence and nothing more. The light of the moon cascaded down upon the pair of you, casting a line of white over the surface of the water. You trailed your eyes down the path of moonlight until your gaze rested on the still rippling reflection of your embrace. A smile settled itself on your lips, and you allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

He wasn’t supposed to run off. He was supposed to stay with the group. Where did he go? Why did he run off? Why did he run off?

Your panicked gaze scanned over your wooded surroundings in hopes of spotting the familiar nephilim, but it was to no avail. This hunt was lasting longer than it was supposed to. The last rays of the day were disappearing and the streams of sunlight that once ran through the treetops were quickly being replaced by a shroud of dark night sky.

A scream of his name bubbled up in your throat, and it took everything in you to force it back down and continue your quiet search. You could hardly even hear the shuffling of the rest of the team around you over the pounding of your heart in your ears. You tightened your grip on the handle of your gun, hovering your pointer finger over the trigger in case of an emergency. The bullets loaded into the gun wouldn’t do much good against the wendigo lurking somewhere in those woods, but you held on to the hope that you would be able to distract the thing long enough to molotov the son of a bitch.

“I just don’t understand why he would go off on his own like that,” you muttered aloud, voice audibly shaking with unease. Dean let out a sigh.

“You know how the kid has been lately. He hasn’t felt the same since he came back without his mojo. He’s probably trying to prove he’s still valuable to the team,” the older hunter explained. He kept his voice as quiet as possible so as not to disturb the bloodthirsty monster hiding in the shadows, but even at such a low volume his baritone seemed to echo endlessly through the trees. You winced at the idea of the wendigo perched atop one of the many branches looming overhead, simply listening to your conversation and waiting for the right time to strike.

You let out a frustrated huff. “He doesn’t have to prove a thing. We all know he’s a valuable asset to the team. Plus, he’s family.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Sam nod his head, his chin length hair swaying with his movements. “Of course we know that, but I don’t think he’s trying to prove it to us. He’s doing this to prove it to himself.”

Your heart constricted at that. Jack didn’t believe he was capable without his powers, and now he was risking his life to make a point to himself. You swallowed the rising lump in your throat and blinked away the sting of would-be tears. This wasn’t the time to get emotional.

Your search seemed fruitless, and soon enough you found yourself unable to see past a few feet in the darkened woods. Castiel’s eyes shone a bright blue, the only light you could make out in the otherwise almost pitch black night. The moon provided little comfort from its place shrouded behind the tops of the trees. A chilling wind swept through the forest floor, sending an unnerving chill down your spine.

“Can you see anything, Cas?” You asked the angel, whose eyes flickered back and forth across the landscape. He furrowed his brow in frustration.

“I can’t find any signs of Jack’s presence. No trail of footprints, no broken branches, nothing to indicate where he might have gone.”

This answer was unhelpful, but exactly what you expected. Jack might be practically human now, but he isn’t a fool. He knows how to cover his tracks like the best of them. Castiel continued to examine the terrain, being the only one of the four of you who could still manage to see. Meanwhile, you followed close behind and tuned your ears in to listen for anything suspicious. It didn’t go over your head that there was still a ravenous wendigo prowling around, and three blinded hunters would surely be a tempting meal to the beast. If it wasn’t stalking Jack, then you had no doubts that its eyes were on you. To be entirely honest, you weren’t sure which option made your stomach turn more.

You had just taken another step forward when you heard the scream. Jack’s voice. Undeniably, that was Jack’s voice. “Help!” He sobbed, the piercing sound bouncing off the trees. “Please help me!”

It took less than a second for you to turn and dash in the direction of the disturbance. The cries of your friends behind you, begging you to stop were drowned out in favor of pushing all of your energy forward. A hand made a grab for your jacket. You yanked the material away in one smooth motion.

Once a set of fingers wrapped around your elbow and pulled backwards, that was when the world came flooding back to your senses. Your body tumbled to the cold dirt floor. Your limbs scrambled to right yourself and continue on, but you were ultimately stopped by a pair of arms curling around your waist and lifting you up and away.

“Sam, let go of me!” You pleaded as you continued to thrash in his hold. His grip only tightened. “Sam, please! I need to save him!”

“I can’t let you do that!” His voice sounded pained, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at that point.

“Why not?” You hissed through your teeth. Frustrations were mounting and anger bubbled up deep within your chest. “We can’t just leave him! He’s gonna die, I can’t lose him! We can’t lose him!”

“God, this is like trying to keep Jack from barging into that warehouse to save them all over again,” Dean muttered. His hands worked to keep you still, and your legs worked double time to kick him away. “Dammit, stop that!”

“No! Let me go!”

“(Y/N), have you forgotten what we’re hunting in the first place?” Castiel butted in. “This is a wendigo, their mimicry of human voices is perfect. We can’t trust anything we hear!” His tone begged you to understand. It told you how upset the situation made him as well. The amount of pain he felt from being unable to save the boy he sees as a son was clearly audible. And it made you even angrier.

“Sam, I’m sorry about this.”

A pause. “Wait, what?”

Without another word, you threw your elbow back to meet his chin. His hold on you released instantly, and as soon as your feet touched the ground, you were off. You could no longer hear their shouts. You couldn’t hear the pounding of your feet against the leaves and branches littered beneath your boots. You couldn’t hear your heaving breaths. All that registered in your mind was the pumping of the blood in your ears and the memories of Jack’s cry for help. Maybe it was the wendigo, but if it was, then it knew Jack. And now you had no doubt in your mind that it planned to go after Jack first. Maybe you were running straight into the monster’s trap, but if there was even the slightest chance that you could kill this thing before it set a claw on Jack Kline, you were going to take it.

Your search brought you to the mouth of a cave. All you could make out was the rock’s shape around a gaping, pitch black hole. Carefully, you tucked your gun in the waistband of your pants and replaced it with your lighter in one hand and your homemade molotov bottle in the other. In a few quick flicks the lighter sparked to life. Upon waving the flame over the ground outside the cave, a few old splotches of blood became very apparent, and your hunter instincts kicked into overdrive. This was the wendigo’s lair. There was no doubt about that.

You took silent steps into the cave. The humid air held the unmistakable scent of rotten flesh and the metallic tang of blood, new and old. You swallowed down the bile that threatened to creep up your throat and continued on. The shake that previously overtook your hands was long gone now, replaced by the deadly, steady accuracy of your rage.

Your venture took you deeper and deeper into the cavern. The farther in you got, the heavier the stench became in your nose, and it took all you had not to gag on each breath. The air was stale and the ground was just damp enough to utter a soft squish each time your boots sunk into the dirt. The cave took a sharp turn, and you pressed your back against the wall before swinging out around the corner with your lighter and bottle outstretched and at the ready. What you saw, however, wasn’t the wendigo, but a clearly winded Jack Kline pressed against the wall where the cave hits a dead end.

His eyes met yours and instantly you saw the fear filling his body. “No, you shouldn’t be here!” He cried out, struggling to his feet with one hand planted firmly on the rock wall.

Your jaw clenched at the sight of crimson staining his left pant leg, the denim clearly torn where the wendigo must have slashed at him to immobilize him. “Where is it?” You growled out. Jack opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short when the sound of skittering claws rang from behind you. You turned around in just enough time to see the beast swipe a hand at you. It sent you flying into the far wall of the space. Your grip on the bottle and lighter tightened as your back slammed against the stone. Pain exploded in your side, and only once you felt the blood soaking into your shirt did you realize it was coming from the large gash along your torso.

The wendigo let out a ferocious snarl as it stalked towards Jack, seeming ready for a meal now that it had stocked up on a new victim to keep for later. Blood trickled down your neck from where the back of your head had connected with the wall, and the pounding sensation sent your vision swirling and fading in and out. You couldn’t see much, but from what you made out of the creature raising its claws to strike Jack down, you were ready to jump into action.

One flick of the lighter seemed to be enough this time, and you barely gave the cloth enough time to catch the fire before you screamed out, “Duck!” and hurled both objects, molotov and lighter combined, in the direction of the monster. Jack dived towards you to the best of his ability with an injured leg. The molotov connected with the wendigo’s calf, the glass shattering and allowing the fire to spread to consume its entire frame.

You closed your eyes against the sudden light and turned to face Jack, who now sat next to you against the wall. Your hand reached out to instinctively cover Jack’s face from the flames, only to find that he, too, had turned to face you. You kept your hand in place on the side of his head. Your fingers curled into his hair and your palm pressed against his cheek in an effort to ground yourself.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to take in Jack’s features. The flickering orange flames illuminated his tousled mop of waves. With the fire placed where it was, only one side of the boy’s face was visible, but from what you could see, his skin was blotched with a layer of dirt. Some patches of skin were also coated in the telltale crimson of blood, while others were tinted a deep purple with an oncoming bruise. A distinct line ran down from his eye to curve around his chin, the path his tears continued to take along his cheek. His eyes fluttered open, a red tint surrounding the blue of his iris. The orange glow of the fire flickered in his glassy pupils. His eyes were wide and his pupils were blown like a frightened animal. His bottom lip pouted out, only adding to the image of a scared little boy being built in your mind.

His frame shook so heavily that you could see the shadow behind him quivering as well. He was scared - no, he was terrified. He was beaten, bruised, clawed, and thrown around, but all you could see was that he was alive. And in a moment of absolute clarity and overwhelming relief, you did the only thing you could think to do. You placed your palms against his cheeks and pulled him towards you into a kiss. He let out a gasp against your lips, but melted into the kiss only a moment later. He shuffled as close to you as he possibly could. His hands clutched desperately at your shirt and tugged every so often as if he wanted you even closer. Your hands drifted to the back of his head and your fingers curled through his hair. You gripped at the roots with just enough force to remind him that you were there, and you weren’t going anywhere.

By the time you both broke away from each other, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were stood over the flaming wendigo. The brothers’ chests heaved with the exertion of their run, and each of the three men wore expressions of mixed relief and understanding. Your cheeks flushed at the sight of the bruise forming on Sam’s chin. Dean let out a huff and shook his head to remind you that you would be getting a lecture for what you had done, but kept his speaking tone soft and clear of judgement for the time being.

