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happy74827 · 3 months

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The Perfect Gift of Appreciation

[Rudy Cooper (technically) x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Being severely injured with zero money to back up your bills, you decide to take an emergency visit to the only doctor you personally know.

WC: 2897

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff,

A lot of you actually liked my Brian fic (love y’all), so I wanted to make another for you guys. I’m sad that there’s still none 😔😔

『••✎••』

He was absolutely pissed. Granted, he didn’t actually tell you, but the way his face fell into utter disappointment when he finally answered his door was all the information you needed. You couldn’t help but frown, your hand moving to cover your poorly bandaged arm as you watched him.

It made sense; the man had just come home from his shift, and his outfit was still intact with his suit and lab coat, with exhaustion weighing on his eyes. The man looked downright miserable, and with you looking like a wet rat from the rain and the blood seeping from your wound, he couldn't imagine a less welcome sight.

You both just stood there staring at one another, the rain pounding against the umbrella over your head. The wind was picking up, and you knew it was going to storm harder. You really couldn’t stand the look he was giving you.

"Hey, Rudy," You managed out, swallowing hard as the pain began to seep into your voice. You endured quite a lot to get here, and you weren’t about to let your pride show now.

The man before you let out a tired sigh, leaning against the doorframe as he closed his eyes.

"You do realize what time it is, don't you?" He questioned the usual cheerfulness of his voice, which was replaced with annoyance. It hurt a bit to hear, but you didn't blame him. It’s quite rude to show up unannounced, and it was even worse considering you showed up after 2 am.

Your eyes averted downwards, feeling ashamed for even showing up here. The last thing you wanted was to bother him, especially at a time like this.

Yet, you couldn’t go anywhere else. Money wasn’t quite flowing well in your area, and it was bad enough to where you had no insurance. You were a simple college student, working odd jobs here and there while balancing school and the like.

The job you had recently obtained was a janitor position for a nearby grocery store, and things seemed pretty good for a bit. It was not enough to pay those outrageous health bills, but it was getting you by.

"I need a favor... I know it's not exactly the best time to be asking, but please, just listen—" You began, the words spilling out of your mouth just as you’ve rehearsed them a million times.

Before you could continue, Rudy opened his eyes and looked down at you with a small frown. He already noticed the way you held your arm and the way you kept glancing at it. He knew what this was about; he knew the moment he opened the door and saw the desperation in your eyes.

Your name fell from his lips, drained and tired as he rubbed his forehead. He was silent for a bit, just as you were, and when he finally looked back up, his frown grew deeper.

"You seriously can’t afford to get simple treatment? How do you even know if I have the right supplies to fix something like this up, huh?"

You didn’t reply, merely biting down on your lip as you looked away. It was true, you weren't sure. Yet, Rudy had always been so kind to you, always willing to offer his help and support when you needed it.

The man sighed, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was doing this; he had to wake up in a few hours, and now he had to deal with this.

The only thing keeping him from saying no was the look you gave him.

You weren’t one to beg or ask for help. You usually dealt with things on your own, and when you couldn’t, you were willing to work it off. He admired that about you, how you weren't the type to depend on others.

The fact that you were even here, soaked to the bone and asking for his help, proved to him just how serious the situation was.

You had no other choice, and he knew that.

So, without a word, Rudy stepped aside and gestured for you to enter. The relief was immediate, and before he could blink, you were inside, the sound of the rain slowly fading behind you.

The warmth of his home was a great contrast from the outside, and you couldn’t help but sigh contently as he threw his coat off and led you down the hall.

His duffel was still beside the couch, a sign that he had just returned moments before. Somehow, it made you feel worse, knowing that you interrupted his much-needed rest.

You followed Rudy through the living room, landing in the kitchen where the door to his basement was. You were about to follow him downwards, side-stepping past him, but a hand slammed against the doorframe just before you could.

Startled, you looked up at Rudy, a brow raised at the sudden stop. He was staring at you, his expression unreadable, and it made you grow uncomfortable.

"Stay here. I’ll be up in a minute, okay?" His voice changed slightly, sounding far more awake than before.

"Can’t you just do it down there? I mean, that’s where all your stuff is, right?"

Why go through all the trouble of bringing everything upstairs?

He shook his head, his lips pulling into a tight line. It looked like he was thinking something over, and when he finally spoke, he seemed hesitant.

"Just trust me, okay? Just wait here. I promise I won't be long."

You frowned, wanting to question him, but Rudy was already moving down the stairs. The door shut behind him, and the next thing you knew, you were left alone in the kitchen.

Confused, you couldn't help but stare at the door.

Why didn’t he want you down there? That was pretty odd behavior for someone who loved to brag about his work. You couldn’t recall a time when Rudy wasn’t so open about what he did.

So why the sudden change?

You didn’t want to question it, and instead, you hummed and sat down in the chair. You could hear his footsteps echo downstairs, and you waited patiently for him to return.

The sound of the basement door opening was almost instant, and when Rudy entered, you noticed the big medical box in his arms. You couldn’t help but watch the man walk around his kitchen, his movements slow and calculated as he made his way over to you.

Rudy placed the box onto the table, popped it open, and began to pull out the gloves, rubbing alcohol, and gauze. The man grabbed a chair and pulled it across from you, and as he did, he glanced up at you and smiled.

Your mind, however, was still elsewhere.

"Hiding a body down there, or something? You were taking forever, know..." You mumbled, your gaze shifting from the box to Rudy.

He chortled at the comment, glancing up momentarily to give you a small smile before resuming his task of pulling out the medical supplies.

He didn’t say anything other than the comments about your wound. How’d you get it? If it hurt, how long ago did it happen…

You know, the typical doctor questions.

Rudy took your arm in his, his hold gentle as he carefully removed the cloth that was once your makeshift bandage. You winced, hissing as the material peeled away some of the dried blood, and it caused Rudy to glance up at you apologetically.

As the cloth finally came off, Rudy didn’t make any type of comment. He didn't react to the deep cut on your arm other than the occasional flicker of his eyes. To you, it was absolutely jarring. It looked so much worse than you expected, and you couldn’t help but glance away as the man poured the alcohol onto the gauze.

He must’ve been used to this kind of thing, considering he didn’t so much as bat an eye.

The alcohol felt cold against your skin, and you bit your tongue to prevent the pain from escaping. Rudy didn't say a word as he cleaned up the wound, and you took the time to glance at the man.

Rudy was focused, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on your wound. He was careful but quick, and his actions were precise and methodical. The way he moved was almost fascinating, and before you knew it, he was done with that part.

Rudy tossed the now bloodied gauze into the trash can that was temporarily beside the table and then reached for the next item.

The numbing shot.

The man paused, his gaze lifting from the supplies and up to your face. Rudy, the sweet and caring guy, had a very different face whenever he worked. He had his usual soft and comforting smile, but the way he constantly looked at your arm was so… cold.

He almost looked bored.

You blinked, and suddenly, he was staring at you, his brows raised.

You stared, unable to find the words, but the moment he spoke, the spell was broken.

Rudy gave you a sheepish smile, gesturing the shot in his hands. He warned you about the small prickle, gesturing to the shot in his hands, the prickle that’s never just a prick of the skin. It’s always quite painful.

The needle was tiny, but the feeling of the sensation entering your body was enough to make you grit your teeth. You felt your face grow warm, the embarrassment washing over you as the pain became a dull ache.

It didn't last long, and soon Rudy was shaking it around, supposedly making the numbing effect act faster.

Then, the waiting game. He told you around five to ten minutes, depending on your tolerance, and that's how you both ended up sitting across from one another in silence.

Rudy was tapping his fingers against the table, the only sound filling the air. You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged, and the occasional yawn that escaped him.

"I’m sorry," You said, finally breaking the silence. His facial expression didn’t help you feel better, the frown on his lips growing deeper as he shook his head.

"Don’t be sorry." He mumbled, his eyes closing briefly as he inhaled sharply. "Truth be told, I actually despise apologies. And it's not like you did this to yourself on purpose, anyways…"

That was true, you supposed. Still, the guilt wouldn't leave you alone.

When the man didn’t receive a reply, Rudy looked at you with a tired smile. His hands moved over the medical box, and with a slight push, it was out of the way and no longer between you.

Rudy then leaned forward, placing his elbows against the table, and folded his hands beneath his chin.

"You know, I miss this."

You blinked, tilting your head at him as a soft smile formed on your lips. "Me being clumsy and annoying?"

He chuckled, a sound that brought warmth to your heart, and the exhaustion was temporarily forgotten.

Rudy shook his head, and as he did, his smile faded and was replaced with something a little more sad. "Skin. The human body. Blood. The life force. I just miss it, I guess... I love what I do, don't get me wrong, but it can be a little boring at times.. It gets repetitive. The smiles are nice, the gratitude of those I treat, but sometimes I can't help but think about other things. More exciting things, y'know?"

"Suturing my arm is exciting to you? That's pretty weird, Rudy, and that's coming from me…"

You were only half-joking, and Rudy was aware. The man was silent for a moment, his gaze averted as his smile slowly returned.

A soft chuckle left him, and he leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms against his chest.

His eyes closed, and the smile on his face grew.

It wasn’t a sad smile, nor was it happy. It was a smile that said many things but nothing at all.

When his eyes finally opened, they were different. The smile was gone, and so was the warmth in his expression.

The smile he wore now was a familiar one, and the glint in his eyes was one you knew too well.

The box was moved back in front of him, and with a swift movement, the scissors and tweezers were in his hands.

Then, the conversation was over, and so was the waiting period. He did check to see if it was numb, but the moment you confirmed that it was, he went right back to work.

It was silent for the most part; you felt no pain, and Rudy was careful as he did his job. It was going by rather quickly, and with the silence that fell between the two of you, you couldn’t help but look down at your arm.

He was already halfway done. The numbing was working like a charm, and with how quickly Rudy was going, it was almost like a superpower. For a man not in his element, he seemed like he was pretty damn well in his element.

Maybe he did have a body hidden downstairs. Give him some practice.

Rudy stopped for a moment, the sudden pause causing you to lift your gaze and look at him. He was holding a new needle in his hand, a black string-like material in the other.

He was staring at your arm, the concentration on his face strong as he held the items up. It was a rather odd sight, and you couldn't help but lean closer to get a better look.

Rudy blinked, his focus snapping up at you, and he gave you a lopsided grin.

You watched him for a moment, the man simply staring back at you with the same grin, and after a moment of silence, he put the tools down.

"And, presto." He said, his grin widening, and before you knew it, he was packing up the box.

Damn, that was fast.

He wrapped the wound in an actual bandage, moving at the speed of light, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, Rudy was already finished.

The man got up, stretching out his back as he did, and he glanced down at you with a soft smile.

"I don’t keep any antibiotics around here, but a simple store trip can fix that. You don’t need anything fancy, just a simple infection control, and you should be good to go. It doesn't seem to be too bad, and if it gets any worse, then we can look into that later... at the ER."

"Right." You mumbled, not having the energy to protest. The sarcasm, the jokes, the humor... everything was gone. You were drained, and now that the whole ordeal was over, you felt yourself slouching against the chair.

You looked up at Rudy, and before you could speak, he was already talking.

"Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop you home tomorrow morning before I go in. I’m seconds away from passing out, and you look like you're about to fall over."

You nodded, a silent thank you falling from your lips. Rudy gave you a nod in response and then gestured towards the hallway.

It wasn’t too long after that you found yourself walking down the hallway with a spare pillow and blanket. The guest bedroom was empty, and when you entered, the lights were off.

You didn’t question it, and instead, you set the pillow and blanket on the bed and made yourself comfortable. He said he used this room a lot, but somehow, it looked so untouched. It wasn’t dusty, but the way the room was set up proved that it wasn't often used.

Still, you were far too exhausted to give it a second thought.

Rudy walked past the doorway, a pair of keys in his hands as he waved them around. You heard him mention something about locking up and going to sleep, and after he left, the hall was silent.

And then, after a few minutes, the house was silent.

As you lay there, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your arm was still numb, and you felt nothing as you gently placed your hand against the bandage.

There was no pain, no nothing. It was just ugly, and yet you were grateful.

You didn’t even know Rudy for that long. A mutual friend introduced you to one another, and ever since then, it has been a whirlwind of events.

Especially due to your overbearing clumsiness.

But tonight? What a true blessing.

You couldn’t thank him enough. Maybe you could make him breakfast in the morning. That sounded like a decent enough gift.

Unless you happened to break his kitchen or yourself, you’d have to see how things played out.

And with that, you rolled over, your eyes slowly drifting shut.

You were out within a minute. And fortunately for Rudy, so were his neighbors.

It was a rather quiet night, after all, and with his soundproof walls, no one could hear a thing.

Even with the preparation for the next present for his precious Ken, the perfect gift of appreciation, no one could hear the sounds of his true work.

Well, no one except you.

[@ghostheartbeat, @numetalnerd2007] Here’s your tag, besties! Go wild! ☺️☺️

I hope you guys liked the "realistic" approach I took here lmao. I felt really devious about this plot 😈

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a-french-coconut · 4 months

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Travis Stoll (Part 12)

In his life, Travis saw his father a total of two times.

At the winter solstice party and on Olympus after the battle of Manhattan.

Both times, it had been a particularly awkward conversation.

He expects this one to be the same.

"Hi dad, thank you for coming I guess ? You really didn't have to though, a pegasus or something would have sufficed."

He thinks he sees something akin to hurt flashing in Hermes' eyes.

It can't be, the guy can't think that after eighteen years of almost total absence, it would normal for him to pop up like that.

Silence hovers for two good minutes before Hermes finally remembers that a conversation is something that requires two willing participants.

"It's alright, I have a little time before going to work again."

No you don't

Yeah, Aphrodite wants her new fragrance right now boss

"Hey George and Martha, I don't any rats for you guys, sorry."

Two groans of disappointment echo in his head, making him chuckle.

"Tell Aphrodite to wait, I'm pressed with more urgent matters right now." Hermes orders to George and Martha.

"So, hum, are you going to teleport to Camp ? Or maybe give me a ride ?", He tentatively asks, not sure about why Hermes is still here.

"Yes, but I was hoping we could talk."

Talk ?

When time is flying and Connor is getting closer and closer to death ?

"Can't this wait ? Connor's life is literally a matter of time."

"Oh, don't worry, you'll make it in time," says Hermes dismissing his concerns, "I just want to have a nice conversation with you, a father to a son ?"

For the first time, Travis feels anger towards Hermes.

"Don't worry ? My brother is dying ! You have waited eighteen years, you can wait a couple of hours more !" He snaps, not caring at that moment that he is talking to a god.

"I'm your father and I-"

"No ! Don't call me that, you don't deserve it. Do you know how many times I prayed to you, asked you to help Connor and me ? I didn't need a big gesture, just a sign that you cared." His voice breaks, all the emotions he guarded for so long getting out all together, "You want to be father ? Bring me to Connor now and I'll talk with you all the time you want after. Just...just let me make sure he's safe first. I can't lose him."

He's feeling raw, vulnerable and he's pretty sure he's going to get blasted for screaming at a god, basically calling him an atrocious father.

He braces himself for what awaits him, maybe he'll get turned to a rabbit. No, not a rabbit, too fast, but a slug. Now that's a good punishment, he'll be a disgusting slimy creature until some toddler decides to step on him out of pure curiosity.

He is not ready for his father's arms surrounding him, for the warmth he emits.

With an absent father and an alcoholic mother, there hasn't been real parental figures for Travis. He has never known a mother's protecting and kind embrace, a dad throwing him on his shoulder, walking with him head upside down and laughing.

He thought that he didn't need that, how could he missed something he never knew ?

When he hugs back his father fiercely, not caring of the tears wetting his father's postman uniform, he realises how much he had been craving it.

"I'm, hum, sorry about that," he sniffles, "I shouldn't blown like that, I don't know what happened but-"

"I'm the one who should apologise, Travis." Hermes cuts him off, looking at him with sadness.

"You are right, I have no right to call myself your father, I have done nothing to deserve it. I will bring you to Connor but I want you to know this." Hermes looks right into his eyes, "You have become an incredible demigod, a true son of mine and I couldn't be more proud than the way you care for your family, Travis."

"Thanks, dad." He answers with a strangled voice, "We'll talk with Connor once he's safe and sound right ?"

"Oh, absolutely. You're not the only Stoll to deserve a hug." His father jokes, a little smile gracing his features.

"I don't think Aphrodite is going to like that."

"I'll give her a discount, she'll be fine. Now come on, close your eyes."

Hermes begins glowing and Travis dutifully closes his eyes.

Of course Hermes is big softie for his children (:

But you know, he's still a god, nothing like a good reality check to show him that he deserves worst dad award.

