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finn-m-corvex · 1 year

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Aftershocks Pt. 1 - Cole

The first of the stories that you all voted on for October's poll! Since the poll tied, I said that you guys would be getting TWO stories on the same day instead of just one, and that's still happening! This one will be going up in the morning, and then Falling Sleeves will be going up in the afternoon, so I hope you guys enjoy this double-whammy. Lightning in a Cubicle Pt. 3 is also going up tomorrow just in time for DR Pt. 2!

Words: 3.7k

TWs: sensory overload stuff, vomiting mention but nothing graphic, lots of fluffy moments bc it's Whumptober and I can do that kinda stuff.

Jay shivered where he stood in the kitchen, reaching up into the cabinet to grab a clean glass so he could get some much-needed water. He ignored the way his vision suddenly tilted to the right, gripping the countertop in an effort to stay standing against the wave of vertigo that threatened to draw him under. Nausea rolled through his head, and it took everything in him not to duck his head into the sink and throw up every bit of bile in his body.

This sucked.

He reached up to try and rub circles into his aching temple before recoiling, blue sparks trailing from his fingers as he drew them away. Instead of trying again, Jay just shoved his hand back into the hoodie's large pocket with a defeated sound. Guess that little trick of his wasn’t going to work this time, which would of course make this a thousand times more miserable.

Skin crawling from the scratchy t-shirt he had on, Jay ignored the way the hoodie felt uneven on his shoulders no matter how many times he readjusted it. His socks felt like they were suffocating his feet, and the hair stuck to the back of his neck with sweat made him feel claustrophobic; the only thing not bothering him at the moment were his pants, but he wasn’t sure how long that was going to last. At the moment Jay wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed on fresh sheets in nothing but his boxers, wrapped up in his favorite weighted blanket and sleeping the day away. Except he couldn’t do that, because then he would have to explain his current predicament to the others, and he did not feel like playing a game of twenty questions when he was feeling this sucky.

Definitely overdid it on the last mission, he thought to himself as he finally snatched the glass, shuffling over to the sink to fill it. The motions sent familiar waves of pain radiating through his legs, pins and needles burying themselves deep into his skin. Jay turned the sink on, and immediately had to turn it off because when did it get so loud?

Preparing himself properly this time, he filled his glass, even if the sound of the rushing water made him want to smash his head into the wall. He raised the glass to his lips, taking a very shaky sip of water; it was the first time he had drank anything in a day and a half.

First Master, he wanted a hug. He wanted a hug so badly. A tight one, a loose one, even a side-hug, he would take anything at this point.

Why were his hands shaking so bad? He knew why, of course, but he was going to ignore the problem for as long as he possibly could. Part of him wondered if he could make it to the laundry room and grab his compression gloves without the others noticing; those would definitely help. Zane had insisted on washing them after their last mission since it had involved quite a trek through the muddy woodlands of Primeval's Eye, and the gloves hadn't escaped unscathed.

His plan of ignoring all of his ailments was shot down pretty quickly when Cole came strolling into the kitchen only a minute later, flicking the light switch that Jay had intentionally left alone.

The blue ninja gave a small cry, free hand tangling itself in his hair as his vision whited out because ow ow ow it hurts it hurts-

Cole quickly turned the lights off, and Jay was left gasping for breath at the counter as his vision came swimming back into focus. It was a miracle that the glass hadn't slipped from his fingers and cracked on the floor. The hand buried in his hair started tugging in distress as Jay's barely contained panic threatened to rise to the surface, lightning struggling to leap from his body into any available surface willing to ground it. Why did his element always have to act up at the worst of times?

"Jay?" Cole asked, and Jay flinched because why was he talking so loudly? "What are you doing in here with the lights off? You okay?"

He put the glass down onto the counter, leaning on his elbows over the sink. He wasn't entirely sure if he was going to throw up or not. "Headache."

The earth ninja made a small concerned noise that made Jay want to cry; Cole was definitely upset with him. "You overdid it on the mission, didn't you?"

And he was not in the headspace to be lectured; he was barely coherent enough to think of basic sentences. "Not right now, Cole-"

"You told us when we got back that you would be fine!" Cole continued, "But you weren't, were you? I bet you got home and thought you could take care of it yourself but-"

Jay pitching forward into the sink with a strangled gagging sound was not what the ravenette was expecting to happen, but he quickly adapted to the new situation. Jay's fingers kept tugging on his hair so hard that it started to hurt, and the extra stimulation just made the lightning in his gut even stronger as it responded to Jay’s distress. Skin crawling, Jay’s fingers went to itch at the skin on his forearm, hoping for any sort of sensation to distract him from the pounding in his head.

"Stop it, Jay, that's not helping. Here, I gotcha,” Cole quickly did his best to break the vicious cycle, untangling Jay's hand from his hair and replacing it with his own larger one. He wrapped his arm around the front of Jay’s torso, frowning at the intensity of the smaller ninja’s shaking.

