#please I just wanted to do the main story and daily training and sleep before 1 am | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

evelyne-am · 2 years ago

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14th March 2023-

14th March 2023

Day 1

(By the way I’m really glad I didn’t post as last night because my day one continued over the 24 hours.)

I don’t know where to start. Those who follow my stories know that I didn’t sleep much, I felt nervous excited and scared all at the same time. There is a part of me that thinks that this kind of grueling training is exactly what I need, to strip myself to nothing after being somewhat applauded the last year or so in the music world, that has been nice after a long pandemic of feeling indispensable,but it has been completely unchallenging. But also it has been a long time since I have sat and created music, as opposed to performing it, and the next couple of months I had saved for that, so I wasn’t sure if fully I knew what I was giving up my creative space for.

I woke up 30 minutes before my alarm and had a chat with a couple of friends who were awake at the time thinking “ oh I have these extra minutes” only to discover it was my first day of my period. If you have a woman’s body then you will know for many that is horrible horrible day for most. For me it’s usually raging pain. Today was no different. I want to be full proof about being there punctually every day so the driver was ready for me and I was bang on time but I have not accounted for the fact that I would be in so much pain. I asked the driver to go get some medicine and said if you couldn’t find me, leave it in front of the lift. I reach 20 minutes before our call time so I can listen to some music and chill, the second I arrived I see others had already arrived; they were warming up walking, jogging and within two minutes of me coming sir and our other director Mohsina (henceforth referred to as M) also walked in. I did not have a chance to chill. I was pleased I was there before sir though, (like everyone else was,) that he saw my face when he walked in and not that of someone who came exactly time but as someone who came for themselves to adjust to the new surroundings just like we had been taught in the workshop. Sir comes daily with a whole car full of things; a project, Harmonium, a keyboard, speakers, and a big picnic basket full of goodies for us. Even in the workshops I’ve seen him always come 30 to 60 minutes early so that he has ample time to set up all his equipment and also if there are any questions for anyone who comes early. I see the room (pictured) on the 6th floor that will be my home for 3 months. It is beautiful in the morning sunlight, and way way nicer than the one we did the workship in, I feel so lucky the moment I have entered, a weird sense of belonging comes over me. After a quick warmup. There are 12 of us if you count M. 8 females and 4 males, quite a small cast. They are all quite pros but one of the males is a young guy who was in the workshop with us, tbh I was surprised to see him, but found out he is just shadowing the cast as he can’t attend daily due to university. The rest of us are the main cast, but it will determined what roles we each have as the play is designed. Sir started with a short but sweet message for us to be kind to be grateful and to remind us that we are doing is paying homage to the people that the play is written about (we’ll talk about that later) Sir told us a little bit about how his vision in the play. I won’t give too much away (but this blog will have a lot of spoilers for this play anyway, so don’t read if you don’t want spoilers for Spardhhas next production. ) But for now let’s just say it’s going to be immersive. It made me feel so excited, I can’t tell you. I have those feelings of when we were bringing Rahman Sir for his honorary doctorate in Berklee. But there I knew exactly what was going to happen I could envision it. Here it's outside my realm of thought everything that was talked about; lights and audience participation and set I don’t even know what they’re meaning but I could tell that it’s exciting.

My adrenaline got me through the first half, the first half is something that I know a little about as I had done the workshops last month. It’s fully physical, it's sometimes really hard, and sometimes there are little breaks that he gives for us to meditate in between the exercises. I don’t want to divulge his actual methods but there’s voice, breathing, full body, meditation there’s awareness of the room and the group exercises. As someone who has been to school where you are studying the entire aspect of an art, this is something that I can do technically- warmups, biology etc. The mental Aspect of being hundred percent aware of your surroundings is not something that I have studied. I am a very inside my head kind of person and Sir calls me out on it. My mind wanders constantly, and though I try to bring it back to be in the room it waivers a lot. I feel bad but I also appreciate Sir reminding me of this bad trait, this is the main thing that I would feel that I will have to work on.

Actually it is the reason that I have so many accidents, if you have read any of my Facebook status as you will know that I had about 3 to 4 accidents last year I have bruises all over my body. And just today I was thinking how reckless I am in my thoughts especially when I’m walking on the streets and I had a vision that I was hit by a bus. I’m thinking I must use what I learned in class in my everyday life and be less so.

At the height of our physical limits, sir gives us a break. I assumed it was about 20 minutes as it used to be in the workshop and I ran to the washroom. Oh that bloody ShilpokolA washroom. Thanks to the state of my health I spent the whole 20 minutes in the bathroom, the entire break. I had prepared a Tiffin of boiled eggs sausages and oranges, I planned to have some tea/caffeine to wake myself up for the second half as I used to do in the workshop. But I did nothing.

The second half is when we read the script. I had prepared my backpack to perfection but of course I forgot my glasses. What happened was, that I started falling asleep. Hundred Pages of bangla text l, everyone taking turns reading it; one would’ve thought that the hardness of it would keep me alert, or the fact that I could be next to read would keep me alert, but I fell asleep, I nodded off and in front of my 11 peers and Sir. I kept checking myself up and cursing myself and not sleeping enough, for not bringing caffeine (caffeine makes my heart palpitations go nuts so usually I don’t drink it) and for not bringing my bloody glasses that I really need to read this long text. And it was right then, during the second half of the rehearsal that my cramps came back in full bloody swing, the driver did not bring the medicines that I had asked him to do in front of the lift and I was squirming in pain. This was the point where all these thoughts crossed my mind that I would not be able to do this every day. The long hours, hard Bangla, and most of all the level of constant concentration felt really hard, especially with cramps. I tried to hold my back and massage it very discreetly so the pain would subside.I think M noticed and she asked me to come sit next to her in front of the desk where I could lean. From the second story (which shall henceforth be called M1- because its the first story in order) though I don’t know what happened, maybe it was sitting next to M, or the fact that it was something that hit me harder I was back in. I cried while the story went dark, i found the character so intriguing and hard to fathom. I even volunteered to read in my horrible Bangla reading With the risk of angering sir when I stumbled.

i left day one feeling absolutely in a rush, all my earlier doubts out the window (as you could see in my Insta video.) before I left I asked permission to write this blog from Sir. He seemed cool, which is why I officially start the blog today’s with the day one post.

The rest of the day was spent in multiple things, I was a bit down, I got distracted. The days homework was to prepare a section of the play to present the next day and by the time I did my to dos from my normal music life, procrastinate, spent time with my mum it was really late. On my way home from mum’s I was walking to buy some chocolate and listening to a song, when I fell down. Another of my accidents, because I was unmindful, the bleeding wouldn’t stop for ages as ususally that happens. I was reminded of how just that morning I saw myself being hit by a bus and now have vowed to stop being on my phone when I am walking the streets. Reading in Bangla is really tough for me so I asked DC (friend) To read it out for me so that I could record. Halfway through the story of M1, DC stops. At first I couldn’t understand why and asked if they were tired, but then I realise DC is crying. I realise this is the first time that DC is reading it and that the first time we had heard the story in class almost all of us were in tears too earlier that day. I will elaborate later about the stories themselves. I have taken permission actually to reveal here, but it’s intense, the most intense; it is about women and rape. While I was listening to the story being read out loud for me I saw a lot more things than I did when I was trying to focus on reading Bangla text. I didn’t really prepare a part but I knew the text a lot better last night than I did when I was reading it with my own eyes. But i did not feel as emotional the second time around, i dont know why, i was dilly dallying, and tho i stopped myself from doing the blog post, i still stayed up later than the previous night and at one point it was 2 am till i push myself to shut eyes. Something I can’t explain is that I woke up at 4:30am. It was my cramps, but I was sat in the middle of the night clutching my uterus and crying, I’ve had cramps before but I’ve never felt like . This story is creeping inside me.

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saorikuhara39 · 3 years ago

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Animedia Sep 2021 Issue Obey Me translation HIS ‘N HER ICING ON THE CAKE

Animedia Sep 2021 Obey Me translation feat. Beelzebub, Belphegor

(on sale Aug 2021)

The demon who loves to eat and the demon who love to sleep: Trained in both ice-cream and love!

How would you describe Beelzebub as an ice cream flavour? Belphegor: Beel will be a Devil Crush Mango Soda flavour. Both could be similar in their refreshing feeling. Even though it's soda water, the taste is not too strong; Beel is similar in a way too, where he's actually calm despite his appearance. How would you describe Belphegor as an ice cream flavour? Beelzebub: Light Snowfall Vanilla. I feel the same way when I eat this ice cream as I do when I'm with Belphie. It has a gentle taste and smell that makes me feel very blessed when I eat it.

Tell Us About It! Ice Cream Memories

If you were to compare the other brothers to an ice cream flavour, what would they be? Beelzebub: I think of Lucifer as being Hell Coffee flavoured and Mammon as being Dull Chocolate flavoured. Both of them are bitter at first but have a sweet aftertaste, and I think they are like Lucifer, who is sometimes strict but kind, and Mammon, who is not always honest but is willing to help somehow.

Belphegor: Will that be an overstatement? Levi is a dark caramel latte because of his strong characteristics, and Asmo is a rainbow sorbet because of how flashy he is. And Satan is definitely popping cheese.

Beelzebub: Because of the crackling?

Belphegor: Yes. It's like a surprise when you eat it. It's fitting for Satan, who is normally a smart guy but can suddenly lose his temper. So, please tell us about your memories related to ice cream. Beelzebub: I think it was me eating popsicles at Devil's Coast. If I won, I would get a T-shirt with the mascot character, Devil Cat, but I never got any... Belphegor: Oh, yes, we did. All of us ate two popsicles each. I think Beel ate about 20.

Beelzebub: I was so happy that everyone was there to help me to get a chance to win. What about you, Belphie?

Belphegor: Remember the homemade ice cream that Simeon gave to everyone before? Do you remember the big fight we had when Mammon ate all of mine? Beelzebub: Oh. At first he said it was your fault for not eating it sooner, but since Belphie didn't talk to him for three weeks, he made a replacement ice cream as an apology.

Belphegor: Indeed. It was very salty ice cream, though. Well, he seemed to be remorseful, so I forgave him.

Beelzebub: I'm glad it became a fond memory for you, Belphie.

Belphegor: It's not like that. It's just that I enjoyed seeing Mammon's face like a large dog being scolded.

Interview with The Obey Me! Team

Q: Please give us your honest impressions about the anime that has finally started to be broadcasted. We are most surprised by this development, which was unthinkable when we released the game for the English market in 2019. We're looking forward to seeing the daily lives of the brothers in action, but at the same time, we're worried about how the audience will perceive it, since it's going to be a far cry from the so-called otome game anime (laughs). Q: What were some of the things you paid attention to and focused on when creating the anime? We'd like to thank Colored Pencil Animation Japan for the attention they paid to the artwork......! The characters' facial expressions and movements are, of course, wonderful, but the backgrounds, which include parts you can't see in the game, are also wonderful, so we hope you will enjoy watching them as well. Q: The anime depicts a different daily life from the main story in the game. How did you decide on the content and theme of the story? Scriptwriter MoriMasa, Katsuya Kitano, anime producer Bunjiro Eguchi, and Obey Me! team members meet together to decide the general content of each episode. We would suggest a theme for the episode (for example, "We want Leviathan to cosplay!" for episode 2). For the content, MoriMasa and his team came up with a lot of interesting ideas. I remember laughing so hard I cried when I read the first draft of the story, wondering what kind of life I'd lived to come up with something like Ruri-chan's signature phrase (lol). Q: The game was released overseas before it was released in Japan. Is there any difference between the overseas version and the Japanese version? There is almost no difference in content. We have been making games for the English audience for a long time, so we focused on localizing the game for the English audience from the stage of creating the story and characters. By releasing the game as it was for Japan, we believe that in a way, the game has a fresh feel to it. Q: What do you think is the appeal of "Obey Me!", including the game and anime? In the past, we thought the biggest appeal was the concept of "being able to get close to the characters". In addition to this, I feel that "Obey Me!" has the appeal of "growing content". Since its release, I have felt that everyone involved in the Obey Me! project has been growing as a result of the active opinions of exchange students from around the world about Obey Me! Q: Last but not least, please give a message to your fans. Thank you very much for your support. Our goal is to have exchange students from all over the world say, "It's fun every day because of Obey Me!" I would like to continue to expand the world of "Obey Me!" through games, animation, and various other projects. Please continue to enjoy the life of the 7 demon brothers with peculiar personalities, and the lively demons, angels, and humans that surround them as they study in the Devildom! Bonus Q: Please tell us about the points you pay attention to when drawing Beelzebub and Belphegor, and the areas you are particular about. When Belphegor is with his brothers, his cunning look often stands out, but when he is with Beelzebub, he shows his innocence to him. Perhaps it is these twins who best express the subtle differences in the emotional distance between siblings.

#obey me #obey me jp #おべいみー #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #animedia #translations #translation #saori k translations

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hunterartemis · 4 years ago

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Media Bias (Avengers X Alien!Reader)

It was a request from anonymous reader and since I have limited experience with tagging, I am going to quote the person’s request here:

“ Hi can you please do Avengers x reader where the reader is like Starfire from og teen titans (but the reader is green and the blasts are blue) and the Avengers go on a talk show and the host is being very mean to her. Thanks”

So, dear anonymous. I hope you enjoy!“

Words: a whopping 4100

Y/n, open the door” I heard Sam thudding away on my door as I buried myself in the layers of blanket and put the air condition humid enough to cause a mini monsoon.

“Go away Wilson and leave me alone--” I bellowed on top of my voice.

“Y/n it’s been more than 7 hrs, you got to come out... whatever happened in the morning you gotta let it go--”

“I don’t wanna let it go... I am a national embarrassment--”

You must be thinking, what is the situation you’ve been dragged into. Let me pause there and rewind 17 hours back to give you a complete understanding which lead to this complete mess.

People think our story ended and sealed with Thanos never got to see what we go through in the New York penthouse. With the ongoing Pandemic on board, people are desperate to see us even more, as if it is the new Thanos and we are to defeat it. There is no greater sense of helplessness than playing the puppet of courage without doing anything. So whoever wrote that “after the defeat of big bad, the heroes rejoice” was a big idiot.

And thus, I found myself awake after hours, sitting alongside the broad glass panel that showed the completely stopped-in-time, shining in the dark cityscape of once bustling New York. A fleeting sense of desolation plagued me as I remember my own world in the verge of extinction. My breath almost stopped in the great worry of my fellow living being in this planet; the one who saved me from destitution--

“y/n, is that you?”A calm and concerned paternal voice broke the train of my thought. I sharply looked behind my shoulder to see a disheveled figure of man standing in the dark. By the tousled curls and the slouched hem of the sweatpants, I knew was Bruce.

“Urh, you startled me!” I said with a dismissive voice. I felt almost embarrassed to realize what I was thinking moments ago. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself.

“It’s you who startled me y/n, what are you doing up so late?” Bruce said with a groggy voice rubbing his eyes rather irritatingly. “We have an important event to attend tomorrow first thing in the morning” he slowly moved towards from the shadowy part of the room to the path of dimmed light from the glass panel and spared a long glance at my face. The way he looked at me sometimes irritated me, because it was an inalienable fact that he fell into the same category of humans who express an unhealthy obsession with my kind: a scientist.

“It’s not like I enjoy staying up like you Lowly Human...I am as stressed for tomorrow as you are!” I tore my face from his ken to express my displeasure. In reply, he sighed disappointedly, which sounded patronizing in my already agitated mind.

“I wish you’d stop insulting my specie whenever you get upset...” he gently put his hand in my shoulder, but soon he withdrew and stepped back. “And what is that god-awful smell?”

Any female whether she is human or not is very sensitive to criticism, especially about how she appears, thus Bruce’s comment was not only offensive but hurtful as well. I could not restrain my anger and annoyance anymore, and I stood up sharply to face him “I just happen to wet myself in the rain yesterday at my detour downtown and it turns out it has too much sulphuric acid and it is peeling my skin away... right before when I am about to go up close on television.” My hand subconsciously moved up to my cheek, where flakes were forming in my otherwise jade smooth skin. “And you are telling me to stop insulting your specie... I will when you unicellular cretins will stop ruining your own environment—“ I folded my arms defensively, gazing away from Bruce’s face “--as if I don’t get ridiculed enough for my chrorophyllic skintone, and now I am shedding like a common reptile.”

“Alright alright I am sorry...” Bruce threw up his arms defensively, and his small paces back and forth showed his discomfort more than anything, “do you want something for your skin, CeraVe or something? I can fetch you some ice if you want?”

His apologetic gesture made my whole effort defeated; but my pride disrupted me from being apologetic “Forget it... as if those human manures would work on my skin—“ I heaved a sigh and looked at him again “must we do the thing? I mean I am not the only alien that set foot on earth in this decade, why must I be walked around like a showdog in front of all the people?”

For some moments Bruce did not answer me. I almost thought he was ignoring me, but then I realised that he must be contemplating on every word he wanted to say and every word that was running through his brilliant mind. Out of anyone in the team, Bruce was the visual hole, the less than heroic material: even with the Hulk. And for this, the society made sure that he would be self conscious for the rest of his life for his other identity. My annoyance almost melted to sympathy when I heard him speak in a rather frustrated voice.

“Y/N, I know that you are stressed about this and frankly I hate this stuff too, but this is very important for the people: for your people as well as ours. Not all things that come from the space are benign and people need reassurance that you are not hostile. I hate this too, but it is for the greater good!”

“Greater good, greater good... it is always for the greater good!” The same old daily whining of lofty agenda made me sick “I am sick and tired of these Brucie, I don’t want to do this anymore... I am tired about people asking me weird questions and cretins posing as scientists trying to push probes on me the first chances they get-- I wish I could just disappear with the portal that brought me in this cursed place!“

Bruce came closer and grabbed my shoulders gently “Don’t say that y/n... otherwise we wouldn’t have the means to counterattack all those aliens—“ my silence might have given him the cue that he wasn’t doing a very good job at convincing. His wavering eyes fixed on my face once again as he spoke “okay, here is a deal: how about it is the last time you appear in public, hm? Once you satisfy them that you are part of the team, I swear people will leave you alone... they left the Hulk alone too once they understood that he is one of the good guys!”

“No but...“

“No ifs and buts... go, and have some sleep. Let me look in the lab if we have some squalanes and peptide solutions lying around—“ he said with a paternal affection and disappeared into the dark passage which lead to his room

“Thanks Brucie you are the best—“

I couldn’t help but to smile a little. Humans!

...

“This is a bad idea I am telling you--“ I told Bruce with an hushed tone as the makeup artist went on with a puff on my face for the millionth times. The rest of my team was behind me, getting the same attentions to their dismay. I could tell Bucky was downright uncomfortable as his makeup artist had a hard time getting not distracted by his bionic arm; and Wanda was downright glaring at the man who kept flicking the brush on her nose.

“relax y/n, you are smart and you are friendly, you are going to ace this and trust me people are going to love you--“ Bruce said with gritted teeth to make sure no one could tell what he was saying. He almost flinched as some of the powder made into his nose and the makeup artist followed him up with a q-tip.

“My face is itchy...“ I whispered again, trying not to gouge my face out with my nails as the powder sat on the flaky part of the cheek. If this wasn’t a studio I would have scratched my face like a lunatic and ended up as someone who was attacked by a bear in the mountains. And I was glad that I was standing beside Bruce who knew how not to go overboard with the things. Clint would have brushed them off, Wanda and Bucky would have panicked, and Sam’s gestures no matter how genuine would have made me laugh.

“Wanda already told the makeup artist to spray you with Squalane, your face isn’t half as bad as it were yesterday night“ Bruce then went on politely gesturing the makeup artist to spray the stuff Bruce brought from the lab in a clear bottle, and the look on the Makeup Artist’s face was between annoyance and bursting into tears.

“Brucie...“ “I don’t wanna mess it up--“ I said nervously as we walked into the couch and settled with the others.

“Trust me you won’t... “ Bruce graciously consoled me.

The cameraman cued and we were all gestured to look into the main camera as the lights in front of us adjusted accordingly. Within all hustle and bustle, the host walked in like a royalty, and by the looks of his face and those following him with makeup and refreshment, he had a really bad morning.

“We will go on air in 3, 2 and 1”

“Good Morning America, this is your host Justin Fallon and welcome to another episode of The Early Show. Today we have with us some really special guests. You might know them from News, the murals, the comics and the Merchs please welcome our own global superheroes: The Avengers. Welcome to our show” the host said with an uncomfortable friendliness and turned towards us.

"Thanks for having us with you" Sam answered graciously, with a little awkwardness. I could understand why; it was always Tony, Steve and Natasha who spoke in public. After such a terrible loss, he is struggling to fill up their shoes for the sake of our public image. He had been wrapped up into a pretty bad controversy recently for succeeding as Captain America and it had a pretty bad toll on him—to the point his speech kind of went from cheerful to composed in an unnatural way.

"It’s been way too long since our morning couch looked so colorful and it surely brightens up the day.” The host said with an obligatory politeness. Although the term was innocent enough but it seemed not so—I instantly froze up and million things started flying inside my head: was I looking good enough, is my patches showing under the layers of power and squalane. Turns out it was not me alone. From the corner of my eye I could sense the tension behind me from Clint and Bucky and I know it was different than mine. The host must have wanted the old team, and looked like he was stuck with the mediocre leftovers.

“Thank you...“ Sam replied.

“So here you guys are after averting the big wipeout crisis, in the quiet and chilling, so how does it feel to be in the pensive from being hyperactive all the time?“

“Well, at first it did feel kind of boring and lack luster, but slowly we are adjusting to it. With the ongoing Pandemic crisis I think we just have to adjust to the situation. In a way, I think we are all helping each other by staying inside and recuperating.” Sam answered diplomatically.

“That’s so nice” the interviewer said quite curtly and then changing the topic he sharply turned to Doctor Banner “I know of all you people Dr. Banner will find this Lockdown Leisure slightly more comforting, isn’t that so Doctor Banner?”

Wait, what was that? Was that even normal? Sam was sitting in the front and after him Bucky, then Wanda and then Bruce. Should not he come gradually? Breathe... maybe I am reading too much into this. Keep a friendly face, don’t think too much... the entire nation is watching... this is the one time I have to do things right! It’s for me, my team who housed me and my people.

I had to give props to Bruce for managing things calmly despite his claims about public speaking. He politely replied “Well theoretically it should be but it’s not like causes of anger cannot exist within the so called peaceful environment if you think about it, but I am glad you showed your concern” and like a pro, reached out to the glass in front of him to sip some water—like some real celebs in talk shows.

“Isn’t that true! So Solaris, how does it feel to be surrounded by the icons of the earth?”

I wasn’t really ready for the sudden attention. For a second I blanked out completely and gaped my mouth like a complete idiot. My stupefied face must have been quite prominent because the host tried to laugh it off lightly to divert the attention. I am still wrapping my head around the fact how some humans work so beautifully under so much attention—If I could choose between blasting off alien armies and speaking in talk shows, I will take the aliens instead.

“I..I--It’s quite fun... there is never a dull moment with them--“ I manage to utter, and thankfully it wasn’t a gurgling sound from a deep abyss.

“The thing is, being the most newest member, you sort of have a mystery around you, the kind of a Blue Comet sort--“

“Oh thank you— “ great going me, like a real talk show celeb—keep it up!

“So why don’t we break that down... Solaris, is that true that you came from a whole another galaxy which is not Milky Way?” the Talk show host asked, reading from a small piece of card.

Finally, something I can talk about all day: stars, planets and galaxy. I will have to slay this, I chanted inside and replied after drawing a breath “Yes that’s true. I am from Planet Auriga from Pleiades system. Our Sun is Alcyone, the second brightest star right after Aldebaran. You people call our system Taurus Constellation--”

“--so much astrophysics, take notes kids they might ask you at the NASA interview.“ the talk show host interrupted. It annoyed me greatly because I could finish the words I worked so hard to speak confidently. So that’s how Bruce must feel all the time when people interrupted him when he explains things. However the host went on as if nothing happened “For a near human creature in this planet, do you identify more with the Professor X’s troop or with the Avengers?”

Near human creature? My race is literally the most Superior in all of galaxy.

“I don’t really understand what you mean...” I said as politely as I could manage.

“I mean isn’t it hard to fit in when you are the only alien in the group--“

The flippant remark was rude and I tried not to wrap my head around it. I recalled Bruce’s words to keep cool and maintain a neutral face replied : “I mean I am not the only one, Thor is also not of the earth and he is a darling to be around. Alien or not I think I have learned a lot about myself and the ways of earth by spending time with this wonderful people?“

I could hear the audience clapping and cheering with my reply. A surge of pride swept across my chest and I smiled slightly at the audience.