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #connor stoll #travis stoll #hermes

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dairy-farmer · 10 months

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Can you please add this au here? Or update a03?

brutim| au where tim never became robin and one day bruce was feeling more pathetic than usual and decided to take a drive past jason's old school. he spots little dark haired and blue eyed timmy drake waiting at the bus stop while it's pouring rain, looking like a drowned rat.

sure! i don't mind! since twitter has made it so people can't view tweets or lurk without an account and i know that it can be quite a hassle for people to make another social media account and twitter has made it harder for people to interact with media. as for ao3 i really prefer to reserve it for more edited, complete works.

_________________

there's no other cars and bruce knows the bus won't come come for another hour...

bruce's first introduction to tim drake is pulling to the curb, lowering his window, and offering a ride home to this wet child who happily accepts.

maybe bruce should've have been concerned.

lectured this child about stranger danger and about how bruce could've been a creep wanting to prey on him.

instead bruce is pulled in by this young thing who gushes about how grateful he is and about how good and kind mr. wayne is and...bruce. bruce has been having a hard time.

mood swings, self hatred, feelings of worthlessness.

it's...nice to have a break from the voice in his head telling him what a piece of shit he is, how stupid, pathetic, and weak he is. how he's disgusting and everyone hates him, how he can never protect the things that matter.

tim drake is sweet and small and his voice is so kind. like an angel's. and he tells bruce about how wonderful and great he is, how he's tim's hero!

it seems a bit excessive for just offering a ride home in a nice warm car safe from the rain. but...bruce isn't in a good place.

bruce feels horrible and he's been living in a pit of despair for so long and little timothy drake is..so nice.

he doesn't scream abuse at him like his brain and dick do. he doesn't remain so deathly quiet like alfred. he doesn't look at him with wary eyes like the gordons.

there is no pity in his gaze like when he encounters other capes. he doesn't make bruce want to rip his skin off and yell at him to stop looking at him! stop making him feel like that! he doesn't like it!!

bruce is so inexplicably sad when he drops little timothy drake off.

timmy lives in a building containing multiple floors of penthouses near the financial district of gotham.

bruce watches him go, watches as he turns back and offers him another wave while dripping water in the lobby.

bruce feels light for a whole hour before the dark returns.

the next time the weather is bad (which in gotham is every week) bruce drives past the school again. and there little timothy is again.

he must recognize bruce's car because he lights up immediately. despite only meeting one time before, bruce feels similar feelings spark.

it becomes habit to drive past the school and pick up sweet timothy. bruce starts driving past even when the weather isn't bad.

bruce knows he shouldn't. he's a stranger. he's never even met tim's parents. but he knows they wouldn't be happy to learn that bruce, a grown man they don't know, had taken it upon himself to start driving their son home. some part of bruce justifies it. that if they were good and vigilant parents they'd be able to stop this from happening. if they'd instilled a healthy fear of the unknown in tim he would've never gotten into a car with someone he didn't know. he would've never gotten into a car with bruce who he spoke so heartbreaking kindly to.

who treated bruce more softly than bruce had ever treated himself. who cupped bruce's cheeks and whispered to bruce about how good and wonderful he was.

who broke bruce down and let him sob and cry into his shoulder as he rutted into a pink little pussy. sweet timmy let bruce spill his grief all the way inside him.

the orgasms helped shield bruce's mind from the dark cloud hanging over him and allowed him to enjoy tim's soft hands and sweet whispers about how bruce was so good and loving and how bruce was not a bad person how he had so much heart.

every day bruce picked little timothy drake up and every day bruce drove them to a different deserted location and crawled into the backseat where his tim would follow him. he'd pull off the sweater vest from his school uniform and unbutton his shirt to reveal little breasts, he'd roll up his skirt and lay on his back so bruce could crouch over him and mouth at his tits.

he would kiss bruce too.

his sweet candy flavored lipbalm arousing bruce more as they'd sloppily kiss because tim was young and still learning how. when bruce kissed others it was always rushed and frantic and racing the other person to get their clothes off.

with tim it was comforting. reassuring.

like a hug. bruce would press his body close and nearly sob with relief as tim's arms wrapped around him, stroking the back of his head and murmuring little comforts.

bruce rarely didn't cried when they had sex. when he worked open his belt, the button of his slacks, and fly.

when he pressed into tim's warm, wet, tight little hole that was just a little too small for someone his size.

they didn't fuck so much as bruce would press his cock inside as just another way to be closer to tim.

sometimes they'd lay there for hours. bruce aroused and hard.

tim softly hugging and kissing him, pecking away bruce's tears. occasionally tim would clench down on bruce and that would have bruce's hips arching and twitching in deeper.

bruce would cum eventually. not always from the little rutting they'd do when it was just too much.

sometimes the emotions spilling over in him just pushed him over the edge and he'd grind and grunt and spill into the vice of tim's eager cunt. tim's little pussy always swallowed all of bruce's load, body accepting every bit of bruce's grief and never letting it back out

so that it could hurt him again.

god bruce loved this little angel so much.

he made sure to make tim feel good, to find the pink little clit that would have tim huffing and panting and red cheeked and making confused little sounds because before he met bruce he hadn't known his body to be capable of feeling so good.

then the hot squirming of tim's insides around bruce's soft cock would arouse him again and the second time around bruce would push hinself up and fuck tim like the adult and equal that bruce knew he deserved to be.

this wasn't some child preying perversion that bruce was doing. tim was his mental and spiritual equal, bruce's partner even if his body may be young and he didn't wear a cape.

bruce fucked tim like an adult. fast and deep and hard. and tim took it.

his legs thrown over bruce's shoulder, soft whines muffled from bruce's kisses as bruce fucked him until the head of his cock slammed into a little cervix.

the first time they'd had sex like this it had been too much and tim had stayed home from school with the 'tummy ache'

bruce had given him. the next time was better so was the one after that until tim's little pink cunt let out nothing but thick wet sounds at every slam of bruce's cock into him.

bruce would bite down on his lower lip, breathe thickly through his nose as he focused on chasing the spine tingling orgasm that was so close bruce could almost taste it.

it had taken awhile and with a lot of help he'd met from a little angel in the rain. but slowly...bruce got...better. the yells from those voice died down, the blame and vitriol they carried faded away.

until all bruce was left with was a soft, breathless voice telling him how good and loving bruce was. how he was so good, so good, so good.

and eventually bruce believed it. that he wasn't bad. he was good.

he was so good.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #brutim

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pinetreeairfreshener · 3 years

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Anton Zakharov in the London 2012 Mens 10m dive prelim

#some of these divers are well pretty #sad that the only time they don't look like wet rats is just before they dive so their arms look goofy #anton zakharov #london 2012

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servicetopkaradanvers · 3 years

Note

I'm not sure if this is exactly the right place to say this, but I don't know if there is. And you're a smart person and critical thinker who has talked about this before. If this is totally weird, you can just delete it ofc. I've never properly watched Supergirl but I started reading fanfic around the time my mental health got real bad so it was a comfort thing I didn't bring too much thought to. I really identify with Lena and in the past, part of me has understood her actions-

and I know that they're wrong. The anti-alien rhetoric is obviously an allegory for racism or homophobia. She's violated people's basic human rights. And I'm scared that I'm a bad person because sometimes, I kind of get it. Which is insane because i'm a lesbian enby of color, i mean i get targeted by most of the -ist/ism actions. And I'm also too tired to think about things critically all the time. Supercorp was my comfort fic, content thing-

I knew it was problematic (the whole James thing makes me sick to my stomach, scared and sad) but I didn't know that Lena as a character was written that way. The metaphors never really clicked in my head because I never thought about it, but now I feel absolutely horrible about myself because I like and identify with Lena. I'm not really sure how to move on from here- I'm just tired. I wish there could be just one thing, one piece of media that wasn't prejudiced (granted sg is not the place to go if you want decent rep and the like) and all of those things I said earlier. Its just me somehow trying to justify how I felt and empathized with something I shouldn't have. So yeah, sorry that was really long. I hope you have a lovely day- sorry for the spam

FIRST of all, you’re fine, babe! Both in sending me this and in enjoying The Bad Media. That’s my thesis here: You’re fine. With this in mind, let’s unpack this big ol suitcase:

We’re living in a fandom moment where more than ever before, we’re thinking about the ideas we consume in fiction and how they may or may not affect us. This is a net positive! Fiction is not reality, but it undeniably impacts it, so for this and many other reasons, we should always think critically about what resonates with us and why. Does this mean dissecting every facet of something to find all the ways it might fall in line with oppressive power structures? Absolutely not.

You, as an individual, do not owe anyone an explanation for why you enjoy anything. Period. How you relate to a given character or why you like them is nobody's business but your own.

Supergirl, as a piece of media, is singularly awful in its lackluster lipservice to progressivism while simultaneously refusing to deliver any progressive themes. Socially and politically, it is a useless liberal wet dream. Kara is an immigrant from a dead culture working as the muscle for a secret FBI offshoot with zero accountability for all of the other aliens in diaspora she has rounded up and dumped into a cell without trial. Alex is allegedly a lesbian, but the key points of her endgame relationship are constantly deemed not important enough to get screen time, which is made even more absurd when examined from the angle that this series is marketed directly toward LGBT people. An embarrassing percentage of villains on this show are women of color, which is particularly loud when there are only 2 women in the main cast who aren't white. And "main" is extremely generous, given that Kelly is just there to Give Advice Good and everything M'gann says and does is as dry as toast.

My point here is that the whole show is rotted to its roots, and whatever quietly libertarian or even fascism-enabling bullshit they push onto Lena in a given week is par for the crusty, shitty course. Kara deciding that she's ok with the alien detection device because "there are bad aliens" is a lovely (read: awful) microcosm of why this show sucks so fucking hard. "People are entitled to their opinions" is for debates on whether pineapple goes on pizza, not for whether we should casually out, endanger, and disenfranchise our [insert minority metaphor here] because some of them are mean.

But what I would love for this fandom to wrap its head around, and what I hope you understand, anon, is that just because it happens on the show, doesn't mean we have to give a rat's ass about it. What the hell is The Canon, anyway? Especially in the case for Supergirl, which can't even get its own continuity right. Especially for an IP that has been rebooted dozens of times before and will be rebooted again in the future. We can just decide that Lena realized the horrible injustices she enabled through her position of power. We can even decide that they just didn't happen at all! This is all fake. It's not set in stone. Who came up with it, anyway? A network with a list of buzzwords they want included and a couple of D-tier showrunners cranking down caffeine to meet an absurdly tight deadline. It's not special. I can guarantee that you care about it infinitely more than they do, and you haven't even watched the damn show.

On a more personal level, people who are hurt, depressed, or traumatized have always and will always look for themselves in fiction. Myself included! And despite what lofty platitudes there may be on the matter, suffering does not make us kind. It does not make us better. Sometimes it's just suffering. Often it pulls us further from who we are meant to be. Often it just makes us "worse."

Trauma has made Lena emotionally brittle. A lifetime of manipulation and abuse has taught her to compartmentalize herself and lock her feelings behind a maze of doors. When she does let love in, she accepts it so wild and vulnerable that she can't see the red flags behind the rosy lenses. She latches so hard onto people she deems virtuous that she holds them to a standard none could fulfill. Her pain has to go somewhere, so it oozes out of her, into Non Nocere, into the post-reveal rift. She's a powder keg, and Kara spent 4 years shoveling more gunpowder onto the pile while holding the match between her teeth.

And despite these fatal flaws that make perfect sense through the eyes of Lena's trauma, she is so full of love. Like Kara, her suffering did not make her kind. She is kind in spite of her suffering. These are the characters we are drawn to when we're hurting. Lena’s trauma is an inextricable part of her, but it is not all of her, and neither are her mistakes.

There truly is not and never will be a piece of media that is absolutely innocent of the harmful structures thrust upon us by society, because we ourselves also participate in that society whether we are critical of it or not, whether we strive to change it or not. I'm flawed. You're flawed. Bettering ourselves is not a journey toward an ultimate destination of perfection. It is a garden we nurture in an endless labor of love because the joy that comes from seeing it flourish and change vastly outweighs the work we put into it and the weeds popping up around its unkempt edges. This is a lesson Lena herself could probably stand to internalize. Probably with lots and lots of therapy. Lots. And lots.

So, to circle back to the start of this? You're fine. You recognized the logic in a traumatized character's mistakes because our own gravest errors more often than not stem from the ways we have been harmed in the past. It's what makes Lena (or, at the very least, the many adaptations of Lena that exist in this fandom) a good character. She is, to her core, characterized proof that a crumbling foundation and poisonous soil do not define us. Which is why watching her heal and grow and learn a healthier kind of love is so, so wonderful.

In closing, I think it's worth mentioning that being critical of media does not mean that we stop enjoying the parts of it we like. There is a lot of gold to be pulled from the steaming pile of shit that is CW Supergirl, and that's why we're all here in the first place. So I really hope you can continue to enjoy it in whatever way makes you smile <3

#Anonymous #lena

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xoxo-bunnydumpling · 2 years

Text

At the end of a hard weekend, Eli suggests we actually have falafel this time and Moses suggests we get out of the house.

"I'd have to take a shower and get dressed."

Eli's patience with me and understanding of my bullshit is limitless.

"Is that a thing you feel like you can do?" I stay crammed in the corner of the couch for another 20 minutes after saying yes. "Do you need help?"

I tell him no...and then he asks again, differently. "Well...I also could use a rinse so, two birds one shower?"

It feels a little ridiculous so be so sad you can't wash your own hair, but here we are. He's being comically blasted directly in the face to keep the spray off me (I'm also having a fibro flare and even running water hurts my skin at the moment) and I think of how often he's a buffer for anything painful that might come up. How since we met, he's taken just so many hits so I wouldn't have to, and usually I only find it out later. I am used to handling being blasted off the face of the earth by things, not very well, and alone. I'm used to not being asked how I am...the world can be rough with us at times but here he is, asking me if he's washing my hair too hard. Underneath my hair in my skull resides a wad of wet meat with years and years of bullshit buildup and if I let him, he'll wash that clean too.

Fortified by care, I think I can handle washing the rest of me. When I'm done I sit at the other end of the shower and watch him, not lustfully, just appreciatively. The v of his hips, the fairly new thickness of his thighs, and wish I had a quarter to bounce off dat ass, okay...it might have been a little lustful. I feel like a chunky drowned rat in the bath with a Greek god a little bit. Can't blame a rat for staring. He smiles at me.

"You okay over there? See something you like, miss?"

"You're a little bit hot, ya know."

He blushes. "Just a little? Well then, I've got work to do." I tell him I think he used to be smaller, and he looks down at his junk and squints. "I don't think that's how it works."

He's not trying to make me laugh but he does. The laughing turns into crying, and blabbering, forcing out everything that has been bothering me that I just couldn't say before. He turns the water down and sits, being only lightly sprinkled rather than assaulted by the spray now.

Bless this point of contact water heater he bought and installed, it allows us to stay here until Moses knocks on the door before letting himself in...we forgot to bring towels with us.

"Would you like to squeeze in?" Eli asks him, but he sits on the floor instead.

"No thank you, water hog. I learned my lesson last time." Moses opens the curtain on my end, armed with a brush. "What do you think, my love? Will you allow me the honor of detangling you?"

I angle myself to rest my head at the edge, letting my hair fall over the side so he can get at it and ask him if he's changed his stance on me being spoiled.

He laughs. "Oh, I meant for Teddy not to do it. It's fine if I do."

Going back to my seat from the bathroom at the restaurant, a lady stopped me and told me my limp was cute. I know her from somewhere but I can't place it.

"Get your new hip yet?"

I don't know what it is about older folks and talking about medicine and surgeries all the time, but here we go.

"No ma'am, I haven't."

"Better get on it."

"Yes, ma'am."

I have so many conversations like that with people I know, but not really...and when I come back to the table and Eli asks me who she is, I don't want to admit I don't remember so I say "she's me, FROM THE FUTURE!"

Moses laughs and wiggles his fingers with me...the international sign for something ooky and spooky.

Eli sets his wine glass down and smiles at us like he just likes us a whole bunch. "You have any good advice for yourself? Perhaps some winning lotto numbers?"

"No numbers, just advice."

"Please..."

I toe my shoe off and run my foot up his leg, exaggerating my wink as much as I possibly can until he leans back, laughing.

" 'Better get on it' ."

#hot librarian chronicles #husband material #holy moses #falafel #depression #grief #anxiety disorder #long weekend

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incoherentbabblings · 3 years

Note

5 + 48? Separate or in the same I don't mind, just like your writing.

Thank you for the ask! I went for fluff this time!

Birthday Ask Game!

5. “Don’t you love me?” + 48. “Why are you crying?”