“Come on, lovebirds. Let’s get you two patched up.”

You lounged lazily across the couch in what Dean had deemed his “Dean cave.” You had mentioned your favorite movie the other day in passing, and Jack had seemed quite interested in the subject, having never seen the film before. When Sam and Dean went out on a local salt and burn with just the pair of them, you decided that would be the perfect chance for you to introduce the ex-nephilim to your world. After mentioning the idea to Castiel and wondering if he had seen it before, he told you that he knew about it from the information Metatron gave him, but held no personal memories or thoughts on the subject. He seemed glad to join yourself and Jack on your movie night, and you were more than prepared to have a nice, calm night with your favorite celestial beings.

The room was dark except for the soft glow of the DVD’s menu screen on the flat screen Dean had splurged on a few weeks prior. You were grateful that you no longer had to crowd around someone’s laptop for movie nights, and the dedicated room for relaxation was a necessary add in to the bunker after everything you all had to deal with. You fiddled with the remote in one hand, your arm spread out towards the TV as it hung off the couch.

Castiel sat upright in one of the comfy old recliners placed on either side of the couch. His hands rested on his knees and a soft smile settled on his lips. His cobalt gaze swept over you in amusement and a bit of wonder. “(Y/N),” he addressed into the silent air. As usual in these situations, he kept his tone soft.

You looked up at him, your vision of him upside down from your position. “What’s up, Cas?”

“I was just wondering,” he began, fiddling with his thumbs. “We haven’t had a talk in a while.”

You paused a moment to think. “We have, Cas. We usually have a talk at least once a week. We had one a couple days ago, right?” You reminded him. Your brows were furrowed in confusion. Castiel gave a quick nod.

“Yes, I suppose, but I more so meant we haven’t had a talk about a specific subject in quite a while.” His rephrasing cleared up little in your mind, but from the look in his eyes, he was expecting you to come to some sort of understanding.

Your eyes wandered the room as you continued to rack your brain for a clue. “Do I get any hints? Am I allowed to phone a friend?” You joked casually.

Now it was Cas’s turn to furrow his brows. His gave his signature head tilt as he spoke. “I… don’t see how calling a colleague might help in this situation, but…” He trailed off and shook his head in dismissal. “What I mean is, you seem to have lost interest in the lore on human souls. I simply find it peculiar how you have stopped asking about wishing to see them and wondering what they look like so suddenly. I hope you know that you are not bothering me when you ask things like that.” His tone held an apologetic edge to it, as if afraid that he had seemed to disinterested and had scared you off of the subject. A smile found its way onto your face at the thought. Castiel, angel of the lord, worried he made you feel bad about your interests and curiosity.

“No, Cas, I know. You’re always very patient with me during our talks, and I really appreciate that. It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I kinda… understand it now?” You tried to clear things up, but it came out sounding more like a question than an answer.

“How so?”

You gave a vague shrug. You dropped the remote onto your stomach and picked absentmindedly at your nails, trying to hide the crimson blush creeping up your cheeks in the low light available. Around anyone else you would be certain that they could not see such a thing, but you knew better with Castiel. His vision that night in the woods was proof enough that he could see in the dark without issue. “I guess I just… I understand how you can just… tell what someone is like through something as simple as a light. I understand that feeling of looking at something and understanding how it’s feeling. I used to think that a light couldn’t possibly be enough, that a soul can’t be made up of something so simple, but I guess I figured out how complex it can really be. Complex, but still… really beautiful. And good. And pure. And sure, maybe sometimes it’s a little scary, but at the end of the day, it stands for power and beauty and life, and that’s pretty amazing.” You trailed off of your tangent with a cough. Your cheeks were on fire, and you could practically feel Cas’s gaze burning holes in your head. “Or, like, something like that. I guess. Whatever, it’s not important.”

The angel opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment Jack opened the door with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn in hand and a bright smile on his face. He raised the bowl in celebration. “I didn’t burn it this time!” He cheered in victory. You grinned.

“That’s great, Jack! Now get over here, and let’s get this movie started.” You raised your head up just enough so he could sit down before dropping it back down onto his lap. He placed the bowl on the coffee table to free up his hands so he could begin running them through your hair.

You wouldn’t notice the way Castiel’s gaze lingered on you both for the better portion of the movie. You wouldn’t notice the way he picked out each little social cue Dean had taught him about romance all those years ago. You wouldn’t notice the pleased smile that would tug at the corners of his lips when he realized that this was real. But you would notice the way Jack’s face would change with each twist of the plot. You would notice the way the dull light from the TV cast a perfectly cut shadow to define his jawline. You would notice how different he looked in the different color palettes present in different scenes. You would notice how the shadows across his face danced and shifted each time he would lean down to plant a random kiss on your lips, cheek, or forehead. You would always notice these things, because that was Jack Kline’s soul. Every little flicker of the light across his skin, every shadow along the curves of his body, every glint in his eyes, everything you saw was a part of who he is. And in your eyes, who he is is the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen.

2K notes · View notes

soft-baby-dobrik · 6 years ago

Text

sucker // david dobrik

a/n: okay so this was a request and i have never done an imagine like this BUT IMA GIVE IT A SHOT AND HOPE IT TURNS OUT GOOD AND WHAT THE ANON WANTED!!!! also the idea is actually SO CUTE I LOVE

REQUEST: Can you make one with David in it where it’s inspired by the new Jonas Brothers song “Sucker”?

summary: david is whipped for you and everyone jokes him for it, but he isn’t ashamed.

masterlist

requests are open

follow my instagram (david page) <3

David had done everything in his power at all times to treat you like a princess and make you feel wanted always. Anything you needed or wanted, he would do everything he could to give it to you or get it for you. The fact you never took advantage of this was what made him love you even more. Everyone saw this and knew he was head over heels for you. Some would say blinded by his love, but no one described it that way because you were the most caring and loving girlfriend to him. Truth of the matter was, he loved spoiling you. If you needed anything, even the dumbest thing, David was there as soon as he could be with it. As much as everyone thought it was adorable, they had to joke him for it, it’s the Youtuber way.

So many comments and jokes were made, all varying in degree. David would just laugh it off always, or roll his eyes. Being his girlfriend, you saw all the footage of the boys teasing him and joking him about how whipped he was for you. He never denied it, because he knew he was. There was no question that he would go to the ends of the Earth for you.

We go together

Better than birds of a feather, you and me

We change the weather, yeah

I'm feeling heat in December when you're 'round me

With you, it was so easy. Everything came easy. The smiles, the laughs, the happiness, the love all came without effort. From the day he met you, he knew he wanted you, and you felt the same way. It was so easy and natural with him and you both clicked instantly. The whole group tried to set you two up, and before you knew it, David took you on a sort of date and next thing you knew, he kissed you outside of the restaurant. It was a spur of the moment because he saw you laugh loudly and you both stopped for a moment and he was so close to you. If he overthought it, he would have chickened out so he did it with no thought. Both of you were shocked, but you kissed him back immediately. That was just the beginning.

I've been dancing on top of cars and stumbling out of bars

I follow you through the dark, can't get enough

You're the medicine and the pain, the tattoo inside my brain

And, baby, you know it's obvious

No one had to tell you David cared about you. He made it known every moment of everyday. Whether it was through his sweet words or actions, he showed that he loved you. In his eyes, you were the most important thing and his number one priority. When you came into the friend group, David’s heart was mending. He told you multiple times and made multiple jokes on how he was never going to find love and questions if it existed. You were the one that sat by his side through it and made him laugh. His heart would beat out of his chest in your prescience and yours did the same. Both of your feelings were obvious for one another. Unintentionally, he began to fall for you. At first he did not even notice it, and before he knew it, he would have to bite on his bottom lip to stop his urge to kiss you. You had saved him from keeping his heart off limits. You showed him that love is real and that he could be loved and cared for.

I'm a sucker for you

You say the word and I'll go anywhere blindly

I'm a sucker for you, yeah

Any road you take, you know that you'll find me

I am a sucker for all the subliminal things

No one knows about you (About you), about you (About you)

And you're making the typical me break my typical rules

It's true, I'm a sucker for you, yeah

David was a complete sucker for you. Every part of you made him weak and he could not control himself around you. His heart was off limits and the second you came in and you began to mend it, he broke his rule of staying out of a relationship. From the beginning, he wanted to know everything about you, the good, the bad, and the hurt. He listened to your own fears and made sure to diminish any worry you had, just like you did for him. It was his job to make you feel happy and treat you like the princess you were. Many guys had ruined you and your own heart before David met you, and he made it his job to fix that.

He had done everything he could to make you happy and comfortable in your relationship together, you knew that. How determined he was to make you happy constantly was what made you love him.

Today was like any other day with you lounging around at David’s house. Natalie was there and so were a couple others. You had taken a nap and did not know people were coming over, so when you walked out in one of David’s oversized sweaters, you padded down the hallway. There he sat on the couch with a blanket covering his lap with Zane and Todd on the couches. Your cheeks flushed since you did not have pants on, but you were not aware of company. David’s smile shown beautifully as he saw you.

“Hi, beautiful,” he said as you hurried over to sit next to him. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around you to pull you close to him after you got under the blanket. There was a slight chill in the house, making you shiver.

“Hi,” you mumbled, cuddling into his warm chest, still slightly sleepy.

“Are you cold? Do you want me to get another blanket?” he asked, worriedly. Todd and Zane snickered at him.

“Or some tea to warm you? Or maybe I’ll buy you a $1000 gucci heated blanket!” Zane joked, making David roll his eyes with a smile and you giggle.

“Dude, you’re so fucking whipped,” Todd laughed, looking over to him. “I bet if she even mentioned liking another car you’d buy it for her right now.” You laughed a little since a situation similar to this had happened, making you smile at your sweet boyfriend. With the thought in mind, you pressed a small kiss to his cheek, making him return the smile.

