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littlelostmabari · 1 month ago

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Day 2: Armor

Ok maybe I am doing #Veilguard30, whoops. Cullen / Non-Inquisitor Mage OC, established relationship.

Rating: T (lyrium addiction, references to death)

Word Count: 1500

I wrote this thinking about Saoirse from my fic One of the Good Ones, but her name doesn't appear. The POV is not described other than she/her pronouns. Inky in this universe is (spoilers) a bit of a shit. Also don't @ me about Cullen w/ a mage, it makes sense in OotGO 🙃

"The Commander sleeps in his armor."

He'd heard the joke before. Every day. For weeks.

He heard it as he stomped across the battlements to the Herald's Rest for a bite of stale loaf too early for even the kitchen staff to be awake. Someone whispered as they left his office late into the night, when the only other waking minds were the soldiers too ill-behaved or unlucky to be posted during daytime when visiting nobles could bear witness to their antics. Varric mentioned it offhand on a random Thursday in Wintermarch when the Commander had stormed through the main hall of Skyhold to another inane meeting with the advisors and this woman who liked to call herself Inquisitor.

The dwarf thought he was original.

No, Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Armies of the Second Inquisition, former acting Knight-Commander of the Circle at Kirkwall, formerly of Honnleath in Ferelden, did not sleep in his armor.

The truth was, he barely slept at all.

She closed the door, gently clicking wood and iron to shut herself away from the moonlight. Inside, three pairs of candles lit every available surface. One pair flickered on the table closest to the ladder to illuminate the path for runners between this office and the atrium of the elven apostate. Another pair were dimmer on the desk that she sometimes occupied when she helped him with supply ledgers.

The final pair, and the ones most frequently replaced, lit up the large wooden desk that formed the center of the Inquisitions armies. That desk was storied with symbolism and the weight of the duty of — oh who was she kidding. The desk was heavy as shit, and she knew because she and Sera had tried to stuff a small wooden wedge underneath it and their combined strength could barely shift the dust that accumulated along the edge. Fortunately the Iron Bull could be bribed.

Anyway, what was she looking at? Oh right, the candles.

Or more truthfully, the man whose face was lit up by the flicker of light. He was sitting, at least, a hand mulling about his three-day-old scruff. The shadow of yet another piece of paperwork struck an odd angle against his cheekbones and across the side of his nose, such that the emotions across his mouth and jaw were unreadable.

He hadn't looked up when she entered, but that wasn't unusual. Even this late at night, patrols and runners moved through his office with stunning regularity; unless something registered a threat or asked intentionally for his attention, he rarely got distracted by the doors anymore. She normally would take her time moving about the office, decluttering, dusting, replacing books back onto bookshelves in the way he had taught her because no, alphabetical order does not suffice, otherwise Genitivi's works would be too far away from the rest of the Chant.

Tonight, however, his hand wasn't just mulling across his three-day-old scruff, and he wasn't just holding yet another piece of paperwork up to the light. His fingers dug into both paper and flesh, tearing where they could and intenting where they couldn't. Eyes wide, she stepped carefully into his vision before moving closer. She was desperate not to startle him.

"Cul," she said softly, her murmur just barely louder than a whisper. "Is everything okay, sweetheart?"

His eyes betrayed him.

His hand fell from his mouth, leaving small red splotches and soft lines where the leather and the seams of his gloves dug into the skin of his cheeks. He dropped the list onto the table, and sat back with a smile that would have looked natural to those who did not know him. He stretched and rolled his shoulders in an effort to relieve the tension in his back and spine, but the creak of leather in need of conditioning suggested that he had spent too long hunched in thought. The wood of the chair legs scraped against stone.

"Hey, Pup, you're early," he murmured in return, one hand leaving his lap and stretching out, welcoming her to take its place. She obliged, sweeping one leg in between his and perching on his left thigh. She could enjoy at least this one of the only parts of him not covered in steel.

"I'm late, Cul. The three bell patrol just came through, and you," — she clicked a nail against his breastplate — "are supposed to be in bed."

He grimaced at the thought of his tardiness, but his eyes betrayed him again. They looked into her face without seeing, and then back down at the paper.

"Those we lost at Adamant," he answered the question she didn't ask. "Inquisition and Wardens."

She reached lingering fingers across the desk to the paper and pulled it just close enough to see that the list was too long. She reached a little farther and flipped it upside down in an attempt to hide it from his gaze, but the list only continued on the other side. He shared her grimace.

"Too many mistakes," he whispered, as if saying it made it reluctantly true. "The Inquisitor didn't bother with the battlements, and sentenced all the Wardens she met to death. Even those willing to lay down their arms. The report from Straud was damning". He made to slam his fist down on the table, but hesitated in the nighttime hours. "If I had been… if I had been at my best, Pup. If I had been focused…"

She pressed her lips gently to his forehead and let them linger. A small incantation left under her breath when she finally pulled away, and she could see the ripple of restoration magic echo down from his forehead to his neck, through his torso, and down to the hands that had started to shake.

"Lyrium might have saved a couple of them, Cullen." Her eyes looked deep into his, where the wrinkles looked ever so slightly shallower. "But you are saved without it. And the Inquisition needs you, Cullen. The best version of you."

"And I am better without Lyrium."

A couple years ago the statement would have been snarled with a snide grin or a sing-song lilt. He would have mocked her, while in the throes of withdrawal. Today it was emboldening, a mantra. He didn't quite yet believe it, but he no longer thought her entirely wrong.

She held him, palm against his cheekbone and fingers nustled in his hair, her forehead to his, until he found his way back to her glade of calm. Then, wordlessly, she rose with her hand on his, and moved them both away from the desk and towards the ladder, and with four candles snuffed, he followed her up into the loft.

The routine was a nightly ritual when they were both at Skyhold in the cramped attic they shared. When either slept alone, they each found themselves a little lost in the moments before bed, missing the parts of their night where touch was shared.

He never let her remove his boots and cuisses. They were almost always filthy, and he thought more of her than to have her wash his feet (even as she protested that they were his feet so she loved them anyway). His hands worked the buckles at his shoulders, where she was just barely too short to reach comfortably, while her nimble fingers worked their sisters on the sides of his torso. He would watch as she removed his bracers, breathing in the scent of her hair. Sometimes he let her remove his gloves, but more often than not she would ask him to pull them off with his teeth while he watched her climb into their bed. There was something primal about him ripping the final pieces from his body, sometimes wrapping items like his fur pauldrons around her, that made her dizzy with need.

But tonight was quiet in both mind and spirit. She brushed her lips against the parts of skin that she uncovered, replacing them with the gentlest of fingertip touches as he placed the pieces on the armor stand with ritual born of unannounced spot checks and stern commanding officers. The rest of his armor, clothes meant for the laundry and leathers in desperate need of new conditioning, were piled neatly next to the stairs for attending to tomorrow.

The moonlight she had shut out so long ago peeked in through the hole in the roof that neither of them wanted to fix. The oblique angle spread a path of silky white across two bodies that tangled themselves together under lightweight blankets, weaving legs over and under and arms across chests and under necks until neither knew where they ended and the other began. With her restoration magic quieting the simmering under his skin, sleep came quickly.

The morning did too.

And, as he did every morning, the Commander of the Inquisition's forces woke before the sun. It had no chance to gleam across steel and fur, even through the hole in the attic roof, until it was already on his body and he was striding across the battlements for a bite of stale loaf.

#veilguard30 #30 days of dragon age #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #cullen rutherford #commander cullen #cullen x oc #cullen needs a nap and a hug and a drink #oc:saoirse the druid

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urdepressedslut · 2 years ago

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Stray ❝part four❞

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader/The Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: It’s the next day and both you and Bucky don’t want things to change. He doesn’t want to leave, and you don’t want him to.

♡ Warnings: angst, fluff, hints to child abuse, hints to character death, hints to PTSD, hallucinations, self hate

Italics are flashbacks

Part 5

You tapped your fingers against the stone, trying to create a melody. Your vision blurred, the hit to the back of your head continuing to bleed. Wincing from a particularly harsh throb, you started to tap harder against the stone, dust floating around the air.

“Tom—” Your throat was raw from screaming, sending you into a coughing fit, “Tommy… What’s your color?”

You forced yourself to speak, your throat irritated from overuse. Your little brother Tommy was unfortunately trapped into another room, unlucky in avoiding Mom and Dads rage. The wall closer to the ceiling was made of a different material, it was thinner. It was the only way of communication you had with him. You’d check up on him occasionally if you weren’t unconscious, asking him for a color.

Green was fine. Yellow was hanging in there, but hurting. Red was bad.

You halted your tapping, listening for Tommy’s voice. A cry, cough, anything. The sound of your painful breaths were the only thing that could be heard, leaving you to think of the worst. Your nose burned at the thought of your baby brother beaten and left alone on the floor of his room. You were his big sister, and you failed at the one thing you were meant to do as his sister. Protect him.

“Tommy?” You called out again, “You awake? Please Tom, answer me!”

Your attempts continued for hours, sobbing, screaming, despite your throats irritation. You continued to receive no response, no sign of life. You felt defeated, empty of life the longer you sat down here. Your heart felt it was gone, ripped from your frail body as you let your mind fall into the abyss.

You could faintly hear the sound of the door opening from your brothers room, having you perk up at the sound.

Your body jumped as your Mothers screaming filled the two rooms, bouncing and echoing through the small space.

“My baby boy! No please come back!” Your Mother cried.

Your Mother might as well stomped on your heart, crushing it before your eyes. Your eyes filled with tears that you feared would be never ending, and you begun to wail along with your Mothers cries.

It was sick really, listening to a person grieve so violently. Even sicker when it was by their own doings.

☾

You sat on the front porch, waiting patiently for the sun to rise. Your hand holding a picture so tightly, it threatened to fold. Your body shivered from the cool dawn air, your blouse and dress not warming you enough. You found the cold to be refreshing after a sleepless night, waking in a pool of your own sweat.

Staring down at the picture, your eyes watered at the sweet smiling boy, face full of innocence.

With the sadness came anger that he was taken away far too young. Having missed out on his whole life, robbed of memories, experiences, everything.

Sometimes you would catch a whiff of the decomposing stench randomly in the air. Despite being free of that hell, you’d be sent back into that room. Body going into full blown panic, clawing at the air as if the walls were closing in, scratching up your arms in attempt to grab ahold of something. Then in a blink, you’d be standing in the open fields, hand full of crumpled up flowers.

Time would heal. Maybe that was true for some, but it was different when you were alone. Your thoughts seemed louder, with no outside input to interfere. You felt like you were still trapped in that room.

You felt like the same scared little girl from the first day it happened, confused, bleeding, betrayed. You trusted your parents, you loved them. Even now, you wanted to love them because you just didn’t want to believe that your parents would do such a thing.

A hazy figure to your right from your peripheral vision snapped you back to reality, causing you to flinch back from the intrusion.

Your head whipped to the figure, focusing your gaze suddenly on nothing. The figure was gone, the empty front porch the only thing filling your view. You blinked rapidly, glancing around in paranoia, wondering if what you had seen was real. If someone was lurking, watching you from afar.

The creaking of footsteps suddenly sounded from behind you, causing you to jump up from your spot, whipping around to see. Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes going wide, darting around when you were met with… Nothing.

Freaking out you were whipping your head around in paranoia again, breathing heavy from feeling terrified. You turned towards the house and ran inside, not risking another glance back at the door, in fear you’d find the figures following you inside. Shaking your head, you attempted to clear the fog that filled your brain.

Is it possible for an insane person to know they are insane?

Yes, but that doesn’t mean you can just stop. The battle wasn’t about reality. It was within your own mind. You had been molded by bloodied hands, raised to be imperfect, taught to do sinful acts. Though, you had a strong conscience, and you weren’t physically capable to follow in your parents path.

Yes, you were insane. But you were also a person who struggled to remain calm, clinging desperately to the general flow of life, without ever actually being included. You were aware that things didn’t make sense, the illusions of ghosts seeming to be impossible. But there was an overwhelming lack of control, horrifying thoughts overriding your clear ones.

Maybe you were getting used to it, or maybe this was just how things were gonna be for you.

That was the only explanation of how calm you could feel, only moments after dealing with an episode. But it didn’t matter how much you were used to it, you would always feel afraid.

Coming closer to the kitchen, you slowed your footsteps at the sound of loud chewing. It almost sounded like someone was scarfing down food. Tip toeing to the doorway, you peaked your head in, your heart warming at the sight of Bucky indulging in the breakfast you made.

You had assumed he wasn’t going to attempt to touch anything you had made, but you had hoped in the back of your mind that he’d help himself.

You had caught yourself frozen in a memory, losing yourself to your mind when you had accidentally made enough food for a family of four. The innocent looking gesture was all it took for you to excuse yourself, heading outside to the front porch. That’s how you ended up clinging onto Tommy’s picture in a fraught grip.

Your chest was warm in satisfaction at the sight of Bucky enjoying himself. Happy that at least someone was having a good day. You allowed your mind to fill with Bucky, your mind feeling more at ease with just him wandering your thoughts.

He was mysterious and broken, but behind what appeared to be a soldier, was someone gentle. You didn’t know what he’d been through, and you didn’t know if you’d ever find out, but you still couldn’t believe his words that he’s a monster.

You knew what the real monsters were like, having been stuck for twenty something years trapped with them. You knew what a monster was like, and he wasn’t one of them.

You couldn’t stop yourself from letting a giggle bubble up, the soft sound alerting Bucky of your presence. The sight of this fairly large man hunched over at the island, munching on waffles like he was in love with them, entertaining you.

Bucky on the other hand was slightly embarrassed at you catching him ravaging your homemade waffles. But he found it easy to ignore the awkwardness, from the shock that your sweet laugh had given him. It was the lightest sound he’d ever heard, igniting an unfamiliar feeling in his chest. But the feeling wasn’t unpleasant.

You watched his face go through too many emotions to depict and you couldn’t help the concern you felt for him.

“I’m guessing you like my waffles.” You stated, giving him a gentle smile. Walking further into the room, standing behind the island facing him.

His cheeks flamed with red, using his right hand to wipe the syrup from his lips.

“Yes, they taste really good.” He told you, starting to push his plate away, though he was still hungry. He felt awkward to eat in front of someone.

“Well, don’t stop eating on my account.” You spoke, noticing his discomfort suddenly. “I accidentally made too much food, so there’s plenty for you to eat.”

He nodded, wondering why there was so much food to begin with. With just the two of them, it wasn’t necessary. He still had doubts whether you were being truthful the night before, about your family. He hadn’t wanted to snoop around the house, but your suspicious behavior made him want to. He didn’t sense any other heartbeat, or any other being causing noises besides you. Surely his mind was playing tricks on him, maybe you were just a little odd.

“I was thinking… About uh— Making you some lunch before you go. For the road, I suppose.” You offered, fiddling with your fingers nervously.