It was risky, Tim knew. Steph didn’t take well to surprises, and she did not take well to being the centre of attention. Even when it was just her and Tim, gifts always were fifty-fifty in how they were received. She was never rude about anything he bought her, but he could tell when she was uncomfortable. Squirming with a smile that was more pain than joy, trying not to let her self-hatred win out over the fact that, uncomprehendingly, someone thought she was worth the effort of gift giving. She always reacted much more kindly to homemade gifts. Sentimentality.

It was the fifth year of them meeting. Tim thought he was off to a good start, even remembering such a date. Most men would not remember the day, month and even year of when they met their partner, Tim was sure. Stephanie had been living with him for pushing six months, and slowly her clothes, knick-knacks and furniture moved over. So had her stuffed toys. She had a somewhat sizable collection, though whenever Tim had asked her about it, her face had frozen somewhat.

“My dad used to buy me them,” she’d say, gaze turning resentful at the stuffed elephants and bears and cats and dogs. “With what money? I don’t know. Good times and bad. He’d never just give me the toy. He’d always make me beg for it. Which, when your five, yeah, it’s cute. Don’t you love me Steph? Say yes and you’ll get Mr. Brown. That kind of stuff. Less cute looking back.”

“Bartering affection,” Tim had said, voice distant in his empathy. He understood. Of course he did.

Stephanie had nodded, lips pressed together. “That’s why this one’s my fave.”

She’d reached across the room, pulling a leg out from under the pile of toys. “I keep them to spite him. But this one. This one mom got me.”

The most well-loved bear Tim had ever seen was passed over. Its fur was ratted, half melted as if accidentally left for too long on a heater or stovetop. One eye was barely hanging on, the glue only holding one edge down to the plastic fur. Its limbs were sadly deflated, and its head hung like its neck head had been broken. It was soft to the touch though. All things considered. Tim had looked at his girlfriend quizzically.

She’d sighed, fussing with the bear in Tim’s hands, ensuring it was being held correctly. “Dad had gone to jail. Again. We’d driven away from the courthouse, mom had looked so tired, so sad, and angry. She gave this huge sigh, I remember it in the backseat, then done a U-turn back down the road. She took me to some fancy toy shop in town and told me I could get one bear. Whatever I wanted. I don’t know how she afforded it. I’d never got to choose before. And I picked that one.” She’d smiled sweetly. “Only one she’s ever gotten me, but she said to me that… that it was her gift to me. Her apology. Her promise. She let so much wrong happen to me… but this was the first step. The first moment I thought…”

“It wouldn’t be that bad forever.”

“Right,” and her smile had wobbled, “and I was right. Poor thing has seen some shit, but it’s okay. Sustained through love.”

It was why, one week later, she had come to him, panicked.

“She’s missing,” she’d breathed, rushing around Tim and hunting. She’d thrown pillows across the living room, lifted furniture, rummaged through cupboards, even checked the washing machine.

“Who?” Tim had asked, sipping on his drink.

“Bagel Bear!”

Tim spat out his drink.

“Who?”

“My… Nevermind.” She’d flushed white, then left Tim choking on hot liquid. She’d been mopey the whole week, even patrol couldn’t lift her spirits. She was mourning the poor thing like it was a beloved family pet that had died.

It was why, Tim thought, his gift was risky. He wrapped his hand over her eyes on Friday night, a large cardboard box balancing precariously behind his back in his other hand.

“Guess who?”

“Conner!” she gasped joyfully. Sarcastically.

“Oh, screw you,” Tim grumbled when she burst out laughing. He planted himself next to her on the sofa and held out his gift. “Happy anniversary.”

“Huh?” She looked warily at the box, but dutifully took it.

“Been five years since the brick,” he said proudly.

“Oh! You didn’t need to.”

“You always say that.”

“Because I mean it. I didn’t remember. Still, thank you.”

Tim shifted, wound up and excited. “You haven’t even opened it.”

She held up her hands in deference, then slipped off the ribbon and took off the lid.

She froze, staring at the bear in box – the bear that Tim had taken to be restuffed and repaired to the best of the shop’s ability – and burst into tears.

The risk had not paid off, clearly.

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey, what, no! Why are you crying?”

“You had her fixed?” she sniffed, pressing the bear's tummy up to her nose, inhaling the smell of comfort.

“The way you spoke about him, she deserved a little tlc right?”

She nodded, eyes still hidden from Tim’s view, and loudly wept.

“Thank you!”

Tim suddenly had an armful of Stephanie Brown to hold, her own hands tightly wrapped around his shoulders and chest.

“You’re welcome,” he said simply. “I’m glad you like it.”

She played with the bear’s shiny black nose, smiling. “Lucky girl,” she whispered. To herself, or to the bear, Tim didn’t know. He kissed her forehead, and she jolted as a sudden thought came to her.

“I’ll need to show my mom!”

She scrambled off the sofa, grasping for her phone, video calling her mother, cheeks wet and eyes red. Tim watched, unable to stop himself from grinning. Stephanie held the bear up to her face, so that when Crystal answered, the first thing she would see was the fixed stuffed toy.

Crystal dutifully answered, then suddenly, there was the sound of two wailing Browns in the apartment.

#dc #timsteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #my fic tag

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

CREEP

Prompt: Based of the song Creep by Radiohead

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Jon Moxley x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, angst

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @marlananicole , @sassymox , @bellalutionn , @yungbludjazz360

Notes: I am completely in love with this 🥺❤️ If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world

I wish I was special

You're so fuckin' special

“That’s what I am to her: a fucking creep! It’s pretty pathetic actually... Once upon a time I was a bad boy and a heartbreaker, and now, I’m just a bad boy with a broken heart” I scoffed, taking a sip of my whiskey

“It must be the end of the world” Josh, the bartender (and my best friend) said “Jon Moxley whining over the loss of a piece of ass” He cackled

“Hey! Don’t fucking talk about her like that! She’s not just a piece of ass, she’s the woman of my dreams!” I pretended to cough, so I could muffle my incoming sobs and hide the tears threatening to run down my face

“It’s ok, Mox. Go on man, let it out” He patted my shoulder “Even I cried when Jenny said she was going to file for divorce. I understand you, bro”

“I’m not crying” I dried my wet cheeks

But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't belong here

“Do you think she was too perfect for me, Josh?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean... why did she accept his proposal and not mine?” I asked, confused

“Did you propose to her?” Josh frowned

“No, but I love her! I can even see myself wearing one of those stupid suits for her” My mind flooded with memories “On the rare occasion I was obligated to wear one, she always said that ‘I was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen!’ “ I laughed “And I answered ‘I see you don’t get out much, then’ and she always got so mad!” I smirked “Said I had no idea how special I was…” A bitter taste suddenly took over my tongue “Yeah, ‘special’, so fucking ‘special’ she left me for that asshole!” I gulped the last bit of whiskey, and told Josh to fill my glass up again

I don't care if it hurts

I wanna have control

I want a perfect body

I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice

When I'm not around

So fuckin' special

I wish I was special

“Truth be told, Mox, you never made that much effort to let her know how you felt”

“Did I need to? Fuck, I was so into her that EVERYBODY mocked me! Even you, jackass”

Josh laughed loudly, before saying “Yeah, but that’s no reassurance for anyone, man! You left her waiting in your apartment while you came here with the other wrestlers to celebrate whenever you won a match, you let ring rats touch you when she was looking-“

“I NEVER cheated on her! I could never do that to her!” I interrupted him

“And still, you ‘loved her’ so much-“

“LOVE, not loved” I corrected

“Yet she came here so many times, sat in that very same stool you’re on, drank on that same glass you’re drinking right now and asked ‘what was she doing wrong that you hated to be with her?’ “

“What? What are you talking about?” I stared at him in shock

“While you were out in one of your ‘after match parties’, Y/N used to come here, when the thoughts of what you were doing with other women became unbearable for her to deal with alone. She drank, cried, begged me to help her. And the only answer I could give to her was ‘That’s just Mox, being Mox, sweetheart’ “ He sighed “And she said that one day she was going to get tired of it….and so she did” Josh turned around and began to wash the dirty glasses

But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't belong here

My eyes were already incredibly puffy from my non stop crying. I had lost count of how many drinks, cigarettes, sleepless nights I’d had...I felt like I’ve been crying forever. It’s so ridiculous…

I was at the balcony, staring out at the cold night sky, and taking one last drag of my cigarette, when suddenly, I saw a woman wandering down the street.

She appeared so sad, lost and looked as if she had been crying for a while. I don’t know what took over me, but I rushed down the fire escape stairs, barefoot and no shirt as I made my way to the street

“Hey, miss? Are you ok?” I asked, touching her shoulder lightly

She turned around and my heart stopped

She's running out the door (run)

She's running out

She run, run, run, run,

Run…

“Y/N?” I smiled in disbelief, and she just stared at me

“Baby? It’s me, it’s Jon. Are you ok? What happened?” I frowned when she didn’t answer. She was also barefoot, wearing only her old Aerosmith shirt and a pair of pajama pants

“Y/N?” I called, but she continued to be quiet

“Kitten?” I tried her pet name and she finally looked at me

“Jon?” She asked, uncertain

“Yes, baby” I smiled “It’s me. What are you doing out-“ She cut me off with a tight hug, and began to sob uncontrollably

“Hey, it’s ok. You’re ok. Shhh” I cooed “Let’s go upstairs” I kissed her hair “C’mon, cherry. You’re freezing!”

Whatever makes you happy

Whatever you want

You're so fuckin' special

I wish I was special

But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't belong here

“Can you tell me what happened?” I asked her, as calmly as I could

“I can’t be with him, Jon...I just can’t”

She had so much pain in her voice that I had to ask

“Did he do something to you? Put his hands on you? Touch you without consent? Go out with some other chick?”

She shook her head “No, he’s not like that”

I sighed in relief. *Good, because if he was, he would be a dead man!* I thought to myself

“What is it then, kitten?”

“That” She points at me “That’s the problem! The words, the touch...it’s not the same! He’s not what I want, not what I need” She sobbed

“Y/N, what-“

“I can’t marry him! I canceled my wedding three days ago because of you! It’s all your fault!” She stood up from the couch and began to hit me anywhere she could reach, and I let her

“Your fucking fault!” Her punches started to get weaker and weaker, until she was struggling to catch her breath

“Why can’t I hate you? I want to! But I can’t” She looked up at me, with tears in her eyes “What have you done to me?” She whispered

“I have loved you, kitten” I held her face in the palms of my hands “I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you” I kissed her forehead “And I will love you until I stop breathing” I kissed her lips like it was the last time I would ever see her.

Even though I hoped it wasn’t …

If you’re comfortable with it, please let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

#jon moxley imagine #jon moxley x reader #jon moxley fanfiction #jon moxley one shot #jon moxley #aew wrestling #aew imagine #aew #aew fanfiction #aew one shot #masochist writes #Spotify

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denisn4te · 4 years

Text

Obey Me characters and their assigned dogs!

Okay, guys, I have a cool idea! What if like as an assignment, Diavolo decided to give everyone a dog from the human world to see how well dogs from the human world could get with demons and the students were allowed to choose which dog breed they'd want it to be. The assignment was to be for a few months long.

Here are my thoughts on which dog breeds they had been assigned and how well they raised them.

~•~☆~•~

Lucifer-Doberman

At first, he wanted to just use Cerberus as his dog, but it had to be a dog breed from the human world.

Obviously, he chose a big and very intimidating dog.

He received a male dog and named him Damien.

Lucifer already knew the basics of raising a dog since he is the owner of Cerberus and all.

Within the first month, Lucifer began training Damien.

By the end of that month, Damien was probably the best guard dog in the entire Devildom.

Despite being a big and scary dog, Damien was actually a big sweetheart!

He'd always follows Lucifer around and get sad when his owner wasn't around. He especially loves doing tricks for treats.

Damien is only aggressive he senses harm coming towards him or Lucifer or when he is ordered to attack.

By attack, he just chases the brothers whenever they make Lucifer mad.

When the assignment was over and the dogs were to be brought back to the human world, Lucifer immediately locked himself in his room and cranked that record player volume to 100 all while claiming he wasn't sad.

Mammon-Italian Greyhound

Tried to sell the dog not even one days after getting it

Mammon didn't know crap about human world dog breeds so he just picked a random breed not knowing anything about it. His immediate thought was 'is this a rat?'

Mammon had received a female dog and named her Jade after Lucifer caught him trying to sell her.

At first, he wanted nothing to do with Jade until out of literally nowhere she had brought him a couple of Grimm.

Suddenly he was very interested after realizing Jade had a strange habit of finding and digging up valuables. From Grimm and small jewelry to literally buried artifacts.

Nobody knows how she does it and it's concerning that they had put her in Mammon's care.

Mammon immediately started to teach Jade how to do cute tricks to random people for treats and such.

Jade was also a very energetic dog always running around and barking at almost everyone except Mammon, MC, and MC's assigned dog.

Jade loves playing with the other dogs even if it's clear that they don't want to play.

Mammon was absolutely sobbing when Jade had to go back to the human world and absolutely didn't want to let her go.

He wasn't okay for a very long time after that.

Leviathan-Newfoundland

Just like Mammon, Leviathan didn't want to do anything with a dog until he realized some dogs were specialized in swimming.

Him being very associated with the ocean was suddenly interested when he heard about the breed Newfoundland. He thought the name sounded cool and picked that in.

Probably should have done more research because he didn't realize how huge this breed was.

He received a female dog and named her Henry 4.0

Leviathan didn't know anything about dogs and boy was it so hard for him at first.

Probably had to learn by watching animes, reading mangas, and playing games about dogs NINTENDOGS.

Actually got pretty used to having a dog really quickly and enjoyed it too.

Henry 4.0 was a really chill girl and likes sleeping on top of Leviathan. Just casually crushing the boy y' know.

She really likes laying with him while he's watching anime and playing his video games.

Their favorite activities to do are taking baths, going out to swim in the nearby river, and cosplay!

Yes, you heard that right! Cosplaying is a thing they did quite often and they always dressed up as duo characters. Of course Leviathan made the cosplays from scratch.

One good thing that this assignment did was getting Leviathan out of his room for when he would take Henry 4.0 out for walks.

Whenever Leviathan got sad he'd just hug Henry 4.0 and put his head into her fur. Henry 4.0 became kind of like an emotional support animal for him.

Leviathan absolutely refused to let them take Henry 4.0 away when the assignment was over. He even tried to hide her and threatened to summon Lotan again (which he did end up doing!)

Was very much not okay after the assignment was over.

Satan-Basenji

Satan is clearly the most educated on human world dog breeds and even though he very much prefers cats over dogs, he always did like the Basenji breed.

They are known as the 'barkless' dog and even have a somewhat reputation for acting like cats.

Satan had received a male dog and named him Benjamin.

Once the assignment began he quickly began to read books about dogs.

Satan actually surprisingly liked Benjamin rather quickly despite not liking dogs all that much.

They mostly just sat down together in the library while Satan read books and Benjamin would nap.

Benjamin was a pretty active dog and liked to play with the other dogs every now and then.

But just like Satan, he got mad a lot. Whenever someone got into his personal space while he was tired he wouldn't bark at them, but he had a pretty spooky growl.

Other than that Benjamin is actually really chill.

Satan also taught Benjamin a few tricks which may or may not be targeted at Lucifer and his assigned dog, Damien.

The number of times Benjamin was seen running away from Damien and/or Lucifer with Lucifer's paperwork in his mouth was pretty impressive.

One surprise was that Benjamin and Damien got super well with each ther much to Lucifer and Satan's dismay.

Besides the antagonizing Lucifer tricks, Benjamin didn't really know any tricks other than to sit and fetch.

Just like the other brothers he was truly sad to see Benjamin go and had one last trick to play on Lucifer before the assignment ended.

Asmodeus-Samoyed

A lot of people were expecting Asmodeus to get a small dog, but he really said no❤

He already knew about all the most beautiful dog breeds from the human world and the Samoyed was absolutely elegant.

He had received a female dog and named her Opal.

He already followed a few dog pages on the internet so he had a few basics down.

You already know he's one of those absolutely extra dog owners and honestly good for both him and Opal.

He loves taking her baths and always makes sure the dog products he uses are the absolute best.

Asmodeus even bought her a gemstone collar and I'm not talking about those leather collars with those flat little slabs, I'm talking about these kinds of collars

Yes, he's that extra and no he's not ashamed.

Opal had to be the most spoiled dog in the Devildom by the end of it.

She didn't like to play all that much unless it was with Asmodeus or MC. Pretty people only.

She almost never growled ever and she would have to be really pissed if she ever did. For example, when Mammon accidentally spilled some wet dog food on her fur, she never forgave him.

As you already know, Opal got the best kind of food a dog could eat. Asmodeus being one for best self-care, he didn't want his beloved Opal eating low-grade kibble. Only the best for his little girl.