“You’re right. I would do just about anything for y/n,” David responded, confidently.

“Bro you are so pussy whipped it is actually kind of sad,” Todd laughed, a somewhat joking tone in his words. David’s normal demeanor changed. What usually would be a witty remark with a laugh, was now a tense silence.

“You know you guys kinda give me shit for this all the time,” David said, annoyed. “And I don’t know why. She is my girlfriend. She is the best to me and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to spoil her and make her happy,” David continued, as you traced patterns on the back of his hand, awkwardly.

“We’re not saying it’s bad. You just do anything she wants, like without her asking for things,” Zane laughed. Clearly, both him and Todd were teasing him about being whipped for you, like it was less manly of David.

“You do realize that, I don’t ask for him to do it, but it shows that he’s thoughtful and cares. He listens to me when i talk about stupid things and next thing I know he is surprising me with it. That’s not what it’s all about, but it is beyond sweet and very fucking attractive that he cares like this,” you said, sweetly. All of them knew you had no cruel intentions and nobody was offended.

“Look, I know I’m whipped as fuck for y/n, but I fucking love it,” David beamed. “You guys don’t get it. When I do something, even something small and stupid to you guys, she gets all smiley and happy and it makes me happy. And the sex is even better when she’s happy,” David smiled, cheekily at the end.

“David!” you exclaimed, laughing a little. His head ducked down to press a kiss to your forehead. Zane and Todd laughed loudly.

“You’re such a pussy,” Todd laughed, directing it to David.

“Maybe I am, but guess who’s getting more pussy than you,” David shot back, pulling you into his lap. Zane and you both laughed as Todd mocked being offended. “Joke me all you want, but I’m not about to stop spoiling her because you guys think I’m over the top. I mean, look at her, who wouldn’t wanna spoil her like the princess she is,” he continued and you shook your head.

“Maybe we’re all just depressed and lonely,” Zane jokingly spoke. Every one chuckled as you laid your head in the crook of his neck.

“Or maybe you guys are just sickeningly cute together,” Todd shrugged, making you grin.

“I mean, have you seen David? He’s beyond cute,” you giggled. Todd made a disgusted noise before everything settled down and they continued to watch the movie. David had his arms around you, lazily.

His head bent down to whisper, “I am whipped as fuck for you and proud of it.”

“I am crazily in love with you and proud of it,” you whispered back as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“And also you in my sweater right now is hot as fuck,” he added, leaning to press a soft kiss to your neck. You bit back a smile as you leaned into him to watch the movie, but really you were just watching David.

a/n: so like idk exactly what this is and i’m sorry??? i feel like i failed but it’s cool it’s fine. and i typed this on my phone bc i started it and tumblr wouldn’t let me edit it on my computer, only on my mobile app so rip.

325 notes · View notes

loljulie · 6 years ago

Text

flicker; {006} the tide

(okay so this is part may feel a bit slow? idk maybe it’s just me bc im overly critical of my work lol. i was going to write another scene into it but i was already hitting a large word count so count on the next part being more crazy. i went to see niall horan last niGHT and i’m still recovering tbh. i’m so happy to see more and more people become interested in this fanfic and just in general want to be apart of it more! thank you so much for all that <3)

genre: detroit: become human

deviant!connor x reader

word count: 2850

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓　 d̯̱̝̠̘̙͙e̼̯̣̗͈͇̳v̥̗̭̹̫ia̘̝͔͙͙̜ͅn͈t͇͓̦̻s̙̗͉̜͕ 　▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

@dragonempress123

@itstrashleydude

@chisooyaaa

@help-i-need-a-social-life

@shadows-echoes

@sygin

@mavvsmm

Whiteness surrounded you on all sides as you rested against Hank’s car. Your first order of business that day was to visit Elijah Kamski, who lived in almost the middle of nowhere. The bleak, winter forest around you was undeniably breathtaking and serene, but your eyes were trained on a snow-covered hill as your mind wandered. A few feet from you, Hank was pacing back and forth.

It had been a day since Stratford Tower, and there was no shortage of public opinion and outcry. Though it was unspoken, you had the feeling that Hank realized there was no stopping the deviants. Yet, the three of you continued on with the investigation, all unsure of what to even do next.

The car door creaked next to you, pulling you from your thoughts. Connor stood by you, and offered a small smile. He had been at the foremost of your mind recently, as you constantly worried about his deviancy becoming known and the future of deviants.

The two of you approached Hank and began walking to the front door of the sleek, modern residence. Hank and Connor spoke to each other, though the nature of their conversation was lost on you as you instead peered out at the snowy dock and frozen water.

Hank rang the doorbell. A playful, 3-toned tune could be heard from inside. The three of you waited for a few seconds before Hank grew impatient and reached for the doorbell again. As he was about to press the button, the door suddenly opened, revealing a beautiful female android. She was silent as she waited for somebody to speak.

“Hi, uh,” Hank started, breaking the silence. “I’m, er, Lieutenant Hank Anderson. This is Lieutenant (Y/N) (Y/L/N). We’re from the Detroit Police Department, here to see Mr. Elijah Kamski.”

“Please, come in,” the female android smiled and moved out of the doorway to let you all in. She closed the door behind you and notified you that she would let Mr. Kamski know you were there.

You followed Hank and sat down in one of the waiting chairs to the left of the room. Connor walked around, seeming to take interest in a photo on the far side of the wall.

“Nice girl, nice place,” Hank stated, as he looked around the room. “Guess androids haven’t been a bad thing for everybody…”

A few minutes passed by before the door the female android disappeared into re-opened. She stood off to the side and smiled at the three of you.

“Elijah will see you now.”

You got up from your chair and walked into the next room. You were slightly shocked to see a bright red pool take up the center of the room, with Kamski still in it. Two more female androids, looking identical to the one who let you in, were by the side of the pool.

Once Kamski was out of the pool, Hank did the honors of introducing you three.

“I’m Lieutenant Anderson, this is Lieutenant (Y/L/N),” he gestured between the two of you, then to Connor. “And this is Connor.”

“What can I do for you, Lieutenants?” Kamski asked, glancing between you and Hank.

“Sir, we’re investigating deviants,” You answered, causing him to focus on you. “We know you left CyberLife years ago, but we were hoping you could tell us something we don’t know.”

You wondered what it was you were hoping to get from Kamski exactly. A better understanding of deviancy? What rA9 was? Part of you pessimistically thought it wouldn’t even matter what you found out; that there was nothing else you could do for the investigation.

“Deviants…” Kamski started. “Fascinating, aren’t they? Perfect beings, with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will...”

You had to stop yourself from glancing at Connor. You briefly wondered what it was like for him to hear all of this from the man that created him.

“Machines are so superior to us, confrontation was inevitable. Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall,” Kamski continued. You exchanged a look with Hank. Kamski scoffed lightly. “Isn’t it ironic?”

Suddenly, Connor spoke. “We need to understand how androids become deviants. Do you know anything that could help us?”

You allowed yourself to look at him, relieved to see him wearing the mask of a machine so well.

“All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics...” Kamski said. You wanted to roll your eyes. “Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?”

“Listen I didn’t come here to talk philosophy,” Hank interrupted, much to your satisfaction. “The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that will be helpful, or we will be on our way.”

Kamski didn’t look at Hank, instead choosing to focus on Connor. The way he watched him, as if scrutinizing every inch of his face to look for any deviation, made you nervous.

“What about you, Connor?” He asked, stepping closer to him. Your heartbeat picked up. “Whose side are you on?”

“I have no side,” Connor answered, his voice level and calm. “I was designed to stop deviants and that is what I intend to do.”

You watched as Kamski chuckled softly. “Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say… but you...”

Kamski took a step closer to Connor, stopping about a foot away from him. His voice was low as he continued. “What do you really want?”

You froze, heart racing as Connor thought of an answer. Kamski and Connor’s eyes were locked in a stare, as is analyzing the other.

“I don’t want anything. I am a machine,” Connor responded. If you didn’t know any better, the neutral, emotionless way he responded would’ve fooled you. Kamski kept his eyes on Connor’s for a moment, before calling his android over.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing test,” he walked over to the blonde android, and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Mere formality, simple question of algorithms and computing capacity.”

“What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy.” He was speaking to you and Hank now. You didn’t like where this was headed. “I call it the ‘Kamski test’, it’s very simple, you’ll see.”

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” He rhetorically asked, gesturing toward his android. “One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife. Young… and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither.”

You looked at Hank, who gave you a confused stare. He shrugged his shoulders as Kamski went on.

“But what is it, really? A piece of plastic imitating a human?” He turned around to the desk behind him and opened a drawer. “Or… a living being with a soul?”

He held his hands up as he revealed a gun in his right hand. Then, he placed a hand on the android’s shoulder, and she kneeled down. He approached Connor, offering him the gun.

“It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor.” The gun was placed in his hand, filling you with a sense of dread. You had a feeling you knew how Connor would respond, and you were nervous at what it would cause.

“Destroy this machine, and I’ll tell you all I know. Or spare it, if you feel it’s alive, but you’ll leave here without having learnt anything from me.”

You didn’t dare to speak, afraid that your voice would waver if you did so. Something had to be said to stop this ridiculous experiment.

“Okay, I think we’re done here,” Hank declared, and you felt a wave of relief hit you. “Come on, Connor. Let’s go. Sorry to get you outta your pool.”

“What’s more important to you, Connor?” Kamski’s question interrupted Hank, keeping you rooted to your spot. You noticed Connor’s LED turn yellow and flash. “Your investigation or the life of this android?”

“Decide who you are. An obedient machine… or a living being, endowed with free will.”

“That’s enough! Connor, we’re leaving,” Hank commanded. You began to think that Hank might be worried, too, of what Connor would do. Maybe he was hoping Connor wouldn’t pull the trigger; maybe he was hoping to see something human in him.

“Pull the trigger.” Kamski urged. You looked at the blonde android, who was watching the fate of her life be decided before her eyes. Something stirred inside of you.

“Connor,” you interjected quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at you. You shook your head slightly. “Don’t.”