Bucky stayed silent while listening, greatly appreciating the gesture. But he couldn’t help the frown that settled on his face, the thought of leaving— scaring him. But the thought that maybe you wanted him to leave, made him feel miserable.

Despite still having just met you days ago, you were starting not to feel like a stranger to him.

“I can make some sandwiches, or I can chop up some fresh fruit, veggies… Well, I gotta go pick some from the fields— But that’s no issue really.” You rambled on, Bucky continuing to watch you with an unreadable expression.

“That’s really not necessary, I have to be going.” Bucky mumbled, scratching the back of his neck with his left arm, exposing the flash of silver.

“Wait— what is—”

Bucky followed your gaze, and realized you had seen his arm. He’d totally forgotten you hadn’t seen it yet.

“Uhh… This— Uh…”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I just— I’ve never seen a prosthetic arm look like… Well, look so cool.” You rushed out, obviously staring at his arm, taking in all the intricate ridges, the bright red star.

Bucky cringed from your compliment, he didn’t believe it should be given. This arm was stained with the lives of so many innocents, it was tainted by the souls he had taken. It was a weapon, not a limb.

“Are you okay?” You snapped him out of his degrading thoughts, making him realize you’d been calling his name.

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

You watched with worried eyes and made another note to yourself.

Prosthetic arm: Sensitive topic

You would never truly understand for yourself how losing a limb could be taxing, and you’d respect him by not bringing it up. You’d felt guilty for mentioning it in the first place, the shock of seeing it had caught you off guard.

“So um… Lunch? What would you like?” You offered again, not minding to change the subject. His strange behavior was starting not to phase you.

Maybe it did, but you felt like you shouldn’t ask. You had your fair share of secrets, weird quirks that you were sure he noticed. A huge part of you appreciated that he didn’t seem to mind yours.

Bucky found you refreshing, you never pried. The second he was uncomfortable, you’d back off. It was odd to be so respected, especially after seventy years of being treated the opposite. Though he appreciated it, he felt he didn’t deserve it.

“I really shouldn’t stay any longer.” He told you with a frown.

“You running from someone or something?” You asked playfully, but your smile disappeared when you met his serious expression.

“Kind of, yeah.” He confessed shamefully, lowering his gaze to the leftover waffles.

“You’re very mysterious.” You thought out loud.

“It’s not safe for me to be here. It’s not safe for you.” He told you so suddenly, causing you to frown.

“I’m… not safe here?”

“You’re at risk with me around.” He informed you, watching your face scrunch with confusion.

“Why?”

“There are people looking for me. Bad people.” He said, his gaze intense.

“The bad people is who you’re running from, right?” You asked, trying to connect the dots on your own. You didn’t want to pry, but his words that you were in danger had given you the right to investigate.

Bucky on the other hand had felt surprisingly relived talking to you. Despite you not fully understanding how bad of a situation he was in, he was able to let someone else know what was happening. He felt less alone.

“Yes.” He whispered, his flesh hand closing into a fist.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but, I kinda live in the middle of nowhere.” You started, coming up with an idea.

You had obviously enjoyed having someone else around, the company being something you had missed.

Bucky furrowed his brows, a part of him had wanted you to ask him to stay, he didn’t want to get his hopes up. But deep down he knew he shouldn’t.

He nodded for you to continue, seeing as he didn’t have anything to say.

“Nobody ever comes up here— I don’t even think anybody knows there’s a house this way.” You stated, “As for the cemetery… It’s an old one, it’s been years since someone’s been buried here. So… No visitors.”

He listened intently, waiting to see where you were going with this. Again, he didn’t want to assume anything.

“You could stay. Here… With me.” You whispered, anxious that he’d reject your offer, leaving you here alone.

Bucky was taken aback, he was hoping you’d say just that, but to actually hear you say those words was almost unbelievable. Nothing ever worked to his favor. The never ending view of the fields, fenced by walls of towering trees had become something of comfort to him. It was peaceful and private, a place he could hide away.

You weren’t wrong— Yes, he had stumbled upon this place. Merely because he didn’t have a destination, the further the better. But this place was practically invisible, the grass looking untouched by anyone other than you.

He couldn’t help but want to trust you, you haven’t given him a reason not to trust you. He found it slightly terrifying that he was so willing to, but he had been trying to get a read on you the second he saw you. He didn’t come up with anything that might pose as a threat, instead he wondered if you were broken like him?

“You want me to stay?” He asked in disbelief, still thinking he imagined you saying those words.

You walked up, leaning against the island, holding his hesitant stare in a soft gaze.

“You can if you want.” You told him, wanting him to stay because he wanted to.

He had gone awhile without ever wanting anything, he was taught not to want, only to obey. But he didn’t want to obey anymore, he wanted to live how he wanted.

“Yes, I want to stay.” He confessed, the words feeling sour on his tongue. But the relief felt too good to focus on the anxiety. It was an overwhelming feeling of control he suddenly felt he had. He almost didn’t welcome it.

You smiled, watching his tense posture relax.

“Well, I’m gonna go pick some fresh fruit and veggies. I still wanna make you some lunch— And if you liked my waffles, just you wait.” You teased, “Be back in an hour.”

You reached under the sink, grabbing some old grocery bags, and headed towards the door. Beginning your adventure to gather food for lunch. You had a skip in your step, happy that Bucky had chosen to stay.

Meanwhile, Bucky watched your skipping form bounce out the door, and for the first time it felt like in forever… He genuinely smiled.

A/N: ahhh im overwhelmed with the support for this mini series, im so happy y’all like it🥹 let me know what you think of this part🤍

TAGLIST: @delicatecapnerd @buckybarnesandmarvel @viperchick47 @hunitweet @vixi-3303 @mirtaqueen @buckyb-stan @happinessinthebeing

#reader insert #light angst #fluff #oneshot #buckybarnes #imagine #marvel cinematic universe #marvel imagines #the winter soldier #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #dark themes #torture #imprisonment #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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honeybeewhereartthee · 5 months ago

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MY DARLING DOLLS 69

PREVIOUS || PT 12 CH69 || NEXT

-FUTURE PRESENT-

He don't know how long it been since he was stuck in this black and white world without motion.

It's probably days... Or weeks. All he did was look around for a sign of life. Yet he can't find any. Nor sign or anything colorful in this dull world.

He don't see that weirdo again. It's both a blessing and tragic. Because he realize he have nothing to do in this dull world but look around for a sign of life.

"Sometimes I wonder if love can make people go crazy in such level..." The lone human mumbles as he stared at the sleeping Kanata who's hugging a doll that look like you in his arms. It been a long while since he was stuck in this monochromatic world.

He gotten use to walking up to this rooftop but decided that moving back to where jun and Hiyori where is quite troublesome, so he move those two on the rooftop.

He did that to the other crazy b and alkaloid too since they would be more be happy if they wake up beside that Ayase and his big brother.

Through there's one problem with that, he can't find that shiina and Oukawa anywhere at all. It was weird that everyone was present, but those two.

"... My hair gotten longer for some reason." He mumbles as he stared at the reflection of his. It's getting in his view now. He hold his bang and played with it as he look around.

His eyes saw the braided hair of that phantom of opera and thought about it. In the end he decide to tie it with a side braid down the side of his face.

The moment he did that, he felt his whole being pulse and he heard something start to break. "...???? What ? " He looks around and saw no sign where that sound come from.

"I'm becoming crazy..." He mumbles as he eat some fries he gotten from a random store, since all the food will stay good and fresh, he can just eat them.

Somehow those food return back to what it was when he slept for a while.

"Never be a loser~" since he have nothing to do, he decide to sing one of his big brother idol unit song. He did went and grab a unit outfit as well to match, no one will tell him off after all.

"Which One Is Lucky Guy?Make a bet!

The safe is for the swarm of boring bees

A sting on your heart

A pain that numbs

Will it be a mortal wound? Goodness knows!

Crazy Roulette! Spin the roulette!

Feel the buzzy beat that shakes your fate!!!"

He felt himself lost in the song, he don't realize someone is singing along with him. Having his eyes close as he thought of the time where everyone and everything have it's color and moving. He wonder if his a lucky guy in this crazy Roulette thing called destiny or unlucky to be the only one in motion.

"..." He stopped singing as he open his eyes, his vision become blurry as tears fall from his eyes. "Ah.....ahh...." He felt himself in a breaking point. Loneliness... It's too much.

Someone...

Anyone...

"Kanamechii do you need a handkerchief?" His ears almost rang as he heard someone spokes to him. He stared up to the blue eyed friend of his brother and yours. Giving him a handkerchief.

"....Niki?" He mumbles in disbelief. One of the two people he cannot search for appear before him. "Hmm?" Niki realize Kaname won't wipe his tears on his own, he wipe it himself before he help the poor fellow up to his feet. The other who was lonely for a long time, at the sight of a living and breathing friend, he suddenly found himself crying even more.

"Ahhhh... I'm... Imm.... Not .

. Alone..

Anymore....!" He weep like a child as Niki sigh, trying to weep the others tears away. "Shh.. it's ok, it's ok. Everything would be ok soon..." Petting the head of Kaname, Niki start to humm to comfort the fella.

"How come I don't see you for so many days or months even..." Kaname stared at the other as Niki prepared some meals. "Ah? I was travelling the whole country to eat some food! When the times is on pause, everything is free estate!!" Putting some butter in the heated pan, Niki ready his pancake butter mix.

"...oh..." -kana. Knowing Niki, that's probably the truth ' he thought as he take bite of what Niki puts on the table. Which is a warm and delicious pancake!

"Hmm, Through I don't think anyone would be up till Shinkaichi will resolve the issue.." The cook mumbles, thinking how odd it is to see Kaname up.

"... What?" The young tojou stared at him in confusion. "What issues?"

"...well.

the flow of time comes to a stops

thuz, the tales have come to a pause.

Dear little amber wish for it to continue..

But all wish from the mad man comes with a price."

Blue eyes glow in golden for a moment, an image of a clock in those blue eyes appear for a brief moment as the voice of monotone spoke out a riddle like tone.

Kaname nom his food, wondering what's up with this weardo, but then remember everyone around you are bunch of weardo. Like him too! But his a cutie one!

"Oh... That's Seems a fair trade." He thought nothing much of it as Niki chuckle at the other nonchalant. "How come you react quite different from what I expected?"

"In the end, the story would continue." Kaname pointed out. "It's just the part where in is the middle part before the said goal." Nomming his pancake with syrup, he suddenly realize that Niki was able to use the pan and the cooker.

"YOU!!" he pointed at Niki who's cooking the next batch of pancakes for him to eat. "How ... How did you do that?" He pointed at the fire."

"I light it up obviously???" Niki was confuse what's wrong with the youngest tojou. Almost wondering if the little one have gotten some..

Screw lost when he was alone.

"..." Kaname went to the ref and realize he still cannot access it. He went to the blender and he still can't press and make it work.

"What do you want from the fridge?" He watch Niki open the fridge without a problem and gets some milk to drink.

"......... Ah. Himeru is quite smart!" He suddenly thought of very smart plan. He chuckle in Trump, almost making Niki worry again of what he will tell meru about his 'insane' brother when he wakes up.

- PAST PRESENT-

"... What's 6 + 9?" You heard Kuma the cat starts, you give him a stare for a moment.

"obviously it's 15—" shu rolled his eyes as he heard the question.

"wrong!!!" You and grey cat pointed out. "It's 69!!" You both said unison. "Aiyo? Omg... Are you my soul mate?" Your eyes sparkle at the grey cat who purrs in your hand as you tickle his belly.

"Nyoooo... I'm ur legally wedded chief for life silly!" He pointed out.

"... Not only your a fluffy grey ball of fluffy thing, you can also cook?! What a deal!" You give kisses to the fluff ball while shu who have gaze that said: fucking idiots.

Turning away that said: I don't fucking knows that idiot(dm)

In the black car corner who yawns after getting the attention of those two was flicked by Kanata. "Little kitty, don't break the forth wall ok?" The dragon kin whisper to the cat.

"the other options is to make some unfortunate soul kiss that silly dollmaker." The black cat rolled his red eyes. He give a side eyes to the dragon kin. "You, that phantom nor that pinky or at least anyone here is a good choice by any means.... Well except for that Tojo kid." Licking his paws he stared at the green eyes of the dragon, not daring to look away to see what he will react.

"... What about you then?"

"... That's too over kill~ after all~ at least what made them who they are, 3/4 of them favors and loves me <3 than any of you :3" he then wink at me.

Breaking the forth wall for the second time today.

"hmm... " Wisteria thought about it, he suddenly transform back to his doll self and went toward you.

"Aimcee... Oh... NOOOOO... I need... Kisses.... ::(" he weep in front of you. As if saying he needs love to get back to his human form. His not lying anyway but Kuma give him a bombastic side eyes as you scoop him up and give him kisses and Niki give Kuma look with a sigh.

"okii!!" As if forgetting he have wrong you before as you see his very cute doll form, all have been forgiven. You give him kisses.

"Me too! Me too!" The pink cat who awaken from all the noises scream out in his very small 15cm form, meowing and meowing. "Okii!!" You give kisses to the pink cat too.

#my darling dolls #my darling doll au main story #my darling dolls au main story #my darling doll au #ensemble stars #my darling doll #mdd au #mdd #mdd au main story part 12

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viscerawizard · 1 year ago

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I blink away the sleep that fogs my brain as my patrons' messages crowd my vision - blurred already by the rays of the morning sun and the fact that the cart is definitely still rolling over pathless hillocks - and say my catchphrase, as I always do. No one wants to miss it. I'm one of the best scrys out there, I hear. Not that it gets to my head. No.

"Goodmorrow, patrons! Who hast the strength to rove with me today?"

I am met near instantaneously with a crowd of m-m-m's - mental magus messages - most of which say something of the sort that one would say to a dog. "Heel!" says one. I find this unamusing. For the last few days, I explain to my newest scryers, I have been eating table scraps and bones. I am hungry - I chortle a bit - but I haven't lost my nerve just yet.

My party members are still asleep, but that's just as well. I can walk my scryers through preparing the healing potion that's been brewing for the last month, and show them the beautiful, beautiful hillocks that sometimes try to eat what rolls o'er them.

For this is not a path, no. This is a hemb's nest. I am in a hemb's nest. And I must be very very quiet, for I'm hunting their eggs.

The potion is a nice reddish-gold color by now, and one particular scryer says it looks very edible. I reassure her that it tastes revolting. The stoke-dragon under it nods. It is made with phoenix's droppings, which not only give a boost to regeneration, but smell and taste like a burnt raccoon who roll'd in giants' dung since it was a wee baby. The scryers laugh, reassuring me. I'm settling into the groove again, and as my party members wake up, they are introduced to my scryers too. Imoln has his own scryers to sate, Miya and Eyraz carry magical items which power them, and Ophelia - bless her - has trained her skills to the point that she doesn't need outside magicks for help. I'm a bit envious of her, but that's beside the point.