“How sweet--“ the host said, keeping with the cheerful mood “as the outer world people are coming into the planets, we think a lot of things are shifting, do you find it hard to cope into the earth from where you come from--“

Finally, a thoughtful question, I made a solid eye contact with the host and replied “No, the atmosphere is pretty much the same in Auriga, but I think humans can do a lot better taking care of the environment. I know for a fact that millions of planets and their lifeforms were extinct because of excesses I see on earth.”

The thoughtfulness of the host was only for so long “The girl’s been around... if you know what I mean—“ he commented with a little wink, and from the audience’s laugh I knew he didn’t mean something polite or mildly positive. After the laughter subsided, he turned again to me “I dig the midnight blue hair... it is so contradictory and yet it works“ he complimented “because you know scale and hair are not something we see very often in our planet--“

Excuse me, what was that supposed to mean?

“--so tell me are the lapis cascades all natural? I mean they are not dyed at all?”

“No they are not... the special keratin bond that reflect the blue pigment of the natural light but they are actually transparent—“ I added objectively.

“So that means in the right lighting you don’t need to mow the bush—“ the host said with a curved smile on his lips, and the audience went on laughing in the same manner they did moments ago.

Even under the blowing airconditioner, I started t feel really warm around my neck “I really don’t know what you mean; you are making any sense at all! Do you guys need special light to mow the bush, do you do in the solstices or during the eclipses—“ this time I didn’t hide the fact that I was annoyed.

“--she is really really funny you guys--“ the host again smiled and acted like I was a stone wall and my reaction didn’t register in his mind at all. “So you are saying you don’t mow your bush at all?“

“I live in a New York Penthouse, there is no bush--“ honestly if this wasn’t a dumb talk show, I would have taught this impudent human a lesson.

The host looked a little uncomfortable as our eye contact lasted for several seconds. He cleared his throat and went on “Okay you guys, she just clarified that there is no bush, so let’s move on to your...your look... I am so fascinated by it, it’s so reptile chic--“

What’s your fascination with cold blooded animals? Are you asking to die like one?

“Um, thanks...?!”

“So how do you manage to maintain this--“

That was honestly the last straw. This host is impolite and rude and he leeches off the discomfort of his talk show host. When this realisation hit, all my self-control and self preservation went out of the window. The vacuum was replaced by the sheer annoyance towards the host who deliberately mistreated us since the beginning.

“Do you think that’s how I live, maintaining my skin and mowing the bush--“ my pitch rose from my previous composed tone “I mean what kind of questions are these?“

The host was still wearing his phony smile on his face, but I could see the colour slightly draining off his face “No I was just asking, because the audience wants to know--“

“I think the audience is smart enough to understand that they cannot get the green skin on natural blue hair, so can you move on to a more sensible question?“ I answered heatedly and defensively at the same time, and as I spoke I felt the aura of tension shifting from discomfort to sheer panic.

“Y/n... don’t do this--” I heard Bucky whisper very faintly from above.

“Solaris, don’t get me wrong, but we don’t always get a green-skin hottie on the morning couch, don’t be offended!” he said while he gestured covertly to cut the camera on the other side. I have to give this man an applause , I could tell he had busted all his courage but he kept the face of nonchalance too good to be true—no wonder he sat on this chair for so long.

“What’s your obsession with the skin colour?—“ I said heatedly as I stood up from my seat “Don’t you dare cut the camera... don’t you dare! Do you think you humans are the epitome of beauty from which point everyone in the galaxy should confirm? I am sick of this... Everyone, I am so sorry for your wasted time but no more of this!”

“Solaris--“ this time it was Sam’s voice that implored me from the sides. For a split second I felt bad for him, because as Captain America, he would have to take the heat from the public. But I was at the point of no return. If I back out now, I would be called a pushover and I would have to endure that image for the rest of my life in the earth.

“You know what, as you are so obsessed with my looks, I would love to show you another thing of mine that is blue--”

Blast

So long story short, Solaris goes to a morning talk show, Solaris encounters a rude host and Solaris blasts him with her Blue Sun Beam. Biggest disaster ever!

The thudding outside the door would not stop, and honestly their over attention was getting on my nerves “honestly, why don’t you go away... what are you, my royal nanny?”

“Very funny Solaris... now come out and get some food--” this time it was Bucky who spoke. Although he was the shortest to reply, but it made me well up. He had the shittiest history amongst all of us: hunted, betrayed, manipulated and now sidelined—how can I see my problems bigger than him.

“How can I... I ruined everything, all the reputation you built throughout the year, I blew it up within 3 minutes, how can I show my face to you guys! I was supposed to be the superior being--“

A moment of silence followed. But then the old familiar calm voice spoke from the other side

“y/n... It’s not about superior or inferior, you were just very very honest with your feeling! sometimes it’s good for the public, sometimes it is not. I mean look at me--I have struggling with my anger all my life and god knows the stuff I have wrecked in Hulk state. It’s okay to make a mistake... no one blames you!”

“Ha ha right...“ I replied sarcastically, feeling mad about how well Bruce understood my situation.

“Honestly, the way you acted today... Tony would have been proud!”

I could not hold myself anymore. All the feeling that has been plaguing me until now: embarrassment, guilt, confusion, sadness... all came down like a thundering rain with that one statement. I rushed and slammed the door open and jumped on Bruce to embrace him into a tight hug. At first I could tell Bruce was taken aback, but soon his firm arms snaked under my back to hold me tightly.

“I am so sorry... I ruined you all--“ I hid my face in Bruce’s shoulder. Suddenly I felt a gentle pat on my back, I straightened up and looked, it was Sam. His awkward cautionary expression was gone and he looked cherry as the old days “As Captain America, I cannot condone your behaviour, but as Sam... well, that jerk deserved it--“ he reached for his pocket and took out his cellphone “and hundred thousand people in New York agree with you“

I looked at him with a curious expression as he gave me his phone. When I looked at it, it was a tabloid video that had the clip of me blasting the host and it had—

“Stars in galaxies!... 100K likes?” I exclaimed

“And look down, there are comments too--” Bucky scrolled down from behind my shoulder to descend to the white space.

That jerk deserves it, he was literally harassing her...You go Solaris #MeToo

Solaris is so cool, I wish I was as cool as her.

Ugh, I hate that morning show host, if I was in her place I would have thrown him off the stark tower, #SunQueen

Racists never change, and We stan our color positive hero #SolarisRocks

Humans...

...

Okay, that took a lot of time because at first I didn’t know how to work on the request, then I had to go back and forth and rewrite most of it two times because I wasn’t convinced it was good. So I sincerely hope it’s good because I am freaked out as hell.

I also gave reader a name because she is inspired by an alien character in TeenTitans called “Starfire”. So I call her Solaris, and was constantly reminded of Solar of Mamamoo (TMI)

I don’t hate on Fallon, I just used his name because it is recognisable by American public and I also had to see a lot of Jimmy Fallon’s show to write about the Talk Show plot. I was also greatly inspired by Naomi Campbell, RDJ and Nicki Minaj’s interviews.

#avengers x reader #alien reader #skin color #teen titans og #starfire inspired #yay I got a request #rude talk show imagine #avengers x reader imagine

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magisteramentia · 3 years ago

Text

The Resort - Arianna of Corporate

Arianna lifted her beige pleated skirt to show the underwear the Company had chosen for her, a matching set of blue bikini panties and bra, that combined with her blue top.

“Are you pleased, Master?” Arianna said and bent over the wooden desk.

Ariana had taken well to her training. In her daily life, she was barely aware she had become her boss’s, Julian’s slave.

With a little wiggle, she looked back to see if her boss was pleased.

She fixed her secretary’s glasses and smiled.

This was the way she had learned to show appreciation.

After Julian told her she won the sales competition to go on a corporate retirement, Ari was elated, so she had to show how thankful she was.

All their hard work finally paid off. All those hours he spent with her on the re-training program.

She barely remembered any of it, but it worked.

-----

Every day for the past month Ari arrived early to the office, logged onto her computer, and played the tutorial Julian prepared for her. All she could recall were the first few minutes where Julian talked about customer service, company loyalty, and... obedience? That couldn’t be right.

“Just because you don’t remember it doesn’t mean it isn’t working,” Julian reassured her, “Most learning is subconscious, like, how you learned to talk at first. You will notice the changes soon.”

He gave her a dismissive smile before getting back to work on his own computer.

Arianna sat down back at her computer and kept with the tutorial; even with all her doubts and how boring the program was, she had to admit her sales were higher than her co-workers since she began following Julian’s regime.

Though she wasn’t sure how she was doing it.

All she noticed was that a week into the program, she was growing uncomfortable with her regular underwear.

What she didn’t notice was the following Monday she arrived early to give Julian a personal fashion show where he chose her new wardrobe and lingerie.

She was getting more clients, mostly men, and meeting them in their homes or hotels to talk about their insurance packages. They were very receptive to her new wardrobe, complimenting her professional look.

But while she walked out of the meetings hours later with signatures worth thousands of dollars, she was a bit confused as to how it got so late in the night.

From the time she spent at the office, she listened to the program recommending Ari made healthier choices. Eating fewer carbs, exercising more.

Once again she talked with Julian about it.

“A good presentation assures the clients of your professionalism,” Julian said, “I bet you realized that the new wardrobe is getting you better contracts, here.”

Julian showed her charts that demonstrated the spike in sales since she began dressing according to Julian’s recommendations.

Ari sat beside him and absentmindedly nodded as her mind drifted off.

Julian offered to provide her with protein supplements and to make time to help her find an adequate cardio routine.

Ari nodded and forgot what happened after.

From that day on, Julian called her to his office for their daily cardio routine, and every time she couldn’t remember what she did inside his office. By the time she walked out, her neck and jaw felt a bit sore. And sometimes, when she looked at the mirror to fix her makeup, she found stains on her clothes or a dollop of cream in her hair.

As the program progressed, arousal was one of the difficulties she kept encountering in her daily life. Arianna never felt so sexually frustrated. Before working under Julian she used to only need to relieve herself once or twice a week, read an erotic story in the bath or before going to sleep, using her hands or trusty her vibrator.

Nowadays, when she had free time, it was all she could think about. Sometimes she imagined some of her clients, sometimes it was Julian.

Her vibrator’s batteries kept dying out on her, always keeping her on edge but never able to cum unless... unless she pictured Julian.

Julian choosing her clothes.

Julian taking off her clothes.

Julian’s lips on her own.

Julian’s cock between her lips.

Julian pulling on her hair.

Julian fucking her brains out.

Julian cumming down her throat, on her lips, on her back.

“Fuck!” Arianna screamed as another charge died before she could cum.

The following morning Arianna felt groggy, exhausted, and constantly horny. Sitting at her desk, Arianna’s fingers absentmindedly reached for her pussy. Images of herself on her knees, with a collar around her neck, Julian spanking her and calling her name. She was almost there.

She was gasping and staring at the computer when Julian touched her shoulder.

“Arianna!” He called.

Arianna jumped in her seat. She was not wearing a bra that day, (Julian didn’t tell her to do so) and her nipples were erect under her blouse. She felt self-conscious and blushing. Her hands bolted to the side, cleaning her pussy juices on the fabric of her skirt. “Yes, Sir?, I mean Julian?”

Julian smiled, “Sir is fine, did you finish today’s tutorial?”

Arianna looked away and checked her computer. “Yes, Sir,” Arianna said.

“Good girl, Arianna,” He tapped her shoulder.

Arianna shuddered with pleasure.

“Keep the wonderful work.” He smiled and walked away.

“Sir?” Arianna called out to him.

“Yes?” Julian turned and watched Arianna fidget in her seat.

“I would... I was feeling a bit distracted. Maybe you could assist me with some of those cardio exercises you have been helping me with?” She thrust her chest forward and curled one lock of her hair.

“Sorry Ari,” He said and began walking away, “We have to close accounts soon and see who goes to the corporate retreat with me this month, you are taking the lead so far, just hold on like that for a little bit. I think you have an appointment this afternoon?”

“Right, yes Sir, thank you for reminding me,” Arianna nodded and deflated.

“Good girl, see you later,” Julian said and left.

Arianna had to bite her lip to keep herself from screaming as the orgasm shook her entire body.

After that meeting Arianna worked every afternoon, reviewing insurance policies with their clients over their dinner tables. She met new clients with the outfits that Julian suggested. And after every meeting that week she left shuddering, restless and sore, particularly around her breasts.

Every night she arrived at her home wet and increasingly horny, growing desperate and needy. Unable to cum, she fell asleep with her hands and vibe between her legs.

She blamed the excess of work on her sexual frustration; she was too tired to cum after all the sales she was closing.

On the last day of the competition, Arianna arrived to find a gift box on her desk.

There was a tiny note.

“Congratulations on completing the program.- Julian.”

Arianna opened the box and found a black collar with a metal ring on it.

She immediately put it around her neck and walked to Julian’s office.

“Did you like your gift?” Julian asked without lifting his eyes from the paperwork he was revising.

“I love it,” Arianna said, touching the leather collar.

Julian put down the pen and watched her blush.

“I think I have to give you a second commendation,” he said, “Since you are the leader in sales, you get to go with me to the beach for the corporate retreat,” Julian said with a wide smile and a growing erection.

“Thank you, sir.” She said bending over the desk and sliding her panties to the side.

“You deserve a reward for all your hard work.” He added and walked behind her.

He caressed her ass. His thumb pressing the small of her back like a button.

Arianna shuddered and arched, her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“What are you?” Julian asked.

“Your loyal slave.” She droned.

“What is your purpose?” He asked.

“To serve you and please you, sir,” Julian slid his cock inside her.

“What are you going to do?” He began thrusting in and out of her.

“Anything you want, Master.” Arianna moaned.

That day she walked out of Julian’s office wearing a tag on her new collar.

She prepared for the trip with Julian by going to the salon and getting a Brazilian, despite Julian telling her how cute she looked with her brown bush between her legs, she didn’t want to embarrass him when wearing the new bikini he bought for her.

With something so tight and small, her pubes wouldn’t seem elegant.

-----

Arianna knelt on the carpeted floor of the hotel. Her eyes were foggy as she looked up and bobbed her head on the cock of a man from another branch of the company.

She was wearing a blue dress with ample cleavage that showcased the chain dangling from the collar around her neck.

The man fucked Arianna’s head until he came inside her mouth. She gulped it all down, careful to not let a single drop fall and stain her dress, “Thank you, Sir,” Arianna said with a devoted smile and cleaned her mouth.

Before someone else took their turn with her, Julian approached from behind her and helped her up.

“You are doing great, Ari” Julian whispered and placed his arm around her back.

He led her through the crowded hall. Ari saw men and women on their knees, fellow pets and slaves sucking and licking their masters.

She gave Julian a vapid smile. “Thank you, Master.”

“Are you ready for the next part of your training?” Julian asked and pulled her close, caressing her naked back.

“I am your loyal slave, Master,” She cuddled close to him, “Your faithful pet to be trained as you please.”

Julian gave her a confident smile and pushed open the big wooden doors that led out of the main hall.

The resort provided a few select services, among them a tattoo parlor.

Julian told Ari to sit on the chair facing backwards and exposing her back.

Julian showed the tattoo artist the design.

The tattoo artist, a cute, petite girl with raven hair and many piercings and tattoos, sat behind Ari.

“Maybe you should distract her while I work.” She told Julian.

He nodded and stood in front of Ari, taking out his cock.

Ari’s lips parted. She took her tongue out, letting a silver thread of drool fall from her mouth to the floor before she began sucking him.

Ari spaced out and enjoyed the vibrations on her lower back and the taste in her mouth.

She was serving her master proudly, just as he taught her during her training. She took as much as she could, trying to maintain eye contact, which was difficult with every thrust from her boss and how the tattoo artist stopped from time to time to play with Ari’s pussy, making her eyes roll to the back of her head.

“I am proud of you, pet.” Her Master said, caressing her face. She was so elated she almost came from the praise.

She pulled out the cock from her mouth to speak

“Thank you, Master.” She said with a smile and swallowed him whole.

A woman walked into the tattoo parlor and stood behind Julian. She was wearing a black suit with a pencil skirt. She had short black hair and diamond earrings.

She blew on Julian’s ear.

“Fuck!” He turned his head back and shivered.

She watched him fuck Ari’s head and gave him a Mona Lisa smile.

“Did her service training include female satisfaction?” She asked Julian with a demanding tone.

Julian pulled his cock out of Ari’s mouth, leaving her panting and drooling.

“I...” Julian gulped, “I... never asked. The program was supposed to cover it.” He said and stood aside.

“We will have to find out.” The woman said. She stood in front of Ari and lifted her skirt, exposing her naked bush; she parted her lips with her manicured hands and Ari began licking her earnestly, hungrily. Overtaken by instinct.

Ari lapped and sucked the woman in front of her. She was the first woman she ever serviced, but she did it expertly.

The tattoo artist finished her work and stood back while her clients finished. She could wait a little while to collect her tip.

The woman gave Julian an approving nod, and Julian took his place behind his slave. He lifted Ari’s ass, caressing the brand on her back. A mark of ownership to the company, to him. To his Mistress.

He pushed his cock inside Ari, making her release a sweet, soft moan.

Ari’s tongue dutifully pleased the woman in front of her. The tangy musk she breathed made her mind foggier than usual. Despite that, Ari didn’t neglect her duties to her Master. She moved her ass in a rhythm that she knew pleased her boss.

The woman’s legs gave in as she felt how Ariana relentlessly, yet kindly, pressed her clit with her tongue and her hands caressed her legs, her labia, and eventually drove her fingers inside her pussy with her lips and tongue still sucking her hard.

The sight of his slave, making another woman orgasm, brought Julian to the brim and made him release his pent-up cum inside her.

Ari felt a jolt of pleasure surge through her, making her eyes roll to the back of her head.

Her hanging tongue dripped with saliva and cum.

The woman cupped Ari’s chin and licked Ari’s tongue.

The tattoo artist walked behind her and handed her a handkerchief that the woman used to clean her wet pussy before fixing her clothes.

“May I?” The tattoo artist asked, pointing to Ari’s head.

“Go ahead.” The woman said.

The tattoo artist grabbed Ari’s head and positioned her against her eager pussy.

Ari pleasured the new woman automatically and with the same eagerness as she did before.

Julian’s cock popped out of Ari. A thread of cum still linked the two of them.

“It was a pleasant experience.” The woman said, grabbing Julian’s limp cock and caressing it back to life. “Maybe you would care for an exchange program?”

The tattoo artist gave pleasant screams while Ari greedily devoured her.

“We will see,” Julian gasped, “We still have the week ahead of us, Mistress,” Julian said and knelt in front of his boss.

“And she still has to serve many others.” His Mistress added, watching Ari bring the tattoo artist to an orgasm.

As Ariana recovered from the fogginess and noticed the scene surrounding her, with a pussy on her tongue, she knew she was going to enjoy the corporate retreat a lot. If her Master or Mistress allowed her.

#hypno kink #hypnokink #magister amentia #mind control #nsftumblr #nsft

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deepdonutkid · 4 years ago

Text

Nonsense

A/N:

This took me way too long! I’m sorry, I was stuck on the Polly part for a while after Helen’s death.

Even though there is a part in the middle, which I’m not really satisfied with, I’m still glad, I finished that chapter. I hope you like it. It’s a little sad for a story, that will later focus on... other stuff.

Tbh... I forgot, if Martha died from a disease or something else. That’s why this part is a little vague. But he will talk more about his dead wife much later in the story.

English is not my first language and this is not beta-read, just a small part of it! Thanks to @retromafia for helping me out on this chapter! You’re so lovely!

John as mental health issues, but it’s very different to those of his brothers!

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl @theshelbyclan @justalonelyslytherin

Masterlist Do you wanna touch

____________________

All fucking week he had thought about this date and her. John was distracted at work, at home and at the Garrison. His head was somewhere else, preferably with her, the beautiful Russian girl he had met a couple of days ago. He tried to keep this to himself even though he worried others would start to notice his weird behavior. Well, it was pretty hard to shut up about it, when he sat drunk next to his friends in the pub, but John wasn’t really ready to talk about this. It still felt so surreal like this encounter had never happened and it was all in his head. In addition to that, others- mainly his family- would gladly ruin this for him, before it had even begun, which was why he was so reluctant to talk about it.

They would ask him all sorts of stupid questions, which he couldn’t answer at all. He frowned and closed the book. Later he would meet the mysterious woman again and this was his only chance, since he didn’t know her full name or her address or another way to contact her. So he had to go there or he would go crazy thinking about what might have been. But there was a problem with that.

Of course there was a problem as nothing in his life could be easy. Not even once. However he refused to call his kids a problem. His dad called him like this more than once. And if John wasn’t a problem, his name was either accident or brat. Needless to say John was way nicer to his children than his father was to him. John loved all four of them. He really did, but… somebody had to look after them, while he wasn’t at home. So he had to ask either Polly or Ada and he didn’t know what would be worse.

His sister would spread the word of him having a girlfriend faster around than a disease. Maybe she would even spice up the story a little and add some drama just for the fun of it. Then he wasn’t out for a date, but to meet the woman he had impregnated or what else. And Polly, well she was the main reason he was scared to even mention his rendezvous. His aunt had the great talent to investigate his private life like fucking copper. Once she had sniffed something, she wouldn’t let go of it and kept bothering him.

Anyways he had to talk to one of them and the chat wouldn’t be a nice one. A choice between the foul and the evil. Ugh, he was in the mood to flip a coin. There were some on his desk. So why not? He looked around, if anybody was watching him, but he was alone in his office. Then he took a coin from the daily bets and tossed it. Once it was up in the air, he had made up his mind. The coin just proofed it. He should go to Polly and it would fit in his schedule as now was his lunch break and he would eat with the others anyway. If he would go now, he could still catch her alone in the kitchen. A grunt left his lips while he stood up from his chair. His pace was steady, but fast as he made his way through the betting shop. Luckily nobody noticed that he left his table a little too early.

He had never opened or closed a door as quietly as in this exact moment. “Polly?”, he had asked in a careful tone into the empty room. John heard movements from the kitchen. Suddenly her head peaked around the corner. “Yes, John?” She had emphasized every syllable as if he was stupid. Maybe he was just not ready to have this talk. On the other hand he had no chance. This was a now or never situation and he preferred now over never.

John gathered all his courage to approach her: “Would you do me a little favor?” All the sudden his hands were sweaty and no matter how many times he had rubbed them on his pants, it wouldn’t get any less smeary. Usually he wasn’t so nice and polite to his relatives. It was more like he had earned the title arrogant brat rightfully. He scratched his neck and gave her his best puppy eyes. And just to top it off his angelic smile, which had saved him many times before. Most of the times, he could avoid the consequences of his own actions with his charming smirk.

But today it didn’t help. Polly just shook her head. “What is it this time?”

“Just a little thing”, he began, then paused to take a deep breath and gain courage to exclaim his wish: “Can you watch the kids this evening? It’s really important.”

His aunt froze mid movement and starred at him. After a while she started blinking. Her glare was concerning. “Why this time? The last time was just a week ago. Another task from Tommy? He didn’t talked to me about this.”

John pressed his teeth again and shook his head. He looked at the roof and searched for the right words to explain his situation. Why was this so difficult? It was just a date. Yet it felt like so much more.

The Shelby sighed, while his hand was fumbling with his lighter in the pocket of his pants. “I’m meeting someone” was his short answer to a complex problem.

“Did Tommy ask you to?”, she asked once again. No matter if it was business or his private life, Polly liked to be up to date.

Again he shook his head. “No, not Tommy, but it’s still important. So would you please help me?”

Polly clucked her tongue and hurried back to the kitchen. John followed her and leaned against the door frame, waiting for his answer.

“Well, I got a meeting too, so you better change the appointment with said woman, because I don’t want to change my plans for you”, she replied, while stirring a pot. Afterwards she tapped the wooden spoon against the pot and turned around. “Lunch is ready. Better get your brothers, so we can eat.”

Apparently the conversation was over, because it really started, but John wouldn’t give up right away. “But I can’t”, he protested: “That’s the only night she is available and I don’t know how to reach her.”

Without looking at him, she walked right back into the living room and started putting dished on the table. “Ahh, see? I was right about the woman part… But why do you want to meet somebody you barely know?” Her question was reasonable.

John was so lost in his thought about her and yet he had no answer. No good ones. So he just said the next best thing: “I won a bet and I want to see her.”

Right when he said that his brother came in. Arthur widened his eyes and scratched his chin. “Want to see who?”, he asked. It was horrible how nosy his family was.

There was no peaceful day at the Shelby household. Never ever.

“He has a new girl, but he doesn’t know anything about her”, Polly retorted, before John even had the chance to answer himself.

Arthur chuckled and added: “Oh, Our John was never a man for talking. Right, John boy?”