You already KNOW he dresses her up and takes her out to the club. Loves showing her off to the fans. Likes dragging MC and their assigned dog along with them just to have fun.

Do not ever pet Opal unless you have clear permission from both her and Asmodeus and also clean your hands first. Opal's fur is too delicate and beautiful to get ruined.

Whenever Asmodeus gets drunk he always hugs Opal and cries into her fluff which she doesn't mind.

Asmodeus wouldn't stop posting pictures of him and Opal on social media and even after the assignment ended he still posted older pictures of her.

Couldn't hold back the tears after Opal went back to the human world after the assignment was over. He took her on one last spa day before the day the assignment was over and gave her the best meal.

Was crying on Devilgram Live later that day.

Beelzebub-Saint Bernard

A pretty obvious one. Just like Mammon, he knew nothing about human world dog breeds and chose a Saint Bernard because Satan suggested it.

Satan purposely suggested a big dog because if it were a small one, Beel would have eaten it.

He received a female dog and named her Biscuit. The alternatives were Big Mac and Burger, but Lucifer didn't allow it.

Ome thing these two had in common was a large appetite. Beel quickly got attached to Biscuit mostly because of that.

Beel has to be supervised while feeding Biscuit her dog food cause sometimes he'll try to eat some of her food.

Biscuit loves cuddles and is a big softie just like Beel. Though she seemed to be more of a dog for Belphie since she was always tired and sleeping.

Beel never minded though and always enjoyed walking into a room and seeing Biscuit laying with Belphie and Belphie's assigned dog.

Biscuit gets along with literally everyone including the other dogs. She always lets them do whatever just as long as they aren't harming anyone.

If you do harm her owner or his family she'll go from 0 to 101 in a second. Saint Bernards actually have a very powerful bite so it's best not to piss her off.

But out of her entire time in the Devildom with the brothers, MC, and the other assigned dogs she only really actually bit someone once and it was in self-defense.

Of this assignment had taken place during the whole Belphie attic incident, Biscuit would have been a huge emotional support animal to Beel.

If it didn't take place during that time then Beel would have loved her the same way.

Whenever he would try and work out, Biscuit would always lay on him and get in the way. She's too precious.

The only workout she wouldn't interrupt with cuteness is morning walks/runs.

One problem however is how much Beel would forget to brush her and she'd leave fur absolutely everywhere.

When the assignment was over he felt like he lost a part of himself.

He woke up the morning after looking for Biscuit to take her for their morning run and remembered that the assignment was over.

Still has her collar and leash.

Sad lad hours

Belphegor-Basset Hound

Belphie definitely was one of the brothers who didn't want to do anything with dogs and in fact, he didn't even choose a dog breed so they gave him a random one for the assignment.

Clearly whoever chose the breed for him knew their breeds well because Basset Hounds are some sleepy dogs.

He received a female dog and named her Floppy. Very creative I know.

To be honest, Belphie would be the most irresponsible of the brothers when it comes to raising a dog.

Usually, he had to be reminded a lot to care for this damn dog. Whether it's be reminded to feed her or take her on walks, he's just really lazy.

At first, he didn't like Floppy at all and thought she was ugly until Beel pointed out how much they sleep together.

It was true how much they slept together, wherever Belphie was sleeping, Floppy was either on top of him or next to him.

That's when Belphie actually began to care about her and trying to take better care of her.

He'd forget a lot of the times to do things, but he was trying.

Floppy didn't know any tricks or even bother to learn any. She didn't beg for food or play with the other dogs. She never growled or barked at all either.

Someone would literally be getting stabbed in front of her and she'd yawn.

Even though Floppy never liked getting along with the other dogs, she did like to nap with Beel's assigned dog, Biscuit.

Nobody else though. Not even MC or their assigned dog.

Floppy hated going on walks and any other activity that included having to put any effort into it.

She'd just let Belphie drag her across the ground by the leash.

Belphie was the least sad when the assignment was over. He does really miss Floppy, but he knew he wasn't the best dog owner and she deserves better.

He just wishes her well and hopes she finds a better family. Oh god, he's crying now-

~•~☆~•~

tl;dr: The brothers get dogs, get attached, then get really sad once the dogs are gone.

Oh lord, this took so much longer to make than I expected. Online classes haven't been nice to me. I was going to make some art for this, but this already took way longer than I expected so I'll probably save that for another time!

If anyone of you wants you can add to this by saying what your MC's assigned dog is! Anyways hope you all have a good day and maybe I'll even make a part 2 for the Undateables! ;)

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philicheesecake · 3 years

Text

Friend of Monsters (A UL Story)

Part 13/?

Collaboration with @noodle-slurp

Length: 3139 words

WARNINGS: Some chapters will include hard vore, soft vore, fatal and nonfatal vore, unwilling and willing. Read at your own risk.

Current chapter warnings: Gore, violence, implied torture

C- Their trip went mostly smoothly, though the day gradually passed, and dark storm clouds crossed the sky, blocking out the sun. The vampires that joined were now able to travel without the sting of sunlight. By the time they arrived by the school where the UL resided, it had already begun to rain, and wind whipped through the tree branches fiercely. Lightning flashed through the clouds and thunder shook the earth. Daki grumbled in annoyance, though there wasn't anything they could do about the rain.

Rhyka took the lead by the tree line, instructing assorted groups of monsters to flank the opposite sides of the school. She then turned to Daki, Sam, and Iro's companion, who introduced himself as Kole Krynne, and would be their partner during this raid. Daki had an idea Rhyka might have been setting them up with Kole just so he could keep an eye on them.

"Once we breach the entrance, you three will go inside to retrieve any captives within, understood?" Rhyka's tone spared no room for questions. Daki finally set Sam onto the ground, nodding.

H- "No idea what's goin on, but sounds good to me" Sam says with a soggy thumbs up, eyes alight with energy.

They were uncomfortably drenched and feeling adequately like a drowned rat, but, an excitement buzzed inside them....They were here. Against all odds, they were here, and they could save Lexie - and other creatures that might be locked up inside this hell hole! They shudder, both from the chill seeping into them - and from jittery eagerness.

They find it kinda funny that they're working with Mega Karen now. That wasn't something they had expected in their life time - but the past year has been full of surprises!

C- Rhyka narrowed her eyes. "Don't screw this up, human, or I'll kill you myself"

With that she turned and left with some of the others toward the back of the school. Iro remained at the front, then hurled a glowing spear at the entrance of the school. A booming explosion blasted the front doors open. With an enraged roar, he went running through the entrance. Legion members poured outside into the rain. Bullets fired. Iro crushed a stone within his fist, and a shockwave seemed to repel the bullets away from him. He took out a spear with his other hand and began impaling and slicing through the Legion members, clearing a path at the front of the building.

Kole nudged Daki with a low growl. "Our cue,"

He shrank down to his camp form and began running towards the entrance. Daki shrunk down as well and began to follow after him.

H- Sam snorts, "jokes on her because if I screw up, I'm pretty sure 50 other things will kill me first!" they say cheerily.

They aren't sure where this energy came from - maybe it was the static clinging to the air - or the eagerness to commit a prison break - they aren't sure.

They lag behind the two camoe'd giants, star struck by Iro's strength and the resulting light show. They only notice the two have moved when they look over to voice a question, "Do you think I could learn- Oh! We're going." They're almost sad to miss the action, but, they had their own role to play.

They half-jog half-limp to keep up with the two, their soaked shoes squelching loudly in the mud. Eugh it felt so weird to run in wet shoes - but, they had to focus! There was so much going on.

C- The path had been mostly cleared by Iro, while the groups to the sides and the back of the school were collecting most of the fire.

There were sounds of people screaming, shouting, and gunshots coming from the cafeteria. A couple of civilians fled into the halls, unarmed and terrified, before seeing Iro with his spear, and they turned, narrowly managing to flee out into the rain.

Daki sniffed the air once they were inside, then his brows furrowed. "I can smell a werewolf inside, but no giant, Sam. She might be gone."

"No use standing around here. That werewolf has to be freed from these motherfuckers anyways," Kole snarled, twitching towards the scent. "We have to keep moving."

H- Their heart drops at his words, but they try not to focus on that. There *were* others that needed freed. "Just..keep looking. She has short red-hair. Maybe we'll find her in the labs, or deeper inside...If you're ok going that far..." they voice uncertainly. "I'm sure there are others there, too."

C- "Alright, but we've got to hurry." Daki said uncertainly.

They ventured deeper within the school, throwing open various doors and looking inside. Some humans were hiding behind desks in terror, though they weren't Daki's target and he moved on.

Further down the hall, there was a stain of blood at the base of a door. Kole bashed the door open and they were immediately met with a foul stench of chemicals and dried blood. Two figures laid within, covered in blood. Lexie was tied to a chair alongside another man held captive. Both looked like they had gone through hell. All color had left Lexie's face, making the blood stand out even more. Her eyes were closed.

Strewn out around the room were shelves and jars of foul-smelling concoctions and chemicals. Bloodied knives, and collecting equipment laid out over a table to the side of the room, and blood-stained aprons hung up on hooks near them.

H- The smell hit Sam like a brick. THey threw their hand up to cover their nose and mouth, barely repressing a gag. It takes them a moment to recognize the figure in the chair.

Their eyes widen, and the blood drains from them, "Lexie!" they say, dropping their hand and rushing forward to try and rouse their friend.

C- At the same time, Daki went to untie the man while Kole sliced through the ropes binding Lexie with his un-camo'd claws.

Lexie let out a groan, slowly opening her eyes. She blearily focused on Sam. "Hrrrrhh... Sam...?" She drawled tiredly. "Youuu look likeee.... shit." She glanced at Kole. "W... dad? What happened to yo—yourrrr face."

She practically collapsed on her face once she was untied, not having enough strength to bother pulling herself to her feet. "Ughh... those ropes... bad ropes..."

Kole just looked confused at being called "dad", but quickly dismissed it as delirium and rushed towards the door to check their route out was clear.

Meanwhile, Daki was helping the werewolf to his feet. The first thing he did once he was standing was limp across the room to collect a hat and put it on his head.

H- Sam sniffled and let out a chuckle, "Pot calling the kettle black. We'll have to get you a mirror" they tease.

Truthfully, they feel like shit. Lexie looked awful and they were terrified their friend wasn't going to make it. "C'mon. Let's get you up nd out of this hell hole" They say, attempting to heft Lexie to her feet, offering their injured shoulder as support.

THey almost collapse on their own face, their leg pinching in protest to the movement and sending a shockwave of agony up their spine to meet with the one in their shoulder. They grit their teeth through the pain and force themselves to stand. They look over their shoulder, curious as to the safety of the other guy>

"Did you get hi-" they're interupted as they watch the man bother to drag himself over to get a hat....A. hat. Of all the priorities right now.

They raise a brow at him, baffled. "You uh, you got everything? Is there anyone else down here?" they ask him.

C- Lexie managed to get to her feet with Sam's help. She was dizzy from the action, and could barely stand. "Ohh is it raining outside? God I could use some water," she blearily glanced at Sam. "You're hurt..."

"Here, let me," Kole came to her side, helping with Sam's load there.

The werewolf looked to Sam at the question, using the wall to stabilize himself while wincing, seeming to steel himself from a nasty headache. "We're the only captives left alive to my knowledge," he replied. "But..." he grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. He paused as he seemed to tide over whatever was going on with him. "We need to move fast..."

Lexie glanced at him with concern. "Puppy?"

He nodded.

H- They frown. "I'm...sorry."

And they mean it, too. They almost feel like it's their fault - maybe it is...

No.

They grit their teeth. "Fuckin Legion." they spit with a snarl, feeling absolutely rabid. THey would have killed Lexie, too. They know it.

They take a breath and release it, sagging in relief at the knowledge they hadn't...SHe was alive...and so was the man, everyone had been released from this hell in some shape or form - Sam was just glad it wasn't in the form of death for the two survivors.

THey blink at Lexies words. "Puppy?"

They look over at the man. The remember them saying they smelled werewolf.

"Wait." they light up. "Are you a werewolf?"

C- "Yeah, he calls his wolf Puppy. Puppy's been pissed ever since we got captured," Lexie explained.

"What are you talking about, Puppy's *always* pissed," the werewolf let out a bitter chuckle, then flinched as a stab of pain shot through him. He grit his teeth, rubbing the side of his head, muttering something under his breath, likely trying to ease the annoyed wolf in his mind trying to break out.

"Coast is not clear. We have four Legion members in pursuit," Kole said, shutting the door and blocking it.

"We'll be ready for them," Daki said, drawing out a bloodied knife from the array of torture equipment.

H- "I mean, if the puppy wants to play, I don't know a better time than now" Sam sniggered, forgetting for a moment that they'd very much likely wind up on the list of things puppy would LOVE to maul. "There's already plenty of puppys above right now I bet."

They headbutt Lexie lightly, both as a way to show a form of affection - like a hug -, a reassurance, and an attempt to wake her a lil more.

"I know you just got out of it, but, do you mind sitting for a second while we deal with this?" they ask, eyeing a scalpel nearby.

C- Rubin cringed, shaking his head. "Believe me, you don't want to meet him. I don't want to have your death on my conscience."

Lexie did a sloppy salute at Sam, then slumped to the floor. "Do what ya gotta doo... I'll be here... napping."

Daki moved over to the door next to Kole. There was a pounding on the other side and Daki winced. "Ugh... great. I'm gonna open this on the count of three."

Kole gave him an incredulous glare.

"One, two,"

"Embyre this is stupid! Think first!" Kole pleaded.

Daki paused and sighed, glancing at the others. "Anyone got a better plan?"

H- Sam did a quick scan of the room as they let Lexie slip gently off them and to the floor. Their were lots of suspicious liquids for people to slip on...Not ideal that they can slip on it, too, but, eh, better than being shot. Lots of tools, chairs, a few tables...

"They don't know how many of us there are." Sam whispers, glancing for light sources. "You guys can see in the dark, right?" they ask, grabbing for the foul smelling jars and grimacing.

C- Kole seemed intrigued by this implied proposal. He thought it over, his eyes flicking toward the electric illuminating the room. "That could work. Stand close to Daki and flip the switch. I'll handle the two captives."

H- Did this door open inward or outward? They couldn't remember. THey open the jars and begin dumping them in front of the door. Euuuuugh. Disgusting, but it looked slick and perfect.

after they were done with that, they noisily flip the tables in a way that would make it seem like a barricade - but of course, they didn't intend to use the flimsy aluminum tables for such a thing. Finally, they took place by the lights - a sudden darkness would certainly be better than them walking into it.

"When the door opens...I'll flick it off. We'll need to be fast because they might just start shooting randomly. so attack low."

C- Daki raised a brow, impressed. "Not bad. I'll get the door on the count of three."

Rubin was in clear pain now, curling in on himself and covering his face, suppressing stifled growls in his throat. Kole nudged him. "Hey. Focus. We're doing this. Daki?"

Lexie scooted toward the side of the room behind Kole, patting Rubin on the back to try to reassure him. Daki took a deep breath. "Alright, you all ready?"

H- Sam nods, tensely focused as they ready their finger over the light switch. They're ready - though their eyes keep flicking to the werewolf, increasingly worried as his condition worsened. He looked like he was in a lot of pain. THey hope they hadn't worsened it...

C- Daki counted up, then on three, he swung the door open. The room was alit with booming gunfire. There was a shout of pain coming from Daki. Kole grabbed for Rubin and Lexie, dragging them out of the room as the humans slipped over the spilled concoctions and planted onto the floor. There was their opening. Daki stabbed one in the back and slit the next one's throat, then stumbled over their bodies to move outside. Blood splattered all over his shirt, though at first it was unclear whether it was his or the humans.

H- Sam stumbled out after them, using the struggling and dead Legion members bodies as stepping stones over the fluids.

They jog jankily to catch up with the giants, ignoring their pain the best they could. They stare hard at Daki, concern welling up in them - but now was not the time. They had to focus on getting out

C- Daki tried to shoulder off the pain, focusing on keeping moving. The hallway was mostly clear to their escape. Rubin stopped in his footing, stumbling to the ground with a pained hiss. Kole stopped to try to grab his hand, but Rubin batted it away, taking in wheezing breaths. "Alllright, yeah Puppy's coming. Just get out of here. I'll find you when I'm b-back," he grit his teeth, curling in on himself as a spike of pain shot though him.

"It'll be okay, Rubin. We'll find you," Lexie said, she looked to the others to continue.

H- Sam hesitated, not wanting to leave the man anywhere near here, but, also...they really didn't want any one to get hurt because of their insistences. So, they listen.

"Be safe." Uuuh, "I can take your hat for you?" They offer. It seemed important to him.

C- Rubin offered a weak smile and nodded, taking off his hat and handed it to Sam. "Please don't loose it,"

"Alright, enough pleasantries. Let's get the hell out of here," Kole said.