The point is the hembs. Big, rockish things. They bury themselves in the ground for months on end after breeding season and look like fields of stones. Hides thicker than your arm. And they're remarkably easy to train, if given time, attention, and generous helpings of mountain goat.

We'll be to the nest soon. It's at the heart of the hembfield. See, every spring, I explain to my scryers, all the hembs in a certain area go down from the mountains they live in and collect in valleys to mate. After that lot is done the eggs are laid at the center of the valley and all them hembs sleep around them to protect them - and whatever unlucky hemb is closest to a hemb egg when it hatches has to parent the thing till it's old enough to go off by itself and its hide has hardened.

Imoln gestures to me at the surroundings, then at his head.

"Ah."

I smile, then slink towards the back of the cart. He's going to show his scryers the view. I did that already, so now- ah! My spellbox! Drat. I didn't check my spellbox all morning.

I open my rucksack, and sure enough, it's spitting out magic parchment with this morning's donations on them already. Line by line, I watch a fireball spell materialize. It's fairly short, so I rip it off once it's done and roll it into a tube so it can go in one of my arm bags.

Miya whistles, perched on the wingless cliffwyrm that's pulling the cart. She sounds impressed, so I whip around and put the rest of the new spells in my leather arm bags as well.

"Hemb eggs!" I exclaim, perhaps a bit too loud, for the rest of my party now looks at me in mild contempt.

Immediately my head fills with "omlette" "hard boiled hemb?" "wee BABYS!!" and the like. Ah, good old scry-spam.

Ophelia, mute as ever, signs "right, left, wake." Oh, no. I was too loud. rats. On the bright side, though, the cart is squarely in the clearing and not on any hembs anymore. Hembs who now are unburrowing themselves and rising to glare at us with their beady eyes. Now I see why some call them armadillo-bears, even though they're completely gray and covered in stony hide. Not to mention the tails, wide and flat and long.

The one to the right of our cart is waking up faster, shaking its head free of the dust and grime. We all rush into formation, with me to the right flank, Miya and Imoln to the left flank, and Ophelia and Eyraz more to the center. Now's the time, I tell my scryers, to donate if they want to watch me more, through the shakes of the hemb's paws hitting the ground in warning.

Miya, all the way at the left of the hemb, nods, and we fly into battle. Eyraz and Ophelia taunt the hemb by baring their teeth, and Miya, Imoln and I prepare fireball spells. "Thank you, DragonDongus69" I whisper as I read the parchment and it disappears, readied. The spell donator is now booyah-ing in my mental chat, but I don't particularly mind.

Snap with my first and third fingers, blow into my first and second, I run through my head. I need to do it right or the fireball's going to come out more of a flaccid firefart.

Eyraz has now moved onto their most effective silent taunting technique, the jump-around-and-wave-obscene-signs. It works splendidly, as the hemb opens its mouth. Before it can roar and wake up the whole hembfield, though, Miya, Imoln, and I strike.

Snap. Blow. Boom.

The hemb's softest weak point is its mouth, which has been hit by a three-way fireball, killing and cooking it instantly. No more scraps for dinner. Roasted hemb, a delicacy for some, will now be our next few meals.

The hemb to the left of us, upon seeing the silent takedown of its neighbor, has wisely decided to leave us the hell alone and burrows itself back down into the dirt.

I think I'll name the egg Hemrietta.

You're a Warlock. But instead of drawing power from a higher being, people can choose to donate a portion of their magical power to you. In exchange, they can scry on your adventures and can send telepathic messages to you, as well as make requests. It can get annoying, but you make it work.

#writeblr #ripleyalamode writes #patron patreon

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manybcdthings · 9 months ago

Text

Name: Silas Dempsey

Age & Birthday: 31 years old, July 21st

Gender/Pronouns: Cis Man He/Him

Birthplace: Salem, MA

Time in Hollow Cove: tbd

Species: Air Witch - Dempsey Not-Coven

Role: Comms, Runner

Positive personality traits: Head-strong, Resilient, Gregarious

Negative personality traits: Abrupt, Impulsive, Intense

ABOUT

The Dempsey name can be traced back for generations of witches, all with a deeply connected history to Salem's dark past. By the time Silas was born, he already had an older brother and sister to show him the ropes and it became evident he needed all the help he could get. The Dempsey Coven was a sinister and cult-like experience, and Ophelia, their high witch and mother, became deranged with her so-called visions. Their entire practices were violent and brutal, and not even her three children were spared from them. If you stand all Dempsey siblings side by side, it's impossible to say who was affected worse. Each one of them a clear sign of instability, just each in different ways.

Silas was lucky, or unlucky, to be a slight blend of Trick and Blair. He gained his sister's abruptness, and his brother's taste for chemical escapism. He has both their impulsiveness, a slight taste for solitude but also an intensity that pierces whoever he meets. He's gregarious when he wants to be, sometimes generous when he needs to be but ultimately, he's simply a Dempsey through and through.

When all three of them fled their coven, Silas had no idea what was in store for him and he also didn't pull much of his weight to help them on their feet. If it wasn't for Blair helping him and Trick through a detox, Silas was sure he was ready to meet death. But, with his creepy stare, he noticed how Trick struggled with sobriety and staying clean. In turn, Silas never made his own struggle known. While Trick found a new addiction in helping others, Silas never quite found something that gave him a new sense of purpose.

Once again, Blair managed to pull them all through another dark period of their lives. Her first published book gave them a boost to their bank account, and allowed them to buy their first real home. Silas loved it until a new routine ended up happening. He never was with his brother and sister when they happened across other witches. He'd simply, mostly just be waking up, to Trick and Blair returning home with new people taking residence in their house.

Before he knew it, they were a coven but a not-coven. Silas forming friendships, real ones, for the first time in his life. Not that he shows too much love for them, like his sister, but he definitely became an annoying brother to all of them. Usually calling them at two, three, four am, demanding they let him in because Blair locked him out. Life was good and at least he wasn't as addicted to drugs as he used to be. Silas had pretty much turned his life around...into the same sort of chaos but just...improved.

When the war began, the Dempsey Not-Coven were able to lie low for a number of months until everything all came to a head. In the chaos of being discovered, Silas managed to evade capture with his brother and sister but all three of them were separated from other witches of their not-coven. Ever since, they have traveled together and searched for any trace to find their way back to their not-coven. It's been a harsh few years, and eventually they have landed in Canada but with supplies at an all time low, everything is growing tenser. Good thing that's Silas' favorite kind of situation.

#silasdempseyintro

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jenny1p-l0ve · 9 months ago

Text

A rainy day

pairing: jeongin × gf!reader

genre: fluff

summary: You and your boyfriend needed to meet,but it turns out that he arrived all wet,from head to toe.

wc:1464

wn: Please let me know if you enjoyed it!💕

Today was a big day. It was Saturday morning,and the sound of the rain wakes you up. You open slowly your eyes,the light hitting your vision. You get up and look through the window. You were unlucky. It was supposed to be a happy and exciting day,but the hard rain and the cold wind broke it. But this didn't stop you to see your boyfriend,Jeongin. This thought made you smile again,forgetting about the bad weather and focusing on the meeting with Jeongin. You two were together for one year,but you feel like you know him for an eternity. Sometimes he was immature and clingy,but that made him special. He cared about you more than anything and also,he was very romantic. He made small and simple gifts for you,but in your eyes,it was more than gold.

But in the past months,the work separated you two from each other. You couldn't meet each other,just to speak on the phone on video calls. And it felt like eternity. It felt like he was miles away from you,and sometimes you felt so lonely that you could only have a breakdown. But you stayed stronger,knowing that the holiday will come and you will see him.

And this was your lucky day. After months,you're able to see him again. His angel face with his cute smile,his big brown eyes and feel his soft blonde-brown hair through your fingers. And of course his lovely kisses that felt like heaven. You two planned to go for a walk in the park,eat some ice cream and coffee,and talk about your past few months. But the rain was imprevisible and it broke all your plans.

After you took a shower and dressed in comfy clothes,you grabbed your phone and called Jeongin wanting to know what is the new plan for tomorrow. And not after a long time,he picked up.

"Morning Y/N! How did you sleep? Did the rain wake you up?"

"Hey! Well,I slept well,but I didn't expect to see rain outside when I woke up. Do you have another plan for today?"

He thinks for a moment,before answering your question.

"I think the best is for me to come to your house. I don't want you to catch a cold or something, so you can prepare the food for us."

"But babe-" You started but he cut you off.

"No. I will be good,I promise. It isn't that bad,and I can take a taxi too. So don't worry,prepare breakfast."

You weren't sure if it was better to accept or not,but he was right. It was better for both of you,plus,you were very sensible,so you can get sick easily.

"Fine, fine. Just be careful and dress thick."

"Okay,I will. I love you."

"Love you too." And with that he ends the call. Of course you were worried but he was a strong man,so he will come fast. Instead of being lost in your thoughts,you walked to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

You thought he would like some pasta,since he will come from outside,he will need something hot to warm,but also will be a romantic moment for you two. As the time passed,the pastas were almost ready,but he didn't arrive. You started to get worried about him. You knew that he would do anything to make you happy. He will even go to another country for you only to make you happy,so he's a bit crazy,but a romantic boy so this is why you love him so much.

You looked outside,just to see the rain falling harder on the ground. You decided to grab your phone to call him since he didn't arrive for about thirty minutes. After you put the pasta on the plates,you went into the living room,grabbed your phone and called him. One call. Two calls. Nothing. No answer from him. It wasn't enough that you were worried,not that you started to be anxious too. You left the phone on the table and you started to walk in a circle in the livingroom,hopping that your boyfriend isn't that fucking crazy how you thought.

"Oh my gosh,I'm gonna beat that ass of you. God please,give me a sign."

You were sad. You put your hands in your hair,but before you could say anything,a knock at the door interrupts you. For a moment you weren't sure if you should open the door or not,but you walked towards it with small steps. With shaky hands,you open the door just a bit,pecking your head outside to see who it was.

"Innie" You were shocked,opening the door bigger. You were so happy that the first thing you wanted to do was to hug him,but you stopped. His hair,his clothes,his shoes were wet. He was wet from head to toe. But a thing that made you more curious was a rose that he was holding in his right hand,a small shy smile on his lips.

"Babe,what is wrong with you? Why didn't you answer the phone? I was so worried. Why are you fucking wet? Why are you holding a rose? Why didnt-" You started to say worried and a bit annoyed,but more relaxed now that you know he is alright,but he cuts you off.

"Y/N,I swear I will tell you everything but please let me go inside. I'm shaking." He says,his voice cracking a bit at the end,that made you chuckle.

"Fine,come. I made pasta for us so you will warm up." You sad,letting him walk inside the house. After you closed the door,he grabed your wrist pulling you closer to him,but not too close so you can't get wet either. He smiles sweetly at you and lends you the rose.

"I thought you would like it. It's your favorite flower so I wanted to make my angel happy with a small gift."

"Babe...it isn't my birthday,I don't need it. But..I can't refuse you and this little flower." You smiled,holding slowly the red rose in your fingers. You moved your attention to him,pressing a sweet peck on his lips.

"Thank you. I love it,I love you."

"I'm glad you like it. I love you too,angel!" He returns the peck before going to your room to change his wet clothes. After he changed into one of his hoodies,that you keep it in your wardrobe for anything. You wanted to ask him why he bought you the rose and why he came to your home wet from head to toe,but he was too hungry so you enjoyed looking at him,enjoying his hot dinner. After that,both of you sat on the couch in the living room,to watch a movie. In the middle of it,you got bored so you moved yourself in his lap,your chin pressed on his chest,looking up at him with a big grin that caught his attention.

"Are you okay,angel?" He asks confused and curious,caressing your hair with one of his hands.

"Why did you buy me the rose? Why you arrived wet?" You asked curiously.

"Ooh...that was it. Well first of all,after you called me,I rushed to leave my house,but when I wanted to get a taxi,I saw that I forgot my phone at home. I was too far from my house so I walked till your home. But I saw that beauty rose and it caught my eye,so I stopped buying it. And all this happened because of the rain.”

Well,all this makes sense. Now you weren't mad anymore,just happy that he is fine.

"Well... you won't catch a cold,right?" You asked,pouting.

"Of course not,baby." He smiled, pressing a lovely kiss on your lips,making you smile again.

"So you like the rose,right?"

"Of course I like it. I love it!" You said chuckling, moving your eyes for a moment at the vase with the rose. You closed your eyes,pressing your head on his chest,feeling his slow heartbeats.

"Aw,my little angel is tired."He whispered,before kissing the top of your head,and wrapping his arms around you,holding you tight and close to him.

#stray kids #jeongin #fanfic #💕

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primofate · 3 years ago

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Hi there, can I request the boys seeing you got injured or being attacked, whichever is fine ^^

Hey anon! You didn’t specify how injured but I’ll just run with it hahaha :)

Shortfic

Scenario: You got injured Part 1

Part 2 with Zhongli

Part 3 with Xiao

Characters: gn! reader x Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe

Warnings: angst, injury, no character death though

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

Taglist (Want to be notified when something new comes out? Sign up!):

https://forms.gle/VZmJXQssHcv7YzQc6

If you’d like to be extra sweet and donate, here’s my kofi link:

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

Diluc

“Master Diluc, if I could just interrupt--” one of the caretakers in the winery walked up to his office and prepared for the assault of words that could be fired towards him, sure enough, Diluc interrupted. “What is it? I’m a little busy right now, make it quick,” he hadn’t turned his face to look at the grim expression weaving in and out through the caretaker. Hadn’t bothered to look up to check if there was anything amiss, but the caretaker continued quickly “It’s Y/N,” the caretaker had only paused for a moment but Diluc had already picked his head up at the mention of your name. It was here that he realises something must have gone wrong, the caretaker’s expression was not a pleasant one. He was up on his feet, eyes widening a fraction at the following words, “They came back to the mansion seconds ago and they’ve been injured past what Adelinde could fix so we called for a doctor—”

In Diluc’s hurry he had stumbled over his chair, it tripping behind him with a thud on the floor but he ignored it and fast runs towards your room. Dear Archons he should NOT have let you go on that commission by yourself. You could hold your own, yes, but things happened and he really should have thought that through first. He was berating himself for it as he swung the door open. “Y/N?!��

The urgency in his voice tells you that he perhaps had the wrong idea of what was happening, it was really just a gash on your leg, although it was bleeding profusely, the cut must have been deeper than you thought. The maid had already placed a tourniquet to stop and slow the bleeding. You tried not to show it in your face, not wanting to alarm your lover any further, but it. hurt. like. hell. “Diluc, I’m fine, it’s just a gash,”

The maid that was previously sitting on the chair next to your bed moves away, Diluc replacing her, his eyes didn’t tear away from the wound on your leg, his expression contorted to that of worry and nervousness, before finally turning to your face, reaching a hand out to cradle your cheek. “Stop lying. You’re pale, you’re sweating--” of course he sees through you, he knows the second you get upset, knows every crease on your forehead and every slight furrow of the brow. He had memorized every inch of his beautiful, beautiful treasure. “Your hands are trembling, you’ve lost too much blood, where’s the doctor?!” He grips your hand at the realization that you might actually be in a more dire situation than presented, and just on cue the doctor comes through the door, asking for some time alone with you to do his job.