They had to be fucking kidding him. It felt like he was sixteen again and started to meeting Martha. This was so embarrassing. John nodded slowly and gave his brother a false laugh.

“Well, we had other things to do”, John objected and it wasn’t quite the truth, but close enough. There was just no explanation why he was drawn to this woman, who was a stranger to him, but oh, those kisses really worked some crazy magic on him.

His brother burst out in laughter and slapped his hand on John’s back. “Oh, I know! I fucking know what you mean”, he exclaimed: “Why talk, when you can have fun with a woman?”

And right now, John couldn’t agree less. He wanted to talk with the mysterious woman, but she rushed off into the night before he could even say goodbye to her. Damn, he wished he knew more about her, maybe then he wouldn’t be so nervous right now. The Shelby didn’t feel like his usual cheeky, charming self, more like fucking train wreck.

His face got gleaming red, but he tried to act like was completely cool with it. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to sleep with her. Gosh, what wouldn’t he give to spend the night with her?

“Pol, you see John’s face. He is red like a crayfish”, Arthur joked and pulled his little brother into a headlock.

Their aunt walked around them, very carefully as she was carrying the big steam pot. She sounded like she was mentally everywhere else, when she murmured: “Yes, Arthur, I see it- shameful red- but now it’s time for lunch, so release your brother and come sit.” Somehow Polly managed to phrase it exactly like their mom used to say it, even though she was only three years older than Arthur, but he’d still respect her.

So he did what she asked him to do and let John go again to take a seat at the table.

It was the perfect timing to beg Polly once again, because he didn’t want to have the same conversation with his sister. “Polly, Please”, he insisted: “I wouldn’t ask you, if it wasn’t really important to me.”

“What is so important about one woman, that you have the great urge to meet her?”

That was the question he was asking himself all week, but okay. Now he needed to come up with an answer or otherwise he would have to get comfortable with the thought he would never see her again.

He licked his lips as he assembled the words in his brain to a convincing answer. “She has…”, he began, but then he got lost again.

“Huge cans?”, Arthur purposed with a big smile on his face.

But John shook his head: “Not that, her tits are average, there is something else about her and I can’t say what yet, that’s why I need to find out…. Or I go crazy.”

He turned to Polly and put on his puppy eyes again. “Do you want me to go crazy, Polly?”

Pol pouted and sighed. “Fine, you get your will again, but that’s the last time and don’t ever bother me with this again.”

His eyes shined bright in the lights of success and more importantly… winning an argument with his aunt. “Thank you and I’ll never bother you again.”

The matriarch went her way around her reign and said to herself: “We’ll see about that.”

Now this problem found its solution, the next question popped up in his head. Where were his kids? Because he was so caught up with his date, he had forgotten to pick them up from school. It wasn’t a serious issue. Three of them could walk home on their own, but the youngest was a different thing.

In his memory of this day, he had left Katie here, but she wasn’t running around like usually. “Pol, where are the kids?”

“The kids?”, she observed: “Oh, the kids you want to get rid of? You mean… those kids? They are upstairs.”

John grunted. That was far from reality and his aunt should know that. “That’s bullshit. I don’t want to get rid of them.”

“Then act like you care for them once instead of fucking around and I might believe you”, Polly chided and gave him the mean side eye, while she filled the plates with stew.

And she acted like a real bitch lately, John wanted to add, but bid his lip to stop himself from saying something he would regret deeply. It was so annoying how she tried to make him feel guilty for having a night off. He was so sick of this. Either he was working or he was with his kids and he had little or no time for himself. Just the few hours when they were asleep and he could go to the Garrison for a beer or two.

“It’s just one date!”, he yelled, but then clenched his fists and swallowed his anger and repeated quietly: “It’s just one date.”

The room was quiet now. Nobody said or did anything for a while.

Then Polly started moving again and explained: “You should focus on getting a wife and not play around with some floosy girl… but you’re an adult now, John, so do whatever you want… just don’t drag me into your mess.”

John nodded and went upstairs to get his kids. Yes, he was still bitter about the things Polly said to him, but he wouldn’t let this ruin his day. After all he had plans. Maybe he gripped the banister a little too tight, well, at least he didn’t bellowed at his children, when he found them making a mess in his old room.

All four were sitting here and around them were all the toys they had. Most of them were his old toys or some from his brothers.

“Lunch is ready”, he grunted and waited for them to get up, so they would follow him. They just stared at him with wide eyes.

His oldest daughter was the first to talk: “We heard you yell at Aunt Polly…”

He didn’t answer instead he just moaned and leaned against the wall.

“You’re away tonight”, she added and tilted her head. There was curiosity in her eyes. It didn’t bother him, but something else did. She had the same eyes as her mother. Like a dagger it pierced his heart, whenever she gave him this look. Martha used to do this as well.

Slowly he nodded. He couldn’t lie to his kids at all. “Yes, but you’ll be staying here and Polly will bring you home, when it’s bed time.”

Breanna thought about this for a second and then like this whole conversation had never happened, she stood up and helped her little sister to get on her feet as well. “Well, it’s time for lunch now”, she declared and look at her twin brother: “C’mon, James, we still got homework to do.”

Now that she was standing, John could see how small she was actually. Sometimes he forgot, she was still a child, but the way she acted was different. His oldest daughter had picked up a lot from Polly and her mother, while he was in France. However he tried to not treat her like an adult. She wasn’t and her childhood shouldn’t be ripped from her. Breanna didn’t need to protect her siblings from anything and yet she still thought it was her job.

James on the other hand was quite the opposite. Loud, angry, such a brat, he picked up fight, whenever he could, much like his father at that age.

Luckily his older brother Colin was also a voice of reason and not as chaotic as James. Colin was the oldest and he didn’t actually talk much, but on somedays and with certain persons he wouldn’t shut up. Most of the time Colin did good in school, read a lot, unlike his uncle Finn who was just five years older than him. And more importantly… Colin did everything his father asked him to.

And then here was Katie, the youngest. Just three years old and a sweet girl, but she was of fragile condition. She was born prematurely and was also the reason why Martha died. John tried to ignore the fact, because even though she was the reason, it wasn’t her fault. How could she? She didn’t pick her time to be born. However from time to time, Katie managed to make him cry. After the war, he rarely shed tears, but every time she was sick and he had to go with her to the hospital, he lost his nerves. She was still his little baby and the thought of losing her too wrecked him.

They were all on their way downstairs and John followed them back. He held Katie’s hands while walking down the stairs.

The lunch was very silent. There was still tension left in the room, but John didn’t cared. Katie was sitting on his lap and they both ate from the same plate, like they always did. But it wasn’t a cute ritual, more like a space problem, with all the family members around the table, it was a little cramped. Too cramped for Katie to have her own stool. Another reason, why he needed a wife. So he and his family could eat in his kitchen and they would all have enough space again.

A part of John was worried Polly or Arthur mentioned his date to Tommy, who would gladly take the opportunity to ruin his day. His older brother would pick all the question, John had been asking all week and then make him look stupid in front of the whole family. But apparently Polly was too pissed about the fight to say anything that day and John thanked god for this.

Somehow Katie spilled the stew all over his pants, but he had no time to go back home and change his pants. He still needed to finish the books and after that, he could get dressed for his date.

So John sat in his office in a damp suit and tried to fix what he did wrong before lunch.

Maybe the luck was on his side today after all, because he managed to get everything done early. Somethings didn’t went as smooth as he had wished for, but at least it worked out so well, that he could go to the date and it was still a win for him.

As fast as possible without running he walked home and sprinted up the stairs to the master bedroom. Now he could change his cloths and he was indeed very happy about it. The stew had dried on his leg, which made his skin itchy. Basically he ripped his clothes off the second he arrived in his room.

“Fuck.” A curse left his lips, because he got stuck in his pants and almost hit the floor. Last second he got his balance back and then threw his pants in the opposite direction. He could care about this later.

First he had to clean the stains from his body. So he rushed to the kitchen, just in his underwear and rubbed his leg with a wet cloth. This had to be enough. With the time he had left, he couldn’t take a bath.

Back in his room again, he stood in front of the cabinet and picked the first suit he had in his hand. There was no discussion about this. Suits were suits and he had plenty of them, all of them looked good on him and she wouldn’t even mind, would she?

While he button up his shirt, he stopped all the sudden. What if she would mind? Slowly he walked backwards to the cabinet. Should he wear his Sunday suit? Thought and thoughts came rushing in. She seemed like a fine lady, but yet she agreed to meet with him. Maybe she wouldn’t, if it wasn’t for the bet.

He got headache since his argument with Polly and it got worse. Maybe he would go to the spot, where they should meet and she wasn’t there. The possibility, that she tricked him, hadn’t occurred in his mind until now.

Honestly, John felt so stupid, when he realized how weird the coincidence was. What were his chances to be so lucky? To meet a beautiful, wealthy and unmarried woman, who was also funny and charming and mysterious and he could find a ton more of adjectives to describe her? And then win the round and the bet, he had made with her? What were his chances for that? So either he was one of the luckiest men in this world or a goddamn idiot.

Or maybe… his mind tricked him. He was pretty drunk after all and in his twisted mind the details of this scene got lost. Maybe he didn’t win the round, but because he wished so bad for it, he had changed his memory of that said night. Maybe he was so lonely he made up this perfect woman, because he couldn’t bare his poor existence anymore.

And did he think about his stupid suit so much?

Yes, he was nervous, but this was no explanation for this nonsense.

Right now, John was freaking out about a woman he barely knew. It reminded him of a time, where he did the same thing… but with Martha, a girl he had known all his life. Back then and today he was well aware of why he was so nervous around his first wife. He loved her and he was afraid of saying or doing something very stupid.

But he didn’t loved that Russian woman. He couldn’t, not after only one kiss. It was impossible and yet the kiss felt so real. The memory of her lips was burned into his mind and it drove him crazy.

And he didn’t know, why he had this feeling, which wasn’t love and he didn’t even know what it was, and suddenly he had more questions in his head than he ever had in his whole life.

Usually, he didn’t think that much about anything. He wasn’t the guy who put much thought into every little thing that happened around him.

Everything he wanted to do now was to yell. He couldn’t even put his frustration into words anymore. His head was full of white noise.

Barefooted he stood on the wooden floor of his bedroom, which he used to share with the love of his life. John took a few deep breaths and looked around. Everything was still the same. After the war he had no energy to change something in here, even though it was just fueling his mental health issues. There was still her cabinet with her dresses and her stuff and sometimes when he was particularly lonely, he felt the fabric and imagined her soft body under it. It didn’t smell like Martha anymore, but sometimes he wished.

It felt like suffocating. He couldn’t breathe nor cry, even though tears filled his eyes.

He walked over to his nightstand and looked at the photograph of her. “You don’t get to fucking judge me”, he whispered: “Like you always did. You died and I’m still here and I love you and I always will, but don’t ruin this for me.”

“You put all these questions in my head, so I’ll fuck up and ruin everything”, he argued… with his dead wife like she was there. And he could imagine her so well, standing next to him with her arms crossed in front of her chest and that piercing look in her eyes.

Even before she died, he talked a lot to her and about her and sometimes just to himself, but it just got worse, when he came home from France. He can’t handle the silence in the room nor the void his head. Suddenly he said with a soft voice: “I know, what I promised you back then and when I made that promise, I believed every word of it, but you can’t be the only woman I’ll ever love now. You are dead.”

He wasn’t there when she died and the worst part was… he hadn’t even known until he got home. Polly said, she was about to write a letter, but then she couldn’t, because she didn’t want to bother him, while he was in the trenches. Of course, he had worries, when he didn’t get a letter from his wife in months. John just thought she was mad at him, because she was pregnant again while he was away. And then he came home and his house was empty. No Martha and no kids. So he walked back to Polly’s Place and then she told him. His wife was dead and he was surrounded by his family, but he had never felt so lonely in the world.

To this very day, this memory haunted him in the worst way.

And yet, he refused to crumble right away. Not before it had even started. Life was going on and he refused to just stand there, while the time passed. He would walk, run away from this memory if he had to.

“Let me try it at least”, he bargained: “You don’t know her and neither do I. She could be a beast, a real bitch and maybe, just maybe I don’t want to see her again. And maybe I’ll do, but that’s not your decision. I make my own decisions now, because that’s how things work for the living people, Martha.”

It hurt to say her name, but he had to. The word had so much power over him and he took this power back, by saying it. Then he flipped the photograph over and walked back to the cabinet.

Without a second doubt he picked his finest suit and just like that Martha was gone. She would come back eventually, but right now he had other things to do. Like do his hair and drink a little sip of whiskey for confidence.

With a toothpick in his mouth, he left the house and walked the road. All alone.

#john shelby #peaky #peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fooking #peaky fanfic #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders john #john shelby x oc #john shelby x #johnboy #dead wife

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thenextchapter22 · 4 years ago

Text

Angel of the Three Realms

Description: You were an Angel who went to the human world to escape punishment for loving Lucifer only to be brought back into his life, this time in the Devildom where you pretend to be human.

Warnings: Unrequited Love, Angst, WIP

Pairing(s): Lucifer/Reader

Word Count: 5334

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Author’s Notes: I’m pretty happy with how this story is going so far, and I really hope you enjoy reading it. I posted all the chapters I had written on AO3 here in one post, so expect a different post for the new chapter coming soon ;)

_+_

You had been in the Devildom for 6 months and it was going pretty well. You did above average in classes, got along with all of the brothers and the other students (although Solomon was strange and trusting him was a bit of a stretch). The only difficult part was being around one specific demon brother… Lucifer.

He had no idea who you really were. And how could he? It had been centuries upon centuries since he’d seen you, and he probably thought you dead after all that happened. He, in all probability, forgot all about you. That made you a little bit sad considering what he was to you.

Long before the Great War you had lived in the Celestial Realm. You were an Angel of God. A pure-hearted, innocent creature born with nothing but kindness in your heart. And the Angel assigned to you at your birth to train you and show you the way of the world was Lucifer Morningstar, the Light of the Heavens.

He brought you up. He was your whole life, always there to correct you if you were wrong, praise you when you were doing well, and he never failed in making you smile. Yes, you knew his brothers. Mammon especially, he was a good-hearted being who always protected you. And he did the same in the Devildom, so nothing had really changed there. But Lucifer was your main protector.

When you fell in love with him, you knew things would be difficult. How could you not fall in love with such a kind person, who always looked after you and his brothers, who always showed you so much attention despite what else he had to do?

It was forbidden for Angel’s to fall in love with other Angel’s. Why, you did not know. Love was something that should be allowed for all. It wasn’t easy living with this love, knowing if you let it free, that if you did tell Lucifer you loved him, you might be punished. Maybe even erased from existence. Your father wasn’t usually so cruel and hate wasn’t often found in Angels, but you hated him. You never wanted to hear him speak to you again. And so, with no way around it, you had to leave.

You fell to the Human world where you started a new life. And a new life again. And another new life after that. Always moving, changing, adapting. Humans were inventive and inquisitive by nature. You never lost the love in your heart for Lucifer, but you had a new life on Earth’s surface that you fell in love with, too. Eventually, this love favored the first, and you moved on, albeit regrettably. Occasionally you wondered how he was doing, and if he ever thought of you.

To say you were shocked when you first got dragged into this realm was an understatement. And you made the split second decision to go along with it all, pretending to be human. Was it stupid? Maybe. But you had spent so long being human, you couldn’t stop now. You knew of the war, you knew of the Angel’s falling to the Devildom, but seeing Lucifer, two wings less and darkened, ruby red eyes still as bright, and a curious black crystal on his forehead, was a shock. He was so beautiful in his new darkened form.

The love sprouted once more. And once more, you hid it. The pain in your heart was tenfold being close to him again in almost the same roles as before. He was your confident, your go-to in this Realm. He made sure you were treated well. Lucifer looked after you like his own blood, stricter than he used to be, and he looked tired most of the time. His newfound loyalty for Diavolo was strange, but you supposed it was a good thing being close to the eventual Demon King (where the current one was, no one knew).

Now, sitting in your quaint little room, looking at the sky, all you could think about was home. Home, the human world home.

One thing you missed was flying. In the Human realm you could visit the snowy mountains and fly around with some of the magic you were able to hold onto to cloak you in case humans saw. Before cameras you didn’t care to do that, but now you couldn’t risk it. Here it was impossible. Someone would sense the magic and find you out, and then what would happen. You didn’t want to think on it.

Another thing was your wings were itching. Grooming was hard throughout the years, but you found friends in the animals of the world, mostly the winged creatures. Owls were your closest friends in the animal kingdom. They helped pluck the old feathers as well as the twisted ones, and in turn you helped them however you could. Having not groomed them in almost 7 months now…

You longed to let them free, but could not. 6 more months and you would go back. But did you want to? Leave Lucifer, this place? You were learning so much from everyone. Lord Diavolo really wanted peace between all and it was incredible how he was connecting all types of beings. Demons, humans, warlocks, Angels.

Angels. Surprisingly, Simeon did not realize what you were. Or if he did, he never spoke up. Angels were pretty observant of other Celestial magics and you were using that to hide your wings daily and nightly here. At first it was only daily, up until Mammon barged into your room and demanded to sleep with you (not in that sense, thankfully) so you very quickly hid them. Lucky you hadn’t been asleep fully.

Wincing, you stretched your arms above your head. It was nearing midnight and you could not sleep from the pain that was ever growing the more you moved around. Maybe a late night snack would help, or something warm to drink.

Venturing to the kitchens, you were unsurprised to see Beel stacking a plate, his mouth stuffed with food.

He quickly swallowed and smiled at you. “Hi. It’s late, can’t sleep?”

You shook your head, smiling softly. “No, I thought I’d get something to eat or drink.”

Beel was so kind to you. You never had many interactions with him above, but when you saw him he always smiled and waved at you, his younger twin attached to his hand. They were inseparable. Nothing had changed with that. Only that Beel ate a lot, and Belphegor slept a lot. It was quite adorable.

“There’s some milk if you want to heat it up. I heard human’s do that to help them sleep. Or I could ask Belphie to help you?”

No, that wouldn’t be a good idea at all. Who knows what being put under by him would do, it may release the magic on your wings from too deep a slumber. “Thank you. I’ll try the milk first and then see.”

He nodded. “Okay. Night then. If I doesn’t work you can come to our room.” And he walked away with his plate of food, munching as he walked.

Chuckling, you shook your head. “Goodnight!” you called to his back.

The pain in your back was growing worse. Warm milk wouldn’t help much, you needed your wings to be freed. You grit your teeth as you moved about the kitchen, feeling the veil of magic rippling at your back. You set a pot of milk on the stove and heated it.

Moving about the kitchen was making you pant, and you had to brace your arms on the counter, keeping your back straight to try and keep the pain minimal.

“Hnng. Fuck.” Yes, in the human world you grew to love curse words. Your father never took your wings away or your immortality, so he must not have cared. Or maybe he didn’t notice.

“Are you all right, my dear?” Lucifer’s voice rang out in the echoed kitchen.

You stood up so quickly the pain was incredible. You felt your body tremble, and you longed to sprout your wings to ease some of the aching.

Lucifer wrapped his arm around your waist, and you held in a scream. He furrowed his brows and let go, instead taking your hand and squeezing it. “What can I do to ease your pain?”

You panted. “N-nothing. Please just g-go.”

He shook his head. “No, I won’t leave you like this. What ails you?”

Damn him and his kind heart. “You can’t fix it, I just have to deal with the pain for now.”

He helped you sit, but you did so stiffly and kept a perfectly straight posture. His hand never left yours. “I won’t accept that. There must be something we can do. Tell me what happened. Did you fall? Are you ill?” He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, then down across your cheeks. “You have no fever but your face is contorted in pain.”

This was unbearable, having him coddle you when all you wanted was to jump into his arms and have him take care of you. He used to groom your wings when you were growing up, and he showed you how to do the same. His gentle fingers running through your feathers put you in a trance and he used to tease you about it.

Lucifer only wanted to see you well. The problem was, you could not allow it, lest he find out your secret. “I’m sorry, Lucifer,” you whispered. “Really I am. If I could let you help me, I would in a heartbeat.”

The pot with milk was over boiling now, and he quickly stood the take care of it. You lowered your face to the table and grit your teeth, sharp pricks at your back causing spasm after spasm. Tears fell from your eyes. The pain was steadily increasing, and you did not know why the timing of this had to be this way. Why he had to be the one to see you in such a state.

His hand on your shoulder squeezed lightly once before letting go. “Let me at least help you to bed.”

Bed, yes, that sounded fantastic. “Okay…”

He held your hand and kept one hand wrapped around your lower half, resting on your hip. It wasn’t near the area where your wings sprouted from so he could place his arm across you there without making you cry out in pain.

The trip back to your room was long and grueling. Lucifer kept a good hold on you, whispering softly each time you sobbed out a curse word or cried.

“I have you, sweetheart, take your time.”

You wished you could just tell him everything. How you were not human, why you were in so much pain, that all you ever wanted was to kiss and hold him and express your love. But you could only press you cheek to his chest and have him guide you to your room where he tucked you under the sheets and comforter.

You curled on your side, gazing at his dark figure towering over you. “Don’t leave me, stay…”

“I’ll stay with you, I promise.” He stroked his fingers over your trembling brow, and, with shock on your pained expression, he kissed the very same place gently, lips soft and warm.

You began to cry, overwhelmed with pain and emotion. He shushed your cries and wiped away the wetness under your eyes. “Don’t cry, my dove, just sleep and rest.”

Lucifer’s kind face, hovering inches from your own, was the last you saw before you fell asleep. The pain luring you into a dreamless slumber.

Waking up some hours later, you felt exhausted. The sun was rising through the window. Sweat gathered on your body. It was apparent what would happen the second you became aware. You had trouble keeping the magic holding your wings in. You shut your eyes with a sigh, and succumbed to the feeling of letting it all go. The choice was no longer your own, the magic was leaving you, and the wings you kept concealed away would burst free any minute.

They would all know. And you only hoped they wouldn’t despise you for what you hid from them. You prayed for the first time since falling from the skies that Lucifer would forgive you.

_+_

Lying in bed, coated in cooled sweat, waiting for the inevitable to happen, was honestly one of the worst things you had experienced. Considering you had chosen to fall from Heaven, that said a lot. It was right up there with loving Lucifer and not having the ability to tell him lest you be cast out or killed, and with the first days you had on the surface world where you had been so lost and alone, scrambling from town to town trying to find a place to belong.

The agony suffocated you. It effected your breathing, which was staggered and strained, and your muscles were tense. You felt a fever building inside of you as you tried to hold on and not go into shock. Your magic was like a thin sheet of breakable glass waiting to shatter. With all your strength, which was not much, you grasped onto it, wanting to keep normal for even just a little longer.

You shivered as you watched the sun rise higher in the window above your bed. It was red and bright and large, blinding you, but it kept you focused on one thing instead of being reminded of what would happen in the next hours, or even minutes.

The secrets would be out for all to see. You would either be cast out of the Devildom, possibly struck down by Diavolo for your lies, or maybe Barbatos would erase you from time itself. The thought was terrifying.

The only people you knew who wouldn’t hurt you or despise you were Simeon and Luke, and that was only because they were Angels. The possibility they would hate you was 1 in a million.

You moved to lay on your stomach. Slowly but surely you found a position that wasn’t too excruciating. Now you just waited. Time wasn’t something you looked at, even with the clock right there on your bedside table. It must’ve been time for everyone to be heading to breakfast by now. Lucifer would probably come to check on you as he had put you to bed last night. But you wondered who would see you first, and how they would react.

The magic was rippling, shaking around you. If you let it go voluntarily or not it would be the same result either way. Maybe if you had just let it go a few nights ago it wouldn’t have been so bad. But it was too late to dwell on the past.

Celestial magic exploded around you, and your wings burst from your back. You screamed, fingers clutching the pillow you pressed your face into. Your head spun, and your wings felt like the most fragile part of you, as if it was the first time they had been free. There was a scent of your blood in the air along with the scent of Celestial magic, a bitter coppery smell with a hint of cool air and crackling lightning. White feathers scattered around you, some tinged with blood. The air was like static electricity. Your wings lay limp, cascading down the bed to the floor. Tears filled your eyes, and you were sure you bit your tongue.

“Nnnggg…” you groaned, keeping still so as not to cause any more pain.

You had no idea how long you lay there. Twitching occasionally, throat clenched and burning. Eventually frantic knocks came on your door, and although your ears were ringing you heard the demon brothers’ voices asking for you, making sure you were okay, wondering what had happened. Why they couldn’t get in was strange, until you realized your magic had exploded outward and created a barrier that blocked the door.

“Move so I can open the door.” Lucifer. He sounded angry.

His infernal magic pressed to your own, and his power was greater than yours so it took no time at all for the door to fall.