You knew Connor wouldn’t pull the trigger in any normal situation, but the need to hide his deviancy might have been making him uncertain of how to respond. With your reassurance, he pulled the gun away from the android’s face and handed it to Kamski.

“Fascinating,” Kamski breathed out as he grabbed the gun from Connor. “CyberLife’s last chance to save humanity… is itself a deviant.”

Connor couldn’t meet Kamski’s stare for a few moments. You were proud of his decision, but knew that it had just cause a crack in his disguise.

“I’m… I’m not a deviant,” Connor tried to articulate, but you knew that Kamski wouldn’t accept it.

“You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission,” Kamski let the android stand back up, him hovering over her. “You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy.”

Kamski glanced at you, and for a moment you thought you saw a knowing look in his eyes. You did your best to maintain a steady composure, but the smirk he put on made it difficult to do so.

“A war is coming. You’ll have to choose your side. Will you betray your own people or stand up against your creators?”

“What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?”

“Why didn’t you shoot?” Hank’s question broke the silence that had fallen between the three of you as you walked back toward his car. Connor turned around, and you watched as he desperately tried to save the facade of a machine.

“I just saw that girl’s eyes, and I couldn’t, that’s all...”

“You’re always saying you’d do anything to accomplish your mission. That was our chance to learn something and you let it go,” Hank’s voice wasn’t angry or disappointed. You knew all too well the different inflections in his tones and what they meant. You could tell his statements were searching for something from Connor, something you knew he already possessed.

“Yeah, I know what I should’ve done. I told you I couldn’t,” Connor was struggling to hide his true self. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Hank looked at you, and you did your best to look as surprised at Connor’s reaction as you could. It wasn’t easy, especially because you really wished you could hug Connor and tell him he made the right choice.

“Maybe he did the right thing,” you offered to Hank, hoping he would accept it and move on. His stare became more thoughtful, and he shrugged.

“Maybe he did.”

The three of you got back into the car, wordlessly listening to Hank’s heavy metal music the entire drive back to the police station.

You leaned against Hank’s desk, fuming at the news Captain Fowler had just delivered to you. The FBI would be taking over the case, meaning Hank would return to homicide and you’d be back on menial cases. Worst of all, Connor would be sent back to CyberLife. Hank, who was sitting in his chair, wasn’t taking the news any better.

“We could’ve solved this case,” Connor expressed from beside you, the frustration obvious in his voice. “We just needed more time.”

Hank didn’t comment. Instead, he turned his chair around to face you and Connor, and brought up another area of concern for you. “So you’re going back to CyberLife?”

You were silent, yourself curious to know what would happen to Connor if things didn’t work out. “I have no choice... I’ll be deactivated and analyzed to find out why I failed.”

Your heart plummeted in your chest. Though you knew you would fight as hard as you could to avoid that fate for Connor, you knew that it was a possibility.

“What if we’re on the wrong side here?” Hank asked aloud. He nodded toward you. “Maybe (Y/N) was right. What if we’re just fighting against people who want to be free?”

Connor looked down at his hands. You breathed deeply, your mind working to figure out what your next move should be.

“Earlier at Kamski’s place… you put yourself in that android’s shoes. You showed empathy, Connor,” Hank alleged. You thought you saw Connor tense up. “Empathy is a human emotion.”

Before Connor could respond, you notice someone walk through the police station lobby. You rolled your eyes as you identified who it was.

“Here comes Perkins,” you declared with a sigh. Hank saw him and scoffed, his eyes filled with disdain. You scoffed. “They don’t waste any time at the FBI.”

“We can’t give up,” Connor’s voice was filled with urgency. You looked back at him. “I know the answer is in the evidence we collected. If Perkins takes it, it’s all over.”

“There’s no choice. You heard Captain Fowler, we’re off the case.” Hank countered. Connor suddenly pushed himself off of Hank’s desk, his voice sounding desperate.

“You’ve got to help me, Hank,” Connor pleaded, “I need more time so I can find a lead in the evidence we collected. I know the solution is there.”

“Listen, Connor…” Hank raised his hand to stop Connor from his plea.

“If I don’t solve this case, CyberLife will destroy me. 5 minutes, please.”

The weight of Connor’s words seemed to hit Hank in that moment. He shared a glance with you, and you nodded your approval. He stood up from his chair, and leaned close to Connor.

“The key to my basement is on my desk. Get a move on, I can’t distract him forever.”

You watched as Hank went over to Perkins, inciting a scene with him using some very choice words. Your eyes met Connor’s, noticing how anxious he looked. You both knew that his fate depended on him finding answers down in the evidence room. You followed him to the double doors that led into the evidence storage.

“I’ll keep a lookout out here,” you whispered. Connor nodded. He gave you one last look, as if afraid it might be the last time he saw your face. As he walked into the evidence room, you suddenly wished you had said more to him.

“Hello, (Y/N),” A voice called out to you, causing you to freeze. You watched as Gavin walked up to you, his eyes wandering to the doors behind you. “What’s the android doing in there?”

You felt your heart thump in your chest as you came up with an answer. “He’s just… logging in some of the evidence we still have left over. That’s all.”

Gavin nodded thoughtfully, before he made an attempt to open the door himself. Without thinking, you reached your hand and placed it on his to stop him. He raised an eyebrow at your gesture.

“Gavin, I-” you struggled to find some sort of explanation to your action. “Before you go in, I just wanted to ask you something.”

He dropped his hand from the door handle and nodded. “Anything for you.”

Your mind raced through dozens of options to take him away from the door. Finally, you settled on one you thought was reasonable. “Would you mind helping me pick a new window for my apartment? I have some images on my computer to choose from, and your opinion could help.”

Gavin smirked. “I’d probably have to see your apartment myself to know which would be a good fit.”

You suppressed a groan. Your attempt to pull him away from the door failed, but at least you were still keeping him out here for the time being.

“Lieutenant (Y/L/N)!”, a loud voice commanded. You turned your head to see Captain Fowler walking toward you, his facial features pulled into an angry expression. Shit.

“Yes, Captain?” you answered, hoping whatever he had to say would be short.

“I don’t understand the nerve of that man,” He exclaimed with a scoff. “Will you please go out there and talk some sense into Hank? He almost broke Perkins’ goddamn nose, and he’s about to lose his badge.”

You heard a faint chuckle from Gavin, which filled you with a heated rage momentarily.

“Maybe he just needs some time to cool off?” You offered, hoping the excuse would allow you to keep your post in front of the door.

“Yeah, or maybe a trip to the bar,” Gavin teased. If you hadn’t been trying to stay on his good side, you would’ve glared daggers at him.

“No, (Y/N), you go talk to him right now. You’re the only one he’ll lighten up to.” Captain Fowler ordered, and you sighed heavily before leaving the entrance to the evidence room. As you left, you heard the door to the evidence room open and close.

Shit.

#detroit become human fanfic #detroit: bh fanfic #connor x reader #rk800 x reader #detroit become human #flickerfanfic

54 notes · View notes

horansqueen · 7 years ago

Note

can you do a smut where niall and y/n are in a hotel the night before jingle ball? ni sees y/n in a cute VS pink silk robe with a bra and undies under after he works out from the gym and immediately gets turned on bc he didnt expect it?

I MIXED THESE 2 BLURB REQUESTS!!!!

okayyyy 3k. yep i went there. smut. idk if its too smutty tbh it never is too much for me so you tell me. the ending is meh (its almost 6 am and i wake up at 10am so im tired) and im sorry because i didnt proofread (when do i ever?). i didnt write it in “you” i wrote it in “i”… i hope it doesnt bother anyone. I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

I picked the bag from under the bed and took the silk light pink robe out of it, along with the panties and bra that matched. They were silk too and a nice mix of pink and black. I had fallen in love with this kit when I went to Victoria’s Secret in the afternoon and for some reason, I’ve let myself be persuaded that it was a good idea, but I would only be sure of it when I’d see my boyfriend’s reaction.

I quickly took the price tags off and stared at my purchase, laying on the hotel bed. I sighed low and nibbled on my bottom lip, feeling suddenly self-conscious. It didn’t look too bad at the store, but now that I stood naked in front of it, I had doubts.

I breathed in and glanced at the pillow before moving it and grabbing the handcuffs hiding under it. I had found it in Niall’s bag while I was searching for one of his shirts to wear and I was not sure what to think about it. We had discussed it a few times but I had no idea he actually went and bought them. If I was honest with myself, I was a bit annoyed that he didn’t ask me to go with him but I had thought about how he could ask me for forgiveness and that simple thought made me smile.

I was gonna do it. I grabbed the bra and put it on before doing the same with my panties and finally finished my outfit with the robe. It was semi-transparent and there was no way he wouldn’t notice it when he’d walk in.

I didn’t have to wait for too long, I heard the door open while I was still in the bathroom and when it finally closed, I stepped foot inside the room.

“Hey baby, it’s me!”

I watched him as he let his bag fall on the floor and ran his big hand through his damp hair. I held my breath at how good he always looked when he came back from working out, breathless and sweaty. Every single time, I wanted him to touch me. He grabbed the collar of his shirt and took it off, making me let out a short whimper that he probably didn’t even hear. The fabric slid against his sweaty chest and back and my heart fluttered at the sight.

“Missed me?” he asked, making me tilt my head slightly.

He had not looked at me yet and it suddenly made me nervous. Did I look ridiculous in this lingerie? Maybe it wouldn’t turn him on at all? I shook my head slightly to push these thoughts away. There was no reason for Niall not to like it.

“I did, in fact, miss you.”

He chuckled and his eyes finally met mine before traveling down my body. His smile fell and I held my breath, the only thing I could hear being my own heart beating hard against my rib cage.

“You…”

His lips parted and closed a few times and he finally breathed in deeply.

“Fuck.”

I watched his hand travel down to his shorts as he adjusted himself, his eyes still glued on me. The way he looked at me made me swallow hard but I felt better immediately.

“Why did you… How did you…” he stuttered. “I mean… fuck.”