Diluc paces outside the door, unable to stay in one place for long. He kept thinking about how frail you looked. How, if you were unlucky, it wouldn’t have just been your leg. He shook his head at the thought. He didn’t know how he was going to let you out of his sight from then on. He knew full well it would annoy you to have him following you around everywhere but.... How could he not after this?

The doctor emerged half an hour later and explained that you just needed a bit of rest and that, with a little healing magic, you didn’t need the stitches at all. “Don’t let them use that leg for a day and they should be fine, it’s nothing life-threatening but they did lose a lot of blood and is going to need time to recuperate. They’re asleep at the moment,”

Diluc takes note of everything and quietly slips into your room. They must have sedated you in the process and he sighs as he plops down on the chair that was still placed next to your bed. His eyes soften at the sight of you finally relaxed and less in pain, hand reaching out to brush off strands of stray hair that blocked his view of your face. “You’re the only one who can scare me this much,” he mutters under his breath, as if complaining and he swears that he sees a very small and light grin on your face, as if teasing him. He smiles a little, just happy that you’re stabilized and leans in to kiss your forehead, opting to stay by your side till you wake up.

----------

Kaeya

“What do you mean unconscious?”

“J-Just as we said, Captain. They were unconscious when we found them,” Kaeya sighs in slight exasperation. Normally he was a jolly camper but when the knight in front of him is unable to say how injured you are, Kaeya gets a little wordy. “I meant to say why were they unconscious? Were they hurt? Where are they now?”

Kaeya stands. He was in the middle of some Favonius paper work. “They were bleeding profusely from the head,” Kaeya stops as if lightning has struck him and stares pointedly at the knight. “These details should be said early on,” he thought that it had just been something less threatening. Perhaps you had somehow passed out, exhausted, on your bedroom floor. Or perhaps had just rolled from the bed and onto the floor. They said that they found you in the bedroom, and his blood froze when he realizes that someone went in there to attack you.

Kaeya doesn’t bother talking the other knight into giving better reports next time, he’d do that later. He could guess that you were probably taken into the Favonius infirmary. Sure enough, when he walks in there, face scrunched up into what could only be described as worry and anger mingling together, you were awake, head bandaged up and your eyes meet. His heart breaks at how you still smile at him despite the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. He stands next to the infirmary bed and gingerly touches your cheek, peering into your eyes. “Y/N, what happened?” he asks, eyes scanning the bandages wrapped around you. “Who did this?” and there was that angry and cold undertone in his voice that you rarely heard, as if his cryo vision had taken over his whole being.

“I’m sorry, Kaeya, I-- I can’t quite remember,” You put a hand up to cover half of your eye, your head was still throbbing and in quick realization Kaeya eases up on you and gently pushes you on your back to rest. “It’s fine, sorry, I just--” he cuts his own speech off and takes a deep breath in. Focus on the good. He tells himself. “I’m glad you’re alright, take it easy, I’ll take care of things,” By that he means he might just slaughter whoever even had the guts to break into your house and attack you in the middle of the day. The break-in was reported by townspeople, and Kaeya was sure as hell he’d get every witness to describe that asshole’s face.

“You’re staying with me for the moment,” he decides quite quickly, and you had no qualms with that whatsoever. Hearing that you had no protest at all, he grins and leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, afraid to hurt you. “No complaints? Perhaps this was your grand scheme all along to come live with me,” You can’t help but chuckle at how quick he bounces back. “Maybe, honey. Maybe,”

----------

Albedo

“Ow--” the knife clatters to the floor, as blood starts to pool around your finger. Albedo spins around at the meek sound you make, ignoring the knife on the floor and strides over to you just as you’ve turned on the sink and started running water on the small cut on your finger.

“Let me see,” You turn to him, blinking. His face was blank. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking but he was staring straight at you. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a small cut,” but he doesn’t waver and glances at the water running over your finger. “Let me see,” he tries again, this time rather forceful. That got you to obey. Turning the faucet off and awkwardly offering your hand to him.

He receives it and cradles it in his as if it was porcelain, upturning your hand to look at the small cut on your pointer finger. It was tiny. Really nothing compared to wounds that a knight might sustain. Albedo sighs and looks up at you, “Don’t go anywhere,” before stalking off, coming back a few seconds later with a first aid kit. “...Al, it’s alright, it’s not a big deal,” Albedo would only let one person give him a nickname. You. No one else. Frankly he thought the nickname was weird but if it danced on your lips, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Y/N, you’re mistaken if you think I’m going to take this lightly,” he takes out some ointment and a small roll of bandage, starting with the ointment. “Everything and anything that hurts you is a significant thing,” his gaze darkens, as if glowering at that microscopic cut. “Miniscule or massive, it doesn’t make a difference to me,” he starts wrapping your finger, “if it taints your skin, I cannot help but feel--” he doesn’t know the right word, but you do, judging from how his hold on your wrist tightens.

A soft smile paints your features at how he was such a worry-wart. Sometimes he was so bad at navigating his own feelings but you could decipher them anyway, from his actions. You let him worry over you, and thank him once he’s done. He finishes his work by taking your hand, and pressing it to his lips, his eyes darting up to lock on yours. That made you blush every damn time. His green eyes were just so mesmerizing, and so was his heart.

----------

Childe

Dear mother of the Archons, perhaps whoever was responsible for your injuries had some type of death wish. Everyone should offer prayers for whoever had cut you up. Your arms and legs were littered with small scratches from trying to run away from the attackers, you thought going through the thick forest was a good idea. In essence, it had slowed the thieves down. They had managed to throw a fire bomb at you that severely burned your right hand, and the right side of your abdomen.

Perhaps it was thanks to adrenaline running through you that you had actually managed to make it to the gates of Liyue, just before the bridge, but you’d crumpled down right then and there. The Millelith guards didn’t recognize you, but the three Fatui agents walking on the bridge did. “Someone had better tell him,” The group of Fatuis scrambled nearer to you, one of them picking you up, but glancing at the other who had just spoken up. “I’m not doing that, you do it,” it was slightly comical, seeing them pass off the duty of who was supposed to report to Childe about it. “You know how he gets when it comes to them, I’m not doing--” then one of them finally gets their bearings together.

“Shut up, get them to the healer first,” The tallest one shoves the one carrying you, urging him to go fast and off he went. Now it was just two Fatui agents looking at each other. Two Fatui agents who decided that they would just face his wrath together. “Sir,” one of them starts as Childe turns around to look at them. He actually had no tasks today and was just about to go off to find you. “About Y/N...” Childe’s eyebrows shoot up, what in the world could these agents have to say about you? “We’ve sent them to the healers, they collapsed at the entrance of Liyue, it... doesn’t look good...”

All hell descends upon Childe’s demeanor and poise. His face darkens, his eyes burning holes through the two agents and his fists closed up on his side. His bow appears and hovers behind him, the only thing that shone through his dark person. “The two of you--” he starts, “are going to find out who did it. I’m expecting a report by nightfall,”

Childe himself shows up at the healers quarters, and was told of your condition. “Their hand is going to scar,” keeps reverberating in his head. Like the sound that he imagines the skulls of those who dared touch you crunching under his feet, over and over again. Childe actually winces when he sees you. Small bandages on your arms and legs from the scratches, your right hand wrapped up adequately and, he couldn’t see it now, but he was sure your abdomen was wrapped too.

You cracked an eye open, feeling another presence in the room. Childe immediately appears next to you, leaning over the bed and watching your expression. “...It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asks, tracing over your bandaged hand. You remained quiet for a moment before nodding your head slowly. Just remembering it caused a blinding pain in your mind’s eye. You’d been given drugs to ease the pain now, but there were still traces of it lingering on your skin. “How dare they,” both your eyes snapped open at Childe’s nearly contorted voice, shadowed and overpowered by rage.

You pick up your good hand and touch his arm with the tips of your fingers. You didn’t like it when he got like this. “Childe, it’s alright,” far from it, but it was the only reassurance you could offer. He catches your hand and brings it up to his face, pressing your hand to his cheek as if it was a lifeline. “It’s not. It’s not,” he repeats to himself, his anger also stemming from the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. “They’ll regret even laying eyes on you,” You knew he wanted to go now, knew that he wanted to get to the bottom of it, but you yet again pull your hand away to grasp at his shirt, the fabric scrunching up under your hold. “...But stay with me for tonight? Please?”

That got him. He would never say no. His form relaxes and he leans in to kiss your lips, gentle yet with a hidden hunger in them. “Of course,” he simply says, as if his previous agenda forgotten.

But he would never forget. He would never forget for as long as he could see that scar.

Tomorrow, he would decimate each and every one of them.

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lacystar · 4 years ago

Text

When Tommy died, it was void. It was the flaring, heated hurt all over his body and nothingness. Unable to see, unable to feel anything but pain. Screaming and getting nothing back; not even an echo. Feeling Wilbur and the cards in his hand, and the feeling of the other moving around him, and hearing him painfully close, but being unable to see him. Alone yet trapped.

When Wilbur died, he was shoved rudely off a metro and into a station. He paced it up and down for years, yet the stairs to the outside were firmly blocked off. Trains would pass, but none stopped. Only when Schlatt visited, which wasn't often, and only that time when Tommy came. And only when it came to take him back, of course. But it was close to agony to be passed by so many times. Alone. The world moving without him. His world moving without him.

Schlatt... has no idea what's going on. He's in the gym, but he's corporeal enough for Quackity to visit him. Sometimes he goes to see Wilbur, Sometimes he catches glimpses of the outside. He really, truly has no fucking idea what's up with him and why Wilbur is stuck in a whole other realm while's stuck all Ghostbusters'-future-victim. He knows it hurts though; heart palpitations, killer headaches... his voice has gone so rough on some days he sounds like a scratching record. His lungs are full of lead, and if he doesn't want Quackity to bring him back for the chance to taste power again, he at the very least wants it so he can stop feeling the burn in his throat.

When Ranboo dies...

When Ranboo dies he's dunked in water that's freezing, yet still burns his skin to the point of peeling in a terrible icy-hot hell. The ocean stretches to never-ending horizons without land in sight, and below him the ocean stretches to void, and all he sees is a thousand eyes staring up at him, almost unblinking. Expecting. Their stares burn almost more than the water, and his fear to keep his head above the waves to avoid seeing them is more compelling than the yell of his limbs to quit swimming, accept the burn, and sink. But after enough years... where is he? Why is he swimming? Why does he bother? Who is he, anyways?

When Tubbo dies, he wakes up in a yellow concrete box. It's not quite pitch black, but the walls give him no chance to move as his arms are pressed close to his sides. There isn't room enough to sit or do much more than turn around in place, and he can hear nothing but his own frantic, shallowed breaths as he gulps in air he feels as if he's constantly losing. He spends a few years wondering if this is his coffin and they didn't realize he was still alive when they buried him.

When Sam dies, he wakes up in an obsidian prison cell he's walked past one too many times. Theres a lectern, a clock, a pot of water, and occasionally potatoes drop down for him to eat. He stares at the wall of lava, praying for a visitor, and almost dares to empathize with the man he imprisoned when none arrive. He wonders for years if he regrets building the prison, and can never come up with an answer that doesn't make him feel ashamed of himself.

When Bad dies, he wakes up with his limbs wrapped in red vines, restraining him in a way he used to find comforting but now sees only as the torture it is as thorns dig into his skin. His vision is tinted blood red. Occasionally, a flash of blue teases his vision, but when he turns to call its name, it vanishes. He takes up swearing again; there's nobody there to hear, anyways.

When Eret dies, they wake up in their castle and left to wander the halls. Wander, but barely more than a few minutes at a time; the crown on their head weighs more than the world on Atlas' shoulders, so heavy that they often must return to their throne just to get the chance to rest their head back and let the weight off their shoulders. They wonder if the sacrifice was worth the weight.

When Niki dies, she wakes up in a crowd of people whose faces she can't quite make out. A sea of people, most taller than her, that stretches out for miles. Most smile and laugh, and she's relieved she's not alone. But when she taps on one of them and politely asks for directions to where she can get help, they stare through her. She isn't a ghost; they bump into her all the time as they shove her to walk past, but they don't see her. They don't hear. She screams and not a single head turns. When she collapses against an unlucky stranger to sob, they flick her off like she's a fly. There's not even an excuse she can tell herself to say she's alone.

When Quackity dies he finds himself falling. There is no ground in sight, only sky and clouds as his wings refuse to work and he plummets constantly into nothing. He reflects on the casino and L'manberg and El Rapids and wanting more. His stomach gets used to the lurching as the cold wind burns his cheeks. Maybe his ambition was a little pointless. Maybe he flew too close to the sun.

When Karl dies he awakes to colors that hurt his eyes and a million doorways, each in different shapes and angles. He spends years pacing and stepping through doors he hopes might lead home, that ultimately lead to only more doors. Some are too high up to reach and he stares at them and cries at the fact that he'll never know what's behind them (despite knowing its probably nothing). He doesn't remember everything; just enough to know that anywhere is better than being lost here.

When Phil dies it's a long time coming. Cursed with only one life, the universe goes easy on him. There's a field of rich grass and flowers and trees and skies that beg to be flown through. If only his wings worked. If only he could show Wilbur.

When Puffy dies she finds herself in an endless graveyard. She paces through it for seemingly decades, reading the engravings of her closest friends on each one and spending no less than year knelt at each in mourning, apologizing for her shortcomings. Maybe if she'd been a touch stronger, this wouldn't have happened. Worst of all is when the headstones are blank and she doesn't know who she's mourning at all, forever unsure of the poor soul she let down.

When Hannah dies she awakes to a world rotted away, the air polluted with smog and the seas full of plastic and sludge. Sometimes she sees a rosebush or sapling, tiny and thriving in the distance. Yet whenever she rushes over to coddle and nurture, it dies underneath her fingers. The ground wilts and cracks wherever she steps. She feels as if she's wilting with it.

When Sapnap dies, he wakes up in some sort of cage. A zoo. Figures come and stare at him and laugh as birds pick at his skin until he bleeds, wolves sink teeth into his calves to hit bone, and cows crush his ribs beneath powerful hooves. Each day a new round of animals come to have their way with him. And yeah, he thinks, that's probably fair.

When Dream dies, he's almost relieved to wake up in his SMP. Great, he can get back to business, he thinks. But the more he walks, the more he notices... how quiet it is. It doesn't take him long into his afterlife to realize the people have all disappeared. Vanished. Leaving him alone. No animals or Monsters even appear. Not a friend nor foe, not even a silverfish. The world is his to do anything with without repercussion, yet all he can do for years is sit at an old bench at a cliffside and play discs over and over until the melody burns into his head and makes him want to tear his hair out. All that over a stupid disc. He laughs until he cries.