You blearily glanced to the open doorway, the door flat on the floor broken off the hinges. And there he stood in all his demon glory. Light bringer Morningstar reversed, dark energy radiated from him. You watched as a smoky fog emerged from the diamond on his forehead. Was this the source of his power, where he held all his magic? The other’s stood behind him in a bundle, all in demonic forms, and all with shocked expressions at seeing you as you truly were meant to be. An Angel, albeit a broken one.

“H-how—?” Lucifer stepped in further, confused and wary. He glanced at your bent and bloodied wings, and then at your face. Searching for something, an answer maybe. You knew that there was no halo, that was something that disappeared as soon as you fell, but your skin was most likely changed, glowing with the light of Heaven, and your eyes no doubt were brightened as well. “How is this possible?”

You shut your eyes, your body shutting down. You couldn’t keep awake, it was as if the energy in your body was totally gone.

Your last words before you passed out were spoken softly and only towards one person. “I’m sorry…”

Darkness took you away, and you floated into it, happy to finally escape the pain.

_+_

Burning, you were burning when you came to. Did they shove you into the flames of Hell? Was this the repercussion you truly deserved for all the lies? It was harsh, but there was nothing you could do but burn.

Whimpering, you tried to move but a force held you down, a cool sensation on the back of your neck. You cried out, afraid of what would happen next.

“Shh. Your safe, calm down. It’ll be all right.”

Simeon? “Wh-what?” your throat ached, it was so dry. You tried to focus, and felt no flames licking at your skin, but a cushioned bed beneath you, where you lay on your stomach. You tried to open your eyes, but they felt glued shut from tears that dried up.

“Here, you need to drink water.”

A straw pressed to your lips, and you sucked in the refreshing liquid. Swallowing was hard to do, but the cooling feeling overtook the pain.

His hand was a cool on your forehead, you sighed in the brief relief of the heat. “You have a high fever. You need to rest some more.”

You trembled. “They hate me, don’t they?” the words were hard to speak, but you had to ask.

He hushed you once again, stroking your hair. “Just sleep now. When you’re well again we will talk.”

So you went back to your dreams, or rather, the nightmares that plagued you. Memories turned dark and evil, some of your time on Earth with friends, others of your time with Lucifer in Heaven. All happy memories that were altered to fill you with nothing but pain.

Your first day of flying, Lucifer cheering you on, clapping and smiling as you floated higher. Then, you fell, and kept falling down and down despite how strongly you flapped your wings. Lucifer was never coming for you, never reaching a hand to pull you back to him and into his arms. You ended up in a dark hole with nothing but bones around you of your once human friends. They die so quickly, humans. You were always alone. Meant to be alone forever. Never able to love and live with that love for the entirety of your lifespan, for it always faded and died. The only true everlasting love you had in your heart was never meant to be.

Voices sporadically came and went as you tossed in your dreamland.

Simeon. “She’s not doing too well. I’ll try my very best to heal her but holding this in for so long was not good for her health. Her wings are… in absolute disarray.”

Lucifer. “Why did she lie to me?”

Asmodeus. “She looks so pale and fragile. Poor thing.”

Mammon. “I remember her... we always looked out for each other. She was always so happy to be around you, Lucifer.”

You heard them speaking and longed to respond back, but you couldn’t find a voice. Drifting in and out, hearing voices, feeling soft touches on your skin and cool hands on your wings. There were moments of sharp pain sometimes when the fingers pressed to the spot where your wings sprouted from, but you were always quickly given a remedy of healing magic from Simeon’s talented hands. But you just wanted this to end and for the suffering to be done with.

It was many days later that you opened your eyes. Like a newborn for the first time, wincing at the bright lights of the room, struggling to focus. Glancing around, it was obvious that this was not your room. It was larger, with tall ceilings, and this bed was huge, your wings barely touched the floor compared to the bed at the House of Lamentation. Where were you?

“You’re in my home.”

You turned your head, still in a position on your stomach. It was Lord Diavolo. He was alone, strange as he usually had Barbatos with him. He wore his usual red suit, but his arms were crossed and he watched you with concern in his bright golden eyes.

You tried to move, to sit up and be a little bit respectful of the Prince, but he quickly strode to you and placed his large hand on your head gently. You froze. “No, don’t try and move. You’re still recovering.”

“I-I don’t—”

He sighed, and pulled a chair to sit next to you, careful of your drooping wings. He gestured to a pitcher of water on the side table. “Are you thirsty?”

You nodded shyly. He helped you drink some water with a hand lifting your head. You were sure you were blushing from feeling the demon Prince’s touch so delicately on your cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He looked at you for a moment, and sighed, his eyes downcast and thoughtful. “This is an interesting circumstance we are in.”

You swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone.”

He frowned. “My dear, all you did was hurt everyone.”

You winced. He spoke bluntly, and the truth, but it hurt a lot to hear it from his lips.

“Lucifer told me who you are. He thought you dead long ago. He was your mentor in the Celestial realm, correct?” You nodded slowly. “Why did you leave there to pretend to be human? He told me you were always so… cheerful. That you both were practically inseparable. The brother’s tell me the same. So why leave all that behind?”

You couldn’t answer him. He just sighed again. “I see. Well, I suppose that will be a conversation once you are fully healed. For now, I’ll have Simeon tend to you now that you’re awake.” He stood up and looked down at you. Diavolo’s gaze seemed to pierce right through your very soul. “Perhaps you will tell me more… or perhaps not. Only time will tell, I suppose. Rest well, my dear. We will speak again soon.” And his footsteps echoed the large room as he left, and you were alone with your thoughts.

What did he want from you? Would he let this be? Would he allow you to stay here? Doubtful, as it was an exchange program for humans and Angels, and you were one of two humans. And were you really counted as either, or both? Were you some strange hybrid being to them, because you lived under the guise of being a human?

There was one question that haunted over you ever since you felt your magic faltering. Would Diavolo take you away from the one place you truly felt at home?

_+_

You felt deflated when Simeon entered the room. Lord Diavolo made you worrisome for what would next happen, or at least what would happen once you were healed again. You found yourself avoiding the Angel’s eyes as he looked at you from his seat on the chair Diavolo just was in.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

You blinked at him, and licked your dry lips. “Sore. Tired.”

He nodded, his hands waving over your upper body, a soft glow emanating from his fingers. “Your feathers are a right mess, darling. Will you allow me to help?”

Help with your wings? You knew what he meant by that, and the question wasn’t startling as you knew it would come considering the damage your magic had done. But this was a very personal thing, letting others groom your wings. You only ever allowed one person to touch your wings: Lucifer. Outside of the creatures on Earth, that is, but they were only animals and it didn’t have as much meaning to you.

There was something inside of you that spoke a loud and firm denial, that no one’s hands would pluck your broken feathers unless those hands belonged to Lucifer Morningstar.

“I-I can’t…”

He sighed, and his gentle hand stroked up and down your exposed arm. “It has to be done. Tell me, then, who will you let help you?”

You felt burning tears fall down to drop onto the pillow. “H-he w-won’t…”

Simeon hummed. “He won’t, hm? I can take one guess as to who that person is. And he’s been so worried for you he has barely slept a wink, pacing the palace floors at all hours, and questioning me constantly on how your health has been.”

You perked up, sniffling. “H-he has?”

Simeon smiled kindly, and his healing magic coursed over your back, soothing the pinpricks of pain caused by your movements. “Lucifer cares about you. I may not have been around him as much since his fall from Heaven but I can tell he never stopped caring for you, my dear.”

“He forgot about me.” You said so dejectedly. If he hadn’t, he would have recalled your face the second you appeared in the Devildom, as the only thing that was different was you had no wings, halo, or heavenly glow around you.

“Dear, we all thought you dead. I assumed your soul was wondering the skies. I am truly sorry I never searched for you to make certain of that.”

Simeon wasn’t present like Lucifer was for you in the Celestial Realm, but he did watch over you when Lucifer could not. It was rare, but it did happen. You occasionally saw him floating around the sky doing work for Michael and your father, but mostly he wasn’t a part of your world, not like Lucifer or his brothers.

“Simeon,” you whispered. “He hates me. Don’t lie to me.”

The Angel’s light was blinding, and his true form revealed itself. You gasped in shock at the sight, it had been quite a while since you had seen any other Angel this way.

He had stunningly pure white wings that expanded outwards behind him, and his blue eyes shimmered like a bright burning star. The halo hovering above his head would cut anything that it touched, a perfect circle of glittering gold, showing his status in Heaven as one of High Regard. His dark skin was encased in an outline of magic so pure it stung your eyes as you hadn’t seen anything like it in so long. He was fierce looking, and yet not, being a creature of pure light. Simeon was as old as Lucifer, if not a bit older even, and he held strength like no one else.

He spoke with authority in his kind voice, booming almost in your ears. “I will never lie to you, nor to any other being. Hear my words because they are the wholesome truth. Lucifer will always have a place in his heart for you even though he has been brought to this darker world.”

You shook from the might in his words. He brought tears to your eyes from the power he spoke with. “Simeon…”

He cupped your cheek, the warmth shocking and overwhelming, his thumb caressing under your eye. He spoke softer, then. “Dear one, if you’ll allow me to I’ll bring Lucifer here to help you. Please let me do this for you. I don’t like seeing such a kind soul in so much pain.”

You pushed into his hand, craving the touch. His words put you under a spell and you couldn’t help but think, maybe he was right. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to have Lucifer here. Would it be like old times? You thought not, so much had changed. But you couldn’t deny the pounding in your heart that said you had to see him, and the truth that you really had no choice that if you wanted to heal, you had to have him aid you.

“Okay,” you answered softly.

He held your cheek for a moment longer, and you felt his magic cascade over you like a protective blanket. “I shall return soon with Lucifer. Keep still until then, your wings should not move lest they become more tangled. Don’t move, do you understand?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Good girl. I’ll be back shortly. If you need me for anything, just call for me. I’ll hear you.”

He meant a prayer. He wanted you to pray for his help. You could not recall the last time a prayer had actually worked for you. Father had forgotten you, Lucifer had forgotten you… Praying was a waste of time.

The seconds ticked by. You let your mind wander to what-ifs, even though it hurt. What if Lucifer was so angry at you that he would take one look at your battered body and leave? What if Lucifer didn’t care for you like Simeon said, and instead hated you so much his magic would tear you apart? What if Lucifer, instead of plucking your feathers, he tore your wings from your body in a rage? These might have been insane imaginings, but they were not impossible. Lucifer had been a demon for a long, long time, and it was true he was still caring towards you while you acted human, but how would he react now? There was no way to know for sure.

Yes, he was your protector above. He was your everything; your father, your confidant, your friend, and your heart longed for him to be your lover.

Now he was something else to you. Still he looked out for you, kept you safe from other demons (not knowing you could if needed use your celestial magic on any who meant you harm), and he made sure you did well in RAD, and he, along with his brothers, thought of you as family. It was all you wanted, after years of searching for something to have as your very own.

Would it all disappear?

The door to the bedroom opened slowly, and you heard Simeon speak. “She’s exhausted emotionally and physically. Please, do what you can to make her well. She needs you.”

He entered the room. It was silent, and he didn’t move, simply watching you from where he stood before the shut door.

So you spoke for him. “Hello, Lucifer.”

Heels clacked and eventually he stood at your bedside. What an imposing figure he made. He looked at you with deep dark red eyes, near black at the pupils, and a massive aura of magic erupted around him. It wasn’t frightening, it wasn’t overpowering or dark. It was just… him.

He reached a hand to touch your hair, smoothing it back from your face to really look at you. “Hello, my dove.”

#mc x lucifer #shall we date obey me #obey me fanfic #shall we date obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me simeon #shall we date #swd #om #obey me fanfiction #my fics #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me diavolo #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #lucifer x reader

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lune-hime · 4 years ago

Text

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Tea Time # 2 ~ Shower Mishap

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

So these little Tea Times were written as little filler-memory chapters to place in between the main story line.

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

“Y/N.” Hange drawled. She clumsily attempted to sit cross legged along the dining hall bench, her legs not quite folding correctly. When she almost tipped over the side, Erwin used his quick reflexes to snag her by the arm and place her upright. You sloppily turned your head to give her as much undivided attention that your remaining active brain cells could muster.

“Please enlighten everyone on the shower story.” Her request brought a giddy smile to her lips. Levi immediately cast you a quizzical look, his gaze drowning in beer. Your face heated up like an oiled saucepan but thanks to the excessive drinking it made no difference to your already rosy complexion.

“But it might be too unprofessional for the Commander.” You shot a sassy look at Hange over Levi who was seated between the two of you. Alcohol was quite the bold word choice inducer as you definitely would not have phrased your sentence with so much gusto if you were sober.

“What in the fucking hell kind of story is this?” Levi asked darkly, his pupils dilated so far they eclipsed their usual silver. There was a preciseness to his phrase despite it being slurred. Indeed, the only soul at the table who knew of your unintentional shower adventure was your former squad leader. Erwin chuckled softly and Mike quirked an eyebrow at you.

“We drink as friends tonight, Y/N. No one will get you in trouble for just telling a story-” Erwin began his explanation calmly but paused when he locked eyes with Levi’s burning glare. It took what was left of his composure to refrain himself from laughing at the tiny fireball across the table.

“But only tell it if you are comfortable doing so.” The commander flashed a dazzling smile before taking a hearty swig of his drink. The man may have been inebriated but he was still so much more put together than the rest of you. Well, with the exception of Mike of course.

“It’s not that bad, don’t worry about it Vivi.” You reassured the steaming man between giggles. You reached up to gingerly pat his cheek a couple times, his glare turning into an intensely childish pout that he would definitely deny later.

“So you’ll tell it?” Hange chittered, practically vibrating with excitement. You nodded lazily, swaying a bit but steadied by Levi’s secure arm around your waist.

“Okay so, it was during my first few months as a cadet-”

↞♞♘↠

You had come to terms with the fact that you were going to be tired on a daily basis. Since you had joined the cadets it was nonstop physical and tactical training that bored into the innermost parts of your brain and body, immersing you in a constant state of exhaustion. Your grandmother’s war stories about her painful life in the military were indeed accurate (well, yours were much less scandalous than hers); it’s no joke how far the organization pushes every limb, muscle, fiber, and atom within your being.

Which was why you couldn’t be happier that you had an hour of free time to shower after your training session before you had to meet your mentor. Plush towel hanging off your shoulder, you rounded the corner of one of the many hallways of the vast compound and practically skipped into the bathing area.

The steam from the showers was thick at first and obscured the space as you passed through the initial chamber to enter the main bathing area. The only element of the atmosphere that told you other cadets were occupying the room was their loud banter and laughter. Only, it wasn’t the feminine voices you were accustomed to hearing and you’re pretty sure you just heard Connie’s na-

“Y/N!?!?!” A voice shrieked, immediately scuttling to the side upon discovering your arrival. When your vision adjusted to the thick steam, your eyes widened in shock when you spotted Eren's very exposed form through the haze.

"Ohmygodohmygod, Eren I'm so sor-" You blabbed, immediately trying to look anywhere but the boy's nether regions. Before the split second it would have taken to cover your eyes, you were startled by an immense figure in your personal space. The shadow gave you zero time to shield yourself from the Michaelangelo’s David that was possibly the cockiest cadet on the premises.

"Y/N, I didn't know you were so bold. Come to play?" Reiner cooed, smirk widening as he watched your face heat up to the scalding temperature of their showers. He made no effort to hide his manhood, as Eren did, and actually attempted to emphasize it by propping his leg up against one of the benches littered throughout the bath. You were frozen in embarrassment and as much as you wanted to punch him right in the spot he most yearned for you to gaze upon, you couldn't do it.

"Walls, Reiner do you have any shame?" You spat back, your muscles still seized up with your beyond awkward encounter.

"None if it comes to you, sweetheart." He chuckled confidently. Before you could quip back another response, a blur shouting your name dashed towards you and turned your vision black. The hands over your eyes became your sole protector from the copious amounts of naked men.

“I know you are dumb, but you really need to watch where you are going.” Jean scolded from behind you in a hushed tone. You let out the balloon of a breath you had been internalizing. If you hadn’t believed in angels before, Jean sure as hell was your angel now. He abruptly turned around and began waddling the two of you towards the entrance when you heard agile footsteps circling around you. Jean suddenly halted, the unexpected loss of movement sending you flailing.

“Hold up, Jean. Maybe she knew exactly where she was going.” Reiner purred. You felt Jean’s breath quicken against your ear and his grip on your temple tightened momentarily. You didn’t need to physically see Reiner’s face to picture the shit-eating smirk edging its way into his features.

“If you wanted me, Y/N, all you had to do was ask.”

The sound of wet feet against tile grew closer until you felt unwanted puffs of air leaving feather-light touches on your face. Jean suddenly flung you sideways like a cooked noodle, placing himself between you and Reiner and causing you to squeak in surprise.

“Fuck off Reiner. She doesn’t want to see your tiny dick.” Jean spat back. A chorus of snickers resounded through the bathroom.

“She was trying hard just a moment ago to avoid the temptation.” Reiner huffed. His arrogance was like a tough stain that you couldn’t get out, no matter how hard you scrubbed.

“Sadly, I did see it and Jean’s right.” You groaned. Your best friend let out a snort followed by the laughter you could feel rumbling from his chest.

“You must not have gotten a good look at it then-”

"If you don't get out of our way, no one will get the minute pleasure of seeing your dick again." Jean sarcastically threatened.

"Please, Reiner, give it a rest." A soft voice pleaded to your right. You recognized it as a familiar cadet, one Jean had grown quite close to.

"Everyone else besides you is uncomfortable here." Marco's even tone was music to your reddened ears. There was a palpable silence of which you presumed was the soundtrack to an alpha male staring contest. Then, Reiner huffed and backed off seeing that the odds were against him.

"Fine, fine. You know you can always call on me Y/N." Reiner chided before sauntering back into the shower.

"The only call he'll be getting is from the infirmary." You grumbled under your breath.

“Can’t keep it in his pants for five minutes can he?” Jean scoffed lowly as he began leading you to the doorway.

“I mean he’s not wearing pants…” You mumbled, still trying to recover from the overwhelming shock and embarrassment. Jean stopped you at the entrance to the connecting hallway.

"When I let go, don't you dare look behind you." Jean warned, playfully swaying you back and forth.

"Okay just let me go!" You sputtered and swatted his arms before he released you.

You fixed your gaze on the tile walls and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thanks Jean, I owe you one." You said, voice regaining its composure.

"Whatever, just buy me some food when we go into town next." He replied. You heard him turn around and begin padding back to the showers when you realized your shoulder was missing a fluffy presence. Your towel must have fallen off during your steamy showdown.

"Jean wait!!" You exclaimed. You turned around and in the waning of your flustered hysteria forgot you were technically still in the boy's bathroom. Both your and Jean's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"Shit, Y/N what did I say???" Jean exclaimed, hands immediately flying to cover his crotch. You breathed a heavy exhale, feeling the flames scorching your cheeks once more.

"Dammit, I'm sorry! My towel fell-" You sputtered and cursed at yourself for letting the heat flood your brain cells too.

"Ah! Y/N-" Marco appeared with your towel, only he was sporting his birthday suit as well. Oh, this could not get any worse. You were the embodiment of a beet, cheeks puffing in fear and eyes screwing shut.

"I have your towel, I was going to place it by the doorway but-um-here." Marco gently grabbed your hand and placed the towel in it. He laughed nervously and retreated back into the bath.

You turned back around to face opposite of the doorway and slumped your head into your hands exasperatedly.

"You good now?" Jean checked, slight annoyance evident in his tone.

"No." You whimpered in utter mortification.

“Reiner’s just a dick who thinks that everyone wants to see his own.” Jean said with a roll of his eyes.

"It was an accident, so don't worry. Plus this gives me prime blackmail material." He snickered. You shot him the middle finger over your shoulder.

“How am I going to face anyone in that room anymore?” You groaned sadly, the last three minutes of excitement playing on an endless loop within your mortified mind.

“Easy, if they bring it up just kick them on any part of their body you saw today.” Jean snickered.

“But I saw every-” You started to protest and then gasped in horror. Your humiliated expression deepened Jean’s smirk.

"We'll pretend it never happened. Now please, go to the proper bathroom before you play with the crazy lady. You stink."

↞↠

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Hange asked, taking a break from poking at the titan’s dirtied toenail. When her apprentice approached the titan holding area she looked absolutely worn out.

“I have the extreme urge to scratch my eyes out.” You groaned, setting your bag of notes down and crouching in the grass next to her.

“Please don’t, today I need you to help me scratch Bean’s eye instead.”

↞♞♘↠

Levi’s grip threatened to shatter the glass pint as he brought it down onto the table with too much force.

“If we had been together when this happened I would have ripped off every one of their micro cadet penises.” He hissed, the alcohol turning into flames within his eyes.

There was a moment’s pause before the entire squad leader table erupted in laughter. The guffaw rattled the wood paneling and caused confused cadets to turn their heads in shock. Erwin accidentally snorted some of his beer and was now struggling with it coming out of his nose. Seeing the commander in such a state caused the same exact thing to happen to you, the burning of the alcohol hurt almost as much as your stomach did from hilarity. Mike kneed the table so hard that it sent his drink flying at Hange who moved out of the way to dodge it, only to smack into Levi’s chest. The action caused the two of them to double over and flip off the bench which only caused the rest of your table to create a larger cacophony.

Nights spent in cherished company like these were ones you held close to your heart.

#levi #drabble #levi x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #AoT #aot imagine #snk #snk x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #imagine #jean kirschstein #bisexual jean #hange zoe

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gehayi · 4 years ago

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It's possible that Tom Riddle seduced Merope Gaunt & later on she lied to get him to marry her or more likely she had symptoms of a false pregnancy & believed she was pregnant which led her to tell him she's with child. Given the social pressures of the time he left with her & the 2 likely eloped with Merope becoming pregnant later on but when Tom learned of this it lead him to abandon her anyways. What is your view on what really happened between Merope Gaunt & Tom Riddle Senior?

It’s possible, sure, that Merope could have lied about being pregnant or could have read the symptoms of false pregnancy wrong . But...well, I’ve been to school with rich privileged kids, and I find it more believable that Tom Sr. found the silent adoration of the ugly daughter of the local hermit amusing enough to exploit.

I could see him having a bet with his friends about how far he could push this and for how long. I could even see one of his friends dressing up like a minister and Tom going through a mockery of a marriage both to reassure her and to make fun of her. She thinks that it’s strange, of course, but what does she know about how Muggles do things? And meanwhile, Tom Sr. is looking oh-so-serious and he wants this and he wants her and for once in her life, it seems like she has what matters.

Meanwhile, Tom’s friends are stifling their laughter and trying not to meet each other’s eyes for fear that they’ll lose it.

After the fake marriage--who knows how long?--Tom convinces Merope to come with him to London--in April 1926 at the latest. He drives them there, or they take a train. Either way, he arranges the transportation and pays for a hotel room. Maybe he tells her that this is going to be their honeymoon. Maybe he says that they’re going to set up their own house in London. It doesn’t matter to him, as long as the lie works.

Merope isn’t familiar with Muggle cities, Muggle tech of the 1920s, or Muggle money. (She may not even be fully literate; we know that she never went to school and that her father taught her and her brother nothing.) London is an incomprehensible maze to her. And the hotel room is clean and warm and has soft carpets and pictures on the wall. There’s a box that produces music and stories and news. Lights come on with the touch of a button. And she doesn’t have to cook or clean anything. It’s luxury that she’s never dreamt of.

To quote the very wise Ursula Vernon, “Relief feels like happiness, if you don’t know the difference.”

Tom is pleased that she’s so easily satisfied; he doesn’t have to explain to anyone he knows why he’s with this ugly woman. He pays for clothes for her, but he doesn’t take her anywhere. When he’s bored with Merope, he tells her that he has to go out and then parties with his friends. She doesn’t question him. She doesn’t even consider doing so.

In May 1926, there’s a general strike.

Roads all across Britain become impassible. Buses have to barricade their windows. The strikers derail the train the Flying Scotsman in Northumberland. The government declares martial law. It even sends a warship to Newcastle. The world has turned upside down.

Merope hears about all this on the radio; it’s her main form of entertainment. She starts peppering him with questions. Why is the strike happening? Why is everyone so angry?

Tom is shaking and tense and can scarcely think coherently. How can these creatures, these underlings, rebel against the orderly system he’s been part of since birth? And how can this--this daughter of a mere tramp question him?

He yells at her to shut up. He apologizes afterward, and Merope accepts his apology. But the bloom is off the rose now. She knows now that he can be pointlessly cruel, just like her father and brother.

She tries very hard not to know this.

The general strike ends after nine days. Martial law, however, drags on and on. So do transportation problems. And 1.7 million strikers are now out of work. This is not the bright, fun city Tom wanted to visit.