H- Sam takes the hat and nods to Kole.

They give one last concerned look to Rubin - then follow the others back toeards the stormy, scream filled night.

C- Not long after they left, there was a sound of a wolf's howl breaking through the cacophony of chaos.

The giants managed to get outside, with Kole helping support Lexie, and Daki at Sam's side. Once they just reached near the doors to outside, there was a boom of a gunshot that skidded past them. Kole yanked Lexie back to the hallway on the left, at the same time, Daki ducked to the right.

"Fuck." Kole cursed. "We might have to split up here. You take that side, we'll meet up with you at the forest clearing."

H- Sam doesn't like this idea, but the idea of them all being blasted as a group appealed to them even less. They nod in agreement, giving a concerned and longing look towards Lexie.

They want them to be safe...to heal...They want to hug them and boast about the rescue....They wanted so much...but there was no time for words.

With one final, "Be safe," they follow after Daki, though far slower than the giant.

C- "We'll be fine," Lexie offered a thumbs up. "Seeya soon,"

Then the two turned to leave down the opposite hallway while Daki headed in the opposite direction.

It was clear now that Daki had been injured back in the containment room. He was rasping heavily as he tried to move fast. Blood continued to stain his clothing. A wide tall window outside the school laid up ahead. Daki shifted into his larger form, gritting his teeth with pain, then smashed open the windows and climbed through into the rain. He crouched outside, waiting for Sam to make it through too, and also to catch his breath.

H- They follow after him, concern lacing their features.

"Daki..." they begin, shuddering as the cold rain soaked them once again. "A-are you going to be ok?" The thought of him not making it back made them feel sick.

C- Daki put a hand to his bleeding abdomen. "We'll worry about it after we're out of here. Come on."

The side of the school overlooked a steep mountainside that dipped into a ravine far off. The pouring rain ran like rivers and waterfalls straight down it. Each blast of thunder seemed to make the ground beneath them quake, shifting towards the ravine.

H- Unfortunately, that didnt stop them from worrying....

"I don't think this is a good direction. Maybe we should turn around ..."

They suggest shakily as they peered down at the ravine. Spooky. Scary. They felt like it was sucking them in. It unsettled them greatly.

C- "Yeah, no shit," Daki agreed. He flinched as a boom of thunder shook the earth— only it wasn't thunder. The ground seemed to cave in beneath them, collapsing in towards the ravine. "Shit shit," Daki lost his footing from the quaking earth and fell on his face. He scrambled, clawing for purchase on the higher ground, but all he met was mud between his fingers.

H- Sam, who had been standing nearby, scrabbles with him, mud and filth flooding their face as they flailed to grab a hold of Daki.

They manage to grab his shirt, and they cling for all their worth, squeezing their eyes shut and pressing against him tightly as the earth dragged them down into that terrifying chasm.

#tw blood #tw gore #unseen legion story #vore RP #vore story

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carlycmarathecat · 3 years

Text

Speechless

The opening sequence started with an abandoned warehouse, boards filling in the way inside mostly on the windows. There came moving noises and shouts from the inside and out popped our four favorite turtles one by one, Leo in the lead. The dust settled down slowly as they each tried to catch their breath. Eventually, came the half-hearted laughs.

"Okay...that was kinda fun back there." Leo piped up.

"Risky, but yeah, not bad for first-timer, Leo." Raph's arms crossed in pride. Mikey nodded in agreement and looked towards Donnie, already hunched over his wrist device tapping away.

"And you said I couldn't handle leadership." The red-eared slider smirked.

"W-What, I never said that?"

"Not out loud anyhow."

While the older brothers slightly bickered among themselves, the box turtle turned attention towards the middle child of the family. "Donnie? Yo, Donald." He reached to touch the other's shoulder. The softshell in question slightly seemed startled turning towards the baby brother. "Leo did a pretty good job leading us, didn't he? You didn't have that much doubt in him as you did from the start, right?"

Donnie gaped a little before pressing lips into a thin line, giving off a quick nod. He appeared a little pale all of a sudden.

It didn't get past Orange as he collected Purple's hands in his own, "Hey... what's up, bro? You act like you've seen a ghost so suddenly." His brow curved into one of worry, "You can tell us anything, you know?"

This caught the attention of the older brothers as they faced the two younger siblings. Donnie began opening and closing his jaw but hardly made any sounds, slowly reaching to feel his Adam's apple... something wasn't right.

'It feels like fire...why can't I say anything...??'

"Donnie- whoa!" Mikey yelped as the softshell launched forward, hand over mouth as one cough after the other poured their way out in a painful manner. Leo grew in panic, making his way over quickly.

"Mikey, the hell is going on...??"

"He-He won't say anything to me!" Mikey was getting a little scared, "I don't...think he can say anything."

Blue bit his lip hard, "You're not suggesting that...?" But he had to brush it off, for now, turning to his twin who was trying to collect his breathing, tears in his eyes from the coughing fit that kept building up. "Donnie! D-Donnie, just take it easy. Deep breathing, just breathe deeply and slowly, you hear?" The softshell did his best to follow said instructions. "That's it, just like you do with your panic attacks..."

"I'm gonna ring up Pops, maybe he can help!" Raph wasted no time in bringing out his phone to do so.

"Yeah, you do that!"

Donnie eventually got his breathing under control, but it still felt hot to the touch... it was making him dizzy. Leo calling out his name was the last thing he heard before passing out.

It could've been minutes or hours even, but Donatello slowly woke to find himself in the den laid on the couch. He felt something cool and wet around his throat, still felt warm from the inside regardless. He pushed himself into a sitting position...

"Hey, bro."

There was Leo, approaching him into a kneel beside his disaster twin. "Try not to talk right now, you'll end up with another coughing fit. Is there anything you need?"

Now that he mentioned it... Donnie did his best to gesture like he was drinking. Leo nodded in understanding, bringing up a glass of water, ice cubes bobbing about in it. The softshell took slow sips of the beverage and eventually looked towards the slider turtle silently asking;

Have they figured out the problem?

"Well...it should be obvious what the cause is." Leo tried to laugh but it faltered, "At least... that's what I'm hoping anyway..." He felt Donnie's hand slowly take a hold on his own and he squeezed in return. The snapper and box turtles made their way into the den.

"Ah, good. He's awake." Mikey sighed, relieved. "Now remember, Raph-"

"I know." Raph approached the other two, a somewhat frown in the genius's direction. "You've got a pretty bad habit of scaring us half to death, don't you?" Donnie pouted; was he really gonna do this now?

"But the problem's been figured out, right?" Leo wanted to know. Raph and Mikey took concerned noticed how the slider kept hold of the other's hand.

"...Right?"

"Uh, yeah, kinda." Mikey cleared his throat, "The way Draxum described it... that dust we dealt with has a bigger effect on some more than others from the looks of it. And those who have had it say it's like having a fever of 100 except it's within your neck. Just some soft foods and liquids, he should be good in no time."

This somewhat settled relief for Leo. Donnie, however, wasn't sure about not being able to speak for a long period of time.

"And we're all gonna pitch in and do our best to help you get better. The only difference being you won't be able to protest against us." Raph's little joke was answered with Donnie's elbow connecting with his ribcage. "Oof!"

Mikey giggled sadly, "Actions still speak louder than words, you know that, Raphie." Leo would've laughed too, he just felt too glum to follow through.

"It's okay, boys." Splinter entered the room, "I'll take it from here, you're all free to go now."

"Sure, pops."

"Yes, daddy."

The rat turned to the slider, "That means you too, Blue...Purple will be alright."

Leo wanted to protest, say anything but Donnie's hand upon his shoulder and a sad smile aimed at him... Blue sighed in understanding, getting up and slowly following after his other brothers. As Splinter changed the towel from Donnie's neck to replace it with a fresh one, he took fatherly notice how the twin kept his gaze where Leo had walked out.

"Try not to worry about him right now, my son. He'll be alright, you'll see."

Leo paced in the other room while Raph and Mikey were doing their own things to pass the time. How could he have been so stupid, so overconfident, just so... with a grunt of frustration, he grabbed a cushion and tossed it across to the other side.

Raph couldn't help taking notice, "It didn't really do anything to you, Leo..."

"You can say it." Leo frowned, "You both can just say it already, get it over with."

"Say what?"

The slider growled annoyed, "You know what I'm talking about, damn it! I'm the one responsible for what's happened to Donnie! He's like this cause of me! Who knows how long it'll be before he's up and chatting again, maybe to even rub it in what I could've done differently!" He paused to catch his breath after his vent.

"Look, Leo-"

"So what're you saying?" Mikey glanced from his comic, "You'd rather be the one with the hurt throat while Donnie's blaming himself instead?"

Leo's brow curved in concern, "What, no, I'm not saying that..."

"Hey, none of us knew the dust in that house would have that type of effect but we made it through as best as we could. We've at least made it out alive, right?"

His fists clenched tightly, "I know that... but I just..."

Mikey, now marking a spot in his comic, approached his older sibling in blue resting his hands on his shoulders. "Leo, I don't know if this will be any help, but... you shouldn't consider your mistakes as failures but as lessons instead." He smiled, "You at least have an idea what to do for next time we approach a situation like this, again, don't you?"

Leo bit his lip... and nodded. Raph joined in, "And like I said, we all pitch in, Donnie's gonna feel better in no time."

"...thanks guys." Leo embraced both his siblings in a group hug.

Mikey eventually broke away, "So... which one of us should take turns with Donnie first?"

Blue smiled, "I've already had my turn, you guys can decide among yourselves."

The next few days flew by faster than you could blink. Mikey helped out with whipping up soft recipes that Donatello could easily swallow, Raph assisted with telling some of his middle brother's fave stories (preferably ones that didn't involve too much magic). And as for Leo, he simply shared episodes of Jupiter Jim, some of them being Donnie's favorites too.

Purple was eventually able to speak again once the burning in his throat went away, but he and Leo didn't have to share an apology/forgiveness between them; it felt on that day after that mission, they already have both said their peace.

Pictures done by @jadethest0ne 💚

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo #donatello #michelangelo #raphael

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conaionaru · 4 years

Text

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Beginnings and endings

Synopsis: The naming ceremony and Silas’s punishment

Warnings: Murder, angst, fluff, gore

Tags:

@youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @didiintheblog @lol-haha-joke @shannygoatgruff @heavenly1927 @chynagirl13 @queenbeeta @thereareendlessopportunities @astridbaby

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. If you want to be tagged please write me<3

Vanya sat in the Great Hall next to Ivar in a new white dress, her hair loose around her shoulders. She observed the marks on the table, trailing her fingers over them. Everyone around her talked, too, focused on their plans of Silas's punishment to even notice her despair.

The man from her dreams, Hoenir, sat on her right, while Ivar sat on her left. Brynja and Margrethe run around their table, serving their meal. It has been two days since Vanya returned home. She got some deserved rest, but her mind was plagued with her worries.

They wouldn't let her see her son; sometimes, when everything grew quiet, she could hear him cry. It tore at her heart, but according to the healers, she was in no state to be near a newborn. During her time on the run, she caught a cold, her fever was high, and she felt like throwing up after every meal.

Listening to the Ragnarsson, Aslaug, Floki, and Helga argue about what to do with Silas wasn't what she yearned to do. "Are you alright, Vanya?" Brynja questioned her a soft hand on her shoulder, steadying the swaying princess. Vanya nodded tiredly and leaned against Ivar's shoulder.

The Viking entwined their hands together and kissed her damp temple.

He asked her to stay in bed, but Vanya knew she had to be there, no matter how much she hated it. She sentenced Silas to death; it's her duty to help choose the way he will die. "Let's burn him alive," Hvitserk suggested once again, causing his brothers to roll their eyes.

"Slit his throat, that's what he wanted to happen to Vanya." Sigurd countered, but the others disagreed again.

"Too kind, it must be more painful and drawn out." Ivar reminded them, his left hand in a tight fist while his right one squeezed Vanya's hand tighter, to remember that she is here.

Floki raised his cup and giggled in the mad way he always does. "Skin him alive." He offered but was shot down as well. Everyone kept suggesting different methods of execution, all rejected one by one. It was getting tiring for Vanya, draining her of the last bits of strength she regained.

"Maybe you should lay down, Vanya. You don't look so good." Ubbe softly told her, looking at her with tender eyes. She looked broken, her left hand wrapped in bandages to cover her cut. There was also a bandage on the cauterized wound on her shoulder. It would scar, which she didn't care about. Ivar was right; it was a sign of survival, a proof of her strength.

She shook her head and straightened in her seat to look healthier than she felt. "I can't sleep or rest anymore. I need to be here so Silas can be dealt with. He needs to die a painful death, I promised him that, and that's what will happen. No arrows or drowning or hanging. My brother needs to suffer as I suffered; at least I am sparing him the pain of not knowing if you will survive." She spat angrily, slumping back in her chair, exhausted. How pathetic was she? She couldn't even talk without getting tired.

She sighed and moved to stand up, Hoenir rising as well. The silent stranger followed her around like a shadow. He sat in front of her hut with his sword drawn, only letting family and Brynja in. The servant found his mysteriousness and silence charming, Vanya found it eerie. She yearned for human contact, not a silent wall lurking around. Ivar spent every waking moment by her side as well, always checking on her and touching her in some way. More for his sanity than her's.

He didn't check on their son either, too afraid to leave her alone. Vanya was thankful for his protectiveness; she missed it. But she yearned for her son as well, what if he was sick as well?

Vanya made her way towards their chambers and laid down to sleep with Ivar by her side, wrapped around her like a vice, but still somehow comforting. She could feel his chest fall and rise against her back, but sleep wouldn't take her. Her eyes were wide open, and her heartbeat frantically, on guard despite being safe. Nightmares plagued her rest nearly every night, dreams of drowning, freezing, or waking up to her son's corpse in her arms.

Everyone treated her like a broken toy, too scarred by what happened to her to be whole again. In the end, Silas had won. Nine months ago, he sent her here to wither and die. And now she looks half dead and feels hollow. With a shuttering breath, Vanya slowly crawled out of Ivar's arms and into the street, walking past Hoenir, who slept by the door. She shook him awake and made him follow her to the hut where Silas is held.

"Are you sure you want to see him?" The Silent wandered questioned her, but the ginger only nodded and ordered the guards to let her in.

The hut was lit with candles and smelled of wine and piss. Two aromas that Silas always despised, how fitting that it would be the last things he would know. "She lives." A voice rasped from a corner startling her.

With some difficulty and grunts, Silas rose from his hiding place behind the bed. He looked just as bad as her. Two days in a cell, and he was filthy, drunk, and pathetic. It suited him, pain, and despair. "You look terrible."

He chuckled and collapsed back into a chair, the furniture nearly topping over from the force. "I always imagined myself immortal. Forever alive and in people's minds. And here I am. Covered in piss, looking like some kitchen rat." He spat on the ground glaring at everything around him.

Vanya took his sorry state in, tucking it into the back of her mind to remember him by. Not the cruel King with a crown on his head, but as nothing better than a beggar with one foot in the grave. "You are human, just like everyone else. Everyone dies, Silas. Even Kings."

Silas scoffs and hurls his cup towards her, the guards and Hoenir barge in but stand back when Vanya raises a hand, palm facing Silas. "It's alright. Please leave." The three men leave brother and sister alone to talk. One last conversation before Silas pays for his crimes.

Her brother watches the display of power that Vanya possesses and reached towards the last piece of bread he had left. He tore at it like a savage, disgusting even himself. All his grace and power stripped away by his sister, how the tables have turned. "You mean Father, don't you?"

Vanya looked at him, puzzled, unaware of what he meant by the comment. But Silas didn't wait for her to question him, he pointed the finger at her and chuckled. "You always talked of that bastard. Alive or dead, you worshipped him, even though there was nothing special about him. You have no idea what kind of inconsiderate prick he was."

"Father was a good person, far better than you or me." Vanya insisted, not letting him insult their late father.

Silas sneered and threw a piece of bread at her, that she batted away before it hit her face. She frowned at his ridiculous behavior, fed up with his dramatics. "Of course, you would think that you were his favorite. You were the obedient child with big sad doe eyes. Do you know what I was? I was the embarrassment, the reject. I was three, and he called me a monster. All because I didn't follow his rules."

The ginger shook her head and walked closer to Silas. "Father loved you, but you were always so quick to start a fight. He tried to make you a good king, but you rejected him, and now here we are."

"Ah, yes, here we are. The Monster and the Gifted one." Silas swallowed the last piece of bread and spread his arms wide in a mocking gesture. He didn't love me, or you or anyone else. Osmond used people, you stupid wench! He married a girl half his age, filled her with seed, and when the child didn't meet his expectations, he threw them both away and fucked everything pretty. And then you were born, perfect little Vanya - the Gracious gift of God. You nodded along to everything and did as he said. Other than me, who had his own opinions."