When George dies... well, it might as well be like any other dream, he supposes.

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years ago

Text

By proxy

Platonic yandere!Kaeya & child!gn!reader

Wordcount: 2195

A.N.: My first time writing platonic yanderes, hope you'll enjoy.

It's an impulsive decision for the most part - taking you, that is.

Kaeya trudges through the Wolfendom forest, a couple of his underlings, Addler and Otto, following behind as they trail a group of treasure hoarders. Criminal gang must have known that knights are on their tail, there's no other explanation for their sudden fleeing, leaving an already broken camp behind and taking only the most valuable possessions.

It's raining and he silently curses, even if this will give him advantage in battle, but archons, it's so cold. Huge droplets fall on the ground with a resounding sound, drenching everything and turning the forest landscape deep into nigh impassable terrain. Mud clings to their feet, slowing the group down, as the Sun starts to set. Sky turns all shades of purple and red, dimming light throwing the last rays over the Mondstadt as the darkness settles, yet Kaeya and his group still carry forward through the palisade of tall trees.

“Sir”, Otto carefully starts: “It seems that criminals are already several miles away from us”.

Kaeya nods for the knight to continue, already knowing that it will be an ask to stop - the weather is hellish and the rain is one of the heaviest Kaeya has ever had to experience.

“With how strong this rainfall is, the gang's traces will be gone in under an hour”

"All the more reasons to push on and catch them then", Alberich replies, paying zero attention to Adler's slight trembling or Otto's teeth chattering. The group continues on their path through descending darkness, their footsteps hasting despite the clinging and growing fatigue.

Suddenly, as the knights make their way around the cliff, a slight whimper is heard. It's human enough to stop the group - maybe some unlucky civilian got in the way of the gang, maybe criminals left their injured one. Kaeya just nods to the pair, as Otto and Adler unsheathe their weapons, wordlessly understanding the gesture.

Cavalry captain takes a step into the forest pit with a raised sword, all sight and ears, light blue vision on his belt shining and flickering both in caution and anticipation. He walks slowly and quietly, like a cat, careful not to step on the leaves and twigs lying around, and then he sees you.

You are a child, all thin and small in the way that the sick are. There are dark circles under your tired eyes, and the scrapes all over your body. You look already dead. He runs up to you, as he sees your figure swaying and knees buckling, saving you from the fall. Your skin burns Kaeya as he carries you back to the knights - it must be fever then. You blink at him several times, saying something, but your voice is too small and weak to make out anything among the droplets falling, and then you stop, eyes rolling back and head lolling to the side. You blacked out.

He thinks about handing your body to either of the knights and then continuing to run after the gang into the knight, but then decides against it - heavy rain must have blurred all the footsteps they left. Adler almost fails. You escape your delirium a couple of times, babbling words about forest and rain and wolves, and Kaeya, despite his focus on the trail ahead, can't help but listen to what you say. It's childish nonsense for the most part, an incomprehensible product of the feverish mind, yet sometimes you say meaningful things - I thought I would die, I got scared of wolf howls, The rain was so cold.

Some small part of him shrinks and aches at these words, a long buried hurt resurfacing once again. Kaeya frowns and huffs as he tries to get rid of the images of the days long gone in his mind - rainy night, hunger, pain, cold, he will die here. His lips quirk and a humorless laugh escapes him - the irony is painful.

He drops you off at the church, concerned Barbara taking you to the hospital and Kaeya, after a brief report to Jean, goes home, his mind still stuck on the memories of days long past. You will be fine, he tells himself, the church has good healers and the orphanage is nearby. Once you get better, you’ll get sent there, where devoted nuns will raise to be another disciple.

You had a look of a deadman - a strange catatonic serenity was radiating off of you, as you looked at the captain with a glazed yet piercing eyes, both seeing him and through him. It’s cold, so cold, yet no one is here. There are hot tears on his face, wet tracks burning his skin. His tummy is empty and aching, cold bites at his limbs, but Kaeya patiently waits for the adult to return. Father said that Kaeya was their last hope, so sure he would never leave him to die, right?

Cavalry captain barely sleeps through the night, memories and inner demons eating him from inside. When he does manage to doze off, a vague picture of darkening forests and howling winds wake him up, a fervent chanting buzzing in his head - Where is his father? Where is his father? Where is his father?.

Kaeya comes to you the next day, as his shift ends, legs heading to the towering church at the top on their own. Barbara leads him to your bed, your unconscious form lying limply. Idol explains your health issues to him - fever, malnutrition, inflammation, common cold and slight poisoning. The scratches you had yesterday were healed, Barbara says, but the rest of the problems can't be easily fixed with a bit of a hydro.

"Then, what medicines do they need?", Kaeya asks, understanding the unspoken words. The Church of Favonius, despite the large funding it receives from the city's treasury, still lacks a lot of resources and materials. People are free to come and get cured, without having a single mora to pay, which means that most of the remedies disappear at an alarming rate - be it some herbal balm for aching joints or a simple linen bandage.

The idol rustles in the hidden pockets of her dress, taking out a pencil and sheet of paper and begins to write, the list grows as Kaeya’s eyebrows get higher and higher. There are dried Liyuen herbs, exotic Sumeru fruits, specially treated Snezhnayan and Fontaine tinctures and medicines.

Kaeya is taken aback for a second by the sheer length of the final list - most of the items will have to be ordered and shipped and despite his salary of the captain allowing such expenses, it’s still strange to spend so much mora - a complete stranger. Captain contemplates just leaving you there - nuns will take care of you, but the hurt resurfaces again and he sees another person lying on the small hospital bed - little him, scared and confused.

He ends up buying all the listed things, and despite his efforts not to, continues to regularly check up on you when he has time. Sometimes, Barbara says, you wake up from your slumber, enough to utter some confused noises and questions, but then you drowse off again, both sickness and medicine pulling you back to sleep.

Kaeya, to his displeasure, never catches you conscious in time, until he comes one evening, expecting to spend the time looking at you sleeping again only to see you half sitting on the bed. Your posture gets straight the second you notice him too, an expression of confusion and fear appearing on your face.

"Hello", Kaeya starts, slowly walking up towards you, keeping his posture small and voice as friendly as possible:"I am that knight who carried you here, remember?", he explains, seeing the further abashment on you face.

You nod at him, prompting him to continue:"So, I just decided to visit you to ask you how you got in the forest and why were you alone"

"Sister Barbara said that you came here almost everyday," you reply, voice absolutely flat and face having no expression. Kaeya looks at you briefly - it’s rare for children to speak in such a cold manner, you must have something on your mind then.

"Yes, I did" , he says in the same friendly tone.

"Just to know why I was in the forest?" , your voice betrays you, a hint of hurt seeping into it. Ah, that’s why you asked.

"Hm, of course no! I also wanted to see you get better" , he smiles at the end, leaning a bit closer to you. You mull over his words, thinking of their sincerity, and then a later second you say, with much less caution and guard up:

"Well I am better now and…" you get silent for a good minute:"I don't remember why I was there. I think it's because of the fever". Your voice becomes strangely controlled again - you lie to Kaeya, you didn’t forget anything. A part of cavalry captain swells and purrs, recognizing himself in you,

"Do you want to live with me?". He asks instead of trying to get the truth out of you. Your eyes shine and a surprised noise comes out of your mouth at his suggestion - something between a squeak and high pitched yelp.

His apartment isn't the best place to bring the child in - there are far too many bottles and not enough food - Kaeya lives off the takeout from the Good hunter and the skewers he grills when missions call him to leave the city walls. Nonetheless, you don’t look too disgusted with his living conditions, so he considers it a win, as he heads for the tiny kitchen to make you a soup.

It turns out a bit burnt in the end - Kaeya added too much wood to the stove, but you still gulp it down, not leaving anything and thank him for the meal. He makes a mental note to buy you a bed - right now you’re sleeping on a small couch, and clothes to change.

You are a quiet child, too fast to apologize for the smallest mistakes and wary of him when he’s in a foul mood - it gives Kaeya an idea why you were in the woods. Your days together flow slowly and steady with Kaeya falling into routine - he wakes up, makes a breakfast for the both of you, you eat it, as you shyly tell him about your newest interest or finding - a drawing, a strange bug, a shiny rock of unusual colour, then he leaves for work, instructing you to go to the neighbours if you have issues, and leaving a premade dinner for you. Then he comes back, now listening to you talking about your day - you were drawing again, or you played with the other kids, or you were running and catching the butterflies, the now dead insects left for him to look at.

It’s a mundane life, something that Kaeya thought will never please him. There is a large pit inside of him - it was growing and festering with years - Khaenri’ah, father, Diluc, Crepus, that fight. It’s ugly and snarling and thoroughly scorched, a part of his soul that keeps him awake and anxious and angry and sad during bad nights. The pit quiets a bit when Kaeya takes care of you - toys, foods, games, the same way he wishes he was treated as a child.

Crepus Ragnvindr was a nice person, he took Kaeya in, clothed and fed and kept him safe for years, yet there was always an invisible line that separated Khaenri'ahn from Diluc - warmer voice, higher expectations, more praise. Kaeya doubts Crepus noticed this truly tiny gap in treatment, Diluc for sure didn’t. Alberich did his best to ignore it, yet he couldn’t, this difference nagged him at the back of his mind, alienating him in the newfound home.

That must be why he does his best to spoil you - it's new toys and furniture and evening walks around the Mondstadt with you on his shoulders. Soon, a new rumour starts to travel around Mondstadt - about a stray being picked up by another stray. Amber seemingly forgives him for the incident with Collei, Jean gives him a raise the same month, for child expenses, she succinctly says, Albedo off handedly mentions Klee and her desire for friendships, even Lisa gives him a couple of fairytale books, warning him what will happen if he will be late to return them beforehand. Diluc doesn't comment on the irony the next time they happen to meet, but he sees some Dawn Winery workers looking after you, when he is busy with Favonius stuff.

Kaeya, for the first time in years, feels truly happy. He has family again - you and him this time and he's willing to smother you with affections. He buys you things he wishes he had, and teaches you the skills he thinks will help you in life - how to fight, how to lie, how to kill someone with words alone.

It's a strange love he has for you - never seeing you as you - but it's genuine and all encompassing. Kaeya doesn't want little him to suffer again.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #Yandere kaeya #Platonic yandere #Yandere #my writing

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heliads · 2 years ago

Text

Time Flies

Based on this request: "Father figure Steve. Female reader is in her 20’s and a Hydra experiment turned Avenger with fire powers and the alias Scorch. Her boyfriend asks her to marry him. She asks Steve to walk her down the aisle. He gives a speech at the reception and has a father-daughter dance with the reader."

masterlist

Steve Rogers sits alone in his room, wondering how time could have passed by so quickly. He’s used to it, certainly, you don’t just wake up almost seven decades after being encased in ice without having some sort of backlash.

Steve has had years now to come to terms with himself, the fact that everyone he once knew is now dead or too old to remember him. Tragedy comes with the job, it lines every corner of the life he leads. If there is one thing Steve has learned from this modern world, it’s that he can count on nothing, and certainly not having enough time to fully process everything that comes his way.

Today, though, he mourns not his own all too sudden history but the sudden switch in someone else’s story. Today, Steve went out to lunch with a young paramedic who’s dating the younger Avenger Y/N L/N and the guy asked for Steve’s permission to marry Y/N. It’s an outdated custom even by Steve’s standards, but Steve appreciates the gesture. Y/N may not actually be Steve’s daughter, but he’s come to think of her as something along those lines.

Besides, Steve can admit that he’s a little protective of the woman. Y/N L/N grew up in a HYDRA facility not far from here, experimented on and trained as a weapon instead of a human being. HYDRA always leaps at the chance to investigate inhumans, and Y/N was unlucky enough to fall into their clutches when she was just a child, too young to even remember her parents.

Steve can still remember how it felt to break down the doors of that facility and find her there. It was supposed to be an ordinary sort of mission, just another way of making sure HYDRA wasn’t able to launch another comeback without S.H.I.E.L.D.’s knowledge. Imagine Steve’s surprise when he unlocked a cell door to find a face staring back at him. Supposedly, she was a young woman at the time, but her face was lined with such horror that he couldn’t even tell her age despite his supposed century to study human expressions.

Steve has also had a century to remember the horrors of what humanity can produce when left unattended for far too long. He walked the halls of that HYDRA compound, he learned everything that their scientists and soldiers did in the name of military progress. There are horrifying facts he happened upon, names of people they will never walk or breathe or live again. Sometimes, Steve wonders if he’s truly on the right side of things, but looking at that compound, he knew he was.

Y/N came back with him after that and started living at the Avengers facility. During the first few months, Steve wondered if what they were doing was best for her. After all, weren’t they just moving Y/N from one spy/government compound to the next? Yeah, they weren’t experimenting on her anymore, and she had considerably more liberties, but the Avengers complex isn’t that much of a home. Steve can certainly attest to that.

His conscience over something so trivial as whether or not Y/N was enjoying herself was actually the main reason they became so close. Steve started booking days out, sometimes with the other Avengers, sometimes just Y/N and him. They’d drive down the coast, or wander around ghost towns, or take trips in antique markets just so Steve could fondly reminisce over cracked and aged items that he swears he remembers buying new.

At first, Y/N didn’t say a thing, just hovered somewhere in his peripheral vision, as silent as a ghost. She would watch him with the biggest eyes, as if silently daring him to do something. Still, once Steve proved time and time again that he wasn’t going to hurt her, they became friends. Now, Steve can’t imagine a time when she would possibly shrink away from him. Her joking threats of using her powers to lightly char his sneakers when he isn’t looking are all too common.

That’s another reason why getting Y/N was so important, her inhuman abilities. Steve knows S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to inhumans, but at least it’s better than HYDRA’s. Sure, they seem to have a direct pipeline from the latest inhumans to the Avengers battlefield, but they try to do good. Bare minimum, at least their inhumans don’t end up on the operating table, even if they seem to lose just as much blood fighting S.H.I.E.L.D.’s wars. Steve has his own thoughts on that.

Surprisingly, it was Y/N arriving that helped Steve fully accept S.H.I.E.L.D’s enlistment of inhuman agents. Y/N has the ability to control fire, something that’s allowed Steve to crack out a never ending list of dad jokes about sparks and fire-arms, not guns, to the point where Y/N will threaten to hurl a fireball at his head just to get him to shut up. That’s his Scorch, he supposes, temper like a switch. He only does it to get a rise out of her, but it works every time. She plays along just as well as he does.

Steve supposes that it’s their familial relationship which brought him here, contemplating life and all its choices as he ponders the wedding invitation in his hand. Y/N’s paramedic is a good guy, Steve can attest to that. He’s certainly done his research alongside Natasha to make sure of that, although he’d never breathe a word of that to Y/N.