June arrives. By now Merope’s adoration isn’t as intriguing to Tom, and her pregnancy is starting to show as well. Like many men and boys of privileged backgrounds, Tom thinks of pregnancy as something that only happens if the woman wills it. He is sickened and outraged that Merope has gotten pregnant--to trap him, he’s sure--and he chews her out for this.

Merope, though, was painfully isolated while growing up. She knew only her father and brother. Her father warned her repeatedly not to let a Muggle touch her...but he didn’t provide any clarifying details. She had no mother, no sisters, no female friends. She had no education to speak of. Porn was not conveniently available. And she could not read.

So, faced with Tom’s rage, Merope is at sea, for nothing he says is making sense. She doesn’t know how menstruation, conception and pregnancy work. The world hasn’t bothered to tell her.

Also...partying would have eaten into Tom’s money anyway, but the general strike and its disruption of transportation has made goods like food much more expensive. Though Tom doesn’t want to admit it, his funds are running frighteningly low. He needs the good will of his parents to acquire more cash, and quickly He also needs to square matters with the rich, upper-class, utterly suitable young woman he’s actually going to marry while assuring her that the Merope situation is no fault of his.

Arguments begin breaking out daily, then hourly. Tom starts them, taunting Merope’s wall-eyes and ignorance. She despairs when she hears this--after all, mockery and derision are all she’d ever heard from her father and brother. She loves Tom desperately, but he doesn’t love her.

She doesn’t yell, because she’s been trained since childhood not to. Instead, she begs him frantically, frenziedly not to leave her, because he's the one who knows how to handle this incomprehensible city. But her panic repels Tom, who sees it as clingy manipulation. It’s only London, after all. There’s nothing to fear.

So one day he returns home--without telling Merope. She's escorted out of the hotel room shortly after that. He didn’t stiff her with the bill, but not out of kindness. He simply doesn’t want anything, even a bill, tying him to her.

Merope is now alone and adrift in London. No money. No marketable skills. No transportation beyond her own feet--she has no way of paying for buses or cabs, and she may not even know the Underground exists. And no home. It’s August, maybe September of 1926. A rainy August, a mild September. She’s five or six months along. And winter is coming.

It comes in October, with freezing cold for most of the month and a snowstorm on the 28th.

She’s been living rough for a month or two. The clothes she’d worn earlier that year aren’t warm enough for October, and the cold has begun to gnaw at her bones. She's starving, too, and by now she knows that countless Muggles, all more qualified for any job than she is, are also out of work, thanks to May’s general strike.

She doesn’t ask anyone else for help. She should, but Tom was the only Muggle she ever really knew--and he betrayed her. She can’t bring herself to trust another.

And oh, she doesn’t dare go home. Even if she knew where it was and how to get there, her father would beat her to death for polluting the pure line of Gaunt with a Muggle’s get. And her brother Morfin would join in. Happily.

She begs--for food, mostly, though sometimes people give her money. Sometimes, too, they give her advice--to go to a church or a shelter or some government office. Merope nods and smiles and ignores the advice. She’s not going to trust the Muggle government after this past May, and she won’t shelter with dozens of Muggles. That would be suicide.

November 1926 is one of the wettest on record in the UK. Merope falls ill halfway through the month. She’s starting to have trouble breathing, and she’s tired and achy all the time.

December is filled with bitter, Arctic chill.

Merope has little strength left. She’s not getting enough air, somehow, and she’s constantly shaking with heat or cold, she doesn’t know which. Her vision is blurry, and even when she can obtain food, it’s hard to keep it down.

You’re dying, a voice says deep inside, and she knows the voice is right.

One day, she spots a building with lots of people caring for babies and children. She asks meekly, and someone--whoever tossed her a sixpence? another beggar?--tells her it’s an orphanage. Merope doesn’t know what that is, but she knows her baby would be better off inside the building than outside it.

December 31, 1926 is a mild, sunny day. Merope thinks of it as a good omen...until the pains start.

Merope doesn’t know anything about childbirth; she simply feels as if she’s being ripped apart from the inside out. She screams, not even caring if the Muggles hear.

Somehow, somehow, she manages to limp and crawl to the orphanage. She knocks on the door, which is the bravest thing she’s ever done. But her baby can’t survive a winter on the street. Maybe the Muggles will take care of him if they don’t know his mother was a witch.

She doesn’t even notice that she’s thinking of herself in the past tense.

A woman named Mrs. Cole answers the door and bustles her into a spare bedroom. It’s still unbearably cold, so cold that Merope thinks that her bones will shatter from shaking so hard, but there’s light and color and oh, it reminds her of the hotel room before everything went wrong. And Mrs. Cole is speaking to her in a kind, soothing tone and letting Merope grip her arms when the pains are bad. For the first time since Tom, Merope feels valued. Safe.

Her son is born at a minute to midnight, a scrawny scrap of humanity. Small wonder. Merope’s had little enough to eat for months. He has good strong lungs, though, which pleases her in a dim way. The world seems to be fading away, but that’s all right. She just wants to sleep.

She hears Mrs. Cole asking her something. Not her name--she told Mrs. Cole that before. Oh! The baby’s name.

There’s only one name she could give him--the one Muggle name that means anything to her.

“Tom,” she murmurs. “Tom...Riddle...Jun--”

And a soothing darkness claims her.

#mrardin85 #ficlet #merope gaunt #merope/tom sr #harry potter #complete disaster

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adiabolikpastel · 3 years ago

Text

Title: Lunar Eclipse Masquerade

Shu pt. 2

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2,577

Pairing: Shu x ? (m/f)

ღ Being in charge is not easy for someone who hates pressure. As Shu attempt to run from his responsibilities, another one arrives - much to his dismay. ღ

Mun Yu: We made it to the second wave of LEM. I hope you all enjoyed the set up, and are ready for the main event. Our Lunar Eclipse is in full swing as the masquerade beings. These chapters will be longer.

Additionally: I would love to thank @dialovers-translations for translating the Shu and Reiji versus CD which show cased them during the Lunar Eclipse. It helped me greatly to write his personality.

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ﾟ｡. +ﾟ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

Despite what most people think, demonic beings are very social creatures. The elites hold countless balls and parties, celebrating their immortality together, and entertaining one another with stories. Typically, they are done in celebration for something – though this is not always the case. All types of beings from across the Demon Realm will come if the host is of high enough prestige.

There would be no such host if it was not for Karlheinz. Seated as the head of the Bat Clan (vampires), Karl’s reach spans far. Being the widow for the former Demon King’s daughter, and having children of the first blood, an invitation from the Vampire King is not one to refuse. Though why would you? In his immaculate castle within the Demon Realm, Eden Castle, it is always quite the spectacle. While the celebrations held in his Human World mansion are nice, nothing compares to a true night of pleasure within the true home of the King.

On this night, there was to be a Masquerade in honor of the first Lunar Eclipsed Moon in over two years. While this night may serve each species differently, the idea to celebrate its return was simply too tempting. For this reason, Karlheinz took it upon himself – or rather – his house, to host the event. This extended to his offspring as well, regardless of their personal agenda. Members of every social elite race accepted the offer, and gathered for a truly unforgettable evening.

So nosey. That was the only thought going through Shu’s mind as he arrived to this unnecessary event. There were so many guest in attendance, part of him felt it was a personal attack from his father. The man knew everything – so he found it hard to believe that he and Reiji could actually attempt to surprise him. That thought alone made him weary to even come, but it was better to follow orders than to disobey. He’d learned that lesson long ago.

Before coming to Eden Castle, it was rather nice to be back in the old mansion. He’d been gone for a year – being able to nap in all his old places was great. Not to mention, two of the louder brothers weren’t in the house – it was perfect. Then again, Subaru and Kanato were noisy on their own. Not to mention seeing Akumu – that was... a thing.

Not that things had ended badly between the two – far from it actually. Akumu’s place simply wasn’t meant to be at his side forever. Despite any attachment that may form. Subaru was going to have a much harder time letting go than Shu did. For him it was as simple as telling him that he was leaving. In typical Akumu fashion, the robo-boy simply nodded. That was something Shu liked about Akumu though, there was never any pressure with him.

Things were easy, because there wasn’t really anything to get. He was simply there to be used as needed for whatever was needed. Simple. No attachments. Shu had every intention to keep things that way. Hell, even during his short time back in the house, he used Akumu’s body to soothe some needs. Honestly, Shu felt like that was the type of relationship he could have forever. No stress. No expectations.

With all of his brothers finding some kind of ‘love’, Shu found himself thinking on the topic in passing. Though he never gave anything much thought. Especially since Reiji approved him with this new task – his fate seemed to remain alone. It would be cruel to bring someone into this, not to mention his own personal baggage. This was easier. Better even. The relationships his siblings had were so much effort – though that may steam from them being with humans. Shu could never see himself with something so common as one.

Now here at this party, however, he could see the appeal of having a partner. It was bothersome to have to be alone in a place like this. There was nowhere to sleep, and of course Reiji wouldn’t just let him make an appearance and then leave. His brother went so far as to have him stay close and actually speak with people. It was draining. The same phrases on loop. Again and again. To faceless person after faceless person. Shu could care less about any of these people.

Reiji urged him that these would be his people, if their plan came through. The idea made things slightly more bearable, but there would always be a certain disconnect between Shu and the rest of the world. How could there not be. He made that barrier long ago. After losing the one thing in life that made him happy. Even after learning that his friend was alive, that didn’t change the years of grief and torment. But now wasn’t the time for all that. Stand up straight. Smile. Pretend. If this was just a sample of what was to come, Shu was having major second thoughts.

The stress of dealing with so many people each day. Throwing parties for stupid events. Living each day under constant watch. Honestly, it was overwhelming. So much so that, he had to get away. With a small excuse, he left Reiji to finish the greetings. He had to get away for a moment. Out of this room. So he leaves the ballroom, wondering the halls.

The worse thing about Eden Castle was its ability to react to those inside it. Shu closed his eyes, groaning, and letting himself rest against the wall. He refused to open them. Not now. This castle would warp around his distress, turn him around, make him lost. That was the last thing he wanted. He simply needed a moment to breath. Preferably nap, but that wasn’t an option.

It was moments like this that really made him think about the future. How was he going to function as a leader? When all of this made him so uneasy. Even with Reiji at his side, all of the pressure – Shu lowered himself into a seated position. He hadn’t felt like this in years. Fear. Anxiety. It was suffocating. Shu couldn’t stop the memories flooding into his head. Why was this happening?

He wasn’t sure how long he sat in the hallway. He wasn’t even sure if he was really still in Eden Castle or not. The panic racing through him placed him in the past. Where his mother still lived, and lectured him daily. Where Reiji plotted and schemed against him. Where Edgar… Enough! Shu had to snap out of this, and in an attempt to do so, he gave himself a smack. This was ridiculous. It had to be this place, stirring up the memories he’d so desperately rather forget.

Picking himself up, he forces his will onto the Castle. Shu could feel its magic attempting to twist the view to his emotional distress. Perhaps all the training this past year wasn’t for nothing? Forcing himself up, Shu walked back into the ballroom. Upon his arrival, Reiji was dealing with some kind of mess. A table was over turned, and there were desserts all over the floor. What a hassle. He had planned to simply tell Reiji he was leaving, but that plan wasn’t going to work if his brother tried to get him to help.

As he debated with himself, an all too familiar presence made itself known. Shu searched the crowd to find the source. It was overwhelming in his current state of mind to ignore, like he normally would. Against his desires, his body followed where the call came from. It was almost sickening, this influence. Soon he found himself face to face with the one beckoning him, Karlheinz.

“There you are Ririe, I have been waiting for you to join us.” The vampire lord’s voice held such weight, even though he spoke so calmly. Normally Shu was able to resist most of his father’s influence, but for some reason tonight it felt stronger. Could it be the moon?

“Ah~ Shu-san, you look so handsome in that suite. I knew that design would complement you perfectly.” Another familiar voice chimed, as a woman made herself known next to Karlheinz. Shu would tell then why everything felt off. It wasn’t just from the moon.

Before Shu had a moment to speak, Karl placed a hand against his back, moving him closer. “There is someone special I have been trying to get you to meet.” He informs raising a hand to beacon someone over. Shu wanted to move out of his father’s grasp, but there was no escape. “Ajax, I am so pleased to finally get these two together.” He addresses someone Shu had never seen before.

This ‘Ajax’ was a tall, broad man, standing well over all of them, probably pushing about 8 feet. His skin was tanned, and his hair looked as though it were the mane of a lion. Similar to his father, it was long and held with a ribbon, but his bangs were pushed back from his face. While on most people they would slick back, his seemed to flare outward, in excitement, perhaps? He was dressed in an embroidered long-sleeved formal shirt rather than a suite, with a mask to match.

Next to him were two smaller women, one that came to about 6ft tall, and the other shorter than Shu. They both also had tanned skin. The taller one wore a two piece outfit, it stood out amongst the many dresses in the room. While it was simply a blouse and skirt, it seemed elevated, majestic even on her. The shorter female was dressed much closer to the tone of the event, with an off the shoulder ball gown, yellow in color with a navy lining.

All three of them had a pair of horns on their head, though each were different. Ajax’s were large, and split into three different pairs. The longest set on top of his head, moving back with his hair. The next were not as long, and the third fell just over where his ears would be. The larger woman had a pair, but they were much smaller in comparison. Just a single pair, that formed a perfect wrap around her ears, the ends sticking out just slightly. The smaller females were a combination of both. Only have one set, they dipped down as if to begin to wrap, but instead moved back, and extended upwards.

The three approached the Vampire King, bowing respectfully, “Karlheinz, It has been some time since we last met! It is good to see you well!” Ajax, voice was booming, but not with malice. He held great enthusiasm, and respect in his words. “So this is the young lad you had in mind? I can see the resemblance in you! Haha!”

Shu was utterly confused by what was transpiring before him. Just who were these strangers? Why would he of all people be introduced to anyone? Surely he meant to call on Reiji. Then again, he did use his true name, what could his father be planning.

“Yes, this is my eldest son, Ririe. As we look towards our futures, there is not a better son I could think of to join our families.” Karl goes on to Ajax. “While he does share my genetics, I assure you, he looks much more like his late mother.”

Ajax laughed, and scratches his head, “I should say the same for my daughters! They all carry their mother’s beauty that is for sure!” The taller woman next to him smiles but clears her throat. “Ah! Yes of course, my dear!” The large man moves to the side, and brings forth the smallest female. “How rude of me! I present to you my lovely youngest daughter, Callista.”

He all but pushes the female into Shu. Who was still trying to process what was happening in this moment. As he looked at the girl, he could see she was embarrassed to stand before him. What was he supposed to say? To do? “Um…” She was the first to break the silence, looking up at the young vampire. “It is… a pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Ririe.”

Shu just stared at her. How could his father even suggest this!? He had always sent brides to the home, but this… this was more arranged. This was – “You’ll have to forgive him, Lord Ajax. He must be in total shock from your lovely daughter’s beauty.” Shu could hear the enchanting tone in his father’s escort’s voice.

“Haha! Of course! Like all of my daughters, she is a beauty beyond compare.” The tall man boast happily.

“Perhaps we should allow them some time to become acquainted.” Karl suggested, and before Ajax could protest, the other woman clears her throat once more, elbowing Ajax a little. “Come, let me give you a small tour of the Castle. I am sure Burai would also enjoy seeing you as well.”

As the rest of them started to leave, there was one final word from Ms. Escort. “Do your best, Shu-san. Your father will be counting on you.” Her words were soft, much too soft for anyone but Shu to hear, as she followed after Karl and the others.

Leaving Shu and this girl, Call-something. Shu looked after his father, trying to decipher the meaning to all of this. While the final words of his escort rang in his head. Such a noisy thing. Clearing his throat, Shu took a moment to gather himself. There were far too many forces attempting to influence his mind, and he was growing tired of it all.

With a disgruntled sigh, Shu turns from the girl. He would have no part of this nonsense. Not once had he ever shown interest in the human’s their father threw at them. He sure as hell was not interested in a demon bride. Just because he was the eldest, did his father think he could simply marry him off? Ridiculous. Disgusted by the entire offering, Shu planned to leave. Leave this entire charade behind. Reiji would have to find someone else to take on the role of heir, because he was not the one.

As he began to walk away, a small hand grabbed onto his arm. “Wait just a moment.” It was that girl’s voice. He had no intention of listening to her, and shrugged her hand off. “Um, excuse me, I am talking to you.” She followed after him, he could hear here the sound of her heels behind him.

“I have no intention of doing as my father states. Leave me be woman.” It was cold, but Shu knew no other way to be.

That must have set her off, because before he knew it, the smaller being was in front of him. Hands on her hips, “The least you could do is speak with me. For just a moment. You may not like it, but I have a duty to uphold and-" While she was talking, Shu move around her, uninterested in what she was try to say.

Oh boy did that make her mad. The demon girl stamped her foot, and continued to follow him. “Listen, I know it is not ideal. I am beginning to think that you were not told about this beforehand, like I was. This must be a rather overwhelming moment, however, I will not be ignored. Lord Ririe we are to be married whether –"

Shu stopped in his tracks as she uttered the word ‘married’. It was so abrupt that she ran right into his back, letting out a soft gasp. Shu turned slightly to look at the girl once more. She was not hideous. Hair curly, skin tanned, body… Now that he looked at her, damn if her shape was not ideal. Curvy in all the right places. A nice pair of tits. Thin waist. Round hips, which he was sure translated to a large ass as well. Not to mention her eyes were piercing. A golden color, that looked similar to a predators.

Perhaps ignoring her was the wrong approach. He could be persuaded to use a bit more effort, since she was his type. “I’ll speak with you then. Not here though. Come with me.” Shu orders and holds out his arm for her to take. She is obviously confused, but she links her arm with his none the less. “Appearances. Don’t want anyone coming to attack me thinking I am upsetting you.” He says softly leading her outside.

“Well… I wouldn’t say I blame you. It was rather shocking to me as well when father told me of the news.” She says blushing slightly. Shu did not respond to her as they walked through the crowd. He could feel multiple eyes on him. Just who was this girl? She was clearly the daughter of a demon lord – though Shu had no idea which.

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ﾟ｡. +ﾟ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡ TO BE CONTINUED ☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

#writing #Lunar Eclipse Masquerade #LEM

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omiscurls · 4 years ago

Text

night sky - atsumu miya x reader

the volleyball player you're gonna be falling for today: miya atsumu

word count: 3900

summary quote: "See, Angel Eyes, there are some things that cannot be whispered, some feelings too strong to be degraded to the level of being silent."

and lets go!

***

"You were very endearing while you were half asleep, you know that?" he laughed, touching your nose with the tip of his cold finger. Your body shook, freezing a bit when the train door opened, and the icey night air flooded the inside. The girls' school uniform, mostly the skirt, surely wasn't designed for such weather conditions as the november nights provided.

"What time is it?" you just asked, still sleepy from the nap you took on his shoulder.

"Six thirty" he laughed quietly, putting you head back where it was previously resting. You didn't mind at all, after all, he was comfortable. "We're getting off in eight minutes, so try not to sleep" You nodded slightly, watching the city landscape change in a matter of seconds just outside the dirty window in front of you. The raindrops were creating lively patterns on the glass, changing every now and then due to the blowing wind. Kobee's lights were already on, because, as it was november, six thirty was already a mid-night hour. You looked around the smelly train, noticing only few people left, as the route was already coming towards it's last stop. You noticed two people you knew from school, going home as well, altough it seemed they were not riding together, as they both listened to music with headphones in.

You growled, pouting, when it was finally time to leave the warm train and walk four blocks home. At least you got your boyfriend with you, because walking alone in such darkness would definitely scare you, though you would never say that to his face, no, that would boost his ego too much. You smiled unconsciously as he took your hand into his, as if he was worried you'll get lost.

You followed him out of the train and into the station. You lowkey enjoyed the blue light of the the screens, showing which train will arrive next, the people rushing in every possible direction, as Kobee was a huge city, some of them waiting with their suitcases, coffee mugs in their hands, and some just going home with their backpacks, talking on the phone or listening to music. The shops on the main station were already closing down, but you two managed to get to McDonald's and order large fries, which Miya payed for, then insisting for you to eat them, because "he's suddenly not hungry anymore".

It stopped raining, when you finally got out of the train station, and walked into the cold night. He took your hand once more when you finished the fries.

"Ew, yer fingers are all greasy. Omi-kun would've freaked." he joked, glancing at you. You turned red, snapping away from his grip.

"Don't hold them, then, dumbass" you adjusted the scarf on your neck so it covered your cheeks. Like a stubborn kid, he got the hand out of your pocket and intertwined your fingers once more.

"Nah, you're gonna get cold if I don't, and we can't have that, can we, Angel Eyes?" you blushed once more at the nickname, facing away from him, so he doesn't get to satisfied with the impression he caused. All of the sudden he appeared in front of you, smiling widely.

"What's that, Angel Eyes, does the new nickname fluster ya in some kind of way?" You looked at him with pure irritation in your eyes, as he pulled you into a slight hug. "Hey, yer shoulders are shaking, are you cold?" suddenly he didn't sound like a douchebag, but concern took the place of confidence. You stayed silent, really hating to agree, but before you could disagree, he took of his jacket and put it on your shoulders. "Wait" he added, realizing one mistake, he made and took the jacket back for a second, grabbing your schoolbag and piled the strap on the one of his bag, resting it on his arm.

"That's heavy, give it back" you said, trying to reach for his shoulder, as he was way taller.

"Hell no, what sorta boyfriend would that make me?" he grinned, catching your wrist as you were halfway through to reaching your bag, already standing on your toes. "Aaand another point for Miya for blocking that!" he yelled, immitating the TV sport's commentator.

"You're not a blocker, though" you giggled, getting back to a comfortable, standing position.

"Aww, my Angel Eyes remembers what possition I play in? Well don't you deserve the best girlfriend award"

"Only because you never shut up about being the prettiest setter in Japan. And even that opinion is biased" he gasped dramatically, putting a hand over his forehead, as if he were about to faint.

"Well excuse me, I have to win a bet with an old friend of mine from a little village next to Tokyo. AND YOU COULD SUPPORT ME IN DOING SO, YOU KNOW" he pouted way too loud. You just rolled your eyes.

"And hey, I know you always watch me from the first row, I have eyes."

"I watch Osamu"

"Now THAT hurted" he looked at you with theatrical heartbreak in his sight. "You know what, you're walking alone for that" he added, leaving you there, next to the station, disappearing into the night. You laughed, at first, knowing that he still has your bag and has to come back, but then you shivered, feeling the cold wind against your bare skin, and remembered that he wanted to give you his jacket. You knew he was probably around the corner, waiting to scare you as you were walking around in search for him, so you decided to look.

But the longer you kept going back and forth around the fifteen metre distance he could possibly walk, there was no sight of him anywhere.

"Cool, Miya, now would you please get out? Or else I'm walking home!" you shouted, hoping that would get him to come out of his hiding spot, but you received no response. You held your arms against your chest to keep warm.

You heard footsteps behind you, and turned around, relieved, actually, that he'd came back.

"Finally, you dumba-" you didn't finish your sentence, noticing the person behind you wasn't Atsumu.

"What're you doing out here, freezing alone?" you heard the boy in front of you ask, but you were too distracted by his sudden appearance to respond.

You knew that boy, you knew him damn well, he was one of your closest friends, growing up, but then moved, because his father worked for the army and have to reposition every few years.

"Sato-kun? What're you doing here?" you asked in shock, looking at the boy you had seen for the last time around 4 years before, now standing in front of you, all grown up, so much, in fact, that you barely recognized him.

"Hello to you too, honey" he smiled, hugging you. You felt slightly uncomfortable, not liking to be touched by strangers, but then you remembered he wasn't a stranger. He was a guy that knew you to the bone since diapers.

But also the guy who then promised to keep in touch and disappeared from your life completely.

"Now would you mind explaining what're you doing here alone?"

"Oh, uhm, I am actually not-" you tried to explain, tilting your head around, searching for that idiot, Atsumu, but again, he was nowhere to be found.

"You do seem alone, though. Who would leave you here?" he said with a polite smile, but even so started to get on your nerves. You were not some pretty doll to be LEFT somewhere, what if you were just waiting for someone to show up?

"Well, it's a long story" you replied, but he insisted on keeping the conversation going.

"Mind telling me over a walk home? I do know where you live, obviously." You were still in too much shock to turn him down, mixed feelings flowing in and out of your head.

"Sato-kun, I am really interested in knowing your side of how the last 4 years have passed, but I am really with somebody right now" you answered, but noticed something else got his attention, like he was looking just above your shoulder.

You suddenly felt arms tie around your neck in an embrace, and felt someone bending over to match your level. The cologne you smelled was so iconic you'd recognize it from a mile away.