I took a few step closer and nibbled on my bottom lip, still looking at him. He remained motionless, his eyes still roaming on me.

“I found something in your bag.” I just said, ignoring his incomplete questions. "We’re gonna have to use them.“

Tilting my head slightly, I pulled the hand i was hiding behind me to show him the handcuffs. His eyes moves from me to them and then back in my eyes.

“That night we discussed it… really made me want to try it.” he admitted with a sigh.

I nodded a bit, staring at them, and finally looked back in his eyes with a smile. His eyebrows raised and my grin got wider.

“We can try them.” I finally gave him, watching his lips curl. “But I think they’d look so much better on you.”

His breath caught in his throat and he coughed, almost choking. It made me laugh and slowly, I brought my hand to his sweaty chest and slid it down until his shorts.

“You love when I use you, don’t you?”

He looked down at me, motionless, as I kept playing with the hem of his shorts, a smirk now spread on my lips. He wouldn’t deny it, I knew it made him hard and the memories made me horny.

“I do.” he breathed out, just giving in to my proposition. “When you’re wearing this you can ask me anything.”

I chuckled but my smile fell when his hands moved to my waist. I took a step back and shook my head, making him frown. I took a few steps back until the bed and motioned for him to join me. He cleared his throat but I didn’t have to ask him twice. He sat down on the bed, right in the middle of it, and he let me handcuff him, twisting the cuffs around the pole of the bed.

“Comfortable?”

He was half laying and half sitting, leaning against the pillows, and i stared at him for a few seconds. He looked vulnerable and it made my heart skip a beat. It was the hottest thing I had seen in a while and i wanted to engrave this sight in my mind for says where he’d be in an other country.

Slowly, I got on the bed too and straddled him, staying on my knees. He stared at me as i took my robe off and let it fall next to the bed and his eyes traveled slowly to my bra and down to my panties.

“Fuck, petal, you’re killing me.”

I bit my bottom lip trying to hide the smile that lighted my face and he squirmed lightly under me. I let one of my fingers slide between my breasts and down my stomach, stopping between my legs and let my hand rub gently over my panties. His eyes never left my hand as it finally slipped inside.

“I wanna see how wet ya are.”

“Soon, but not now.”

I played with myself a few more seconds, feeling myself wet my own fingers. I could feel my whole body throb and slowly, i moved myself down on him, rubbing myself a few time over his clothed cock. Despite my panties and his shorts separating us, i felt his half erected cock press on my clit and let a very low whimper escape my lips.

I looked up quickly when I heard the sound of the handcuffs against the metal pole as he pulled on his wrists before to curse low.

“Baby, don’t do that, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

I bent down again, bringing my face closer to his and brushed my lips against his.

“This is gonna be long and painful.” I just whispered before to bring two of my fingers to his mouth, spreading my wetness on his bottom lip.

I smiled more when i saw his tongue slip on his lip, gathering my juice and bringing it back in his mouth to taste me.

“You want more?”

I didn’t wait for his answer and moved back on my knees, rubbing myself harder over my panties. I let my other hand run to my breasts, grabbing them over my bra as the fabric of my panties rubbed nicely on my clit. I moved my hips in motion with my hand and closed my eyes, hearing him curse low as I dripped more, soaking my panties quicker than I thought I would.

“Fuck baby now I can see how wet ya are.”

I didn’t have to look to know that my wetness had crossed the fabric of my panties, a darker spot now visible between my legs.

“I fucking want to touch you.”

I chuckled and shook my head again before to lick my lips.

“No.” Slowly I got up on the bed and moved up closer to his face. “I said I wanted to use you, remember?”

I didn’t have to explain anything to him. He looked up at me and i noticed the left corner of his lips move up before he nodded. I bent slightly, holding the pole of the bed with one hand while i maintained myself on the wall with the other. I felt his tongue over my panties, pressing gently on my clit, and my lips parted. I let him work on me for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of my panties rubbing against me again but after a while, I got more greedy. I let go of the wall to bring my hand between my legs, pushing my panties aside. I heard Niall groan low beneath me and pushed myself down even more, feeling his lips crush against my pussy.

His tongue slid on my folds to part them more before slipping in my pussy. My eyes fluttered close and i felt my knees getting weak as his tongue ran back up to reach my clit. He started sucking on it softly and I couldn’t stop the moan that came out of my lips.

“Oh god, Niall, make me cum.”

I ground my hips on his mouth, slowly at first and then harder as he alternated between licking and sucking me until an orgasm hit me. I closed my eyes tight as my fingers tightened around the pole and my body shook over his face. He sucked harder as i came on his lips and waited until my heartbeats went back almost to normal to move back down on my knees.

“Your mouth is amazing.” I whispered, my face very close to his.

I noticed a trace of my orgasm running down his chin and brought my tongue closer, collecting it before to kiss him deeply. He moaned low in my mouth and it made a shiver cross my body. I sat on him and rubbing myself hard against his now hard dick before to move back.

“These really need to go.” I said, looking at his shorts.

He grabbed the pole with both hands and got to help me take them off by move his ass up a bit and I decided to do the same with my panties, leaving them next to him on the pillow.

“Just in case you want to see what exactly you did to me.” I chuckled, making him smile.

“Oh I saw darling, I was VIP.”

This time, I laughed as I straddled one of his thighs, glancing down at his hard cock and trying to resist the urge to ride it now.

“Do you want me to take my bra off?”

“Fuck yes baby.”

“And how bad do you want me to ride your thigh?”

“More than fucking anything.”

I reached my back to unclasp my bra and push it away. We were both completely naked and I slipped one of my hands between my legs again to see how wet I was. I spread the mix of my orgasm and his spit more on my pussy before to press it down on his thigh.

“I love your thighs.” I admitted low. “So much.”

Slowly and gently, I started moving, feeling my folds part and my clit brush against his skin. I started going harder, holding myself on his still sweaty chest with one hand as the other grabbed one of my breasts hard.

“Fuck kitten, I wish i could slap those pretty tits of yours.”

I heard the handcuffs against the metal pole again and i glanced at his wrists as I rode his thigh roughly and fast, bringing myself closer to an other orgasm. I stopped myself and moved up on my knees, running my whole hand on my pussy and twitching at the feeling.

“I’m so fucking close already.”

“Do it baby.” he almost begged. “Ride my thigh again and cum on me.”

My eyes found his and I could see how painful it was for him to watch all this without being able to do anything about it, not even touch his own self. I looked at his throbbing cock and held my breath at the sight of a drop of precum on the tip of it. Without thinking, I sat back on his thigh but bent quickly on my side, grabbing his cock and running my tongue on his tip. He groaned louder and his thigh moved up a bit, pressing more against my inner thighs.

“Come on, Y/N, cum on my thigh.”

I kept my hand wrapped around his dick but started rubbing myself again on his thigh. I knew it was a matter of seconds before I soaked him and i closed my eyes, focusing on the amazing feeling of my clit on his skin.

“Oh my… fuck!”

My hand tightened around his cock and he hissed low as i shook over him, my other hand gripping the sheet next to me.

“I love watching you cum.”

My opened opened and I nibbled on my bottom lip before to move away and look at his now wet thigh.

“I think you deserve some sort of pleasure too, now.”

Still on my knees, i moved further on the bed to get between his legs and grabbed his dick with both hands, stroking it slowly. He looked at my face then at my hands and I finally brought my mouth back to his tip, sucking it between my lips. His hips jerked and i felt an inch of his cock slide in my mouth as he groaned louder.

“Please baby don’t stop.”

I took him deeper, until I felt the tip hit the back of my throat and he ground up again, making me choke slightly. The sound of him begging me to suck him made my heart skip a beat and my pussy throb again. I let my tongue run down his length, reaching his balls and taking one in my mouth, sucking on it gently as one of my hands was still tightly wrapped around the base of his dick. I slipped my tongue to his other ball and did the same, hearing him whisper a few curse words.

“If i could i’d push your head down on my cock again, petal.” he confessed. “Your throat feels amazing.”

With a chuckle, I took him deep again and watched his head fall back and his eyes close.

“Yes just like that.” he let out in a husky voice. “Fuck.”

I took his dick out to catch my breath after a few seconds and ran my lips on his length again, sucking gently before moving his foreskin even more and running my tongue under his glans, making him twitch again.

“Oh god, love, you have no idea how good that feels.” he groaned, opening his eyes to look at me. “I fucking want to cum.”

At these words, i moved away gently and he whined low in protest. I straddled it again and waited a few seconds to make him edge. I finally grabbing his dick and rubbed his tip on my clit a few times, making me realize I was still horny. I sat on his cock and it slipped easily inside me.

“Shit, i’ve been waiting for that.”

And I had too. Feeling his hard cock throb inside me was incredible and I took a few seconds to enjoy how perfectly he filled me.

“Baby please untie me.”

I sent him a smile but shook my head, putting my hands on his chest. I started riding him, both my arms pressing on my breasts and squeezing them as i felt his cock slither in and out of me. The sound of my wetness and out skin slapping together made me shiver and I started moaning louder. I rocked my hips around and he groaned, letting his head fall back slightly. I felt him shake beneath me and i knew he was cumming. The thought made me whimper and the sight of him reaching his orgasm brought me closer to mine. My hand flew between my legs and I rubbed my clit as i kept moving over him, riding his orgasm and getting a third one myself.

“Oh Niall fuck!”

This time, it made my whole body throb and i quivered for a few seconds. I bit my lip hard until it started hurting and panted low, trying to catch my breath.

“Oh my god…”

We remained in silence for a few seconds until i finally opened my eyes and noticed he was staring at me.

“Move up, baby.” he asked softly. “Let me see.”

With a smirk, I moved up and looked down as his cum dripped down from my pussy to his lower stomach. I dipped a finger in it and brought it to my mouth, sucking on it.

“Clean me baby yea?”

With a small nod, i bent down and felt one of my nipples brush against his cum, making me shiver slightly. I stuck my tongue out and ran it on his stomach to lick his orgasm.