No, the paramedic isn’t the problem. Y/N is, of course, free to marry whoever she pleases. Steve knows for sure that Y/N could defend herself if need be, and she’s long since outgrown the constraint of always having to follow orders the way she’d been when she first left the HYDRA compound. When they first broke her out, it took everything in her to drink a glass of water without being told to do so, something that turned Steve’s stomach. Now, she walks with enough confidence that you’d think she was born an heiress, not a child soldier.

The real issue, Steve can admit, is that he simply isn’t ready for the times to change. He can picture a memory from back before the ice, when he was a gangly kid, all skin and bones and too-large shoes that left his heels sliding around like roller blades. He had gone with his mother to a wedding. As far as he can recall, it was to celebrate the marriage of Bucky’s cousin, and they only got the invitation because Bucky refused to go without having at least one friend there.

Steve had like the whole thing, the aged man at the organ playing a rather funereal wedding march, the white blossoms everywhere, the scraps of cake carefully savored. He had been confused, though, over why the family of the bride had started crying the second the white-clothed woman had stepped through the aisle.

He remembers leaning over to his mother, careful to keep his voice low. “Why are they crying?” he’d asked, “Isn’t this good?”

His mother had chuckled and whispered the answer back to him. “They are happy, Steven. They’re just crying because they know life isn’t going to be the same as it’s always been, and they’re thinking about all the things that they’re going to miss.”

That’s how Steve feels at the moment, trapped in a future vision of a life that won’t be quite the same. He hadn’t gotten it then, as a kid, but he gets it now. Weddings are a joyful experience, but they signal the end of times for many good memories. Right now, Steve’s on the leaving side, and it burns at the back of his throat like a strong drink.

That isn’t to say that he won’t be punch-drunk pleased to see Y/N at her wedding. From what he’s heard, she’s already enlisted Pepper and Natasha in a whirlwind planning session, and Steve has certainly been called at all hours of the night just to ask his opinion on something. He doesn’t mind offering advice, even if it tends to be a little old fashioned out of habit.

Indeed, a few months later Steve is facing down the date of the wedding with no fewer butterflies in his stomach than the bride herself. Y/N’s already made sure that her dress is fireproof just in case something happens, although Steve doubts it. She’s got a stronger lock on her gifts than any inhuman Steve knows.

He’s stressed too, as it turns out. Despite their best efforts, no one has been able to locate Y/N’s birth parents. HYDRA has always been good at burying history, and this is no exception. So, when Y/N asked Steve to walk her down the aisle in place of her birth father, it felt right somehow. Steve has been doing his best to watch over the young woman since the day he met her, and this feels like the natural conclusion to an arc they’ve been watching since the very beginning.

That isn’t to say that he wasn’t emotional over it, of course. Steve nodded seriously and thanked her when Y/N asked, and then immediately headed back to his room so he could collect himself in peace. He wasn’t supposed to get a chance like this, you know? His dreams of picket fences and happy endings ended when he went into the ice. The way he sees it, walking Y/N down the aisle is like a beautiful afterthought he was never supposed to witness. It feels too good to be true, yet it is.

When the day of the wedding finally comes around, Steve walks Y/N down the aisle with as much stress as if he were going into battle, although he makes sure not to show it. He already had to hurriedly brush a few tears out of his eyes when he first saw Y/N in her dress. He sounds like his grandfather, talking about how fast kids grow up, but this time it’s real. Y/N doesn’t seem like a battle scarred soldier, nor the product of all of the trauma she has faced. She’s beautiful and beaming ear to ear. Steve couldn’t be more proud of her.

He mentions all this, of course, in his speech at the reception. Even as he says it, he watches the smile grow on Y/N’s face from where she sits next to her newly wedded husband. They’re good for each other, he decides. He’s known for a while, but looking at them now is just another piece of proof. Happy endings don’t come all that often around here, but he’s glad Y/N got to have hers. Heaven knows she deserves it the most out of all of them.

After extending his congratulations and pride to the newlyweds, Steve retreats back to his chair to watch the remainder of the speeches. Tony insisted on having his turn on the soapbox, something that scared all of them, but he’s heartfelt today and says much of the same things as Steve, with a few bonus recollections that even Steve doesn’t remember. It’s good, all of it. He laughs and mourns with equal fervor.

Eventually, it comes time for the first dance. Steve watches Y/N and her paramedic waltz around the room, and even though he couldn’t be happier to see them together, he can’t help but picture another dance that never happened. He went to see Peggy a few days ago, out of fear that he’d be out of town for the wedding and miss out on their usually scheduled meetings. Nothing is the same as it was, but, looking at the blessed smile on Y/N’s face, he thinks that might be alright.

The song ends, and Y/N holds out a hand to beckon Steve to the floor. Despite years of being smart and careful on the battlefield, Steve still has to make sure he isn’t stepping on the hem of her dress. Perhaps it’s the memories of another body, a smaller one with wracking coughs that used to leave Bucky terrified out of his mind even if the older boy would never admit it.

It’s funny, all of these memories weaving together on this new day. Something old, something new, Steve supposes, even just existing in him. Even when the dance ends and Steve spins Y/N for the last time, just to watch her smile again, he can’t help but feel that same surge of pride swelling in his chest. That’s his girl, he thinks. She’s going to be alright. For that matter, so is he.

marvel tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes

requested by @thornyrose463, who also made this moodboard!

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sulevinen · 2 years ago

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Awake

Summary: Lucid can’t sleep. Or she could, but she won’t. Sleeping isn’t resting, never has been. She’ll just go back to the battlefield.

Days had started to blur together. Lucid was at that point of staying awake that everything she heard turned to static half-way in the air and filled her head with incoherent noise. Her vision was blurring by the edges and it was hard to concentrate on what was in front of her, so most of the time she could only follow the silhouettes of her brothers to keep walking. Her limbs were heavy, lungs like stone, heartbeat barely detectable but it still beated in her ears like a drum.

The confusing state of existence didn’t bother her, not anymore. She was used to it. She just must not fall asleep.

Too many nights she would be sleeping, just to find herself back there. In the battlefield. Battlefield she had never stepped a foot on, but still it was a vivid and real sight in front of her, as if she was watching a film. A film where her brothers were gruesomely butchered and slain to the ground by battledroids that kept steadily marching on, unbothered by the gunfire. A film that Lucid had to take part on, stay on the move, or she would be lying on the ground as well.

Then she’d wake up.

It had taken her a long time to realize that every brother in her dreams she had once met. Seen at practice, or in the messhall, or on the platform in the rain, ready to take off to a new planet, fighting for the Republic. Grins on their faces, a twinkle in their eyes, all so quickly faded to mouths dripping blood and dull eyes unblinking, hidden behind a white armor they hadn’t had the chance to paint blue or yellow or green. Just shinies who didn’t even get the chance to tell the world who they were.

It was even more awful to realize that some of them were still with her on Kamino. Walking down the halls, talking about becoming ARC-troopers, or eating in the messhall, complaining about their new squad or sharing stories from their first mission. They were bred for war and as much as they hated the lack of choice, they were still glad to participate. To put their training and skills to good use. To become something, to be someone. But Lucid knew, before anyone else, that they never stood a chance.

Her friend Howl hadn’t had the chance. He had been so excited, parading in his new maroon armor, telling her all about his new General. Lucid had had to bite her lip and fight tears as she watched him hop on a gunship, the nightmare from weeks ago rolling vividly in her mind.

He was on board of a ship, laughing with his brothers, when suddenly they heard the blaring sirens and saw a large ship closing in, blasting a ray of electricity that made their whole world darken, and sunk their ship to the depths of space in moments of red heat and loud explosions.

Later Lucid had heard that General Plo’s fleet had been attacked by the Malevolence, and there were only four survivors. Lucid didn’t have to be told that Howl hadn’t been one of them. Because she hadn’t stopped him from boarding that ship.

Maybe she couldn’t, even if she had warned him. He had to go anyways, all of them did. It was their duty, that was their life’s purpose. To step on those ships and hope that they’d come back. But most of them never did.

Lucid felt herself floating in the air. Weightless, free, light. Like an escaped balloon or a leaf in the wind. But the suffocating darkness around her told her that she was just deadweight travelling through space, the stars and planets and nebulas twirling in front of her eyes, the distant battleships far away, out of her reach. On her right she saw troopers fighting for breath, but soon their faint cries for help died down.

Later she had heard that Anakin Skywalker and Plo Koon had stopped the Malevolence, but most of the fleet was destroyed.

More and more battles, more and more dead brothers. Cut in half, crushed, exploded, shot. All gone in awful ways, within seconds or if they were especially unlucky, sometimes hours.

Bleeding out in a room that was slowly filling with poisonous gas, suffocating in the darkness, alone, and in pain.

That by far had been Lucid’s worst nightmare.

Which is why she had decided to stop dreaming. But it meant that she had to stop sleeping. A choice she really couldn’t afford, not when her batch kept getting lower and lower scores in training and their deployement was postponed after every simulation. Because of Lucid. Because she was too scared to dream.

”Maybe you should just sleep.”

Lucid blinked herself back to the present, and looked up at her little brother. Target’s eyes were worried with a hint of pity, and Lucid scoffed at him.

”I can’t. I just… can’t.”

”Yes you can. You have to. We’re not passing our final simulation because you keep zoning out and tripping over your feet, you haven’t hit your targets all week and keep getting blasted off the battleground. You need sleep.”

”Sleeping isn’t resting”, Lucid sighed and stirred her spoon in her now cold soup, watching the cuts of meat twirl around with the soggy vegetables. Her head started feeling heavy and her shoulders relaxed at the sight of the hypnotic motion, she blinked slowly and watched the swirling water come closer and closer-

”Hey”, Lucid startled at the snap of Target’s fingers. ”This is exactly why you need to sleep. Even if it’s- ’not resting’, it is sleeping. And it relaxes your body, like the teacher said, it helps your brain reset and focus better.”

”I can’t risk it”, Lucid said, sounding more whiny than she intended. ”I can’t sleep. I- I don’t want- to dream. I always dream. I always… wake up.”

”Wake up? Like, in the morning?”, Target lifted his eyebrow, and Lucid shook her head.

”Waking up is a priviledge most of us don’t have”, Lucid mumbled to her soup. ”I keep waking up but they just keep shutting down. Like lights. One moment of pain and confusion and the second- just. Gone. Cannot wake up.”

She was stuck in an endless cycle of pain and grief and desperation, that left her hopeless and mournful in the mornings. She might’ve been back on Kamino, but the moments, the seconds she was someone else, and their feelings and thoughts and fading heartbeat stayed on her mind like a heavy blanket. If she wasn’t careful, she would end up losing herself to regret completely.

Now she couldn’t get any more regrets. If she didn’t sleep, she couldn’t dream, and she couldn’t see her brothers die. She couldn’t be responsible for letting it happen. If she didn’t dream, then she-

Would let it happen anyway.

She felt blood pumping to her ears and her lungs lost all their air. She let out an involuntary cry and started sobbing into her hands.

”Lucid- Lu- Lucid”, Target’s panicked voice sounded muffled and distant, the hand on her shoulder was like ten pounds of lead.

She was so tired. But she couldn’t sleep. She would be no use even if she was to dream. What was the point of that? She would just watch them die anyway. She couldn’t save them, she was no God. Why was she given a curse like this if her entire life purpose was just to die for the Republic. What was the point of the torture that affected her sleep, which was supposed to be an escape from reality for so many of her siblings? Why couldn’t she be granted that, a small piece of paradise. Rest.

She felt a pull of her shoulder and someone forced her to stand up, and pushed her out of the messhall. Lucid tried drying her cheeks, but the tears and the pressure in her chest would not cease, so she cried some more. Someone squeezed her arm tight and led her down the corridors, past brothers of all ages in different uniforms, past Kaminoans who attempted to stop them, past trainers that scoffed and laughed as they went by. Lucid couldn’t care less about it, but the mockery and scorn of their tone made her moment of vulnerability suck a bit more.

She was stopped abruptly and pushed towards an empty pod. She climbed on it with someone following behind her, and they slid inside the wall into complete darkness. In the privacy of the pod Lucid dared to uncover her face, and stared into the concerned and empathetic eyes of her brother.

”It’s OK”, Target whispered and pulled her close, leaning against the wall himself and letting Lucid put her head in his lap. ”I’ve got you.”

”I can’t sleep..”, Lucid tried one last time, but her brothers warm breath on her face and the gentle rubbing of her back made keeping her eyes open difficult and every objection and protest useless.

”If you have nightmares, I’ll be here to hold your hand.” Target took her hand to place a kiss on her palm. ”I promise. Now, please sleep.”

#star wars #sw #the clone wars #tcw #swtcw #star wars fanfic #fanfic #fic #kamino #clone oc #sulevocs #oc lucid #oc target #sulevofics #cw death

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years ago

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Stalker X Stalker, Part 4

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

Marinette almost missed Hawkmoth. Sure, she ended up extremely emotionally repressed, but hey! At least her opponent was stupid, at least she never had to fear losing.

But, yeah, that was why she didn’t notice the fact that chloroform was on the floor. That was way too smart for a villain, in her opinion. Wasn’t Joker supposed to be insane or something? Why wasn’t he completely stupid like Hawkmoth had been?

Those were her last thoughts before her vision blacked out.

She blinked her eyes open one time while she was being transported, but… it wasn’t enough. Her head pounded, her limbs felt like lead. She tried to pull one of her arms away from the five goons carrying her around -- she giggled at how much effort they were going through to keep a half-conscious person down -- but it was too weak to even break their grip. She wasn’t going to be getting out of the situation anytime soon.

She rested her head back against the chest of whoever was carrying her head.

Her eyes fluttered shut without her permission.

It took a while for her to be able to open her eyes again, and when she did she was almost tempted to close them. She was tied up with Red Robin, hanging upside down over a vat of acid. Decidedly not a good situation to be in. Maybe she could ignore it for a little longer…?

She buried her face in the neck of Red Robin’s suit, using the cool material as a kind of cold pack to try and soothe her pounding headache.

… wait... Red Robin!

She had a bit of protection because of her mask covering her mouth and nose and miraculous immune system, but he was a human and both his mouth and nose were uncovered! Shit!

Marinette pulled back as much as she could to check his face and see if he was okay and then cursed the domino mask blocking his eyes from her view. What she could see wasn’t good, though: the skin of his face had broken out into hives where he had come into contact with the chloroform. Ouch.

She tried just poking the good parts of his face with her nose to get him to wake up, but clearly that wasn’t working. Alright, new plan.

“Red Robin?” She whispered.

Nothing.

“Red Robin Red Robin Red Red Red Red Red…”

She was pretty sure she was doing this annoying thing right. She didn’t have siblings, how could she know?

Wait wait wait, what was that one thing that his siblings always said to him?

“Reeeeed Robin, yum~.”

Not even that got a response? Damn, he must really be out of it.

Time for drastic measures, then.