That idiot finally came back.

"Hi there, buddy!" he smiled politely, resting his chin on your shoulder. Considering the height difference, that must've been really uncomfortable, but what wouldn't Atsumu Miya do for a good first impression.

"Hi!" Sato responded, also smiling, but now less vividly than he did a while ago. "Who're you to lean over her like that?" he added, and the sound of possesiveness in his voice freaked you out. He wasn't in a position to say that, he left you here for four whole years.

"Oh I?" you boyfriend broke the embrace in order to straighten up and walk over to your childhood friend. It was safe to say he was at least fifteen centimetres taller. "Miya Atsumu" he said with such fake sweetness in his voice, that you couldn't help but smile a bit. "And do you mind explaining who you're to tell me I can't hug my girlfriend?" he scratched the back of his head, smiling from ear to ear, looking absolutely adorable, except from the fact that you and Sato were both scared to death. The taller boy reached out to Sato, wanting to shake his hand.

"Miya? Are you the spiker or the setter?" he asked, gripping Miya's hand. "See my brother plays volleyball and I think they've played against you on-"

Atsumu didn't let him finish. First he turned his head back to look at you with a pitiful expression in his eyes, then back to the boy.

"Did he now? I think I would've remembered seeing a face just as annoying as yours on the other side of the net" he laughed, patting his shoulder in a true "big brother" style. "I appreciate the recognition, I really do, but I have many people knowing my name on a daily basis, you know. Let's talk about you, instead!"

You were slightly freaked out by Atsumu's sudden sarcasm and bitterness, as you weren't used to seeing him... jelous? Is that how you'd describe it? He was a very confident person so he never got insecure about your relationship. He knew how crazy about him you really were, even if you tried to hide it as much as you could. You also knew about his affection to irritating people, but it was all jokes and nothing serious most of the time, and even if it was, he always managed to be lowkey and funny about it, but now it seemed as if he was dense and really pissed.

Did he have a bad day? Did you fail to ask him? Countless quesitons ran through your head, but you couldn't seem to recall anything like that. After all, what brought you two together was the fact that you always seemed to know what was happening in his head, even when he tried to hide it as much as possible.

"Sato Yakeru" he said, deadly glaring at Atsumu. "But why do you want to know, Miya-kun?" the boy put his hands on his hips, trying to gain back his confidence. "Are you really that insecure about the fact I took three minutes of you girl's precious time?"

This was not the Sato you remembered. That one was a sweet, sure, confident, but still sweet boy who always walked you to your house when you finished your classes, helped you with chemistry and played with your little sister when she interrupted your study dates. He always listened to all your problems, been there through all the ups and the downs and stood up for you whenever you needed that.

But now you've realized, he was always like that. He was always such a chauvinist, wanting to be the prince charming, wanting to rescue you out of any opression there was, but then you didn't mind, you didn't even notice, because you were percisely the little scared girl he wanted. And now that that's changed, he was suddenly irritating. Miya glanced back at you, concerned when he noticed you weariness. He looked Sato up and down with hatred in his eyes. Now, that's a look you hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Now, now" he laughed with pity. "Don't get too full of yourself there, little one" he said reffering to the fact that he was significantly taller than the boy "It takes a lot more than just a pipsqueak like you to make me loose my composure"

He came back to you taking both your cold hands into his.

"Was that boy bothering you, Angel Eyes? Do you know him?" you looked him deep in the eyes only to find him trying to mask his obvious irritation by acting calmly. You hesitated before answering, not wanting to deteriorate his mood even more.

"That's actually my childhood friend, 'Tsumu. I was just suprised to find out he was back in town"

He nodded, facing away from you, as if he was trying to calm down for real before letting you look into him again.

"What, didn't she tell you about me? Aw, that sucks, man" Sato laughed under his breath.

"What was that, munchkin? Couldn't hear ya." he smirked, proud of the childish insult. Once, you hear Osamu say that Atsumu's mental age decreases for about five years when he plays. Well, it decreases for seven when he gets angry. "Alright, honey, take the jacket now, you're trembling" Miya added much calmer, putting the fabric on your shoulders and adjusting it a bit so it covers the front of your body as well. You loved how big it was on you, you could literally fit your arm twice in those long sleeves of his. "Anything in particular ya want to do, or should we just head home?

You raised an eyebrow, not sure what he was getting at. You already agreed to go to your place and just chill, since it was friday, why was he asking now? And then, looking at the mixed expression painted across his face, you realized, he tried to show the other boy how different than him he truly is. You couldn't help but laugh.

How childish.

"Let's go, I'm getting tired" you responded, standing up on your toes, trying to match his eye level, knowing how much he adored that.

"Aight, we'll be going then. Pleased to meet ya, Sato-kun. Hope I'll never get the opportunity to speak to your annoying little face again." When you two walked passed the boy, he patted his shoulder. You heard giggling behind you.

"Fine then, short stuff, if you want to go somewhere and catch up this weekend, call me!" Yakeru shouted, already going his own way.

You froze upon hearing the nickname you've been called by him so many times in the past, and suddenly tears formed in your eyes, coming along with the memories you forgot you had.

"She won't!" Miya yelled back, putting his arm around your shoulder. You instinctly rested your head against his body.

Silence fell upon you two, nobody wanted to start the conversation, and to be honest, you already moved on from that little, ridiculous fight, and were now dwelling in your own thoughts, remembering all the happy times with Sato, back when you were kids and life was simpler.

"Short stuff, really? Out of all nicknames?" Atsumu finally said, out of nowhere, faking laughter. "It's the lack of creativity for me"

You didn't respond, barely even hearing him speak.

"I mean, it was obvious the guy was all pure vanilla and no flavour, but still, pathethic." he went on "And the nerve of this dude! Would ya believe? Who is he now, your prince charming coming to the rescue? Since when?" Atsumu started to get really worked up over something he should pay exactly zero shits to, but you chose not to interrupt him, afraid your voice will break, which was highly likely, judging from the tears, still present in your eyes. "Hey, Angel Eyes, shouldn't ya be telling me to shut up by now?"

He suddenly stopped walking, lifting your cheek with his finger, and noticed the little wet mark going across your cheek. Now quiet and worried, he wiped of it off, turning you around to be facing him directly.

"What's up?" he just asked, not knowing how to react. You were always the one to calm him down, not the other way around.

"Nothing's up, can we keep walking? I feel bad about you freezing without your jacket, I'll make you tea"

"I'm counting on that, but first stop with the bullshit and tell me" never once had he even sworn around you, so you guessed that he was still angry, even though he was being kind of supportive.

"It's just that... Oh, it's stupid. Forget it." You started walking again, causing him to have to run up to you.

"It's not stupid, come on. Was that guy bad memories?" he frowned, walking backwards to keep eye contact with you. You didn't respond.

"Or was it me? Did I overreact? Are you mad?" damn, you really didn't think you could shake him this much just by not reacting to what he was saying. You had trouble remembering when was the last time he ask if it was him that made you upset.

"No, nothing like that." you finally decided he'll blow up if you kept on staying silent. "That pathethic nickname you're so stressed about, it just brought up the version of him I'd much rather remember, instead of this <I'm a nice guy> piece of crap I've witnessed today."

Shock came across his face, hearing you get upset like that. He stayed silent for a while, going back to walking by your side, and not in front of you.

"So, uhm... is that why I never heard of him?" he asked quietly, it was almost a whisper. You glanced at him and noticed he was looking away, probably hiding how much it must've costed him to skip his pride and ask that. You took his hand in a reassurring gesture, finding that his fingers were pressed hard against the inside of the hand, so hard his knuckles were probably white by now. It took you a bit to untangle that, but he finally let you hold his hand, still not looking.

"No. I was just trying to forget that guy." your level of voice matched his, giving the conversation an intimate vibe.

"Why?"

"Well, he was my best friend all my life, but then moved away and cut me off, even though he promised never to do that" you kept staring at the pavement, holding back the wave of emotions.

"Was he always such a prick?" you giggled, hearing the noticeable accent on the word "prick". Miya looked at you and smiled as well. "What, does the word <prick> amuse ya? What're ya, five?"

You kept laughing even louder.

"What? What did I say?" he broke into laughter watching your eyes light up, but a clueless expression still decorated his face.

"Remind me why do I love you again, you brat?" you mumbled between bursts of uncontrollable giggling.

Something suddenly held you back from walking. You turned back to see Atsumu, staying still, pure shock in his eyes, red colouring his cheeks. He kept glaring at you as if you just came back from the dead.

"What is it?" you asked, holding back the amusement, still smiling widely.

"You... do?"

For a short while you didn't understand what he was reffering to, but when you finally got it, it shocked you as well.

Did you really just...? Was it really the first time? You knew that for so long it felt as if you'd already said it a thousand times before.

"Oh god, sorry, sorry, forget I said anything" you apologized, remembering his fear of commitment. You broke the grasp and started walking fast, but heard a loud "no wait!" behind you.

Miya managed to catch up with you and put both his hands on your shoulders.

"Wait, just... do you really...?" what, couldn't he say it? Didn't he feel the same way? Why would he be with you for so long if he didn't? Were you just a playtoy? Really, you wouldn't be suprised, judging by the stereotypes going around about him, but you really hoped you guys were different than that.

"I'm sorry if that's a bother to you" you said, tears forming in the corners of your eyes again. You heard him laugh almost histerically.

"God no, it's not, Angel Eyes, how could you think that?" he lifted your chin to look you in the eyes, but you faced away. He shook his head in disbelief, pulling you into a tight hug. You suddenly felt at home, burying your face into his t-shirt, smelling the cologne you so liked.

You didn't want that moment to end. Whatever he had to say, you were now sure it wasn't positive and you didn't want to think of him any different than right then and there: as you precious little saltshaker of a boyfriend who was unbearable to be around for most of the time, but you still adored every single word that came out of his mouth and loved him alltogether so much it hurted your brain to process it.

He probably felt his shirt becoming wet, though, because he leaned over just a bit, to be able to whisper something in your ear. You clenched your fists, waiting for the inevitable.

"Well if that's the case... then that makes all my previous possesiveness out of place, doesn't it?"

You didn't say anything back, not really knowing how, but you were sure, that in an embrace as tight as that one he surely felt your heart jumping out of your chest even more every growing second.

"Hey, Angel Eyes" he then said, pulling away from the hug, and smiling upon seeing your hands still squeezing his shirt, from how much you didn't want to let go. "Relax, I just want to look into those eyes. Also, I don't want to whisper, that's sorta out of character for me, right? See, Angel Eyes, there are some things that just cannot be whispered, some feelings too strong to be degraded to the level of being silent. So I wanted to use my full voice to say — and it's not an easy thing to say, because, ya see, not only did I fall for you, but I am in fact, still falling! And that feeling creeps me out every single day. I guess that's why I was so afraid to tell you this. But I got it now."

He cleared his throat, looked you in the eyes, and put your hair behind your ear, which caused you to shake, due to his fingers being extremly cold.

"I love you to the point where no words are enough."

56 notes · View notes

wkemeup · 5 years ago

Text

Guiding Light (6)

summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra and now, Bucky can’t breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 7.3k warnings: torture, angst™, graphic descriptions of violence, the peak of the angst ive been warning yall about 🖤series masterlist // series playlist

You laid on your stomach upon the hard lumps and broken springs of the mattress, the weight of your body heavy, impossibly aching, and somehow feathery light at the same time; like your body was not your own, like you were just barely inhabiting your own skin covered in bruising and dried blood caked into your hair, bones protruding where thick muscle once sat. Unrecognizable.

Lids heavy, you dragged your arm up to the corner of the ground under the mattress, shifting slightly and taking up all of your energy to do so. A few scratches in a single line amongst forty-seven marks of the same; tiny white lines along concrete.

Forty-eight days in Hydra’s captivity.

“How you doing over there, Y/n?” Danny’s voice called carefully through the wall.

You closed your eyes, turning your head to face the wall, staring at the crack that allowed you an ounce of sanity in your imprisonment. Your fingertips reached out and brushed the line in the wall. Tiny rocks fell from the fracture, sharp edges scratching at your skin.

“M’okay,” you replied, though the rough tone of your voice betrayed you.

You could still feel the worn muscles and aching joints from where Cain had beat you senseless for the sake of the camera a few days prior. He had yet to explicitly tell you what your purpose was in Hydra or why they bothered keeping you alive at all, but you could tell they were ramping up to their endgame soon. Whatever it was, had to do with Bucky.

You suspected it from the beginning. They were too quick to taunt him in your face and he had become the main subject of your interrogations as of late. You had handled the videos up to this point as best as you could. It was what you were trained for, but the moment you saw Bucky’s name listed upon the cue card, you broke.

You had outright refused to say his name aloud in such a place and Cain, in his unending frustration with you, had cut off your air supply with the grip of his hand until you lost consciousness. He only released long enough for you to come back to, and then he’d close his gasp again. He did that four times before he relented.

So, despite the tears in your eyes, the awful break in your voice, and the sickening guilt in your stomach, you spoke his name at the demands of the same nature of men who had tortured and mutilated Bucky Barnes until he resembled something outside of himself.

You spoke his name and you told him he was at fault just before Cain nearly beat you to death for the second time.

When you regained consciousness hours later, you couldn’t stop crying. Heaving and desperate to catch your breath, just to picture his face as you spoke those words, words you had so carefully worked to convince him of otherwise in the three years since you’d known him. Those words were never supposed to come from your mouth, never should have parted your lips, echoed in your voice. They were lies; vicious and cruel because you knew that Bucky would latch onto them and take any excuse to give into the dormant fears in the back of his mind that constantly wondered if he really was to blame for all the bad in the world.

You had so vigilantly kept your mind away from Bucky since you’d been here, focusing only on old memories, on his smile and the blue in his eyes, on something warm and kind you could hold onto, but then suddenly, all you could think about was what he was doing without you, if he’d retreated so far into himself he resembled the withdrawn, self-loathing man you first met in the kitchen before sunrise drinking coffee or if it was worse than that, if he dove back into missions and reckless behaviors and gave into the empty part of himself he reserved for the soldier.

You weren’t sure which was worse, but having to think of him being anything other than the incredibly kind, gentle, wonderful man you knew tore at your heart in ways you couldn’t explain. You didn’t want to think that you could hold that kind of power, that being ripped from his life would alter him in such a way. His recovery was too important for that. And yet, if you let yourself think of it, if it had been Bucky that was taken forty-eight days ago and you were the one left behind, you knew with certainty that your world would have come crashing down. It has.

“When's the last time you ate?” Danny asked as a tear slipped over the bridge of your nose, bringing you out of your thoughts. You brushed it away, glancing through the small hole in the wall. Danny had been working on making it bigger, just enough so to slip a few spare bites of food to you in the days Cain ordered the agents to withhold your food as punishment.

It wasn’t large enough to catch a real glimpse of the kid in the cell beside you, but the most you could gather was the orange waves of his hair having grown from the buzzcut over the month since he arrived. Soft freckles on his paled skin and the tan camouflage pants of his military uniform.

“Don’t know,” you replied honestly. Your body had stopped growling for food weeks ago. The pangs turning into numb aches that never quite seemed to go away. Danny didn’t say a word as he pushed a bite of bread throw the wall and it dropped to the concrete by your mattress.

“Danny, don’t,” you urged, though your fingers brushed over the bread, your mouth already watering as you touched the spongey surface. “You need to eat, too.”

“They feed me on a daily basis, Y/n,” he countered, pushing through another piece. “I can afford to share with you. Please, eat.”

You brought the first bite to your mouth and swallowed it before you could even taste the stale texturing. It brought relief for a brief moment, though not nearly long enough, and you picked up the second piece.

Danny let out a groan as he attempted to push another piece of breath through the wall for you, a side effect of the beating he took shortly after yours. He estimated he had a few bruised ribs and some swelling around his eye, but insisted he was unharmed, better off than what they did to you, he would say.

You still didn’t know why they took Danny in the first place or why they were keeping him alive. This young, inexperienced soldier who was too kind and too naïve to second guess breaking protocol to help a stranger start their car. It didn’t make sense. He had no information he could give, no secrets he could expose. He was just some kid.

You mumbled a thank you as Danny took a steady breath, ripping the bread into pieces.

“You're the Avenger here, you know,” Danny chimed in light-heartedly as another bite landed into your outstretched hand and you smiled through your cracked lips, “you need to get your strength anywhere you can grab it so you’re ready for when your team comes for you.”

As easily as it came, your lips fell back to a straight line. You swallowed back the last bite he was able to offer you.

You spent the rest of the day curled up on the mattress, trying to find sleep despite the horrible aches in your body and the likely concussions you had sustained. You were still waking up after you fell asleep, so that was a decent sign at least.

The only good thing about filming those awful videos was the fact that Cain and his men left you alone for a few days. Even if it meant no food, it also meant no torture, no questions you’d refuse to answer, no nails pulled from your skin, no knives carving into you or fists barreling against your bones. It meant peace, if only for a little while.

“Hey Y/n?”

“Yeah, kid?”

Danny paused before he spoke again, a nervous shift as he turned on the squeak of his mattress. “Will you tell me about the Avengers? What they’re really like?”

You turned so your back fell against the mattress, a wash of relief over your muscles. Staring up at the ceiling, you studied the water stains and fractures in the tiling as you considered his question.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want,” Danny quickly retracted. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“No. No, it’s okay,” you sighed, the soft semblance of a smile aching over your lips as you tried to find comfort upon the mattress. You had tried to keep your friends away from this room for so long, that the thought of having them with you, in memory, in spirit, in conversation, brought a kind of warmth to your chest you hadn’t experienced in a long time. “Who do you want to know about?”

First, he asked about Steve, which made sense as Danny had enlisted young without any other prospects. It didn’t surprise you that he idolized the man who went from the small, scrawny kid to a decorated war hero. What did surprise you was that Danny was more interested in who Steve Rogers was than Captain America.

So, you told him the story of when you first met Steve; how he was shyer than you would have expected and had a serious aversion to following rules. He was reckless for the right reasons and passionate for what he believed in. You told him about how Steve volunteers with Sam at the VA and helps facilitate support groups for veterans with PTSD.

Danny listened intently as you talked, asking questions here and there. He was still so young and full of the kind of awe you’d see on the streets of New York when you’d race through the city on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle as Tony and Sam flew above the crowd, chasing behind Steve as he ran at exceptional pace. It was the kind of genuine excitement of a generation who grew up with superheroes in their backyards.

Then, you told him about Tony, how he was far kinder than the media gave him credit for. You told him that he was a good man under all that sarcasm and wit and about how he routes his charity donations through international banks just to take measures to keep it anonymous. You told him about the lavish parties he throws to raise money or help improve the Avenger’s public image and how he somehow became known as the modern day Gadsby, which he had explicitly states he resents.

He asked about Natasha with a slight tremor in his voice, like he was almost fearful of even saying her name, but you told him she was witty and compassionate and fearless unlike anyone else you knew. You told him she was your closest friend and that she had spent countless hours of her own free time to train with you when you first joined the team. You told him that she always wore socks around the compound, even on the hottest summer days, and made the best homemade bread you’d ever had in your life.

You told him about Sam, who was always your main source of laughter, who had a comeback for just about everything and the heart of someone twice his size. You told him about the time Sam once drove five hours just to get a specific type of chocolate from his childhood in the days after you came home from a mission that had more casualties than anyone had expected, hoping the sweets would bring back even an ounce of your smile.

Danny was enthralled the entire time, so eager to learn more and asking the kinds of questions you’d only get from someone who genuinely cared, who spent most of their life looking up to superheroes and wanting to embody them as he got older.

He asked about what it was like living at the compound, if superheroes ordered pizza, what kind of shows secret agents watch on Netflix, and what you did when you weren’t on missions. He got you laughing enough to forget about the pain in your body and the warmth of the memories allowed you a brief distraction from horrors of the room you laid in.

“They sound awesome,” Danny exhaled with a laugh and you could only picture the grin that spread over his lips, cheeks aching from smiling for so long.

“Yeah, they kinda are,” you chuckled, surprised to find you had been smiling too. Even through cracked lips and discolored bruising on your jawline, a smile still found its way back to you. How it was possible this kid was able to bring that out in you, you didn’t know.

“What about, um,” Danny started with a nervous tick in his voice, “what about Sergeant Barnes? You haven’t mentioned him...”

You clenched your jaw as you focused on the watermark on the ceiling above you, suddenly a dry ache burning in your chest that wiped away your smile.

“I know the papers talk a lot of crap about him,” Danny went on to say, “but I don’t believe that garbage. He served his country, spent decades as a prisoner of war for it, and this is the way we treat him when he comes home? It’s bullshit. He’s a veteran who got dealt a shitty hand and he shouldn’t be treated like an enemy. All these assholes talk a big game but if it came down to it, none of them would have been able to survive what they put Sergeant Barnes through, let alone resist all the brainwashing Hydra forced on him. They’re all a bunch of cowards. He’s a hero if you ask me.”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. It wasn’t often you came across someone who so adamantly and without persuasion believed in Bucky’s innocence. Sniffling back tears, you pressed your hand to the crack in the wall, like it was an extension of you, like maybe Danny could feel your appreciation through the barrier. The small glimpse of him you were able to see through the hole in the wall turned to you, a soft smile on his face as he pressed his hand to the crack.

You let your hand fall away, taking in a deep breath as Danny settled in against his own mattress.

“Bucky is the best man I know,” you said, the words flowing out easily, because they were true and because just being able to talk about Bucky, to have him with you like this, might have been the only thing keeping you from falling apart. “He still has a hard time accepting what Hydra did to him, what they made him do, but he’s come so far. The progress he’s made has been just... amazing to watch. He’s so strong and he cares so much but he holds the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. I just wish the rest of the world could see him the way you do.”

“I’m sure they’ll get there,” Danny replied. “They just got to get to know him, right?”

“It’ll take time,” you chuckled softly, thinking back on fonder memories.

So, you told Danny about your first interactions with Bucky nearly three years ago; how he had sat at the kitchen table hunched over his coffee at the early hours of the morning, silent and brooding for weeks before he so much as spoke to you. You told him about the first time Bucky stuck around in the kitchen as you stretched before your run and how avoidance turned to tight lipped smiles, which turned to mumbled greetings until he stood dressed in running shorts and worked up the courage to ask to go with you.

“Takes a while for him to warm up then?” Danny chuckled.

“Didn’t let me carry a conversation with him until after a few days of running in complete silence,” you confirmed, smile brimming at your lips.

You told him about the day you dragged Bucky into Brooklyn and brought him to the bookshop where you purchased a series of novels on your catch-up list. The first one he read was To Kill A Mockingbird and he had latched onto the character of Scout, pulling you aside at every opportunity to talk about what she stood for and why she was so important as a character. He asked if you would help him find essays and articles about the author and what inspired her. It was the first time you had seen him excited, eager, like he had a kind of hopefulness and light in his eyes he was lacking.

You told Danny about the playlist you started for Bucky, how it had started out as records of music from the decades he missed and the best of your generation before it turned into something else. He learned he leaned towards the acoustic trends of the 70s and 80s in bands like Fleetwood Mac and artists Jim Croce, but he’d find himself asking about your favorite music, songs you’d put on when you need uplifting, songs that made you cry, songs that he’d relate to, and he’d ask if you’d put those on his playlist, too, even if you weren’t sure if he’d like it. He told you he’d love anything you did. You’d hear the playlist echo down the hall at all hours of the day.

You told him of your first mission with Bucky in Vienna, how you would have bled out in the combat zone if Bucky hadn’t carried you out of there. You told him that Bucky was incredibly brave and selfless behind all those layers of guilt he carried upon his shoulders. Even in the months he was suffocated by the shame of it all, before he was able to start swimming back to the surface, he was still impossibly kind for the cruelty he had experienced.

He found a way to step back into the light and you could only pray he hadn’t fallen back to the darkness.

“You really care about him, huh?” Danny sighed.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to picture Bucky’s face. Details were starting to fade away, like the two freckles in his forehead and the patterns of gold trimming on his left arm, and that was what scared you the most. But you could still picture the blue of his eyes, the soft wave in his hair, the smile that left crinkles along the side of his face, and that was what kept you from succumbing to Hydra’s torture, to their demands.

“I love him,” you exhaled as tears slipped from the corners of your eyes. You had only said the words aloud once, from behind the glass barrier that kept you from him on the day you were taken. Saying it now, so far away from the man who needed to hear it tore at your chest but it made it real. It reminded you that it happened, that you had loved someone so deserving and so beautiful and that it was worth it, even if it led you here. Even if you’d never get the chance to tell him again.

Danny didn’t say anything, but you could hear the gentle sounds of his breathing as he listening intently. His hands brushed over the crack in the wall, the shadow casting into your room, and you mustered a sad smile, knowing it was his way of letting you know he was still there, still listening.