“Fuck you look hot.”

We stared at each other for a while as i tasted him and with a sigh of well-being, I moved off of him and reached for his wrists, untying him. He brought his hands back to him and rubbed his wrists as i tilted my head.

“Did it hurt?” I asked, slightly worried.

“No it’s okay, I just really wanted to touch you.” he chuckled, sending me a smile.

“Well, those handcuffs were an amazing purchase, Nee.” I said, half-joking, letting out a short laugh.

“And the lingerie was an even better one, darling.”

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan blurb #niall horan oneshot #niall horan writing #blurb #my fanfics #if you read and like and reblog ilysm #anonymous

361 notes · View notes

professional-anti · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter Eight: Weapon of Choice

Heyyyyy!! Sorry, life has been cray, and it’s never gonna change, unfortunately. But guys, dw, I am dedicated. Also, weirdly, doing this has made me appreciate books even more? It’s so much fun to talk abt books, and I learn so much, even if it’s a book I hate. Okay, getting started (pray for me):

We last left off with Clary jumping thru the surprise door, like one does. Jace lands on top of her, yay, OTP moment, gag me. There’s a nice little detail where “Clary coughed hair (not her own) out of her mouth” which kind of captures the chaos and would be cute if it were an actual good ship. I hate when that happens. Jace criticizes Clary, FINALLY for a valid reason.

It turns out they’re at Luke’s house. Oh, classic, he lives in Williamsburg, the gentrified hipster paradise. Where else would a man who wears flannel live? Even more classic, he lives behind a bookstore. Clare is obviously one of those heavy-handed authors who has exactly two professions for her Intellectual Men™: bookseller and evil Giles.

I’m going to shake Clary. She doesn’t know why they’re here, despite having thought “I want to go where my mom would have gone” right before jumping. Like, bitch??? Do you have a brain? I’m cryingfff

Clary decides she wants to leave, even though there’s cleary something super sketch abt Luke. He’s so obviously protecting her, so he must know something, right? Well, Clary rubs her two brain cells together and decides, nope, nothing to see here! Time to go home!

Jace, being reasonable for once, is like, yo, maybe we should stay. They run into Simon, so you know there’s gonna be Dramaz. Jace and Simon apparently devolve into primordial wild dogs driven by the intense urge to fight for the girl dog so they can screw and produce puppies that are as annoying as they are. Here is what everyone is doing:

Clary is fixing Simon’s hair bc she’s a Woman Simon is pushing Clary’s hand away bc he’s Annoyed Jace is using his stele to file his nail bc he’s Not Paying Attention

There’s some horrible forced tension between Simon and Clary, where he’s all, “Clary, you ran away from me, I thought I and my dick upset you,” and Clary’s all, “Never, Simon, I love you,” and Simon cums. Not actually, instead he slut shames Clary:

“Yeah, well, you clearly also couldn’t be bothered to call me and tell me you were shacking up with some dyed-blond wanna-be goth you probably met at Pandemomonium”

On the one hand, draaaaag him, Simon!! Jace IS a peroxide blond who listens Evanescence (I almost wrote MCR before googling it and learning that if I wrote that, about a million punks would stream into my inbox in tears).

Simon’s eyes are “dark with suspicion”. which is just annoying. Yes, I would be so fucking annoyed if my friend ran out on me and then disappeared and then reappeared with a blond guy. But I’d also do some more questioning of the situation. Is she okay? Why is she with such a rude guy? Is he hurting her? Was she kidnapped? Is she being held against her will? Is this a drug thing? Does she need my help? Why did Luke cover for her? Is something deeper going on? Instead Simon is all possessive Nice Guy.

Apparently Simon spied on Luke packing a duffel bag of weapons. So he couldn’t give Clary any benefit of the doubt? It sounds like her family is caught in a bad situation! Maybe she had to hide for her life! Simon, use your brain!!

kajlkfaklsdjfalksdflk Clary tells Simon everything, and Simon asks if they kill all these different magical creatures, and Jace says ONLY WHEN THEY’VE BEEN NAUGHTY a;dlfjals;kdjfl;asdjfl;aksdjf hahahahahahahah This image that Clare is going for is just sooooo overdrawn. This dialogue, omfg.

Simon loses his mind and excitedly compares everything that’s been going on to D&D. Let’s totally forget abt the fact that Clary’s mom is missing, or that Luke just filled a duffel bags with murder sticks, shall we?

Jace and Simon have a bizarre conversation, and then they walk. In. The. Back. Door. Bc Luke doesn’t lock his back door. Bc that’s totally not something that someone who fills a duffel bag with weapons would do. At least the door to the bookstore is locked, though Jace opens it pretty easily with his stele. Why didn’t Luke have Jocelyn fix up some wards or something?

Simon asks Clary how she stands Jace, and she’s like “he saved me life” and he’s like “huh?” even though she told him everything that happened. Why is Simon so dumb. I guess all his blood is in his dick? Wouldn’t surprise me.

They find manacles in the wall, so either Luke and Jocelyn have (even more) hidden depths, or Luke practices

Luke’s apartment is filled with books. Of course. Look, I love books. I have about 500 in my room at this moment. I buy them constantly, I get from the libarary, I read and read and read. I think most of us on booklr do. But when every single Good Character in your book has books, it’s boring. And no one has unique book taste. What if all of Luke’s books were nature books? Jack London? Travel guides? That would paint a picture. Instead he has a bunch of fantasy and other fiction. That’s boring. I learn nothing, bc every goddamn person in this goddamn book reads fantasy. It’s so fucking generic. I totally approve of “good” characters admiring and liking reading bc that’s how you get ideas, and that’s how Lemony Snicket rolls, but there are more books than fantasy and mystery (the other main type that Lucas has) in the world. Justice Strauss has an inexhaustive library. Uncle Monty has all those books about snakes. Lucky Smells just has that one history of Lucky Smells. Already, you know so much abt each person (and place) by what books they have. We learn nothing about Luke.

Clary finds the overnight bag she leaves at Luke’s and changes clothes. I mention this only bc she puts on “a blue tank top with a design of Chinese characters across the front” bc of COURSE she is That Bitch. I hope it translates to something like “Radishes” or “Bridge”.

Luke’s bedroom has a shelf of “Indian statues and Russian icons” which, idk, makes me a little uncomfortable. These sound like things that are holy to someone. But I think the worst part is that Clary says, “Luke collects stuff. Art objects. You know … Pretty things.” I just googled it, and Hindu statues, like the one Luke has of Kali, are seen as actual avatars of gods. Clary is diminishing someone’s god to a “pretty thing”. It’s not a nick-nack or a trinket. (If you know more abt this, like if I’m wildly off-base, feel free to send me an ask!)

Jace finds the Metaphor known as a smashed picture of Luke, Jocie, and Clary, which Clary threw at the Ravener in her apartment, so realize that Luke went back through the apartment. Jace says that Luke must have gone through the Portal-potty last, so it brought them here. I’m still team Clary Asked to Go Where Her Mother Would Have Gone and Therefore the Portal did What it Was Supposed to Do and Brought Her Where She Wanted.

Luke and some warlocks show up, so Clary and co. hide behind the super convenient silk screen. Jace uses his sonic stele to make the screen transparent and we get this gem:

Jace shook his head at them both, mouthing words: They can’t see us through it, but we can see them.

Bc mouthing works that well. You don’t mouth compound sentences!! You mouth something simple like they can’t see us. Simon and Clary already know they can see Luke and the warlocks bc they’re looking at them right now! And this spell or whatever that Jace did takes the tension in the scene waaaaaay down. If they can’t see Luke, then everything becomes more tense. Are the voices getting closer to the screen? Is somebody about to reveal them? Instead, all the tension is drained in a dumb quick-fix.

Bc Clare thinks we’re stupid, she adds “It was frightening even though [Clary] knew [Luke] couldn’t see her, that the window Jace had made was like the glass in a police station interrogation room: strictly one-way.”

GD ARE YOU THERE??????? STOP THIS.

Jace realizes that the warlocks are actually Shadowhunters dressed as warlocks. Idk how he can tell, but whatever. He conveys this by whispering, so I don’t know what the mouthing nonsense was earlier.

The Shadowhunters are named Blackwell (redhead) and Pangborn (gray mustache). What sorts of names. It’s like Clare used a fantasy-name-generator. Who are we kidding, that’s totally what she did. Pangborn picks up the Kali statue and this conversation happens:

“Ah,” said Pangborn, taking the statue from his companion. “She who was created to battle a demon who could not be killed by any god or man. ‘Oh, Kali, my mother full of bliss! Enchantress of the almighty Shiva, in they delirious joy thou dancest, clapping thy hands together. Thou art the Mover of all that moves, and we are but thy helpless toys.’” “Very nice,” said Luke. “I didn’t know you were a student of the Indian myths.” “All the stories are true,” said Pangborn, and Clary felt a small shiver go up her spine. “Or have you forgotten even that?” “I forget nothing,” said Luke.

So the Shadowhunter mythology is that all religions are true? Inch resting. I vaguely remember this. Idk how I feel about this. The Shadowhunters are still gonna be super Christian no matter what lip-service Clare pays to other religions. She has angels! And demons! She’s trying to be inclusive, but it’s never really gonna work, bc she’s doing it in name only. But at the same time, I wouldn’t want her to mess with any religion but Christianity or, sigh, Judaism. Christianity bc it’s the dominant religion and can’t be marginalized (different denominations can be, but not Christianity as a whole) and Judaism bc she’s Jewish. There’s not very much Jewish in these books, though. Yeah, there are angels in Judaism, but it’s not really the Jewish Vibe. A book influenced by Judaism would have a lot of magic based on specific wording, and arguments, and Hebrew and Hebrew-derived languages. This book uses Latin and is into angels. It’s Christian-influenced, which is fine, I guess, but the lip-service to other religions doesn’t ring true. But also, saying “Christianity is the one religion!” is super upsetting and she shouldn’t do that. I don’t really know where I’m going with this, I’m literally thinking on the page. Do you guys have any thoughts on this? Please hit up my ask box or talk about this in the notes! This discussion really interests me, and I want to get diverse opinions.