Vanya scoffed and licked her dry lips to hold back the foul words on the tip of her tongue. "Father was a good King and a better parent than Mother. You spat, beat, and laughed at other children. You were always rotten, Silas. And Father knew it, so did Mother."

"I did it to get attention; no one would pay attention to the reject! Before you were born, I was the perfect firstborn. But not to him! To Father, I was the little monstrosity that refused to keep quiet about his affair. I was three and saw him fucking another woman. I told Mother, and he grew angry with me, by the time you were born, I was a bastard in their eyes. The one that destroyed their marriage, as if I was the one getting his dick wet behind my wife's back."

The princess stared at Silas in shock, Osmond always said that his son was born cruel. To think all of the cruelty, hate, and violence came from their parent's treatment. Siflaed was a neglectful mother, and it turns out Osmond was no better. Vanya always saw him as a smart man with good intentions, when in truth, he was nothing like that.

"He was a good King, true. But a terrible Father, husband, and person. Just like me." Silas smirked at his small victory, while Vanya frowned at him. "He treated you better because you were naive and gullible. All the talk of duty, putting the kingdom first and God. You were born to be a bargaining chip, just like Mother, married off to the highest bidder. Face it; there is no kindness in our blood."

"I am not you or them!" Vanya insisted, causing Silas to laugh.

"If that's what you like to believe."

Vanya slammed her hands against the table, startling Silas. She huffed and got in his face, her eyes as cold as ice. "You did horrible things to me and everyone around you. I am nothing like you."

"If you want to blame anyone, then blame Stithulf."

"Stithulf didn't order men to murder three people!" Vanya spat at him, remembering the blonde man who talked to her about Silas as a King. How charming he seemed, the two-faced bastard.

"He reminded me what a threat you and your child pose to my reign. He told me the only way to ensure my glory and throne was to kill anyone who wants to take it away. First you and your child, then Mother's brother Æthelric. He said I was meant to rule, that the world would remember me. And they will. These heathens of yours will kill me, probably torture as well. And the church will name me a martyr for my faith, and history will remember me as Silas the Great." Silas boasted, throwing his arms around and nearly falling out of his chair in the process.

Vanya shook her head and looked at the cross on his desk, the one he gifted her, their father's cross. "Only those who lived a righteous life can be names martyrs. You executed, hurt, and humiliated people. You are no saint, Silas, and the church won't care for your death. Terrible people don't go to heaven."

The older Saxon rose from the chair and leaned against the table, looking into his wine cup. "Then, I shall see you in Hell. That's where you heathen scum will all go. And we can burn side by side as we did in our cribs." He raised his cup and downed it in one go before letting it slip through his fingers and hit the ground. "Farewell, Sister."

He stumbled towards his bed and collapsed on it face first, his white shirt falling lower, exposing his shoulder blades. Vanya watched his naked back, she then turned on her heel and left the hut to return to her own. She made a decision. Yesterday Ivar explained to her all the ways Vikings executed people, and one seemed perfect to Vanya now.

Her husband sat up in their bed, looking at Vanya with tired eyes. "Where did you go? Are you hurt?"

"Blood eagle," Vanya answered, confusing Ivar further.

"What?"

She sighed and sat down next to him, looking into his eyes. "The way we should kill Silas. You should Blood Eagle him after the naming ceremony." She explained as Ivar nodded, still confused about the sudden decision.

Vanya closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling her shoulders get lighter. As if the weight on them dropped, making breathing easier than before. She opened her icy eyes again and stared into her husband's stormy hues. "What is it, Min elskede (My beloved)?"

She chuckled at the tender tone, having missed the endearment more than she thought was possible. "I was terrified out there, Ivar. I thought I would never see you or Kattegat ever again." Tears gathered in her eyes, her lips shaking from the oncoming sobs.

Ivar cupped her cheek and wiped her tear away with his thumb. "You are here now. And nobody will ever take you away from me. I will never let anyone harm you or our son again."

Vanya sobbed and flung herself into his arms, breathing in his scent and hugging him tightly, as if it was all a dream that would disappear if she let go. "From now on, you never have to be afraid, Vanya. I will protect you both. No one, not even death, will ever lay a hand on you again!"

Ivar kissed her temple before she pulled back and stared into his eyes, looking for any sign of lies or uncertainty. But she found none, all she saw was honesty and rage. Anger that he let anyone harm them. "You have to swear it, Ivar! Promise me." She begged desperately, afraid to ever have to fight for her life again.

"I promise and swear on my life and the Gods. I will never, ever let anyone harm you or our son. No matter what it might take to keep you both safe, I will do everything and more to protect you. From now on, you'll both be safe and sound. I oath not to enter Vallhalla if I brake this promise. I swear on my arm ring."

Vanya leaned against his chest and sighed in satisfaction, with one less problem on her mind, she slept easier. Her son's absence still plagued her mind, but the sooner everything was done, the sooner she could have him in her arms again.

The next morning, five days since their son's birth, they all stood gathered in the Great Hall once again, revealing the plan to Blood Eagle Silas. "And who will do it? Ivar can't stand." Sigurd pointed out, making his brother snarl at him.

"It doesn't matter. We can give him a chair, or let someone else do it." Vanya jumped in before a fight broke out. She was in no mood to watch them argue; the most important thing right now is that Silas dies; it doesn't matter by whose hand.

Everyone nodded, looking at the wedded couple glued to each other's hip. Vanya still looked sick and weak, but the more she clung to Ivar, the straighter her back got, and the higher she held her head. She was gaining back the confidence she gathered during her nine months of marriage to their brother. There were still bits of fear and edginess visible, but with Ivar and Hoenir shadowing her, she breathed easier.

"You are on edge." Sigurd pointed out, voicing what everyone was thinking. Vanya locked gaze with him and smiled to reassure them.

"I..." A cry interrupted her sentence; a child was crying somewhere. "I miss my son, that's all. They still won't let me see him."

Aslaug frowned at the information and looked at her youngest son for confirmation. Ivar nodded and took Vanya's hand in his, trying to comfort his sad wife. The Queen rose from her seat and left the Ragnarssons, Vanya, Torvi, and Hoenir.

When she returned, it was with the sound of a crying infant. She opened the door with a babe in her arms, cradling it softly, trying to calm it down. "Mother?" Questioned Ubbe, confused, carrying his nephew towards Vanya.

The ginger looked at Aslaug bewildered, as the older woman laid the child into her arms. "You went through hours of horrendous labor and near death for this child. If anyone deserves to hold him, it is you." Aslaug smiled at Vanya, who hugged her son closer to her, the boy calming down the moment he smelled her scent.

The child reached out with his little hand and grasped a fiery lock, playing with it while staring up at her, sniffling slightly. Vanya smiled at his teary gaze and wiped his tears, stroking his smooth chubby cheek. "Looks like he just missed his mother. What a surprise from Ivar's child."

Aslaug and Vanya frowned at Sigurd's comment but ignored it as Ivar was too engrossed at looking at the little version of himself in his wife's arms. "That is the safest child in Kattegat." Hvitserk pointed out, looking at the calm baby slobbering over Vanya's hair.

Bjorn snorted and patted Vanya and Ivar on the shoulder. "With a mother ready to burn kingdoms down and a father into ritual sacrifice? It only fits with a grandson of Ragnar Lothbrok."

The others nodded along while Vanya looked at Ivar with a raised eyebrow. At Ivar's confused stare, she smiled down at the babe. "Hold your hands out, Ivar. You should hold him too."

Ivar looked at the frail newborn and shook his head. "I will drop him, Vanya."

The redhead rolled her eyes and passed the child towards him despite his protests. "You are holding him with your arms, not your legs. Bond with him, he didn't see that much of you." She spoke softly, not meaning it in a mean way.

With tender eyes, Ivar looked at his son, noting the wiggling legs under the fur. He would walk one day, run around just like Ivar's brothers could. At least in something, the gods were merciful; they listened to his prayers and made his son strong and healthy. Just like his mother prophesied, and his son would be like his grandmother. He would have visions, Hoenir, and Aslaug were sure of it.

"Did you think of a name?" Ubbe asked, watching his serene nephew.

"Yes. But it's a surprise." Vanya revealed giggling at Torvi and Hvitserk, cooing at the babe who frowned at them in return.

In the heathen culture, nine days after a babe is born, the naming ceremony is held. Vatni ausinn is a ritual where the father acknowledges the child and names it. Ivar sat in a chair with their son on his knee, sprinkling the babe with water.

"My son, Aros!" He announced to the room while his babe everyone cheered in delight. Ubbe nudged Vanya, who stood next to him, clapping. The redhead looked up at him with a questioning look at the older males smug look.

"From the river's mouth? Really?" He asked about the name meaning while Vanya shrugged.

"It fits, does it not?"

"I guess it does." He looked back towards his little brother, cradling his firstborn lovingly. "Aros Ivarsson."

After the ceremony, Ivar and Vanya returned to their hut, with Hoenir following behind them. Her husband was about to order some thralls to fill their tub with water when Brynja ran towards them. "Wait, My Prince. Let me do it. I would like to spend some time with Vanya anyway. If you were to permit it."

Ivar looked at Vanya in question, but the ginger smiled at him reassuringly. "Go. I could use a distraction before tomorrow. And Hoenir will be outside; we will be fine. Have fun with your brothers." She reassured him, kissing his forehead and sending him off.

The Prince and wanderer left the hut, the girls cold Hoenir sitting outside on the bench, but ignored his presence. Vanya turned on her heel to look at Brynja, who smiled at her softly, her eyes glassy.

"What's wrong? Are you unwell?" Vanya frantically ran to the other redhead's side, pulling her towards the bed to sit down. Brynja laughed at the worried mother and shook her head, her curls bouncing around her.

"I am just happy to see you again. My life would be very boring without you, My Princess." She confessed, hugging Vanya, careful of the sleepy babe in her arms. Vanya embraced the older ginger with her left arm, enjoying the affection Brynja gave her.

Truth is Brynja is her only true friend here, that she befriended outside of marriage. Of course, Ubbe, Torvi, Hvitserk, and Bjorn are her friends as well. But if it weren't for her marriage to Ivar, she would have never talked to them. Vanya liked to believe her, and Brynja would be friends even if it weren't for Ivar. If she ever were to get divorced, Brynja would still be her friend.

The curly-haired ginger had a pure heart, contagious smile, and shared Vanya's love for children. She gave the best advice and listened to her complaining without any remarks. For every complaint Vanya told her, Brynja gave two. Servant or not, she was a good girl and an even better friend.

"I bought you a gift!" Brynja cheered, letting Vanya put Aros into his crib. Floki made it for the babe from the boat meant to serve as their coffin if they were found dead. It was quite morbid, but Vanya didn't mind it that much, and Aros seemed comfortable.

The Viking girl showed her a present wrapped in a cloth. She laid it on Vanya's lap and mentioned for her to open it. Brynja was giddy, and in turn, Vanya became giddy as well, she unwrapped the gift and looked inside to see the neckline of a dress. The fabric was blue with white lacings.

"You bought me a dress?" Vanya asked, confused, looking up at the sheepish ginger.

"Made actually. It's not as pretty as the ones you make or the ones you buy. I don't know how to make dresses like that, so it's plainer." Brynja apologized, frowning down at the dress, no longer as excited as before.

Vanya shook her head and walked towards the mirror with the gift in hand. Watching herself in the mirror, Vanya marveled at the simple dress. It wasn't as lavish as the dresses Vanya was used to having, but she liked its look. "It's beautiful. I bet it's comfortable as well." She reassured the other female twirling around with the dress to see it flow in the air.

"I made it for your name day, but I didn't get to give it to you." With a bashful smile, Brynja watched the Princess gush over the dress. It took her a long time to make the dress, but the smile was worth all her frustration with the fabric. And all the times her father laughed at her pricking her finger.

Vanya turned on her heel and looked at Brynja, shocked. "You wasted money on me!" She cried out mortified, the fact that the poor girl bought fabric to create the dress. But Brynja shook her head and shrugged the issue off.

The young mother carefully set the dress down on the bed and skipped to her wardrobe to look inside. "You must choose one of mine, even if you sell it. I can't just accept a gift like that and give you nothing in return!"

Brynja shook her head at the frantic Princess and observed her rummaging through all the dresses she owned. "That's what gifts are for, Vanya. You give them out of love, not expecting anything back."

"Nonsense!" Vanya fussed and turned towards the other ginger. Brynja's smile was tired, and her eyes pleading. She didn't want anything in return, but that didn't sit with Vanya. "Choose whatever dress you want. If not for yourself, then for me. You gave me a gift out of love. So chose yours."

Brynja smiled at that and walked to the closet to find a dress for herself. In the end, she chose a purple one with long dark sleeves. "Purple. Like your favorite flowers."

"You remember?" Brynja blinked at Vanya in astonishment while Vanya mockingly rolled her eyes, smirking.

She circled the older female in front of the mirror and stopped behind her, propping her chin on her shoulder. "Of course, I remember. I always remember small things like that. But don't ask me anything important. I do forget these things very easily." Brynja chuckled and felt the soft fabric with her fingers, liking the feel of it. It was obviously expensive, but the servant wouldn't complain to Vanya. "How is your father, anyway? Is he better?"

Brynja hummed and laid the dress on the bed, neatly folding it and wrapping it in the cloth from Vanya's gift. "Stronger every day, which he keeps showing off. I think he fell in love with the neighbor's widow. He keeps running around shirtless and lifting heavy things."

Vanya laughed at the image of Brynja's father only in his breeches, smiling every time he sees the widow. "Maybe he is taking the lack of children in his own hands. Trying to create some little ones on his own."

"Oh, gods! I hope not; he is too old." Brynja gagged and smirked at Vanya, crowding closer and whispering into her ear. "I would rather make some of my own. But there are no men good enough."

The Princess sighed and sat down on her bed, looking up at the cheeky ginger. "And why are you whispering? Are you afraid that the man outside might hear?"

"I saw his face once, quite handsome. A bath would do him wonders. And new clothes." Brynja confessed, gushing over Hoenir. The seventeen-year-old mother shook her head, and teasingly smiled at Brynja.

"My, my, is someone in love?"

"Hush, Vanya! Or I will regret missing you at all!" Brynja joked back, fake glaring at the taller girl, while she laughed it off. It was good to be back and joke around, forgetting what is going to happen tomorrow.

The two girls walked to the door after the bath was prepared, saying goodbye for the night. Vanya watched her go with a small smile, thankful for her visit. She then turned on her heel and sat down next to Hoenir, who looked at her in confusion.

At least she suspected it to be confusion; it's hard to tell in the dark when he has his hood on. "I wanted to thank you for the advice you gave me in my dreams."

"No need to do that. You would have survived anyway; I had a vision of our meeting. It couldn't happen if you died before we met. My job now is to make certain you don't die from here on." His voice was smooth, yet a little bit rusty and monotone like always. She wondered if he felt any emotions or just his them pretty well.

"Then I thank you for that instead. But I wish for you to find a hut, not just a bench or a piece of fur outside of ours."

Hoenir shook his head and looked down at her cold frame. "I need to be near if somebody were to attack you."

"Ivar will be with me."

"Doesn't mean you will be safe."

Vanya sighed and looked out towards the sleepy streets of Kattegat, smiling softly. "I am safe. I am home, surrounded by friends and family. I have nothing to fear."

Hoenir scoffed and leaned back, ignoring the persistent ginger by his side. Vanya looked at him, expecting an explanation of his behavior, but he gave her none. "Say what you want to, Hoenir. If we are to spend a lot of time together, you should be able to say what you want to."

"You are very annoying."

"I know. Get used to it." She smiled at him cheekily, causing him to shake his head and stand up. Vanya looked at him in confusion, till he pointed at a crawling shape in the dark.

"Your husband's coming. And I have a hut to find. I don't want to hear anything I shouldn't." Vanya nodded, satisfied until the meaning behind the words hit her.

"We wouldn't if you were outside! That's so improper!" She scolded him, blushing madly. Did Hoenir really think that she and Ivar would sleep together if he were right outside their door?

He shrugged his broad shoulders and pulled his cloak tighter around his body. "You never know. I believe I have to take a bath, as well."

Vanya looked at him, shocked, and blushed even harder. "You heard?"

"Some of it. I am a better listener than a talker. So get used to it as well, Princess."

"Call me, Vanya. Please."

"As you wish, Vanya. Goodnight, Sleep well. Both of you." With that, Hoenir sidestepped Ivar on the porch and stalked off towards a random hut, entering it and closing the door behind him.

"Whose hut it that?" She questioned her husband, who watched the wanderer walk off as well.