She tipped her head back as far back as it could go and then slammed her forehead against his. This evoked a lot of swearing from both parties. Apparently, headbutting people doesn’t help headaches.

When her head stopped ringing as loudly, she peeked her eyes open. “Sorry, checking to see if you were alive.”

He gave about as much of a nod as he could. “It’s… I understand why you had to do it.”

She gave a tentative smile. “Right. Still, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, then glanced down to see what they were working with. He bit his lip anxiously. “Ah, that’s not good,” he said after a few moments of consideration.

She rolled her eyes because, yeah, obviously. She didn’t say that aloud, it wasn’t productive, so she said: “I’m going to squirm. See if you can free your arms a little?”

“Do you think I have some kind of gadget in my gloves for every situation?”

“Don’t you?”

He hesitated. “I mean… yes, I do have something that could help us out of the ropes, but we are kinda over acid right now. How fast is your reaction time?”

She tipped her head from side to side with an awkward smile. “Not great.”

“Then maybe we should just wait for backup --.”

“Do you think they’ll get here before Joker does?”

“... you’re right. Start squirming --.”

“Wow, you two hate me that much? I’m hurt,” a voice cooed.

Marinette jumped out of her skin. She craned her neck to glare at Joker for scaring her…

And immediately regretted it. Why was his face not attached to his skull properly? Did he cut his own face off? Who even does that? Ew.

Red Robin scowled at him. “I can’t say we were all glad to hear you were out.”

“Red Robin...” she warned.

“Wow, not even old Batsy was happy to hear the news?”

“Nope. Didn’t say anything, actually.”

Joker’s smile wavered. “He didn’t?”

“Um, Red,” she tried again.

“Nothing,” he confirmed. “Not. A. Word.”

Joker didn’t seem to know what to do about this information. Batman wasn’t even paying attention to him? What was the point, then?

Marinette was also concerned about what was going on, but for a completely different reason. She leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Why are we trying to anger the psychopath?”

He gave as much of a shrug as he could while tied up. “If he’s talking he’s not trying to kill us.”

“And what if he gets angry enough to kill us?”

“He probably won’t.”

She winced. “Okay, I really don’t like your use of ‘probably’ there --.”

With both of their hands forced behind their backs, the only comfort he could really give was pressing his good cheek to hers. It shouldn’t have worked, but apparently life or death situations mess with your emotions.

“Just… trust me?” He pleaded quietly.

She sucked in a deep breath before turning to glare at Joker, who was still having a crisis over the fact that Batman didn’t care as much as he did. Well, she guessed that she had to take out her headache on someone. Might as well be the bitch in ugly clown makeup.

“You know, I don’t even understand why people are scared of you.”

Joker frowned and turned to look at her. “What?”

“I mean, I get why Poison Ivy is feared, I get why Mr. Freeze is feared… I even get Penguin and Riddler since they both have a high enough intellect to make up for their lack of powers… but you’re just… some guy.”

Joker gave her a cold look. “I could kill you.”

“So could a particularly determined cow, you’re not special.”

Red Robin snickered. She smiled, a little proud of herself for making him laugh.

Their grins were wiped off their faces when the rope holding them up dropped.

It caught them again dangerously close to the acid. Red Robin was a few centimeters from getting a new haircut. Marinette wondered, morbidly, whether her suit would go with her if she disintegrated.

“Not going to kill us, huh?”

“... well, I did say probably,” he mumbled, his face a little red.

She swallowed thickly. “If we live, I’m going to kill you.”

“Fair. Want to mess with him if he’s going to kill us anyways?”

“... yes.” She whipped around to glare at Joker again. “I mean, honestly, why aren’t you dead yet?”

“We don’t kill,” supplied Red Robin.

She grinned. “Sure, and I get that. I’m also not fond of murder... but is every citizen in Gotham just agreeing to not kill him? Does Batman spend all his time making sure that civilians don’t do it? Why hasn’t anyone seen him on the street and just tried to run him over?”

“... I mean, Robin hit him with the Batmobile once.”

“See?” She grinned. “And don’t even get me started on Punchline and your goons, Joker. How did you find so many people loyal to you?”

“I love him!” Said Punchline defensively.

“... sweetie, if you want a pasty white guy with green hair just watch 2016 Jacksepticeye.”

Red Robin nodded. “At least he’s kind of funny sometimes.”

“If you need the guy to be evil, how about the evil alter ego he made… what was he called?”

“Antisepticeye.”

“Ha, you’re a fucking nerd,” Marinette teased.

Red Robin blushed (or maybe that was just the blood slowly rushing to their heads from being upside down for so long) and pointedly ignored her: “Look up Antisepticeye. It’ll probably be healthier for you.”

Punchline didn’t have a retort for that. Marinette was deciding that was because she was considering it, not because she probably didn’t know who Jack/Antisepticeye was.

She pushed on: “And, hey, you goons don’t have to give Punchline over there the glory. Stab your boss. C’mon, it’ll be cool. Doubt he’s paying you more than whatever bounty is on his head, anyways.”

“If you’re going to rally henchmen maybe you shouldn’t call them ‘goons’,” suggested Red Robin.

She pouted. “But ‘goons’ sounds cuter.”

He opened his mouth to retort but she’d never know what he was going to say because, at that moment, Signal and Robin came busting in through the skylight.

Tim relaxed when he heard the glass shatter. Whether Marientte’s henchmen rallying had somehow worked or their backup had come, it at least meant that Joker and Punchline were distracted from wanting to murder them.

He struggled to crane his neck to see what was going on.

Oh. Damn. Damian was back from his angsting on the weird murder island? And he was here? Nevermind, he’d prefer Joker and Punchline. Damian was never going to let him live this down.

Speaking of Damian, a weight jumped onto their ropes and the three vigilantes became a pendulum. Tim grit his teeth tightly and Marinette let loose a long string of swears as their headaches worsened.

But, apparently, the world wasn’t done with them. Damian sliced the line at the highest point and they went flying across the room. Tim was the unlucky one on the bottom when they hit the ground, which he doubted was an accident.

Damian left them to deal with things on their own from there. Least he could have done was cut them free with his katana, but Tim supposed that was too much to wish for from the youngest brother.

He rested his head back against the cool floor for a second. He could feel Marinette stretch across his shoulder to do the same. They sighed in relief. This was the closest they had come to treating their headaches and wow was it nice.

But, frankly, resting in the middle of a fight isn’t a great idea. So, they wriggled around on the floor until he was able to flick open the tiny knife in the index finger of his gloves and cut the rope binding them without, y’know, cutting one of them instead.

Freedom! What did they do with this newfound freedom, you may ask? Scratch their heads. Turns out chloroform sucks for many reasons and one of those is that it’s a major skin irritant.

He also vomited. Thank god they’d been freed. He’d been only a few seconds away from throwing up on Marinette. He felt especially bad about that when she peeled a hand from her itching to hold his hair away from his face.

The fight was over soon enough. Duke and Damian came over to watch the two of them attempting to peel their skin off layer by layer.

“Pathetic,” chided Damian.

“Don’t be a dick --.” Marinette cut herself off, her hand flying to her mouth. “I swore in front of a baby.”

“I’m twelve!”

“Exactly: a baby.” She reached out and cupped a very affronted Damian’s face in her hands. “Look, you still have baby fat! You shouldn’t be fighting crime!”

Tim couldn’t tell if she was messing with Damian for being rude to them or if she genuinely saw him as a little kid. He wasn’t going to correct her. She’d remember he was a gremlin soon enough.

Damian wrenched his face from her grip. “If I hadn’t come you two would have been burned in acid.”

“Please, we all know Signal probably could have dealt with this entirely on his own,” Marinette waved him off.

Duke rested a hand over his heart like he was touched.

Tim rolled his eyes and pulled Marinette to him, resting his head on top of hers lazily. “We should get a checkup at the cave. Chloroform has… not nice effects and we both rolled around in it a little while fighting.”

Duke and Damian both winced, but Marinette didn’t seem all that concerned.

“I’ll be fine. My immune system is enhanced by --.”

Duke clapped his hands by her ears as loudly as he could. Neither Marinette nor Tim were particularly happy about it.

“Behold: a headache, one of the main symptoms of chloroform. Your face also has some red streaks, so don’t even try to deny that the chloroform is affecting you.”

“I take back my praise, I’ve decided I hate you,” she murmured, massaging her temples.

“I just remembered that I need the siren on my bike on to tell all the other bats we’ll need them at the cave...”

“Wait, no --.”

Marinette glared at Black Bat and Spoiler. The batboys had left the infirmary area for her own comfort and that was nice of them but she would really prefer if she hadn’t had to come at all.

Now she sat in some of Black Bat’s pajamas and one of Spoiler’s spare masks as they inspected her.

Her nose scrunched as Black Bat drew blood from her arm.

“This is dumb. I don’t need this.”

“We’ve been told. Humor us?” Spoiler said and, though Marinette couldn’t see her face from where she was, she knew she was rolling her eyes.

“I would if you were actually funny.”

“I think we can definitely put her down for irritability,” commented Spoiler.

Black Bat nodded and dutifully wrote it down. Traitor.

The cool metal of a stethoscope was pressed to her back and she cringed.

“Deep breaths.”

Marinette complied, however reluctantly. Might as well get all this bullshit over with as soon as possible.

… she was regretting that decision, now, though.

She gave Batman a cold look. “You can’t keep me here.”

“You need to stay so we can monitor your state overnight. You could have asphyxiated.”

“But we didn’t,” complained Red Robin, who looked just as annoyed about this as she was.

“We have lives, B,” she said.

“You weren’t going to do anything other than patrols tonight, don’t act like I’m tearing you away from something important.”

“The protection of the city is important,” Red argued.

“Neither of you would be much help tonight in the state you’re in, anyways.”

Red Robin stuck his lower lip out in a pout. Marinette gave her best puppy-dog eyes.

Batman wasn’t moved. “If you need something, Agent A will provide it.”

She blinked, eyes returning to normal in her confusion. “Who --?”

He disappeared into the shadows before she could finish the conversation, something she was, unfortunately, getting used to.

Marinette scowled at where he had last been.

Maybe she should have expected this, maybe if she had been less out of it she would have. They had given her pajamas when she’d had clothes and insisted on cleaning her old ones ‘for chloroform’. The checkup might have been a genuine checkup on her state, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered what the results were. She was always going to end up staying the night in the cold, dingy cave filled with bats.

She sighed and laid back against the stone floors. She heard Red Robin groan and looked up to see he had been locked out of the Batcomputer for the night. He leaned back in his chair and mumbled curses.

She giggled at his distress and, despite himself, a tiny grin poked at his lips.

“Want to race to see who can hack into it first?” She suggested.

He raised an eyebrow at her under his domino. “Think you can win?”

“Considering I don’t know that much about hacking, I’m going to say probably not.”

A wide smile spread across his face, now, and he waved her over. She took a seat on the desk beside the keyboard and he started teaching her everything.

Most of what he said, while technically heard, wasn’t exactly understood. She couldn’t concentrate. It was the first time she had seen him in anything but his vigilante suit and she decided that that was a crime because he looked so cute in the Batman-themed pajamas. Furthermore, the way his long hair was pushed back by a headband to keep it out of the green paste spread over his face to alleviate the chloroform’s rash reminded her of a spa day in all those movies.

And then there was the smile. It made her heart flutter in her chest because she was so used to his grins but this was just a genuine smile. He looked so passionate about the intricacies of cyber crime. She was almost sad about the domino hiding his eyes because she wanted to see the way they lit up while he explained different ways viruses could be accidentally downloaded to devices.

Basically, she was a mess for this random cute guy she worked with. She had never seen him so casual and at ease and it felt far more intimate than it maybe should.

She rested her head on her hand, nodding along as he talked about data encryption versus decoding.

Well, maybe a forced sleepover in the Batcave wouldn’t be so bad...

Tim was suffering a lot more than he would ever admit, and only a small part of it was due to chloroform.

He was going to be having a sleepover with one of his idols and he was going to be spending a large amount of the time trying not to throw up. And she could totally tell, too, why else would she be watching him so intensely? Someone kill him, please. He was so glad he had a secret identity because he didn’t know how he would manage if she thought Tim Drake-Wayne was a loser.

Granted, she was going to think Red Robin was a loser... but at least he had a second chance as Tim.

He rested his chin on the back of his chair. He had hacked into the Batcomputer already but it was a relatively dull night out on patrols and he wasn’t eager to be yelled at for showing Marinette some files on top of already hacking into them when he wasn’t supposed to.

“Wanna do something?”

She grinned. “Is there anything to do here other than train?”

“... nothing approved.”

She tipped her head to the side. “And of the things that aren’t approved?”

He matched her grin. “Well…”

And that was how he ended up setting up a movie projector in the cave so they could watch Groundhog Day. Marinette had taken to making them a pillow fort.

Duke stumbled down the steps, half awake, and raised his eyebrows at them from behind his domino. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that they had made and took a long sip before sending the two of them a wary look. “Do I want to know?”

Marinette didn’t look up from her and Tikki’s base construction. “Dunno. Do you want to watch Groundhog Day with us?”

He frowned. “Isn’t that the one where that guy in a time loop stalks his co-worker until he knows enough to make her fall in love with him?”

“Just say you don’t like romcoms and go,” Marinette irritably.

“I’m fine with romcoms, it’s just… a little messed up that he uses the knowledge he gets from being in a time loop to ensure she falls for him?”

“It’s a story about self-improvement,” Tim said, sending his brother a glare. “He grows as a person until he is worthy of her love.”

“Him learning about her is part of his arc. He starts off selfish and he ends it with a deeper appreciation for other people,” agreed Marinette.

Duke held his free hand up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Enjoy your stalker movie.”

“It’s not a --,” Tim tried to argue, but Duke was already heading back upstairs.

He huffed a little and finished setting up the computer and projector, then took a seat in the pillow fort. She poured each of them a cup of coffee, put a straw in hers to maintain her identity, and then took a seat beside him.

He took it from her with a bright smile and turned on the movie.

She rested her head on his shoulder as the happy-go-lucky music started up.

Unfortunately for them, they didn’t manage to stay awake for all that long. Duke had drugged the coffee pot.

Marinette shifted awake a while later and promptly decided that being awake sucked.

Nothing about her current situation sucked, of course. At some point during the night they had fallen asleep and now she was laying half on top of Red Robin, clinging to him like a koala. He didn’t seem all that upset about it, though, with his arm wrapped around her and his face buried in her hair.

Unfortunately, the time on the bottom right of the Batcomputer’s screen told her she didn’t have much time to enjoy it.

She started the slow process of extracting herself from him. Getting the arm off of herself was easy, getting his face away from her head was much harder (this wasn’t helped by the fact that the paste on his face had stuck to her hair).

There was one scare where she thought he was going to wake up. She pushed herself off of his chest and he took a long breath in. Marinette froze, watching his lips tighten… and then he turned over in his sleep.

Oops, apparently she’d been suffocating him a little in her sleep. Sorry, Red.