Luke asks if Valentine sent them (he did) and if their clothes “are official Accord robes” “from the Uprising?” (they are). Wow. The Uprising. What a descriptive name! We don’t call things “the Uprising” in real life. It’s more like, “The French Revolution.” “The Cultural Revolution.” “The Revolutionary War.” “The Civil War.” Am I being unfair?” I guess someone right after one of the French Revolutions might just say “the Revolution.” But something about The Uprising is so boring. And aren’t there more than one Uprising? There should be. The Warlock Uprising. The Vampire Uprising. It doesn’t have to be all internal. Any organized group would rise against the Clave. The Clave is legit the worst.

It turns out Luke’s real name is Lucian AND. I. AM. DYING. Luke is Lucius Malfoy, confirmed!! Let’s do a list of what we know so far:

Clary: Ginny Jace: Draco Jocelyn: I’m getting Bellatrix vibes? Bc of the whole in-love-with Voldemort thing? Valentine: I don’t know?? I can’t think of who he could be??? We’ll have to leave this blank for now I guess :/ Hodge: Giles. Not a HP character, but this is a crossover event with Buffy. Isabelle: Pansy Parkinson Alec: I actually don’t know here. He’s the GBF. Simon: Does Harry make sense? They’re both boring nice guys (don’t @ me!)

This game is getting boring, let’s move on. Luke apparently used to fight with B and P, so we know he’s a Shadowhunter (or, if you’ve read this book before, you know he used to be one). Then he tells them he doesn’t know where the Mortal Cup is (they think Jocelyn hid it).

CLARY IS SO FUCKING DUMB OMFG. P and B talk about how Jocelyn hasn’t regained consciousness and Valentine wants to see her again (using her name) and Clary goes:

Jocelyn? Can they be talking about my mother?

NO THE OTHER FUCKING JOCELYN. CLARY HOW RU STILL ALIVE.

CC must think her readers are really dumb and can’t figure anything out on their own:

“I’ve never felt any way about [Jocelyn], particularly,” said Luke. “Two Shadowhunters, exiled from their own kind, you can see why we might have banded together. But I’m not going to try to interfere with Valentine’s plans for her, if that’s what he’s worried about.”

He might as well have said, “Jocelyn and I were both exiled. EXILED. We were exiled. We were exiled as fuck. Do you get it? Reading context clues is hard, so I’m saying WE WERE EXILED.” The quasi-warlocks should have responded like, “Yeah? We know you both were exiled? We were there?”

Blackwell refers to Jocelyn as “that bitch” bc institutionalized mysoginy is the absolute best! I love when vicious sexism is included for no reason! Bc also these guys aren’t any worse than Luke! Bc may I remind you that Luke was basically a supremacist! Just like them!

For some reason, these idiots believe Lucius when he tells them that he’s not close with Jocie. Then please explain why you both live in Brooklyn.

P and B threaten to make Luke stay in the city, and Luke threatens them, and somehow they let this happen? In other news, Clary is still dumb as rocks. She’s super hurt that Luke said that he doesn’t care about Jocie bc she has about 0 critical thinking skills. We’re talking none. She could have someone whispering the answers in her ear and still bomb the SAT.

Jace thinks that P and B think Luke “knows more than he’s telling” so why would they let him go???? Then Jace reveals that P and B murdered his dad, and this chapter is OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Someone bring me a Bloody Mary. It’s how I feel inside.

#anti cassandra clare #anti the mortal instruments #book snark #CoB: Chapter 8 #CoB snark

13 notes · View notes

jaeminlore · 7 years ago

Text

friends to lovers!ten

prompt: how about a scenario in which the reader enters a convenience store, late night, wearing super fancy clothes and ten works in this store and they talk and sparks fly and there's a little bit of angst but lots of fluff?

okay well so this request immediately made me think of that ten gif where he is wearing those pajama pants nd the black sweater

y'all KNOW the one

i found it and added it ^^

but that outfit comes in a lot later in this scenario so we'll skip it for now

okay so the setting is prom

nd the most popular boy in school asked you so you bought this super fancy dress and wore your nicest heals and jewelry

you even wore fake eyelashes like you wanted to look n i c e

bc you're not very popular in school and you thought your senior year would've gone unnoticed by everyone

but the cutest (*´꒳`*) boy in school asked YOU out and so ofc you accepted

but :(((

unfortunately :(((

said cute boy had only asked you out as a bet

and . . . it hurt

bc you had your insecurities but you thought that for once someone had just seen you for you and had fallen in love w you

or at least liked you like you obv don't think someone has to love you in highschool

it'd be nice tho :'—(

anyway so when you find out (you had heard some girls whispering abt it in the stalls) you left as soon as you could

the popular dude had been your ride

so you called your mom and asked her to pick you up at the convinience store near the school

partly bc you didn't want to stay at that school any longer

but mostly bc you were craving some spicy noodles

you pull off your heels and walk over to the convenience store, smiling softly at the worker at the counter

he looked bored before you walked in, his chin resting on his palm

but when you came in he was all business like suddenly he was standing up straight w a charming smile

"hello i'm ten! let me know if you need any help!"

his eyes trail down your body and his eyebrows lift "oh! were you just at prom? did you have fun?"

you shook your head solemnly

"i went but . . . i didn't have much fun."

"oh" ten frowns before brightening up again "well you look pretty."

"thanks"

you feel a little flustered at his words, since he sounds so genuine

"um— i'm gonna buy noodles now,,,,,"

nd you probably scurry away from him as quick as you can bc you already feel humiliated

like the only thing left is to have a crush on the convenience store worker just bc he called you pretty

you snatch your favorite brand of noodles and go over to the lil station, pouring the boiling water into the bowl before heading back to the counter

you pay for the noodles, and when ten hands you back your change his fingers brush your palm and you're just

blushing aGAin

you plan to eat the noodles outside bc there's no way you're going to stay in the store

but ten kinda leans over and asks

"can i eat w you? my break is soon and since you’re the only customer . . . would it be okay?"

his cheeks are kinda pink as he asks, and his eyes are avoiding your gaze as he stares at a soda stain left on the counter

u rlly don't wanna say yes

bc you just want to be alone in your misery

but also ... he looks so nervous you rlly didn't have the heart to reject him

"sure. but let's eat outside."

suddenly he gets the bRiGhTeSt smile on his face!!!! and he's like just let me make some hot chocolate!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you actually have no idea how lonely ten is

esp tonight bc he had to take a shift at the gas station while his school had prom

and of course he wanted to go bc prom is like the one time you can dance and no one makes fun of you for it

but his boss would not let him take his shift off so :(

and he doesn't think you know him bc the two of you are in completely different social groups

he is on the dance team and participates in musical theater

you are on the swim team and spend any other time in the library

ten knows you bc he thinks you're really cute :,,,,)

and he was going to ask you to prom

but

in the locker room after gym he overheard one of the popular boys talk abt bringing you and he knew he couldn't compete

so he never asked

fate must've intervened and brought you to him, so he took advantage of the situation and asked to eat with you

you're already eating when he arrives w his hot coco and a cup of noodles

it's an odd combination but you don't criticize it

"so, y/n, what brings you to my humble workplace?"

you narrow your eyes "you know me?"

"we go to the same school," ten answers, and he can see the obvious awkwardness in your eyes bc you genuinely don't recognize him "it's okay, we aren't friends or anything. i just know you bc you're on the swim team and my friend doyoung is the captain."

"ah! doyoung!" you say, thinking of your captain who always nags you to keep up your fitness regime. you wonder what he would say if he saw you with a sodium-packed cup of noodles

"he's annoying. nags too much."

ten laughs, and it's chirpy and bright and so wonderful that you find yourself leaning in to hear it more clearly

"he's always been like that," ten supplies, "he didn't even want mark or donghyuck to go to prom tonight bc he was afraid someone would spike the punch bowl"

"i think i saw that yuta kid pouring some tequila in it earlier."

the two of you compare nagging mom!doyoung stories before ten brings up the elephant in the room

"so why are you here, and not at prom?"

"oh. well I found out i was asked on a bet. something like who could bring the biggest loser as their prom date or something. i didn't stay around for the details."

ten is mad. you can't see it, bc he's rlly good at hiding his anger

but his jaw is clenched and his fists are going full arthur meme under the table

he just doesn't understand why someone would do that to anyone, let alone the person he liked the most in school

you don't even seem that bothered by it anymore, having gotten your noodles and disposed of your fake eyelashes and heels

(you save the eyelashes for another use tho obv those things are expensive)

and ten kinda has the urge to ask you to go to prom with him

it must have an hour left, and he could close up the store early (even if he would have to hear from his boss the next day)

but you could get the prom you wanted, and he could dance beside the prettiest girl in the room

"hey, y/n?"

you don't hear him, because a minivan is pulling into the parking lot, and you're already walking towards it. "I'll see you at school, ten! thanks for hanging out w me!"

"oh. no problem!" he gives you a wave and a halfhearted smile before turning around to clean everything up and return to his shift

he's very sad that he missed out on his opportunity w you

fast forward >>>>>>>>>>

two weeks later, and you're cramming for final exams while simultaniously training for the last swim meet of the year

and you're v v busy

but also you just want a break

and doyoung has had the whole team on a no carb diet bc he wants everyone to have suburb energy burned by vegetables alone

and all you're craving are some spicy noodles from the convienice store

you also kind of want to see ten again

ever since prom night you've noticed him around school and your heart gives a lil stir every time he sends you a smile or tiny wave

bc he's so cute :(

and you can't believe you haven't noticed him before :/

but at least you know him now :)

so anyway you decide to visit the store he works at in the hopes of gaining enough energy to be able to finish studying for your finals

you also rlly want ten to be there bc you highkey want to ask him on a date

bc he’s rlly cute and he was so kind to you that he just makes your heart go zoooooOOOoOoOOOoommmmmMMMMmm

so you go completely dressed down compared to last time

like your hair isn't even brushed lololol

when you arrive,,, ten isn't there :(

instead it’s this old guy behind the counter and he kind of sneers at you before going back to watching the lq tv in the corner

although it sucks that ten isn't there, you go to the back to find the same instant noodles you found last time

and low and behold!!!!

i bet you guys cant guess what happens next bc this is so unpredictable ;)

ten is there!!!

this is where the gif comes in bc he’s dressed in his pajamas too with an oversized sweater and messy hair that brushes over his eyes and U DNjkzwbfjdjfbbfjewbfe you gET it

“ten?”

he jerks around from looking at a packaged cheese danish (you KNOW he would don't argue w me!)