"His. Mother gave it to him." He shrugged, crawling inside with Vanya behind him bewildered. The wretched man had a home all along and stayed in front of their hut instead. She didn't know if to be moved by his dedication or annoyed by his stubbornness. "Did you take your bath yet?"

"Not yet." She had her back turned to him while he sat by the tub. She put the dress away and slowly unbraided her hair. "Did you make a decision on who will kill Silas?"

"I will do it. Torvi went into labor. He will be with her, and I will Blood Eagle the little Monster." Ivar boasted pridefully, making her sigh.

She brushed through her hair and put the tie that kept it together safely away to find it in the morning. "Let's hope the Gods are with Torvi, and the child will be born soon."

"If it's born sooner, Bjorn can kill your brother in my steed. It should be me killing him! I thought I lost two of the most important people in my life. He didn't worry about you two as I did!" Ivar complained as he dragged himself towards the fire chairs by the fire and poured himself a cup of ale.

"Ivar." Vanya scolded, untying the laces of her dress. "Torvi shouldn't suffer so that Silas can die by your hand. She deserves better."

"I think so too, but she is the one who married Bjorn."

Vanya spun on her heel, annoyed by his words. She froze with her mouth open, looking at him sitting there sipping on his cup. He raised his eyebrow at her sudden silence and waited for her mind to start working again.

"Put a shirt on, Ivar! I am trying to scold you!" Ivar smirked at her flustered state and leaned back in the chair, showing off his naked chest.

"Why? Do you not like the view." He asked cheekily, making her pout and skip over to him. Kissing his lips, to wipe the smug look off his face, Vanya pulled back, raising an eyebrow at his satisfied face.

"You are a pain, husband. You are lucky I love you."

Ivar grinned at her teasing words and kissed her knuckles, gazing into her steel-blue eyes. "Good. I would be hurt if you didn't." Vanya chuckled softly and connected their lips again, enjoying being in Ivar's arms once again. "What would I be without my Freyja."

Vanya groaned at his question and slapped his shoulder pouting. The Ragnarsson frowned at her reaction, hurt by her dismissal. "I used to think you were the cleverest man alive. And here you are calling me a goddess like the rest of them. I am not Freyja or Frigg!"

Vanya stood up from his lap, dropped her dress, and stepped into the wooden bathtub. Ivar shook his head and put his cup down, looking at her seriously. "You are perfect, full of light and love. You love me despite everything I am and didn't blame me once for your suffering. Vanya, you are my wife, a survivor, and the mother of my child, far more powerful than you believe yourself to be. Min elskede (My beloved), you are either a gift from the Gods or a Goddess yourself, I have no doubts about that."

Vanya smiled at his loving words, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Do you really think I'm powerful?"

He chuckled at her question and pointed at himself. "I, for one, find you terrifying." She grinned at the answer and bashfully looked down into the water, trying to hide her blush behind a curtain of red locks. "Who else sees you as a goddess anyway?"

"The people do. And Sigurd as well."

Ivar frowned at the last part and sourly drank the rest of his ale, while Vanya silently laughed at his jealousy. "He believes me to be a goddess because I endure you. But it's not such a hard task as everyone makes it out to be. I enjoy your presence quite a bit." She smirked secretly; her head turned to pick up a cloth to clean herself with. When she turned around, Ivar's face was close to hers, startling her.

The rag would have hit the floor if it wasn't for him catching it. The corner of his perfect lips lifted at Vanya's wide-eyed stare. He seemed like a predator, watching his prey, enjoying every second of the hunt. "I enjoy your presence, as well, obviously."

"Obviously." Vanya echoed, hypnotized by his hungry stare, his eyes like a raging storm, pulling her in deeper. She leaned in to connect their lips, but Ivar pulled away and crawled towards the beds to look at their child instead. She scoffed at his teasing and cleaned herself, pouting the whole time.

She expected Ivar to leave her alone after his stunt, but luckily for her, he had other plans. The moment she sat down on their bed, he kissed her and laid her down on the furs, making love to her carefully, in case she was still in pain after giving birth not that long ago.

The next morning, they were woken up by their son, whining in his bed, hungry and rested. They both groaned, exhausted from last night's lovemaking. Ivar sat up in bed, lifted Aros, and handed him to Vanya so she could nurse their little treasure.

"Silas will be bought to the Hall after our meal," Ivar informed her, watching her for any sign of hesitancy. But there was none. She decided he deserved to die even before Aros was born, and the fact that he threatened her son's life was the last nail in his coffin. Silas would die a painful death and burn in Hell for all eternity.

"Then let's go. The sooner we eat, the sooner this will all be over. And I can gust over Bjorn's and Torvi's baby." Vanya spoke, burping Aros while Ivar got dressed. After he was done, he took the babe from her and allowed her to clothe herself as well.

When she laced up her white dress and braided her hair, she walked towards Ivar and took the babe from his embrace, smoothing down the little hairs on Aros's head. Ivar picked up his axe and put it on his belt, so he wouldn't have to return for it later. When Vanya saw this, she frowned. "Wait."

Ivar looked at her, confused, waiting for her to continue. She laid Aros down on their bed, ensuring he was secure and walked over to her husband again. She took his axe and trailed her finger the edge, testing the sharpness. The sharp bite of the blade and the bead of blood that flowed down her finger reassured her that it was indeed ready to be used.

The execution would be smoother this way, which meant the whole ordeal wouldn't take too long. No matter her hate for Silas, she would hate for him to suffer under a dull blade. He always said he deserved the best, Vanya thought that should include the weapon that would kill him too.

Ivar gazed up at her, not sure to question her behavior or not. She seemed like she was in a trance, too deep in her mind to remember that she wasn't alone. He softly pried the weapon from her soft fingers and laid it on his lap, taking her hand into his and sucking on the fingertip to stop the bleeding.

Vanya kneeled in front of him and kissed the steel of his weapon, looking up at him pleadingly. "Make him pay. For everything."

"I will."

After breakfast, everyone gathered as Floki set up the posts where Silas would kneel. Ubbe walked to her side and tried to pull her back, but she wrenched her arm free and glared up at him.

"You don't have to be here, Vanya." Sigurd reminded her from her left, also looking at her with soft eyes like she would brake. As if she was weak, but he was wrong. They were all wrong. Vanya was a survivor like Ivar said.

The ginger shook her head and mentioned for Brynja to join her. She handed the babe to her and ordered Hoenir to take them to Ivar's and her hut. "I must be here. I have to see him die. If I don't, I will never be sure if it's over or not."

Ubbe watched her determined face and nodded, Sigurd on the other hand, scoffed and walked off, obviously displeased. "What is his problem?" Vanya asked, seeing the Ragnarsson stalk off, muttering under his breath.

Ubbe gave her a wry smile and shook his head. "He believes you to be tainted by Ivar. Sigurd thinks that he is forcing you into this. That he was the one who chose to Blood eagle Silas and not you."

Vanya scoffed at the explanation and glared at the retreating figure of the snake-eyed Viking. "If anybody deserves to see Silas die, then it's me. I was the one who spent three days in the middle of nowhere, freezing, bleeding, and starving. Silas made my life a living hell from the moment I can remember. I want him to suffer."

"I understand that. But Sigurd still sees you as that timid Princess who was forced to marry Ivar. Many of us do, but you have changed. You are stronger than before, more confident as well. But you don't have to force yourself. You did nearly faint at the mention of blood only nine months ago. No one would blame you if you needed to get some air."

Vanya smiled up at the worried Ragnarsson and linked her arms with his. "Then would you be so kind as to stand with me and catch me if I do faint? After all, you are my only friend left in the room."

Ubbe chuckled at that and led her towards a place near the door to have a good view and an escape route. Silas was dragged in by his arms, spitting insults at the men in English, not caring if they understood him or not. He was pulled on top of the podium and chained to the wooden posts, while a chair was positioned behind for Ivar to sit on. The Ragnarsson dragged himself up and sat down, looking for his wife, relieved to see her with Ubbe.

After a nod from her, he raised the axe and cut into Silas's flesh, a scream echoing around the hall. Vanya watched the display emotionlessly, taking in Silas's screams. They disgusted her; she wanted to cry but had no tears to shed. It was as if her heart and mind were two different entities, disagreeing with each other about what reaction to give. She hated the sight of blood, hated his screams and pain. But found relief in it.

He was dying in front of her eyes, and she was horrified by the display. But not enough to look away. Ubbe squeezed her hand in a silent question if she was ok. She shrank back but kept looking, cringing from time to time at the violence. This is the last time she would see death; she couldn't handle so much gore ever again.

"Vanya!" Silas screamed out between his cries for mercy, catching her eye in the crowd. Vanya locked gazes with his pleading one, her eyes cold and empty, a coverup of the turmoil in her core. "Please!"

She shook her head, keeping her head held high, not showing any sign of hesitance or weakness. She wanted Silas to see what he caused in her eyes before he died.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they who mourn,

for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,

for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

for they shall be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful,

for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure of heart,

for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers,

for they shall be called children of God.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Vanya repeated in her mind, remembering how their mother drilled the words into their minds as children. If Silas is truly a martyr, then he will be reunited with God, which she doubts, but maybe it will give comfort to Silas. The blond King kept screaming as Ivar drew the lungs from his body, putting it on his shoulders, his time on earth coming short. "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." She whispered underneath her breath, seeing the life fade from Silas's eyes and his head fall.

He was dead.

#vikings #vikings imagine #history vikings #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar #original character #original female character

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wilder-minded · 4 years

Text

SFB Chapter 4

Read previous chapter.

Our school gave us a holiday every year for the few weeks that the Games were broadcasting, the Capitol deeming it of the utmost importance for most life to take pause. This meant that aside from the mines and some merchants, everyone was to take the time off to watch the torturous broadcast. As the daughter of the Mayor, I had been afforded the luxury of my father's library as a child, though stocked with Capitol-approved titles only. By now, I had read my way through all of the books I found interesting. I had loved helping our housekeeper tend to our small patch of flowers as a child, though I mostly occupied myself with reading or playing the piano.

On days like today when I had nothing to take up my time, I found myself on the piano bench playing my way through the keys in patterns that had become second nature over the years. My mother felt well enough to come downstairs and was perched in a chair by the window, wrapped in a blanket with her tea in hand. Some days, when the migraines hit especially hard, even the soft music from the piano was too much and I was confined to silence. But my mother always insists that she loves hearing me play, so I do today—for her.

Her eyes were focused on the life outside of the window, but I watched her quietly. Between my parents, I resembled my mother the most. We had the same wavy blonde hair and soft features, but my blue eyes came from my father. I had a distant memory of my mother mentioning to my father that I looked so much like Maysilee; a thought that put her in bed for three days after. I supposed I did after all, they were twins.

"I wonder how Emily is doing," she says softly, breaking the silence between us.

"Emily?" I respond, my fingers stilling on the piano keys as I try to place the name.

She nods wordlessly, her eyes still gazing through the window. "Her mother." It takes me a moment before I realize that she means Mrs. Everdeen. They must have been friends as children, I think. Mrs. Everdeen was the daughter of the apothecary in the district and grew up with the other merchant children. It made sense that they would have known each other.

"I'm not sure," I admit and she sighs sadly, her eyes finally moving from the window to the tea cup cradled in her hands.

"She must be..." she trails off, her voice wavering. "I can't imagine what she must be feeling." She's right, she can't. I was never at any real risk of being reaped, but neither was Prim. One slip of paper is all it takes, I supposed.

"I'm sure this is difficult on them. Katniss has been taking care of them since her father passed away," I tell her, moving from the piano bench to the chair beside her.

"Yes," she says thoughtfully. Her eyes meet mine finally and she gives me a soft, sad smile. I notice the dark circles under her eyes and the way her cheeks curve slightly in. The years of constant pain and dependency on morphling have taken their toll. No one really knew what happened to my mother, and my father once told me that the only relief she has had was the first few years of my life.

"Emily loved him so much," she confides, adjusting the blanket draped around her shoulders. "She heard him sing when we were young, and she never looked back."

"Were the two of you close?" I question, not used to my mother speaking of her past. This was something she had always kept to herself.

She sighs, her eyes gazing back out the window again. "She was our best friend as children." My mind pauses on 'our' before the realization that she means her sister. I nod without speaking, watching her quietly for a moment. I can see that she has retreated into her own mind, so I stand and lean over, kissing her cheek softly. I had always wished for a mother who was present. Frequently I would catch myself lost in a bitterness over what could have been, ashamed and guilty. My mother loved me, even if that didn't fit with my idea of how a mother should be.

I tried to busy myself with the housekeeper, assisting with odd jobs in the kitchen before an idea crossed my mind. I pulled a small satchel from the hall closet, filling it with various items from our pantry. As I turned to walk toward the front door, I noticed my mother watching me from a doorway with a small book in her hands. I recognized it, a poetry book with a songbird drawn on the cover. It sat untouched on our bookshelf for years. I had once tried to touch it, and that had been the only time my mother had raised her voice at me.

"Will you give this to her?" she asks, holding the book out to me as I walk closer. I don't need to ask who; she already knows where I'm going.

I nod, smiling softly as I take it from her and tuck it into a safe pocket of the satchel. "Of course, I will," I promise as she reaches out, rubbing my shoulder gently before disappearing up the stairs.

I slip out of the front door and start down the stone road toward the Seam. I pass silently through the alleys lined with merchant shops; the streets much quieter than they would normally be this late in the morning. Once I reached the Seam, I tried to navigate the dirt paths by vague memory and when I reached the small shack with a goat contained in a small pen at the side, I knew I had found my destination. I had remembered Katniss mentioning the goat her sister doted on a few times during school.

I had barely knocked on the door once when it opened, and Prim's small face peaked out with a small smile. "Madge?" she asked, the door opening more. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see your mother, can I come in?" I ask and she nods, letting me slip in beside her. It isn't until I turn to close the door that I see the eyes watching me from behind curtains across the street. I was used to it by now, but I could only guess that they were not used to seeing someone like me in their neighborhood.

Mrs. Everdeen stood over a wash tub; her arms wet up to the elbows as she worked over some clothes. Their small one room home had the few windows open to let the summer breeze pass through, the small television playing quietly in the back corner. "Miss Undersee, is everything alright?" she asks, using a towel tucked into her belt to dry off her hands as she comes around the table toward me.

I nod reassuringly, my fingers pulling the satchel from my shoulder. "I wanted to bring some things by for you, we have far more than we need..." I say, trailing off as she helps me lift it onto the table. I reach in, pulling out the small book.

I run my thumb along the binding before holding it out for Mrs. Everdeen. "My mother wanted me to give this to you," I tell her, watching her eye fix on the cover. As she takes it from my hands, her fingers brush along the edges of the drawing on the cover. I see the creases in the corner of her eye deepen before she shakes her head, blinking quickly.

"This was her sister's," she says quietly, suddenly grabbing my hand. "Tell her I said thank you?" I nodded in agreement, noticing the tears in her eyes—eyes that looked similar to my own.

"Of course," I promised, both of my hands gripping hers. If she had been close with my aunt, I realized that Katniss wasn't the first person that the Games had taken from her. We let go and she moved to place the book on a small shelf with a beautiful tea set.

"Would you like to stay for a while?" Mrs. Everdeen asked, gesturing toward where Prim was curled up by the tv on a small chair. "I'm just getting some things done, but I'm sure she'd enjoy the company."

I accept the offer, taking a spot in a chair beside Prim. As she filled me in on what had happened that morning, I noticed a cat slink in from the open window. He automatically strode over, weaving himself between Prim's legs before she scooped him up in her arms. "What's his name?" I ask, reaching over to scratch the top of his head. He seems to like this, giving me a small purr as Prim strokes down his back.

"Buttercup, I've had him since he was a kitten. Katniss hates him, but she let me keep him," she says proudly as the cat jumps down, fixing the tousled fur on his back end. "My goat's name is Lady."

"I love that," I smile and I see her eyes light up for the first time since I had arrived. Nearly everyone loved Prim, and it was easy to see her gentle nature even just in passing. It was easy to see why Katniss took her place; Prim would have no chance in that arena.

I listened as Prim told me about all of the animals she had attempted to keep as pets, her mother chuckling behind us at the memories, when there was a knock at the door. It swung open and Gale stepped in, his game bag hanging heavy at his hip. He and Mrs. Everdeen immediately get to work sorting through the game and herbs that he brought for her, and it's a few moments before he notices Prim and I across the room.

"Hey, Prim," he says, his smile warm toward her. "Undersee," he nods toward me, though I notice that his smile lingers for just a moment.

"Hawthorne," I return the greeting, Buttercup now weaving himself between my legs.

"I didn't think he liked anyone but Prim," he comments, gesturing at the cat as he pulls over a chair beside Prim.

"He likes people who like him," she retorts, her tone with a slight teasing edge. He chuckles and reaches over to mess up her hair.