You brushed your nose, sniffling back more tears. “I um, never had the courage to tell him until I realized Hydra was going to take me prisoner. Thought I might not ever get the chance again and I couldn’t let him go on thinking I didn’t love him, that he wasn’t worth it or didn’t deserve of something more, because I know he thought those things of himself.”

“Does he feel the same way?” Danny asked cautiously, sincerely.

“Don’t know for sure,” you shrugged, running your fingers under your eyes to wipe at the tears. “I think he might. It’s hard to believe he would so willing open up to me the way he did, trust me with his burdens and the horrors in his dreams if he didn’t, but I...” you let out a heavy sigh, one that crushed on the weight of your chest, “I don’t think I’ll ever know.”

“I don’t understand,” Danny paused, a soft shuffling as he adjusted on his side of the wall, “of course you’ll know. You can tell him again when he gets you out of this hell hole and I’ll knock sense into him myself if it’s not the first thing he says to you.”

You chuckled through the tears on your cheeks, biting at your lip to keep your voice from breaking. “I don’t know about that, Danny.”

“But you said they’d come for you,” he questioned and a lump burned in the back of your throat.

“I know,” you confessed, “but things don’t always work out the way they should. I know my team is doing everything they can to find me. I know Bucky is doing everything he can but… people like me, in this job, we don’t always get happy endings. I’ve done more good than bad, saved more people than I’ve killed, than I’ve lost, but… the universe doesn’t take that into account. We’re all the same in her eyes and she won’t favor me because of who my friends are or how much evil I’ve prevented.”

Danny took in a careful breath after a moment of consideration, and then, “you don’t think you’ll make it out of this, do you?”

You wiped your hand over your eyes, wet tracks on your skin.

You thought of Steve and Tony, who you were sure were tirelessly working around the clock and overworking their staff to track down leads they ultimately wouldn’t find. You thought of Sam and Natasha who would spend every waking hour in the gym if they weren’t out in the field because neither of them ever learned how to sit still when something was out of their control, how Sam would resort to his charm and wit to pull the rest of the team from their hopelessness and how Nat would put on a smile and pretend like she was handling it better than she was.

Then, with a broken heart, you thought of Bucky; of ocean eyes and warm smiles, of the smell of old bookshops in Brooklyn, and sitting at the floor of your bedroom listening to music and introducing him to new books. You thought of sitting at the kitchen counter at five in the morning and the bitter taste of black coffee. You thought of morning runs and sparring in the gym, of his laugh and the glances he’d steal in your direction.

You thought of the look on his face the last time you saw him, how he had promised he would find you, lips read through the glass barrier, and how wholeheartedly you had believed him.

But that was forty-eight days ago.

“I’m not sure anymore.”

***

Later that night, you found Bucky in your dreams. At the end of an impossibly long hallway, dark shadows in overcast shielding the lights, locked doors on either side as you sprinted towards him. He stood still, impossibly so, and the floor seemed to stretch under you as you ran. Your legs were too weak, pace too slow. He was getting further and further away despite the hot breath in your lungs and the ache of your legs.

You screamed for him, but your voice was gone, broken and raspy, coming out in only a whisper. He reached out for you but the darkness was pulling him in. It wrapped like tentacles around his wrists, his ankles, his neck, but you were gaining on him, just a step away and your fingertips brushed his in a sweet moment of relief until he was yanked back sharply from your grasp.

Into the darkness he fell and you tried to follow, but you couldn’t see. You felt around aimlessly but there was only the cruel mask of empty space around you. Heart beating painfully, sobs racing through your body, and you shouted his name. A broken, desperate plea, to be unanswered.

Suddenly, you were pulled from your sleep with the series of loud clicks at the door; locks unfastening quickly resulting in a sharp twist in your chest as your heart rate increased, a conditioned response even on the verge of consciousness.

“Rise and shine, princess!” Cain’s voice barreled into the cell as the door slammed open.

You groaned, pressing your face into the mattress as the influx of florescence filled the room. Even your nightmares were better than whatever Cain had in store for you. At least you saw Bucky in your dreams.

Harsh hands gripped onto your arms and yanked you from the mattress. You tried to walk, to carry yourself to the chair bolted to the center of the room, but these men wouldn’t allow you the dignity of that. They tossed your body around like a rag doll and threw you into the chair, quickly fastening the restraints.

They were cowards. If you were at your full strength you could have taken the pair of them down, and yet, even weakened and starved and beaten, they still felt the need to cuff you under metal sheets that punctures and burned at your raw skin, red and swollen.

You turned to Cain who was leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, and an obnoxious, smug smirk curved upon his thin lips.

“What do you want?” you rasped, voice still altered from the last time his hand was wrapped around your throat. He chuckled at that, whether it was your taunt or the state of your voice, you weren’t sure.

“You should watch your mouth,” Cain warned, “especially since I’ve come with news for you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Means your little boyfriend and your team of insufferable idiots just captured one of our men,” Cain replied casually, though the hardened tone of his voice remained. He pushed himself from the wall and he began to pace around you. His hand touched your shoulder as he rounded your chair, fingers sliding up your neck, around your back, and down your left arm until he faced you again

You watched him carefully, chest panting a little harder, heart in your throat.

“Jennings is a seasoned agent and he will bide us time, but it won’t be enough,” Cain continued.

A dread settled in your stomach. “Enough for what?”

“The Avengers are getting too close,” Cain said, blatantly ignoring your question, “and we will have to resort to drastic measures to get them off our tracks.” He looked to the door and Moira, the blonde woman behind the camera you had come to know, stepped through the door. Cain pressed a kiss to her cheek and she kept her eyes on you the entire time, like it was meant to be an affront. The video camera hung from her left hand.

“We’ve got a new video to shoot today,” Cain smirked, “ain’t that right, baby?”

Moira nodded. “Got something real special in store.”

They stepped aside and a new figure was shoved into the room, bound and restrained by agents, one that made your heart stop completely. It wasn’t possible, not as far as you knew and you knew pretty well from your trips to see Shuri with Bucky. This kind of technology was far beyond SHIELD’s capability and Wakanda hadn’t even breached the surface on this yet.

It wasn’t possible.

Heart in your throat, your lips parted in shock, unable to process what you were seeing.

Cain smirked, amused by the panic coursing over you and he turned to Moira, black mask curling into his right hand.

“We go live in ten.”

***

Bucky’s breaths were heavy in his chest; calculated as he filled his lungs every few steps, legs burning as he raced down the busy streets of Manhattan. A silver Toyota Highlander weaved in and out of traffic fifty feet ahead, carrying inside a Hydra affiliated scientist who had been rumored to know where they were keeping you, had maybe even laid eyes on you in person within the last three weeks.

Jennings was the one to give the scientist’s name after days of interrogation: Anton Sokolov, a geneticist known for his work on those with enhanced abilities. Sokolov’s father was one of the men Bucky became familiar with in his years under Hydra’s rule. It appeared an affinity for experimenting on unwilling human subjects ran in the blood.

“I’ll cut them off on 42nd,” Steve’s voice echoed through the coms, accompanied by the roar of his motorcycle.

“Why the hell are they heading to Times Square?” Sam grunted from several hundred feet above Bucky’s head. Wings expanded as he dove through the sky, just ahead of Bucky, enough to keep a watchful eye on the SUV. “They’re not going to escape through there. What are they playing at?”

“Capture first, ask questions later, Wilson,” Nat said through the coms in her usual teasing tone. Wind captured in her mic as she held onto Steve’s back.

Bucky skirted out of the way of a cyclist passing through the intersection as he ran straight through a red light in effort to keep up with the SUV. He was gaining on the van, closing the gap the closer he got to Times Square, the heavy traffic of pedestrians increasing with every block. Only, Bucky wasn’t running any faster. If anything, he was losing energy from the sheer exhaustion of running after a car for nearly thirty-six blocks.

They were slowing down.

“Something’s up,” Bucky panted into his mic. “They’re leading us to a trap.”

“There’s nothing out ahead of you,” Tony reported. “I’m above 42nd and 7th. You’re clear.”

“Bucky’s right,” Steve said, the roar of his engine pulling to a halt. “If they were trying to run, they took a wrong turn about forty blocks ago. They planned this.”

“Guess we better be ready for anything,” Nat replied, a tone of excitement in her voice. She was always ready for something like this. Wasn’t trained for anything else.

“Here we go,” Tony sang as the SUV passed 41st street. From above, Bucky could spot the red and gold shimmer of the iron man suit suspending in the air as he aimed an open palm at the ground ahead of the van, shooting a single blast that took out the front two wheels.

Pedestrians were screaming, running away from the scene; tourists paused to pull out cameras and iPhones at the sight of the Avengers in action while native New Yorkers kept their heads down, headphones in as they continued their commute without interruption.

Tires broke and tore from under the van, rubber flying out to the sides as a deafening screech rang through the streets. Electric sparks burst from under metal as it scrapped along the pavement until ultimately, the SUV skidded to a stop.

Tony and Sam touched down on either side as Bucky sprinted up to the side door, denting the frame as he crashed into it. He released a guttural scream and ripped the car door from its hinges, throwing it several feet down the street.

Inside, he was met with a man in a white button-down shirt, glasses, and a black tie, holding his arms out to the side in defense. The two men in the front seat were hunched over the dashboard, the blast from Tony’s suit rendering them unconscious as blood dripped down the side of their face from the impact.

“Soldat, it’s so wonderful to see you,” Sokolov smirked, thick Russian accent as he taunted the very man who carried vengeance in his veins. Bucky gripped the cold metal of his left hand around Sokolov’s collar and yanked him from his seat, tossing him into the street and he skidded along the pavement on his back.

Bucky pushed Sam aside and stalked towards the Hydra scientist until he stood above him. Sokolov laid on his back, making no effort to run away as Bucky slowly knelt above him, his right hand curling into a fist as he raised it, ready to strike.

“I’m done with these games,” he growled. “Tell me where Y/n is, now!”

“Buck, you’ve got an audience,” Steve said carefully, appearing just a few paces ahead of him. Bucky glanced up slowly, eyeing the crowd of people who had gathered on the sidewalks, standing at a careful distance though they held their cameras and phones out to capture the Avengers in action, to capture the Winter Soldier beat a man to death.

“Yes, Soldat,” Sokolov taunted, “don’t want to upset the balance of your public image any more than you already have. You’re already a monster in their eyes. Do you wish to prove them right?”

“Shut the hell up,” Bucky spat, clenching his metal fist around Sokolov’s shirt, his right arm shaking as he held it above his head, closed into a fist. He looked up at Steve, panting, sincerely trying to bring himself back from the brink of darkness but he couldn’t find the end of the tunnel, not without you. “He knows where Y/n is.”

“That’s right, I do.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, gaze snapping back to Sokolov, who seemed quite pleased with himself. Even Steve and Sam, who stood above him wore the shock evident upon their features. Nat and Tony who had been carefully controlling the crowd to keep them from coming closer froze as they heard it through the coms. It was one thing to hear it through rumors, but another for it to be confirmed.

“But you’re too late,” Sokolov finished, pursing his lips, satisfied with the way desolation quickly replaced the ounce of hope swimming in the blue of Bucky’s eyes. “You wasted too much time, Soldat. She cannot be saved.”

“You’re stalling,” Bucky sneered, glancing up to Steve for support and he mustered a short nod.

“I was with her just days ago,” Sokolov grinned through yellowed teeth and dried lips as Bucky’s heart dropped, his stomach twisting into painful knots. “You have not seen her the way I have. She is weak. Pathetic. You do not see how she cowers in fear, how she cries out your name, begging for you to save her while we tear her apart!”

“No, you’re-- you’re lying,” Bucky accused but his throat had run dry.

“Am I?” Sokolov jeered, a laugh on his tongue. “Do you really think so, Soldat? You think that she is strong enough to withstand what we did to you? You think she could survive the torture and the pain you remember so well? You think we would even allow her to live!?”

Bucky let out a scream and dove his fist to the side of Sokolov’s face, a deafening crack of cheek bones as his knuckles hit flesh. He couldn’t stop himself, tears in his eyes and weeks of desperation and hopelessness rushing to the surface, and he swung again and again until his fist was bloody and broken and Sokolov had stopped laughing, stopped smiling, stopped taunting Bucky of the very nightmares he couldn’t remove from his head.

“Bucky,” Steve gasped, his voice distant, fearful, looking elsewhere, but Bucky could hardly hear him over the ringing in his ears.

Sokolov had slumped over, his body limp; unconscious, though still alive. Bucky panted, sweat dripping from his brow onto the man’s white dress shirt now dampened in red. He fell back from his knees, muscles aching and tiny rocks of the pavement imbedded into his right hand.

“Buck,” Steve said again, an urgency laced through his name that made Bucky narrow his eyes up at his friend. Steve swallowed, glancing down at Bucky with a kind of horror he had never seen in his eyes. For the first time, Steve Rogers was speechless.

It was then Bucky noticed the crowds had silenced completely save for a few murmurs behind hands clasped over mouths. A pin drop could be heard in the middle of Manhattan, at the center of Times Square. Steve nodded up to the sky and hesitantly, Bucky followed his gaze.

There, upon every screen in Times Square, replacing each advertisement and billboard down 7th avenue, was you.

Bound and strapped to that same God forsaken chair, silver tape covering your mouth for the first time, and tears streaming down your cheeks. Your heavy, exasperated breaths could be heard echoing through the street, your eyes frantically searching for something Bucky couldn’t see. In the top right corner of the screen was a single red dot. He realized with a horrible pang in his stomach, that the video was being streamed live.

Bucky scrambled to his feet, rushing a few yards forward, though he had nowhere else to go, no way to reach you through the projection of the screens. He spun in a circle, catching every monitor you were visible on, surrounding him from all sides.

“People of New York,” a voice called out, grainy and distorted, as a man in a black mask stepped into view of the camera. Hushed gasps came from the hordes of pedestrians watching in horror as the man grabbed a tight hold of your hair, enough for you to whimper. Bucky’s hands were shaking at his sides.

“Hydra has no demands. Only, a message to the Avengers,” the man continued. He pulled a silver handgun from behind his back from the waistband of his jeans. Bucky’s heart was in his throat as the man dragged the barrel of the gun suggestively up the side of your arm, over your collarbone, along your cheek, until he settled it at the nape of your neck.

Your breaths were coming in too fast, panic in your eyes Bucky hadn’t even seen the day you were taken, a kind of helplessness that shook him straight to his core.

“You are nothing compared to the reach of Hydra,” the man growled as he pressed the gun harder against your neck, forcing you to twist your head in search of relief. “These so-called heroes are weak, defenseless, and they cannot save you. They are made up of war criminals, assassins, soviet spies, washed up army brats, and arrogant billionaires. They will turn on you. They will turn on each other. They. Are. NOTHING.”

Bucky glanced back at his team, wide eyes fearful and powerless, his own voice lost to him.

Tony was cold faced, jaw clenched tightly as he watched the monitors. Sam knelt by the edge of the SUV, hands clasped over his knee, head bowed save for the moments he dared to look at the screens. Natasha was pacing back and forth relentlessly, hands curling and uncurling into fists by her sides, muttering under her breath as she glanced up at the projections, only to turn away as quickly because seeing you like that wasn’t something she ever thought she’d have to face. Steve stood just a few paces behind Bucky, watching him more than the monitors, his chest rising and falling at a speed that betrayed the calm nature of his expression.

There was nothing they could do. Entirely helpless but to watch.

“You will learn,” the man stated, straightening his back as he took a step away from you, withdrawing the gun and Bucky sighed of relief, though it was impossibly short lived. “You will learn that your heroes are no better than us and that, above all else, they are... mortal.”

Bucky heard the gun fire before he saw it.

The worst of his nightmares paled in comparison to the fear that coursed through his veins, the paralyzing shock that ripped and tore at him in ways Hydra had never been able to when he was held under their fist; not even under the sharp edge of a scalpel, or the machine that obliterated his memories.

The sharp echo of the sound punctured straight through his heart and he stumbled backwards, breaths short, uneasy, excruciating; watching in horror as you slumped forward in the chair, blood spraying onto the wall, dripping down concrete in thick beads.

“N-no,” he gasped out, rushing forward, staring up at the screens as blood soaked through your hair, your body unmoving. His hands curled against his pants, his jacket, shaking violently, and he couldn’t breathe. His vision was closing in, too blurry from the wet tears burning in his eyes.

Upon the screens, the man gripped at your hair, yanking your face up to the camera and Bucky heard a wail from behind him; Natasha. Your features were slack, eyes staring off far beyond where he could see and clouded over in a cold, unforgiving stare.

“No!” Bucky cried out, his voice breaking in the effort and burning raw in his throat, “no, n-no, please... God, no...”

The man shoved the chair until it tilted on its side until you fell from frame. The man laughed, a cold sinister kind of sound that curled its way into Bucky’s chest and lit him aflame. He stepped towards the camera, close enough that Bucky could see the color of his left eye, green, and the scar that rendered his right useless.

“And you dare to worship the Avengers like Gods,” the man sneered, his lips curving in a satisfied grin.

Bucky let out a scream and it echoed through the silence of the streets as he yanked the gun from its holster on his thigh and fired the entire clip into the closest billboard he could find. Bullet holes pierced the monitor, altering the image’s frame as it fragmented around it, shards of glass and plastic falling from the sky, and then it turned black. He felt no relief as he turned to the dozens of projections lining the streets, taunting him.

Then, the man stepped away from the camera and the video went dark.

Silence took over Times Square and Bucky stumbled on his feet; legs too weak to hold him. Muffled whimpers could be heard from the sidewalks, tearful cries as bystanders huddled together, holding one another, hundreds of pedestrians rendered witness to the murder -- the execution -- of an Avenger.

Bucky heaved, desperate to catch his breath, but he was too light headed, darkness tunneling in his vision and he fell to his knees. Rocks in the pavement punctured his skin through the layer of his pants but he couldn’t feel much of anything. Hands grasping at the fabric of his suit, trembling violently as a sob racked through his body, enough for it to echo amongst the silence.

A pain so indescribable burned and festered in his chest, unable to find a release, he pushed it from his body in a cry so heartbreaking, it cracked his voice, tears streaming down his face; no energy to care about the hundreds of onlookers.

He’d been subjected to so much evil in his life, so much hatred and cruelty, and you had been the good to come out of it. The one thing that led him through the darkest parts of his mind to the end of the tunnel where the warmth of light touched his skin again. You held him and encouraged him and helped him find his own footing so they he could walk there himself, towards the light he so desperately craved.

But that light had extinguished. Smothered and suffocated.

It died with you, leaving Bucky surrounded by the cold arms of darkness.

Alone.

------

This is the serious angst I’ve been trying to warn you about... Theories anyone? 😅

tags 🗽 @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @panic-naran / @fairislesheets / @kaliforniacoastalteens / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @daydreamsquad / @deanssweetheart / @maybesomedaytho / @montypythonsholysnail / @saharzek / @jillybeaner13 / @chubby-dumplin / @searchingforbucky / @alohafromhell1 / @tabalugax / @shesalatesh / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @aliensbecameourstyle / @bucksgoat / @serpensortiaaa / @trash-rats-unite / @hungry-pasta / @nervosaa / @lbuck121/ @get0verit / @obama-mia / @imsoft-barnes / @this-broken-band-girl / @michelehansel / @itz-kira / @forever157 / @grey-water-colors / @sebastianstan-posts / @sarcastic-and-cool / @no-clue-whats-happenin / @capsgrl / @happyeyesandsunshine / @slithredn / @13sunken-ships13 / @thefandomplace / @sweetheartbarnes / @jennmurawski13 / @galaxkay / @moonlessnight14 / @wxstedhexrt

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #bucky barnes x female reader #guiding light #tw: graphic violence #tw: character death

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hayleyb100 · 4 years ago

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Light My Way, Part 9

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 the end

⚠️ WARNING! ⚠️ -It is a twisted story of Pokemon Sun and Moon, and a crossover of Pokemon SM and SWSH. -It features Hau and Kabu as the main characters. -Extremely angsty. -Everything is headcanon. -It isn’t spoiler-free.

The peaceful daily life returned to Kabu and Hau. They strolled the Motorstocke City together, sometimes stopping by at the cafe to enjoy some treats. They went to the grocery store to buy ingredients for their meals. They went to the Wild Area, but not to do a harsh training but to watch happy pokemons under Kabu's protection. It wasn't anything special or something to make your eyes pop out, but that was enough to give joy to the family's life.

With Kabu's care and love confirmed through the Wild Area incident, a bright smile never left Hau's face. Kabu was exhilarated to see such positive changes happening to Hau. He was content that his love is reaching his son, and somewhat proud of himself too. At this rate, Kabu's dream of adopting Hau seemed so near in his reach.

Little did he know, what happened in the Wild Area wasn't the last hurdle to overcome.

___________________________________

*Ding-dong*

"Yes? Who is it?" while they were playing a board game, the doorbell rang.

When Kabu opened the door, a stranger was standing.

"Good afternoon. Are you Kabu by any chance?" the stranger asked.

"Yes, I am he... May I be of help?"

"I'm here to see Hau."

Kabu frowned instantly and grabbed the door tight, to shut it tight if he is a kidnapper or something.

"...Dad?" Hau's voice from behind stabbed Kabu's ears. What?

"Hau! Oh, my son." The man who Hau called father pushed Kabu aside and marched in to cuddle the little Alolan child.

"Wh... What are you doing here?" Hau opened his eyes round and wide as if he is wondering.

"I have been looking for you." his dad said with dewy eyes.

"I searched for you everywhere in Alola, before I discovered that you were sent to be fostered in Galar."

"Wait, so... Are you saying you are Hau's biological father?" Kabu's voice started to tremble, as his mind became uneasy from an obvious consequence.

"Yes. And you are?"

"I... I'm Kabu. The one who has been fostering Hau."

"I see! Let me convey my appreciation. Thank you." Hau's father shook Kabu's hand as he wore the smile of a gentleman, but the Fire Gym Leader was doubtful for an obvious reason.

Where was this guy?

"I'm so sorry, Hau... I wanted to come to get you as soon as I heard you were in danger... But I was sick on my side too, so daddy had to stay in the hospital for a while."

It was dangerous to jump into conclusion, but Kabu could not stop thinking that is such a convenient lie.

"Are... Are you okay now, dad?" Hau, the overly kind child, still worried about his irresponsible dad.

"Of course I am now." The dad nodded.

"Ahem... Excuse me, Mr. Kabu. May I talk to my son alone? I'm sure you know, but there are a lot of things to catch up between father and son."

Kabu doesn't know why, but he could feel his internal organs twisted from disgust and rage.

Did he say father and son just now?

Is he even qualified to address himself that title?

He WASN'T THERE WHEN HAU WAS AT THE LOWEST.

HOW DARE-

Kabu almost punched his face, kicked him right out of his house, and sent him packing to Alola, but he restrained with all his might as Hau was there. And he knows that however the foster or adoptive parents try, the child will always miss their biological parents. He also knew that if he blocks them from their bio parents, they will yearn for them more. Kabu had to nod without a choice. He never thought it was a problem, but the fact that he doesn't share blood with Hau ravaged his heart.

Hau's dad held his son's hand and took him away, as Hau reluctantly followed. Seeing Hau walking away just made Kabu agitated as Falink deserted from its troop. Who knows what that bio father will talk to his child?

_______________________________

"I'm so glad to see you again doing well. Have some."

"Thank you, dad..." Hau said uneasily, as he took a bite out of the pancake that his father bought for him in the cafe.

"How have you been? Did the foster father take good care of you?"

Hau noded instantly, as there was no doubt that Kabu and others in Galar were ever so kind to him.

"I met so many people. My foster father was a wonderful person and so were others! Milo, Nessa, even Hop... They encouraged me and loved me as their own."

"I see." father spat out soullessly as he moved onto his point.

"Hau. Actually, I came to get you."

"...Sorry?" Hau couldn't believe his ears. What did he just say?

"Now I am better and all, I want to take you back to Alola."

No. That short answer popped up right into Hau's head, but his dad didn't give him a chance to say it. He babbled on.

"I know I have been an irresponsible parent. I know that. If only I wasn't ill... But let's not give an excuse. I want to redeem myself for the wrong deeds. Please, can you not give papa that chance?"

"..........." Hau was still hesitant. He was definitely sitting right in front of his 'father', but it was as if he was encountering a complete stranger who met the first time in this cafe. He felt so far away from him emotionally that he couldn't say yes to his suggestion. Hau knew that. Hau now knows why his father wasn't there when he was going through all the bitterness, but that didn't lift any of his repulsiveness.

Whatever the reason, he WASN'T THERE.

The polarized emotions in Hau started to swirl like a tornado. They resent that he wasn't there when he needed his dad the most, but at the same time, the feeling towards the only blood-related family left.