“y/n?” his smile grOWS “what’re you doing here?”

you shrug “i came for snacks..... and maybe you”

“me??” and ten is blushing !!! bc his crush is looking for him!!!!

“well.... you found me”

“yeah...” you don't really know what to do next, so you just hold up the cup of noodles,, “do you wanna ... idk ... eat w me?”

a cheeky smile appears on ten’s face and he just kind of asks,,, “is this a date, y/n?”

“idk do you want it to be?”

“tbh yeah”

“yay bc me too”

yall are just two cuties who like eating together outside of the convenience store

nd when you have your swim meet ten is the loudest cheerer in the crowd

when your team wins he runs up and kisses you in front of everyone!!!! bc he’s extra!!!! nd doyoung chides him for it bc you have to go get your award but ten doesn't care!!!!

anyway yeah that's friends to lovers ten

:’)

the end

1K notes · View notes

itsthesinbin · 7 years ago

Text

Devil Sent from Heaven

Hey I wrote an introductory thing for Morael lmao. Sorta- its mostly from Black Hat’s perspective. He might be ooc bc I’ve never really written an actual one shot/full on scenario for him lmao.

@rocksinmuffin (it wont let me tag u idk why) i wrote the thing

Despite his hatred for interacting with lesser villains, Black Hat loved throwing his little auction-parties. Villains from all around would throw their money at him, in hopes of getting their grubby hands on his doctor’s newest inventions. The ones that don’t win the inventions usually leave noticeable “donations”, in hopes of getting on the demon’s good side.

The demon doesn’t have a good side, but no one needs to know that.

He hears some gossip from a couple villain-wannabes by the buffet table. Mora’s on her way. That made him mildly curious. Who the hell is Mora? Some new villain that everyone thinks is aiming to be the next /Him/?

He couldn’t help but scoff at the idea. The woman was probably just particularly pretty, if the humans got so excited about her being on the way. Oh well. As long as she spent her money and didn’t just lounge around, he’d be fine with some pathetic little thing coming in.

He was fine with how his party was going, until he felt a… strange sensation crawl along his spine. His brow furrowed, confusion and annoyance crossing his features. Did someone bring in a blessed item? Something covered in holy water?

One of the lesser villains- a nerdy little thing dressed in the worst spandex suit- immediately started swooning, saying to his friends that “she’s here”. A small buzz picked up as Black Hat looked over.

His eye widened, and a sneer settled on his face.

She was ethereal- an unnatural glow to her that seemed to take up the room. It made his eyes burn and his head hurt just looking at her. The humans in the vicinity immediately became infatuated at her arrival, much to his disgust. He struggled to keep his form intact, feeling the urge to shift into something less human.

He grabbed the sad, nerdy little villain by the back of his suit, yanking him closer and demanding that he be told who the /hell/ that woman was.

“Th-that’s Morael,” the worm stuttered. “She’s the new villain that’s popped up, kidnapping and b-brainwashing our rivals-” A villain? /That/ creature? Interesting.

Without letting him finish, Black Hat dropped the bug back onto his feet. As much as he didn’t want to, he HAD to meet her now.

She looked up as he approached, meeting his eye. He expected a reserved stare, but was met with cold eyes and an even colder smile. Se pushed through the small group of admirers- and possible clients- to meet him halfway. His skin itched and burned in her presence, making him smirk slightly.

“So, you’re the infamous Black Hat,” she murmured, her smooth voice grating on his eardrums. She held a hand out, smile widening into a knowing grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Morael.”

He shook her hand, gripping tighter than he would with any human. He felt his skin melt at the contact, and he suppressed a small hiss that threatened to escape him. He pulled back from the greeting, putting his hands behind his back as it healed.

“I can’t say I’ve heard much about you, yet. Many seem to think you’re a notable upcoming villain,” Black Hat said, eyeing her up. She was smaller than him by a good foot- although, him being nearly 7 feet tall dwarfed almost anyone. Her green eyes seemed to glow with the same aura that her skin held. It made him sick.

“They’re right,” she said simply, folding her hands in front of her and holding them at her waist. “I’ve helped take control of the annoying hero populace- a lot of them are now minions for their previous nemesis. And some of them are simply my own little helpers, now.” She was sure of herself, that much was certain. As much as he hated to admit it, he liked her confidence. It still annoyed him, but he could respect it.

He motioned towards the buffet table, away from her little entourage. As disappointed as they were, she followed the demon’s lead. She indulged in some of the food Flug and 505 prepared for tonight, much to his surprise. Ironically, she went for the devil’s food cake. From her small smile, she was aware of the silent joke.

“And what do you have to gain from such a business, if I may ask,” he grunted, pushing away the nerdy little parasite that he was getting information out of before. The man huffed slightly, going back to stuffing his face with crab cakes. Black Hat held back a sneer as he turned his attention back to the woman in front of him.

“What do you mean? A business in getting rid of their enemies is all a villain could ask for. If you’re worried about your profits, don’t worry- many prefer to just kill their enemies rather than enslave them. Besides,” she grinned- an evil look to match one of his own. “Humans are just so cute when they’re brought to me. The money is good, too. What else could a girl ask for?” Black Hat scoffed.

“Since when do YOUR kind think of humans in any other way than something to be protected- like the infants they are.” She chuckled- a small, evil sound that sent chills down everyone’s spines. Eavesdroppers were sweating, much to the demon’s annoyance.

“Oh, my dear demon…” Those eyes that were shining changed, a darker expression crossing her face as she took a sip out of a wine glass.

“I’m not in Heaven for a reason.” Her tone said enough. He stared at her for a moment, before a sharp grin nearly split his cheeks. He barked out a laugh, making eavesdroppers flinch and move away.

“Well, aren’t you an interesting one,” he growled, moving to cross his arms. She laughed out a small “glad you think so”, turning back to her food.

He wanted to continue the conversation, but Flug just had to waltz in and remind him that it was time for the silent auction. Black Hat snarled, making the doctor flinch and run away. He stomped off angrily, ignoring the giggling coming from the angel behind him.

The items and notepads were put on display, and everyone was encouraged to go around and bet as much as possible.

Black Hat stood on a stage, watching the villain wannabes scurry around. He caught sight of Morael, strutting towards where the good doctor himself was standing. He jumped when her hand landed on his arm.

“Mind explaining your inventions to me, my dear?” “U-u-uh… There are c-cards that tell you what each item does-” “Oh, I know, but I want to hear exactly how they work from the genius that made them.” Black Hat could hear the doctor’s heart rate rise. It sickened him, watching as Flug led her around and stuttered out explanations of each device. Humans were such easy creatures to manipulate, especially if you’re a pretty woman. Bat your eyelashes and they do your bidding.

The demon let out a small huff-like chuckle. So that’s how she did things, hm? Everyone has their own ways. He just prefers intimidating his underlings.

She seemed drawn to a little recording device. The item in question helped with mind control- all the user had to do was record a special track and the device would sedate and indoctrinate whoever wore the headset. Considering what she does for a living, Black Hat isn’t too surprised she bid on that one.

She sent Flug off, and he scurried away to calm himself. The woman stayed near the mind control device, immediately upping her price whenever someone tried to outbid her. Not that many even dared to get close to her obvious claim.

Unsurprisingly, she was the last person to bid on that particular device, by the end of the auction.

Flug and Black Hat went over the bid sheets, while 505 went around to clean any leftover mess. Unbeknownst to the demon, Morael started cooing over the bear and keeping him from finishing his work.

Flug nearly choked when they got to Morael’s bid sheet. His boss looked over, eyes widening. Her bid was nearly five times what the base price was. Oh, Black Hat definitely found this angel interesting.

When it was time to call her to the table to grab her prize, Flug’s throat seemed to tighten up when he tried to call her name. Black Hat rolled his eyes, forgetting how easily humans become infatuated with non-human creatures. He saved himself the time and called her up, himself.

She sauntered up to the table, taking her boxed-up mind control device. She took it with a thank you, before sliding a card onto the table. He took it, seeing it was her contact information.

“Perhaps, if you ever need my services, you could contact me. I’m sure we could do great business together,” she purred, a subtle… tone to her voice that caused his ears to ring. From the way Flug shook his head, and reached under his bag to scratch and rub at his ear, it had more of an effect on him.

Black Hat couldn’t help but smirk, before pulling out his own business card. He passed it to her, watching as the tainted card burned her skin. Not that her own card didn’t sting in his grasp. She put the card into her bag, a pleasant smile on her face.

“Until next time, Black Hat.”

He watched her go, eyes lingering on the bare back her dress leaves free. Large scars littered along her shoulder blades. A tell-tale sign of an angel- fallen or not.

He stared until she was out of sight, a sinister grin on his face. Normally, he wouldn’t bother working with someone, but this woman was an interesting thing.

That… and he has to make sure she trying to take his spot as top villain, of course.

“Flug,” he growled, handing the business card to the nervous doctor. He nearly dropped it, making Black Hat roll his eyes.

“Set up an appointment with Miss Mind Control. I want see if we can do a… collaboration.” The way the demon snarled the sentence out unsettled the doctor, but like hell he’d say anything.

He let Flug handle the rest of the bidders, opting to lean back and think. He has to decide what he wants to propose in his future meeting with the devil from above, after all.

#villainous #fic #mine #ocs #morael

14 notes · View notes