Well, at least she was free now.

She slipped out of the pillow fort and glanced at the time again.

Even less time to do what she needed. Because that’s how time works.

She sighed and called Tikki over with a tiny wave of her hand, walking over the edge of the railing. She looked down at the abyss that stretched many feet below.

Tikki couldn’t have looked more disapproving if she tried.

“It’s just a little insurance,” Marinette signed.

This didn’t make Tikki any less upset with her, but she hadn’t really expected it to. She signed for her transformation. She tied herself to the railing with her yoyo as a precaution and then hooked her legs around the railing.

And down she went.

She flexed at an awkward angle, flashlight in her mouth, and stuck a tracker to the bottom of the platform.

And, really, she wasn’t intending on using it. Like she said, it was just insurance. They had drawn blood from her earlier and she knew for a fact that it wasn’t necessary for chloroform inhalation. The only reason that made sense for that was that they wanted to check and see if she had inhaled some but they already knew that so… what did they want with her blood?

She was willing to bet it had something to do with her secret identity. And, hey, she didn’t particularly care if they knew her identity, she trusted them, but if it ever got out because of them revealing then who the bats were would be 1) revenge and 2) a good distraction.

“Hey --?”

Thank the kwamis she had tied herself to the railing because she’d been surprised enough to let go of the platform.

“Shit, sorry!” Said Red Robin.

She pulled herself back up onto the platform with his help and then collapsed on the cool stone. She spat the flashlight from her mouth. “Fuuuuuuck, don’t do that again, please.”

“Sorry,” he said again. Then he glanced back at where she had been and, momentarily, his lips pulled into a frown. “I gotta ask: what were you doing?”

“Hm?”

Shitshitshit.

“Oh, I wanted to see if there was anything down there or if it was just for The Aesthetic.”

“Why not just use your yoyo to go down?”

She shuddered. “The flashlight barely did anything. Would you want to go down into that darkness with no clue even how far down it goes?”

He seemed to accept the answer. “It’s an old iron mine. No one uses it anymore, though.”

She nodded her understanding.

She pushed herself back up to a sitting position and looked at him.

“The bats don’t get back for a while and we’re still on lockdown, so… want to do something?”

Damian was the first one to get home. Apparently he had broken a leg on patrol. This was fine (well, maybe he shouldn’t have been driving himself, but whatever).

What was not fine was that he had promptly decided to be an asshole.

Tim and Marinette had been playing Minecraft on the Batcomputer and, like all younger brothers, Damian asked to play.

And, like all older brothers, Tim barely looked up from his controller to tell him: “No.”

Damian looked to be on the verge of a meltdown.

Marinette sighed and sent Tim a tired look. “Red, don’t be mean. He’s just a kid. There’s more controllers, we can just give him one.”

“But…” He started. Damian was a terrible partner to play Minecraft with because he never helped out with anything except for the farm.

However, Marinette was looking at him expectantly. Tim bit his lip, considering.

Damian looked between the two of them and a wicked grin spread across his face and oh no.

Damian took a seat next to Marinette and gave her puppy-dog eyes (a real feat, considering the fact that he was wearing a domino and therefore his eyes were invisible). “Miss Ladybug, can’t you please make him let me play?”

Marinette gave Tim a tired look. “Red, c’mon, just for a bit.”

Damian smirked a little but, by the time Marinette turned back around, he had schooled his face back into a pout.

She handed him her controller. “You can have mine. I’ll find another for myself.”

The two watched her leave and Tim sent his younger brother a glare. “I can’t believe you would embarrass yourself this much just to play a game.”

“Anything to annoy you, ‘big bro’.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but then Marinette came back and all he could do was send him a glare behind her back.

Damian retaliated by sitting himself on Marinette’s lap. She looked down, amusement making her eyes crinkle, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge it. Damian smirked and stuck his tongue out at Tim.

That little shit.

And it continued on for hours while the three of them waited for the rest of the bats to come back. Damian would cling to Marinette in some way and he would become the bad guy for glaring at a child. He was seriously considering breaking the No Killing Rule for this kid.

Finally, though, people started coming back and apparently Damian thought it too embarrassing to do such a thing in front of more than just the person he was trying to annoy because he clambered off her lap to play just a little bit away.

Bruce was the last one to come in and he looked at his kids with the patented Batdad Glare because they had managed to drag Steph into playing with them (without much effort) and Cass into watching (with much more effort). Which meant that there were currently five family disappointments. Yay them.

Tim smiled innocently. “What? We got bored. Maybe you should let us out so this doesn’t happen again.”

“I’m keeping you here for your own safety.”

Marinette and Tim both groaned.

“I have work to do.”

“Me, too.”

Bruce didn’t relent because he was a stubborn asshole.

But that was fine. They really hadn’t expected them to. Tim glanced at Marinette and she twirled her index finger against her flat palm, the sign for ‘start’.

One flash and smoke bomb later, the two of them were running as fast as they could to his bike. He grinned as he helped his giggling friend get on and hopped up himself. Arms wrapped around him tightly and her face buried in his back. They tore out of the cave, giggling all the while.

#stalker x stalker #maribat #timinette #timari #shutterbug #timmari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake #theyre paranoid bastards your honor

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mrs-cavill-wife · 3 years ago

Text

Safe And Happy (One Shot)

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Reader (Barbara)

Warning: Language. Fluff. Minor Injury. Zombie Apocalypse. Gun shot. Persecution. Please, say if I miss something.

Author's Note: My second fanfic, YAY! Henry is not a celebrity in this fanfic. Duh! It's a zombie apocalypse so it's kinda obvious but I wanted to say it anyway. Hope you guys enjoy it and reblog if you do. I'm all ears to feedback!

Tag List: @lexyvaldez26 @thereisa8ella @natura1phenomenon @mrsavery @number1chonie @themanfromu @littlefreya @legendarywizarddetective @lovingbearherringhairdo @zealoushound @deangal-101 @everydaymultifandom @summersong69 @jgtfvhsg @tellingyouastory @sillyrabbit81 @nuggsmum @pussyverson @oh-for-fic-sake @foodieforthoughts @fanficlover91 @r-t-doll @its--fandom--darling @poledancingdinos @hlkwrites @rmtndew

Summary: The world is a dangerous place now, but in the arms of the man she loves, she always finds security.

Barbara's P.O.V

Shit. I miss when the world used to be good. It was never perfect but no doubt it were way better than now.

An zombie apocalypse, who could have imagined that this could actually happen? Who knew that one day I would be armed, with a "beautiful" wound on my leg, hiding in an abandoned store, running away from a horde of about fifty zombies, crazy and thirsty for some human flesh.

I got hurt entering here, there was a piece of wood that grazed my leg, but luckily I had some bandage on the bag, I tied it to my leg to stop the blood. I looked at my leg and sighed, frustrated with myself.

"What the fuck dressing did you do, huh? My man is going to be pissed"

I live with my boyfriend, well husband, wasn't exactly official but we are together, he's amazing with dressings, but of course, I never pay attention when he tried to explain it to me. I'm hiding, trying to calm my breathing and think of a new plan, I don't know if I'll be able to run with my leg like that, but I think partially, it's really my fault. I'm often on those situations, I have my skills but I might not be the best, I still remember when I meet my boyfriend, on this type of shit cliche situation, today I don't complain for being dumb back there..

We met a year ago, I was running away.. again. I remember going into a dead end street, my gun had only two bullets left, I managed to kill some of those brain eaters, but I had about ten still behind me. I was already out of breath and couldn't think of anything else.

It was all very fast, suddenly my hero appeared, super skilled, I can't say where he came from but he managed to cut the heads of some of them, cut one in half, he stopped in front of me and fired with a super powerful machine gun, spilling a little blood and a disgusting substance on both of us.

"Hey are you alright, princess?"

He spoke to me after all those butchers fell dead. I was in shock but in seconds, I regained consciousness and was able to notice the man in front of me.

Broad back, fair skin, incredibly neat curly hair, a sharp jawline that could cut my soul, kissable lips.. a beautiful ax, a weapons in the waistband and at least two powerful shotguns in the back. The sun was setting and the light reflected in his eyes. The brightest blue eyes I had ever seen. There was a small brown part in one of them, I had heard about cases of heterochromia, but it was the first time that I saw it right in front of me.

"Your eyes are so beautiful.."

He laughed softly and a little shy. The sweetest laugh I've heard. Oh God, he's so wonderful, I think I died and went to heaven and that angel came to receive me. Maybe I'm not too unlucky after all.. wait, what did I just said? Oh fuck, what a good way of cause a first impression. First you almost die then act like a dumb ass needy teen. I rolled my eyes realizing what I done and he touched my arm.

"Thank you, you're beautiful too.. but are you hurt? What are you doing all by yourself?"

I nodded looking down and blushing red like a tomato.

"Huh I'm fine. I was searching for a place to stay. I heard on radio there was a small group of survivors around here. I'm always alone, so I decided to look for it but I obviously didn't payed attention on the munition I had before risking my butt."

He giggled and soft touched my cheek, wiping away some of the dirty. Gosh, I'm not going to handle and he's not making it easy..

"So it's your lucky day, pretty girl. I am from that group of survivors. They always told me to go round and look for possible new survivors."

I looked at him frowning.

"Now it's my time to ask. All by yourself? Why?"

And he smirked, looking like a made a silly question. Your hot bastard.

"I'm a prepared person. Not bragging but I always check my munition"

Touchee. I crossed my arms looking at him, trying to keep my posture but I was really melting inside.

We heard a loud noise, making us concerned. He grabbed my hand and started walking.

"It doesn't seem far, we must walk. Let's go"

"Where are you taking me? I.. I don't even know your name?"

I stopped moving and he stopped looking a little mad then he sighed.

"I will take you to our shelter. I saved you, you can trust me. We both need a bath and some rest.. and I'm Henry."

He said smiling and I nodded starting to walk by his side.

That day, he took me to the survivors. There were at least four people, some couples and children, all of whom welcomed me very well. But despite that, I thought about leaving the next day, I was always alone and until then, it was how I wanted to be and I would be like this today, if Henry hadn't insisted that I stay. I said I would stay for some days but during that, he convinced me to stay for more weeks and when I realized, we were closer than ever. Actually, those days made me found love. One of the guys of the shelter was a priest before the world was destroyed, Henry and I decided to get married and so it happened. Simple but a beautiful ceremony.

After a few years, we both decided to leave, maybe it was not a smart idea in the current situation, but we were certain of it, so we did. It was difficult, at first from hiding to hiding, sleeping on uncomfortable places, sometimes without enough food for both, we almost died a few times but together, yes, we were unbeatable. But finally, we got a place, safe enough to call home.

Henry's P.O.V

One hour left. I trust her, she's a little clumsy but my girl knows what to do, I taught her some tricks when we met but still, my heart is desperate. Today I received a radio message, it was Stuart, a partner, we have known each other since I was part of a group of survivors, he provided us with food, ammunition and weapons from time to time, even now that I am no longer part of the group, he's a great friend. I always went to get it, alone, I didn't want to risk seeing my Barbara hurt. But today, Stuart said he couldn't come, because of some injuries, so I would have to go, but Barbara decided that her chance to do it this time.

"Barbara.. baby, you don't have to.."

I remember I said trying don't sound like I was doubting her capacities.

"Well on my mind, I do need. You always do that, I feel useless, I'm no princess in danger, i can do that"

I got closer touching her back while she packed her bag with "travel" supplies. She looked at me, touched my face and smiled. I love this smile.

"I'll be alright, I know that area is dangerous but you know I know the way and I had a good survivor teacher"

She said and wrapped her arms around my neck and I hugged her feeling defeated. She never had to say much to convince me of anything. I know she was feeling bad about me doing the hard work and I think she deserves a chance. I need to show I really trust her.

"I will be counting the seconds.."

I sighed and she smiled widely packing my lips many times. She grabbed her bag, her gun and went through the door but before leaving she looked at me one last time.

"I love you"

We both said at same time, making our hearts beat at same rhythm.

She gonna be alright, I know.. at least I hope.

Barbara's P.O.V

I heard a small noise that made me wake up. I dozed off for a while when I expected the horde to calm down and preferably leave. I got up and checked outside by one of the windows. Empty. Thank God. My leg didn't hurt so much anymore, but the fact that the street was clean was a relief to m. I wouldn't have to run, just be careful.

I opened my bag and ate a chocolate bar. Stuart wasn't lying when he said that had good things this time, I got things I hadn't ete in years. I left the store quickly after eating and started walking my way back home.

I was almost closer, I smiled seeing my home. Finally, safe house. when I got on the home's street, had three zombies, between me and my house. Great.

I tried to carefully pass behind them, I was almost there, but again, I didn't pay enough attention, I tripped over something and fell to the floor, over my injured leg, I couldn't contain the scream. They heard and were already walking towards me. F U C K M E.

I looked at my house. It's not so far, I can do it. I ran, fast as I could, my leg was hurting a lot, the bandage already red with my blood but I did it. I could climb the special secret passage through the wall and done. I layed in the grass for a second trying to recover my breath, closing my eyes, finally feeling safe then something fell on top of me. I got scared until I could open my eyes. A beast. A fluffy beast.

"Hey Kal, you scared me baby"

I hugged the big black and white American Akita. It's mine and Henry's dog, our loyal companion, our dog son. We found him on our away to find a new safe place, he were a little injured on the front paws. Of course we felt in love with him and took care of him, we had to keep him and we did.

I petted him a little more before getting up.

"Alright, mommy needs a good break now. Promise to play later. Where's daddy? He had a heart attack?"

Oh he will when see my situation. I walked to inside our house and pulled the food supplies on the kitchen. I was focused until I hear the shower on bathroom upstairs. I smiled.

"What a good way of relax, huh?"

I walked upstairs, taking off my clothes though the way. When I opened the bathrooms door, I was fully naked. Oh that vision. My man, all naked.. that furry defined abs, those strong muscles.. that round booty.. and that big veiny dick, shit, even soft he's huge.. I'm so freaking lucky.

I licked my lips and tried to close the door softly but i ended up making noises.

"Thought I had told you need to be stealthy"

When I turned around, he was looking at me, with those gorgeous eyes that left me speachless since first time. Then he's face changed to worried and I realized he were looking at my wounded leg.

"Barbara, what the fuck just happened?"

I rolled my eyes then got into the shower with him. Before he could say something, I kissed him softly. He kissed me back of some type of way that I could feel how worried he were. Was a intense kiss, our tongues battling against each other, oxygen wasn't this necessary for us at this point. He quickly grabbed me tight and gave me a little boost then I had my legs wrapped around his waist. We ended our kisses with soft pecks and smiles. I looked at him. He had one hand around my back and another softly rubbing closer my wound.

"Hey are you alright, princess?"

I smiled way more with his soft voice and nodded.

"Yes, now I'm safe and happy"

#henry cavill one shot #henrycavill rp #henry cavill #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you

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