Seeing his son hesitating to answer, the father pulled out a cheat card from his sleeve.

"I bet your mom and Tutu would love to see us happy back as a family together. They would miss you in Alola."

That stabbed Hau's guilt again. His guilt on making them die. Hau was near to vomiting at this point. He thought he moved on, but the guilt haunted him yet again. He stared at his dad.

"Please? Give this daddy a chance to make things better. Don't you wanna go home and see Tutu and mama again?"

Hau started sweating from pressure. The answer was so hard to get. However, before he knew it, Hau's guilt was forcing him to nod.

"Oh, thank you, Hau... I promise I will be the best dad on the planet."

Hau felt so bad for Kabu and everyone who worked super intense to heal him, but he wouldn't help it. But Hau was entirely unaware he could answer with all the NO of the world, as his dad was making the evil smirk behind his back.

As you have guessed, it was conspicuous that this so-called dad didn't come to redeem himself. Absolutely no way. After Hau moved to Galar and things settled down in Alola, this shameless fucktard showed himself to get the bequest of Hala, claiming he is the son. But unfortunately for him, Nanu and Olivia sneered and notified him that his rights to inherit the bequest were terminated long ago when he ran away from Alola declaring he will not inherit the position of Kahuna. So, to fulfill his dirty scheme, he now needed Hau, who still has the right to inherit Hala's position and legacies. And as soon as he gets all the fortune he wants with the pretext to be Hau's caretaker, he is ready to dump him again to another region where Hau can never find him. A perfect plan on his side.

Poor Hau who doesn't have any idea about the malicious side of his dad agreed to go back to Alola with him, completely gaslighted like a butterfly caught in a spider's net.

_____________________________________

"I beg your pardon?" Kabu's heart dropped as Hau's dad explained their plans.

"It is as you heard. Hau agreed to move back to Alola with me."

"I... But..." Kabu was losing his breath as he asked with his eyes to Hau if it was true. Hau didn't say anything and tore his eyes away from Kabu.

Kabu felt as if his whole world was caving in. He worked with all his might to bring a smile back on Hau's face and this random guy came out of nowhere and tried to snatch the child away from him. It was absurd. No way.

"What is with the face of complaints? Were you seriously trying to ADOPT the child when his parents were alive and well? Haha, thank you for loving Hau so much. But as long as the biological parents are alive, the custody lies on me. So... let's just say it is unfortunate that you don't share blood with Hau."

Blood. THAT DAMN BLOOD. WHY DOES GENE HAVE TO TOP THE EMOTIONAL BOND?

Kabu gripped his hand so hard that it turned scarlet and clenched his jaws until his molars felt like cracking into pieces. He could feel his body trembling like a dead leaf with the upset. It was... unfair. Just UNFAIR.

"We will leave tomorrow, so if you have time, please come to say goodbye to Hau. In fact, please make the time to come. I'm sure Hau would like to bid farewell too. Now, let's go, Hau. We'll sleep in daddy's accommodation today."

After they left, Kabu sat alone in the living room. He didn't know how to feel. It was as if his whole efforts were wasted into thin air. He didn't cry. He wasn't feeling sad. Rather, he was furious. Furious towards the goddamn law tearing his beloved son away from him.

...Son? Did he say, son?

#gym leader kabu #kabu #pokemon kabu #rival hau #trainer hau #hau #pokemon gen 7 #pokemon generation 7 #pokemon sm #pokemon generation 8 #pokemon gen 8 #pokemon swsh #pokemon sword and shield

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katehuntington · 5 years ago

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Title: Ride With Me (part seventeen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±4700 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part seventeen: Unable to sleep, Y/N goes over last night’s events, until she gets an unexpected visitor. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘After My Heart + Can’t Help Falling In Love’ - John Michael Howell. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Please listen to this song during the scene, it’s so worth it! Author’s note: I’m excited for this one, y’all! Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish and @winchest09 for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends.

Ride With Me Masterlist

The bunkhouse is silent after a festive night. All the lights out, except for the one on Y/N’s bedside table. Sleep might have come limited the past week, but she isn’t ready to close her eyes just yet. The adventurous trail, combined with the unexpected news about her qualification has her riled up with excitement.

Not sure what to do with this new found energy, she has taken out one of her notebooks, which is filled with scrabbles. She won State Championships with a relatively simple floorplan, not wanting to overshoot, but if she wants to leave an impression with the judges at Congress, she needs to step up her game. Combinations between exercises will push up her degree of difficulty, so she decided to change a few lines. Working on her freestyle tonight wasn’t entirely according to plan, but who knows, maybe the tequila and beer will add some creativity.

She has changed into a comfortable tank top and a pair of shorts, the soft fabric a contrast to the sandy denim she’s been clad in the past days. The temperature is comfortably warm, early October in Arizona much more like summer compared to the autumn days she’s used to in Maine.

Strangely, she hasn’t been homesick for Freeport at all. She misses her mom and dad, her brothers, but after her time living on campus, she’s used to being away from family. Her father travels a lot for work, and Jaime, her older brother by three years, moved to the other side of the country straight out of the Police Academy, fighting crime in Los Angeles these days. Middle kid Jackson bought a house in Boston and is busy with his real estate firm, while her oldest brother, Jeff and his wife are expecting their first child. Y/N wouldn’t say they have grown apart, but now that she and her siblings don’t share a house anymore, things have changed. They’ve spread their wings, built a life for themselves.

She checks her phone when a message from Jaime pops up, sending her a selfie in which he shows off his muscles, holding up a fist. ‘Show them what you’re made of! You’re gonna ace that ride!’ he added in the caption. She closes the text, scrolling down the list of messages from family and friends, until she finds one from Jeffrey, which is a little more lengthy. ‘Mom said I had to wait until Dad reached you, so I hope you got the news by now, otherwise I’m in trouble. Congratulations, Sis. You worked so hard for this. I’m really proud of you, and I know Grandpa will be cheering you on from above. You’re already a champion.’ She smiles at the sweet words; she should really give him a call next week.

Redirecting her attention to the notebook in her lap, she picks up her pen, sketches a new line, crosses it and bites on the pen cap, pondering. Marcel, her trainer at the Freeport Equestrian Center, helped her with the first version. She could get in touch with him tomorrow, she’s sure he will be willing to shed a light on what she has so far. Distance will be an issue, though, and with time being of the essence since it’s only fifteen days before they head towards Columbus, Ohio, where Congress is held, she has to take a different approach.

What if she asks Dean to help her with the freestyle, or even to come with her to the show? He has helped her a couple of times during training and she appreciates his approach. His suggestions and tips paid off; his methods really seemed to work for both her and Meadow. The head wrangler knows Y/N and her horse well enough to offer advice in bringing out their best qualities, she just hopes he’s up for it. After some drinks, Dean didn’t stick around long. When she asked Jo where he went, she said Dean offered to do the final feeding round. Y/N thought about following him, but didn’t want to draw attention from the rest of the crew; them both gone would’ve raised suspicion and she doesn’t want to put him in the spot of having to explain himself.

When Y/N noticed his absence, her stomach made an unpleasant flip. The uneasy sensation remained the rest of the evening, not evident, but brewing nonetheless, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. She wonders if something has changed, maybe. That coming home to the ranch caused Dean to reconsider. Why else would he distance himself?

Doubtful, she takes a breath, her mind going places she’d rather not be. Still missing a steady foundation for them to start building a relationship on, doubt surfaces again. Deep down she’s scared that the cowboy might back out, which would cause heartbreak she’s not sure she can handle. She cares too much already, she’s too far gone. Y/N is passing the station of just being in love with Dean; it’s growing into something even more.

Before her thoughts can spiral further, there’s a soft knock on the door. The kind that is soft enough to not wake her had she been sleeping, but loud enough for her to hear if she wasn’t. She slides out of bed, rises to her bare feet, careful not to bump her head against the top bunk like she has so many times already, and crosses her room. When she opens the door, she finds the man who has been on her mind on the other side, locking his green eyes on her. She’s pleasantly surprised to see him with it being past 11 PM already; she expected him to be in bed long ago after the exhausting past few days. “Hey, what are you doing u--”

He doesn’t let her finish and bridges the few feet between them, cupping her face with both hands and pulling her into a kiss. After the initial shock, which only lasts a fraction of a second, he can feel her lashes brush against his skin as she closes her eyes and melts into him, allowing him to deepen the connection. Her response takes away the restlessness that weighed on his chest like a chunk of concrete, ever since the thought of her leaving arose.

They step into her room far enough for Dean to kick the door shut, preventing possible eavesdroppers from tuning in, his mouth never leaving hers. Instinctively, her arms snake around his torso, tracing the lines of his strong back through the fabric of his shirt. There’s a desperation in his touch that’s new to her, the way he longs for this connection is different. Eventually, he breaks the kiss and she studies him when he rests his forehead against hers. His eyes stay closed for a little longer, holding on to the moment while his hands slip from her face.

He didn’t want to steal a few seconds while surrounded by the crew, he didn’t want to get in line to give her a quick hug or a peck on the cheek. No, he needed to be with her, just the two of them without restrictions.

“What was that for?” she wonders. “Just wanted to congratulate you.” He smiles, trying to mask his concern, and sweetly presses his lips on hers again. “Personally.” And again. “Privately.” And again. She giggles, triggering him to chuckle as well. He moves his head back to take her in. “Congratulations, Yankee,” he says, genuine. “You earned it.” “Thank you,” she smiles, still slightly confused. “Where’d you go earlier?” “Someone had to feed those poor starving animals,” he jokes. “And since Bobby already had a few whiskies, and Garth is an absolute light weight, I took one for the team.”

He was quick to take the final feeding round, not just because he was the last man standing. Doing one last check, giving the horses their hay for the night, making sure the stables are shut properly, locking up the tackroom and the cafeteria and eventually the large barn doors after switching off the lights; it offers him peace of mind. It’s a daily routine, a recurring series of actions, done so 365 days a year. Ensuring everything is exactly the way it’s supposed to be in the place where he lives and works, grounds him when he’s feeling restless. It gives him a moment alone, the horses his only company, allowing him to think things over and collect himself again. Tonight was no different, because even though he was relieved Y/N’s father wasn’t the bearer of bad news, Dean felt disturbed with his initial response. For a good few minutes, he thought he was going to lose her, and the anxiety it surfaced was much more intense than he anticipated.

Y/N keeps watching him as the cowboy is lost in thought. He’s trying to be funny and cute, but that’s not all there is to it; his eyes tell a different story. He kissed her a little too fierce, pulled her in a little too tight. Something is bothering him, and although she doesn’t want to force him to talk, she needs to know what it is before she loses her mind herself. “What’s wrong, Dean?” she asks, softly, moving her hands up his chest. “It’s nothin’,” he assures, shaking his head.

But when the concern remains evident in her expression, he sighs. He doesn’t want her to worry, or think it’s something she’s done. If anything, she’s been absolutely perfect. God, she’s so patient. Even though she needs him, she offers him space. Expressing how he feels might be terrifying, it’s about time he’s fair with the woman who’s willing to wait. “It’s just that, uh - when your dad called, he… he sounded pretty serious,” Dean admits, looking down. “I thought something might have happened with your folks or somethin’, and that you...” He pauses, struggling, but Y/N knows enough. “You thought Dad was going to tell me to come back,” she realizes.

Suddenly his behavior makes so much more sense. His complete change of demeanor when he approached her table in the saloon after receiving the call, him seeming as nervous as she was when she picked up the phone. The sigh of relief when she told him and Jo the great news, his disappearance from the celebration at the saloon. Dean thought he was going to lose her, and apparently it scared him. Y/N is as stunned by the realization, as she is by the confirming nod he gives her.

“Well - I mean - it could’ve been, right?” he says, shrugging his shoulders almost apologetically, like he’s not allowed to be worried about a presumption as such. “I’m twenty-four, Dean. I’m not going anywhere unless I want to,” she reminds him, hoping to offer him some consolation. “Glad to hear it,” he responds, his hands moving to her waist as he restores eye contact. “‘cause I’d hate to see you go.”

Heartfelt, the beautiful girl in his arms smiles. She seems to understand the weight of his words, because she crosses her wrists behind his head and urges him to come closer. Dean’s heart swells in his chest when she brushes her lips against his, tentatively at first. His mind calms, the nerves subsiding. Not only is she staying, she also understands what’s going on in his head, and in a strange and unexpected way, it’s kind of liberating. Not having to pretend and put on a mask, not having to convince anyone that everything is fine. He’s gotten so used to telling people he’s okay, the words to express himself prove to be hard to grasp. Who knows, maybe one day he’ll get the hang of it.

Dean’s mind goes blank when she deepens the kiss, swiping her tongue against his bottom lip. Her arms close around his neck a little tighter, holding him so close he can feel the warmth coming from her skin. She smells amazing, the scent of her shampoo still lingering in her hair, a sweet smell of a flower he can’t name. He presses his fingertips into her flesh, carefully shifting them under the hem of her tank top, even though he knows very well that he shouldn’t. It isn’t going to take long before he will not be able to stop himself.

She feels him trace her sides, rolling up the fabric of her top as he does so. Normally she would be self-conscious about it, but when she parts from him when running out of air, all she sees in his eyes is adoration and want. Both seem to be waiting for each other, unsure if they should take this further. Afterall, considering what they agreed on, this would be a poor execution of taking things slow.

Without breaking away from her gaze, his left hand travels down, following the curves of her hips. He adds pressure, gently pulling her against him. What she feels through the denim of his jeans has her eyes grow wide. A delightful tension starts to tangle up in her stomach, sinking deeper. Somewhat surprised that she apparently has this effect on him, she takes in a shuddering breath, gazing deep into his eyes. God, she wants to go there, but is he willing to as well? “Are you sure?” she checks with him. Dean doesn’t have to think twice and nods. To hell with it, he’s not going to waste another second. “I want you,” he breathes, his voice husky.

It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear him say. It might not be the confirmation of their relationship she’s been hoping to get eventually; it’s better. He wants her. He wants her.

Free from restraints, she crashes her lips to his and Dean doesn’t hesitate to return the kiss with the same need. All the question marks, the doubt, the thoughts along the line of ‘what if it goes wrong?’ and ‘maybe we shouldn’t do this’ go right out the window. It wouldn’t matter if they waited longer, because if that wake up call taught the cowboy anything, it’s that together or not, it would tear him to pieces if she were ever to leave the ranch. If he’s going to spend this time with her, he better make it worth her while, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll stay with him in the end.

Eventually, his mouth leaves hers and begins to descend, his breath tickling her skin as he ghosts down her neck. Willingly, she rolls her head to her shoulder, offering him space to leave marks on her pulse point, then down her collarbone. The hint of delicious pain has her fighting back a moan, which proves to be challenging, especially when his hands roam down to cover her peach-shaped behind. Trying to distract herself and be useful at the same time, she begins to unbutton his plaid shirt, his touch momentarily interrupted until the piece of clothing falls to the floor in a puddle of blue, soon followed by his white undershirt.

Before Dean urges her closer again, he drags the only chair in the room away from the small table by the window, sitting down and pulling her with him. The wood underneath them creaks when she settles in his lap, her bare knees on either side of the cowboy, holding herself up and leaning into his bare chest. The denim of his jeans stretches over his erection, rubbing against her core. The sheer thought of a few layers of fabric being the only barrier between him and her, sends a surge of heat to dampen her panties. Thank God she chose the lace ones earlier after her shower, the ones she can only wear whenever she’s not spending her day in the saddle. She wonders if he can tell how aroused she is already.

Dean can. He can feel the warmth radiating towards him and he can feel himself growing even harder, too. His breath hitches and he stifles a groan when she rolls her hips, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Ho-ly shit. This might not be how he originally imagined their first time, in this tiny room with thin walls, this one chair and a bunk bed, but it feels so good. He has enveloped her in his arms, his hands roam her body, not leaving a square inch unattended. Without tearing the seams, he pulls the strap of her loosely fitted tank top over one shoulder, the material shifting down. His fingers then reposition to cup her breast, all while he presses kisses on top. When he moves his thumb over her stiff nipple, she pulls in an audible gasp. “Sssh…” he hushes. “Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors.”

Y/N can’t help it, though. The friction she feels beneath her, combined with the touch of his mouth and his fingertips, is already beginning to build her up. She begins to pant, her lungs pushing out air in quivers. Dean doesn’t stop, however, and continues to knead her breast without hurting her, smothering the sounds she makes with another breathtaking kiss. His other hand has snaked around her waist again, splayed on the small of her back now, spurring her on to move against him. Good God, if he keeps this up, she might come undone without him even actually touching her down there.

The chair creaks louder when she moves against him, triggering Dean to cringe. The old furniture is either going to break or wake everyone in the bunkhouse, and so he pulls Y/N flush against him and stands up. Without missing a beat or breaking the kiss, she folds her legs around his waist as he walks her to the bed. Laying her down and fitting himself on top turns out to be a little more difficult than he thought it would be, the bunk bed limiting his space, but after some shimmying, he manages.

He hovers over the woman he’s about to be intimate with, mesmerized by the sight of her laying underneath him, her chest heaving, her eyes lustful. She’s the definition of gorgeous without even trying. Dude, how the hell did you manage to hold back this long?

The trail of kisses he presses on her stomach has Y/N arching her back, her eyes closed in delight as he travels down. Gently, he opens her legs a little wider, feather light touches electrifying her skin, sending currents towards her center. His hands leave her then, teasingly letting her wait in suspense. She listens, trying to pick up on any sound of him breathing or moving, her senses operating on full capacity. He’s testing her patience like he has done for the past few days. A chill runs down her spine as seconds tick by, but then Dean palms her heat through the fabric of her shorts. She bites her bottom lip at the unexpected connection, her fists clenching the comforter and a moan escaping her throat. This is happening. This is really happening.

Y/N feels him tracing the waistband of her shorts, before hooking his thumbs underneath the hem. He’s about to drag them down and move in, when they hear a door handle being pushed down. Her eyes shoot open in time to see Dean jerk back and sit up startled, hitting his head hard against the top bunk. The collision of his skull with the solid wood creates a loud bang, followed by a strangled groan. He curses through gritted teeth, trying to make as little noise as possible, while outside the room a door shuts. Horrified, they both stare at the other end of the room, not moving a muscle as shuffling footsteps cross the hall, opening another door and closing it again. A toilet seat is lifted up, the person whistling to himself softly. There can be only one person who needs encouragement to relieve himself: Garth.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean hisses. Y/N is unable to stop a snort, sniggering silently, even though she tries not to. “You okay?” she checks, trying to sound concerned. Not very convincing, apparently, because Dean shoots her a glare, while rubbing the sore spot on his head. The toilet flushes loudly and obscenely, triggering the woman underneath him to giggle unstoppably. When he shushes her, frantically holding his finger to his lips, it achieves the opposite, causing him to break character as well. Doing their best to keep it down, she clasps her hand over her mouth while Dean presses his lips together, trying to compose himself. “You need to be quiet,” he whispers. “I c-can’t”, she hiccups, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Garth heads back to his room, either sleep walking or he’s deaf, because he doesn’t pick up on any of the action happening on the other side of the hall. His door closes, the springs of his bed creak as he gets back in, and silence returns. “Would you stop?” Dean chuckles, poking Y/N’s side when she fails to control her laughing fit. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she returns, struggling to keep it down. “How’s your head?” “It’s alright,” he claims, ignoring the slight bump when he runs his hand through his hair. “Moment’s gone, ain’t it?”

She wipes the tears from her face, breathing in now that she’s capable again. Comforting, she reaches for his hand. As much as she would like to continue, the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal. Their first time together shouldn’t have to be clumsy and uncomfortable, in a bed that’s too small in a room with paper thin walls. “Rain check?” she proposes. Dean leans in to leave a kiss on her lips. “Rain check. ‘Sides, wouldn’t wanna have to hold back because you can’t keep it down.” She pokes him in his stomach now. “Don’t get cocky.”

Dean scoffs, sliding from the bed without hitting his head this time. Grinning mischievously, he turns around, pulling her to her feet as well. The cowboy takes a second to really look at her again, glad to notice the lack of insecurity in her composure. Her hair is messy, strands escaping the loose bun at the base of her neck, ready for bed in her pajama shorts and a comfortable top. She could have felt self-conscious in this situation, especially since their moment together came to an abrupt and slightly awkward end. But she isn’t, she feels at ease when she’s with him. A small smile forms on the cowboy’s lips.

“You should get some sleep. We’ll skip the afternoon siestas, now that the temperatures are droppin’, so we’ll start an hour and a half later tomorrow. I figured you might wanna train Meadow first thing in the morning?” he suggests, picking up his shirts from the floor. Y/N agrees, glad that she’s being given the space to focus on Congress. “Dean, about that…” He glances back, patiently waiting for the follow up. “I was wondering if you could maybe help me out with my freestyle?” she asks, a little shy. “Yeah, of course,” the head wrangler responds without hesitation. “Great,” she breathes, relieved. “And there’s this other thing.” Dean steps closer, laying his shirt and flannel over his shoulder so that he has his hands free and can lace his fingers with hers. “What is it?” “I was hoping you could coach me,” she says, looking up at him. “Not just at home, but when I have to compete in Columbus, too.”

Humbled, he gazes back, the corners of his mouth curving up. Coaching such a skilled rider as Y/N would be an absolute privilege, and with the trainers he knows she’s had, he’s surprised she’s asking him. Sure, the connection they have personally is there on a much more professional level as well, but they are talking Congress here, the biggest show of the year, and possibly the most important one of her career. Apparently, she has as much faith in his abilities to guide her as he has faith in her talent. “It’ll be my pleasure,” he states. “Really?” Y/N responds, thrilled. “Hell, yeah,” Dean says, excited. “I’ll have to check with management if I can get time off for Congress, but I have plenty of days left. Plus, I think Ellen is kinda rooting for us.” She chuckles, but then does a double take. “Wait, what? Ellen knows we’re together? I - I mean, not together together, I get that we’re not an item--” “-Ellen knows,” he grins, squeezing her hand when he interrupts her nervous train of words. “I think basically everyone knows by now, except Garth and Bobby.”

A little uneasy Y/N glances from their hands up into his eyes. Wait… Is she reading too much into his words? He didn’t correct her when she used the term ‘together’. Why didn’t he? Is he worried he might upset her again? If anything, she doesn’t want to push him to oblige to something he’s not ready for. “Dean, I know we just… I didn’t mean--” She pauzes, collects herself and starts over. “I know you’re not ready for a relationship and that’s fine, we had that conversation already. I’m not trying to rush you.” “You’re not rushin’ me,” he assures, calmly. “I just needed a wake up call in order to pull my head out of my ass.” The woman before him hesitates, “W-what do you mean?”

The wrangler wets his lips, taking a second to choose his words carefully. “When your old man called, for a minute I thought you were about to hop on a plane and that I was never gonna see you again,” he admits. “And - uh, it kinda freaked me out, to be honest.” He huffs, barely able to believe what he’s about to say. “I’m not gonna keep you waitin’ any longer, Yankee. I know I said I want you, earlier, but truth is…”

Y/N watches him glance down at their hands again, running his thumb over her knuckles. Nerves close off her throat, because she has a hunch that he’s about to break it to her; he doesn’t want the commitment.

Tears begin to prick in her eyes, but not from laughter this time. She knew it was going to be difficult to get close to him. Dean keeps to himself, probably because he cared too much in the past and learned his lesson the hard way. The possibility of her leaving spooked him today, and now he’s done. He doesn’t want to risk that kind of heartbreak, he doesn’t want to rely on anyone. Dean Winchester would rather fill his world with a hundred shallow and meaningless flings than with one solid partner, and this is him setting her free, before things get out of -- “I wanna be with you.”

Her racing mind, which was breaking the speed limit, hits a brick wall. Shocked, she pulls her eyes away from their entwined fingers, gazing at him almost dumbfoundedly. Did he just say he wants to be with me? “W-what?” she stammers. “I mean, if you’ll still have me,” Dean adds, a little unsettled by her response. “Look, I know I’m not exactly an open book and that I behave like a dick sometimes when you try to get through to me. I’m stubborn as hell and my communication skills need some work—”

Now it’s Y/N who cuts him off for a change, closing the gap and kissing him passionately. He eases into her, smiling against her lips and leaves a peck on her hair when she embraces him and buries her face under his chin. Relieved, he allows the breath he was holding to leave his lungs. “So, what do you say?” he asks, cocking his head back slightly to be able to look her in the eye again. “Up for a challenge?” “Are we talking about us training together for Congress, or us as a couple?” she checks, regaining her footing again. Dean frowns and chuckles at that. “Both.” She doesn’t need time to think. She knew the answer to this question long before Dean was ready to ask. “Yes,” she beams. “Hell, yes.”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part eighteen here

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