"He's only useful for keeping the rats away," he shrugs, his eyes meeting mine for a moment before he looks at the television. The cat turns back to look at him, giving him a half-assed hiss almost on cue before stalking off. "So what's new?" he asks as he rests his elbows on his knees, nodding his head toward the tv.

Prim shrugs, playing with the end of one of her braids. "She was hiding in a tree for most of the morning. The career pack killed a girl right by her and I was scared that they would find her, but they didn't. And... Peeta is with them... the career pack," she tells him, her voice quieter.

"Why would he do that?" he says bitterly, a crease forming between his brows. Prim just shrugs and I say nothing. I am perplexed by this as well as I think back to the gentle boy I had crossed paths with occasionally. He definitely was no Career tribute. Then a thought occurs to me; he might be trying to protect her.

"She's hunting now, but I don't think she's found water yet," Prim finishes and I notice the cat has perched himself at her feet yet again.

"She will, she knows what she's doing more than anyone else in there," he reassures her and Prim gives him a small smile in return.

"This is the most ideal arena she could have hoped for," I chime in and they both nod in agreement. The arena looked so much like the hills surrounding our district. We settle into silence, watching the Games with occasional comments. An hour passed before Gale got up to leave, refusing the trade Mrs. Everdeen tried to give him.

"When do you start?" she questions, finally convincing him to take a salve for his mother's hands that she had made.

"The week after next," he tells her and I think back to our conversation the day before. "I'll try to get ahead on hunting so both families are okay." She thanks him, and his eyes meet mine as I give him a small, sad smile. He disappears out the door, game bag in tow before Prim and I turn back to the screen demanding our attention.

#the hunger games #catching fire #gale hawthorne #madge undersee #gadge #gale x madge #fanfic #ao3 #slow fire burn

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spirit-tracks · 4 years

Text

A Brief Moment

A princess and a hero find they have something in common in the tunnels under Hyrule. (A Link to the Past)

(hurt/comfort, bonding over loss of father figures, strangers to friends, sort of. 1198 words)

Footsteps echo in the sewers beneath Hyrule, loudly splashing up water and kicking up rocks. Mice shriek and dive out of way as two children run, breathing heavily, the first holding out a lantern and the second holding up her dress. Not that it does much, as the darkness of the chambers is suffocating, and the water is oily and dark, staining their clothes and shoes in splashes and spatters.

He holds her hand like a vice, eyes darting every which way to find the next door and the next door and the next-- hoping to the goddesses that he's going the right way. They've gotten turned around too many times to count, only having just escaped the dangerous, winding corridors of the castle. The princess is gasping for breath, and he isn't doing much better.

She trips, quite suddenly. He nearly goes down with her, jerking to a halt with a gasp when she's torn out of his grasp, falling unceremoniously into the water with a yelp. It looks painful, and she winces as she pulls her hands from the puddles to push back her hair.

Concerned, he kneels shakily into the water, holding his hand out again. His voice is barely working as he asks, "Are you okay?"

Zelda nods, but she's trembling. He finds his heart sinking like a stone in the lake, remembering the state he found her in, back in the dungeons of the castle. Scared, alone, her eyes wide and full of fear and then relief at seeing him arrive through the bars of her cell. The stress of escaping had, at the time, rejuvenated them with adrenaline, but now in the sewers, with only the odd rat to block their way, the fight or fight was wearing low.

She must be exhausted.

When he helps her to her feet, he doesn't start running again, but rather leads her to the dry walkway near the wall, setting down his lantern.

"Let's rest a moment." He says softly. They both deserve it.

Zelda has been incredibly quiet about the difficulty of their escape, not a single complaint uttered since they stepped out of the dungeon. Further, she says nothing when she settles against the wall and pulls her knees up to her chest, hugging them and tucking her chin into her arms. She doesn't look at him.

He doesn't know what to say. Perhaps that's for the best. It wouldn't do to bombard her with questions in this brief moment of quiet. So instead he settles down next to her, crossing his legs and resting his sword in his lap.

Only the sound of running water, trickling in the gutters and dripping from the ceiling, whispers in the darkness. The princess's and his breathing evens out, slowly, and he can finally catch his bearings and think.

There are many, many thoughts on his mind. Thoughts he'd rather not focus on. Thoughts he'd rather forget. So instead he looks down at the sword in his lap, down at his reflection in the blade.

The sword is wet, and cold. The weight is unnatural in his hands. Worst of all, there's red on the hilt, red he didn't want to think about while fighting off knights and trying to stay alive.

Take my sword and shield and listen.

His hands tremble when he rubs away at the red, trying so hard to scrub off the last of the memory before it can consume him. But it can't be helped. His eyes are filling up and he looks off to the side, hoping the princess can't see.

A sniffle breaks the silence. But it isn't from him.

His tears aren't fully gone when he looks over at her in surprise, and when he meets her eyes, his tear-filled gaze is reflected with one of her own.

She sniffles again, scrubbing at her eyes in haste. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He feels inclined to whisper, not wanting to raise his voice any more than she has. "It's been..." He has to pause, swallowing. "It's been a rough night."

It sounds pathetic. It's an understatement.

At this she gives a sad, watery laugh, shaking her head. She's dirty and wet and sounds so goddess-damned miserable that the laugh just makes his heart break.

"It's been many rough nights." She agrees, voice nearly cracking on the last word.

It's silence again as they gather their bearings. He can't help but compare her composure to the voice he'd heard not two hours prior, whispering into his head when he woke with a start. Her pleas for help were earnest and strong, her voice steady despite the horrible circumstance of it all. She'd barely been holding it together... and now she is falling apart.

"The King is dead." She says suddenly, and he looks up in surprise, watching as she stares ahead, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

If he hadn't felt hopeless before, it's certainly starting to crush down on him, now. Not long ago, as he infiltrated the castle, he saw firsthand the effect of the curse the evil wizard Agahnim had bestowed upon the knights. To usurp the throne... something had to have happened to the king.

...Her father, the king.

"I..." Bad memories flash before his eyes again before he can stop them, bleeding out in the basement of the castle. His voice hitches. "I'm so sorry."

She nods into her hand, face quickly contorting as she smothers a sob. She sniffles again, turning her head back to him as she asks, "But you. Are you well?"

She asks out of concern. She'd seen him crying. But the question glares, and he keeps seeing the blood. Keeps hearing the rattling of his breath, dying in his chest. Keeps remembering the heavy feel of the sword in his hand, in its scabbard, in his lap.

"My..." He can't barely speak. His throat keeps closing up. "My..." It's too late not to sob. It's already coming to the surface, and breaks the words that stumble from his mouth. "My uncle."

She nods again, but this time she can't hold back. She covers her face, shoulders shaking, and he feels she must think this is her fault. She is the one who called the both of them to the castle, after all.

"I'm so-- I'm so sorry..." She chokes into her fingers, but he doesn't blame her. He can't ever blame her for this.

So he reaches out, barely able to see her through the blur in his eyes, and tentatively touches her on the arm. It's soft, gentle, and he hopes it can relay comfort of some sort, any sort during this brief moment.

She needs it more than he realizes. As she cries her heart out, she scoots a little closer, leaning heavily against him and tucking her head into his shoulder. He doesn't expect it, surprise making him freeze up, hesitate. But he can't hold back much longer, face wet and throat tight, and he rests his head on hers, cheek pressed into her hair. His extended arm comes across her shoulders, squeezing her against him just like his uncle used to do.

Soon they would have to stand again, dry their tears, and continue their trek through the winding corridors of the sewers. But for now, there is brief quiet. For now, they are allowed just a moment to cry.

#a link to the past #alttp #link #zelda #the legend of zelda #tloz #loz #fic #fanfic #i want yall to know this is DIRECTLY inspired by that official art of link leading zelda through the tunnels hand in hand #but i made it sad because thats what i do best #because shit man werent they like 12 in this game?? YOUNGER?? and they both lost their father figures in basically one night #he gets trauma she gets trauma EVERYBODY GETS TRAUMAAAA #and man they were practically strangers at this point i'll bet theyve never even met before now but here they are running for their lives #hand in hand #I DONT KNOW I JUST FEEL SOMETHING THINKING ABOUT THIS PART IN ALTTP AND I NEEDED TO PUT IT ON PAPER SO HERE YOU GO #witch writes sometimes

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btsfan15 · 3 years

Text

Soaked!

"Wow, this set is amazing!"

I was at the set of Epiphany again. Jin already finished yesterday's shoot, so I decided to visit him today. I was gonna stay home and relax, but I decided to watch Jin film his comeback trailer. Today, Jin is filming the spectacular rain scene.

"This is where I get rained on." Jin says to me. "I'll get in for the scene."

"Oh, I can't wait!" I say.

"If you were wondering how the rain scenes are shoot, take a look over there." He points over to the set. There were two sprinklers on each side, with a light in the middle.

"Wow! That's amazing!"

"We use a set like that for rain." Jin says. "I'll show you what it's like today."

The sprinkles start spraying water everywhere.

"Woah, it looks like real rain!" I say.

"In a TV drama, you'll often see pouring rain and the main character trudging along it. It's something like that."

"Ah, yes. I've seen that before."

"Okay, let's get started!" The staff says.

Jin gets in position and I watch. He's just standing there and he still looks handsome. Wow, he's beautiful. The sprinklers start spraying water on Jin, getting him wet. I could see the sadness in his face. He is really an amazing actor.

He was expressing complicated emotions under the heavy rain. He walks out of the rain, completely soaked. He laughs. The staff brings him a towel. He wipes himself.

"That was amazing!" I say.

"Thank you, but why was the water so strong?" Jin says. "I had my eyes closed and the water just smashes into them. I couldn't lift my head. It hurt so much."

"Was the water warm at least?" I ask.

"It's not warm water, but it's not cold."

"Try and cry a little." I say. "Or you could breathe hard."

Jin shrugs his shoulders up down, making me laugh. He's so cute, even when he's wet.

The shoot continues and Jin is in deep sorrow under pouring rain. His acting skills get better and better. Once again, Jin walks out of the rain.

"You look like a drowned rat." I laugh.

He laughs.

The staff tells him he didn't come to the center, so he has to do it again. They dry his hair. I could see that he was thinking about the other guys.

"Are you thinking about the other members?" I ask, pouting.

"They should be here at a time like this!" Jin says. "All they did was to eat!!!" He sounded frustrated.

I chuckle.

"You know, the reason I came here was to watch you and give you comfort."

Jin looks at me.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I knew you would feel lonely without them."

"Yah, Navya! You're so sweet." He smiles and I smile back. "Thank you. It really means a lot."

"Anytime. That's what friends are for."

He gives me his bread smile, making me giggle.

Once again, Jin goes through the rain, only this time, he walks in the center. I watch and smile.

Soaked, wet, yet handsome...

"Shake your head!" The director says.

Jin shakes his head. That was hot. He then flips his hair back, making me getting goosebumps. That was hotter. Now that I've seen this scene, Jin looks so hot when he's wet. And handsome, too. Watching him reminds me of those romantic scenes when the main characters are running the rain and they kiss.

Hmm...I wonder if-no, no, no, no, no. I can't be thinking about that right now. I shake the thought from my head and focus on Jin.

He wipes himself off with a towel.

"Yay, you stood in the center!" I say, grinning.

"I'm so sad..."

"Awww."

We monitor Jin's killer move in the rain. We all gasp in amazement.

"Wah, you look so handsome!" I giggle.

Jin chuckles.

Now, we need the detail cuts! As the heavy rain pours down, Jin's soulful actor becomes deeper. He looked even more handsome now. A whole buffet, to be specific. We got some good footage. I monitor behind and saw one that really made my legs turn into jelly.

Jin wiped his lips.

I suddenly got butterflies in my stomach. The reason why I'm like this is because Jin such amazing lips. They're plump, soft, juicy, and red. It looks like he's wearing lipstick, but that's just the color of his lips. He doesn't even need lip balm. Just thinking about his lips makes me wanna ki-no, I can't. I need to stop thinking about these thoughts.

"I feel bad for you." I say, once he comes out of the rain. "You're getting drenched all day long."

"Don't be. Be lucky you're not the one getting wet." He says.

I smile.

The staff gives him a towel and he wipes himself.

"I'm 27, but it still feels nice to be buttered up."

I laugh.

We monitor once again and the director gives an OK sign.

"If you want to try one more time..."

Jin was startled.

"No, no."

We all laugh.

"I can do ten more takes."

"No, thank you."

"Jin, would you like to go again?"

"No, no!"

Jin stands up from his chair and walks over to the entrance.

I clap.

"The shoot is over! You did an amazing job, Jin!"

"Thank you, Navya. I worked hard."

"I know. Getting wet multiple times is frustrating."

Then, it gets awkward. I look down. Well, this is embarrassing. I clear my throat.

"I...I really liked those sprinklers. May I check it out?"

"Of course." Jin said. "Go ahead."

I smile and thank him. I walk over to the set and the floor was still wet. I looked all around and it was an amazing set. Can't believe the staff had the budget to do this. It looked like an actual street with a lamppost and rain. I smiled and was in awe. Suddenly, I heard a noise. Like splashing. I didn't know where it was coming from. Then, water poured down on me, soaking me. It kept coming. I closed my eyes.

The director noticed.

"How did it turn on?! Turn it off!"

Immediately, one of the staff members turned it off.

"Get Navya a towel!" The director said.

A staff and Jin came rushing over to me with a towel. I take the towel and wipe my hair and face.

"Are you okay?" Jin asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine, but how did it turn on?"

Jin scratches the back of his head.

"I don't know. It happens sometimes. We just don't know when."

"Oh. I wasn't expecting to get wet. I thought you were the only one."

"Me neither. Remember when I said 'Be lucky you're not the one getting wet?'"

"Yes, why?"

"I take it back."

We both laugh at his silliness. I sigh and look down at my clothes.

"My clothes are all wet. I didn't bring any spare ones."

"That's okay." Jin says. "It'll probably dry in a couple of hours."

I nod and we both smile at each other. Then, we both hear another sound, but this time, it was a different sound than before.

"Um...what's that noise?" I say.

"I don't know..."

Suddenly, water starts pouring on both of us again. It keeps coming like last time. We both close our eyes.

"Not again!" The director says. Another staff member turns off the water and we both are soaking wet. Again.

I push my hair out of my face and open my eyes. Jin had a surprised look on his face.

"Yah, seriously!? I just dried myself and now I'm wet again!"

"There's something seriously wrong with this sprinkler!" I say.

We both were dripping with water. I look up at Jin and he was staring right in my eyes. He was so beautiful with wet hair. I took in all his features. His brown eyes, his cute little nose, and most importantly, his lips.

Ah, here I go again after I specifically told myself not to think about this topic.

At that point, I really couldn't stop thinking about Jin's lips. I was right in front of him, so of course my mind went crazy.

"Well, all I know is that I won't need a bath for a few days." Jin says, laughing.

I laugh.

"Yeah, me too. I'm all clean thanks to the sprinklers."

We both smile at each other and lock eyes. Jin's bangs were in his eyes, but he didn't mind. There was water dripping down his face to his neck, making me swallow hard.

Then, Jin walks up to me, leaving us inches away from each other. He was even more gorgeous now. Jin brought his hand up and tucked a piece of loose hair behind my ear. He cups my cheek and leans in, connecting his lips to mine. I immediately kissed him back. My eyes fluttered closed. His hand felt warm on my face. I didn't want the moment to end.

He pulled away, smiling.

"You're gorgeous when you're wet." He whispers.

A cold shiver runs down my back.

"You're handsome when you're wet." I whisper.

The corner of his lips tug into a smile.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"Please."

I grabbed his shirt and crashed my lips onto his again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he wrapped his strong arms around my waist.

He pulled me closer and tilted his head to the side, making the kiss even more passionate. I ran my fingers through his hair as I kissed him.

I pulled away, leaving him breathless.

"I like you, Navya." He said, brushing my hair out of my face.

"I like you, too, Jin." I smile.

The staff comes to us with towels. We dry ourselves.

"I'm sorry, you too. I think there's a problem with the sprinklers. We'll try and get it fixed." The staff member said.

"No worries. It was an accident."

"Yeah, it's a good thing it went off cause now I don't have to take a bath for a few days." I say, laughing.

Jin and the staff member laugh along.

"Hey, do you wanna come over and hang out for sometime?" Jin asks me.

"I would love to, but I need to go back home and change into dry clothes."

"You don't have to go all way back home just to change clothes. You can borrow some of mine."

I blinked at him.

"You want me to wear your clothes?"

He nods.

"Well...okay. If you insist. They might not fit me, though."

"It doesn't have to fit you. It'll look cute on you."

I blush and try not to smile.

"Now, come on! Let's go home and have a great time together! I'll cook a delicious snack for us!" He grins and winks at me.

I laugh.

"Ooh, can't wait!"

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