The blue ninja only sunk into Cole’s hold, shoving as much of his body weight onto his brother as he could. Somehow, Cole’s touch made the crawling so much easier to manage, and now Jay wanted nothing more than to be in his brother’s arms for as long as he wanted.

Cole squeezed Jay tightly. “I think you need to lay down, Sparky. C’mon, we’ll go to the couch.”

Except Jay couldn’t move. He whined when Cole tried to pull him away from the sink, knuckles going white with the force of his grip on the counter’s edge. Cole winced in sympathy when Jay vomited again, the sound of his gagging echoing off of the small kitchen walls as nothing came up (that was concerning in itself). He rubbed his brother’s back comfortingly, his hand in the auburn hair working to keep Jay’s bangs out of his face.

“Thank you,” Jay panted softly, spitting into the basin with disgust.

“Anytime. You really don’t feel good, huh?” Cole said softly, grunting as Jay nearly collapsed onto him.

“What was your first clue?” Jay snapped, even though he knew it wasn’t Cole’s fault he was feeling like shit, it was his. Reaching behind him and wincing from the feel of the fabric under his fingers, Jay drew his sweatshirt hood up and over his head, even though it did nothing to muffle the small sounds around him and only made his claustrophobia so much worse. Hurray.

Cole just hummed, still carding through Jay’s hair and lightly running his nails along the blue ninja’s scalp. He was more than experienced enough to know when to interfere and when to just let things slide. Jay closed his eyes and let some of his excess lightning course through his body; he knew it wouldn’t hurt Cole and he needed it out. Some of the tension finally bled out from his shoulders as the invisible pressure relieved itself, his body no longer having to work overtime to keep his powers in check.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, blue lightning humming across his skin as Cole gave Jay time to catch his breath and dispell some of the dizziness from being upright for too long. “Are you okay to lay down now?”

“Yeah, I-I think so.”

“Bed or couch?” Cole asked, and Jay had to think about it for a minute. The couch was closer, but the bed…

“Bed, please,” he said quietly. He wanted the comfort more than anything else right now; if he couldn’t fix it, then he would have to ride it out.

“I gotcha, buddy,” Cole said softly. “Come on, I’ll carry you so it’s easier. Just don’t throw up on me, alright?”

“No promises,” Jay groaned, clutching at Cole’s shoulders when his brother started to lift him up. Cole hooked one arm under Jay’s rear to hold him, the other hand going to rub in smooth strokes across the blue ninja’s back. The motion was achingly familiar from all of the other times that the two of them had been in this situation, and Jay just huddled closer to his big brother when he felt the tears stinging at his eyes.

Here was the hug he had wanted so badly, and Jay wouldn’t trade it for anything in the whole world.

Walking back to the bedroom was a much smoother ride than it would’ve been if Jay had tried to go back by himself, and suddenly he was grateful that at least one person knew about his predicament. Cole knew the drill, keeping his steps as even as he could and swinging Jay as little as possible as he went. He knew Jay would do his damndest to keep his bodily fluids to himself even if Cole wasn’t being careful, but Jay was already having a rough enough time as it was.

The earth ninja squeezed his little brother just a little tighter, hoping the extra pressure would bring him some peace of mind.

Opening the door to the bedroom with a well-practiced movement, Cole made sure to flick the lights off before checking to see if anyone else was inside. It was empty; everyone else must still be outside training. Cole already knew that he was going to have to send a message to the groupchat about Jay’s condition, even if he knew that the blue ninja would have something to say. Jay always did; it was one of Cole’s favorite things about him.

Putting Jay down on his bed after moving the covers, Cole was quick to shut the black-out curtains over the window. They were something he had invested in a long time ago when Jay went through his first sensory overload and they had proven themselves useful time and time again. “Do you need anything?”

“New hoodie?” Jay groaned, sitting up and starting to peel his current hoodie off; he couldn’t stand the texture anymore. His shoulders ached from the movements, throbbing uncomfortably as he laid his head against the pillow. Even the small movement aggravated his blossoming migraine (pretty sure that’s what it was turning into), and he was more than grateful that Cole had closed the curtains before the sunlight could do very much damage.

“I’ll do you one better.” Cole dug around in his drawers, snatching up one of his softest hoodies (Jay’s favorite) and a simple black shirt. Turning around, he threw Jay’s old hoodie into his laundry basket; it would end up back in Jay’s hands eventually.

“Touch okay?” Cole asked, sitting down on the bed.

“Yeah,” Jay whispered, hand brushing his bangs out of his face. He could feel the subtle heat of his fever from his forehead; it was a sure sign that his lightning was still acting up, “please.”

Cole didn’t waste any time in stripping Jay out of his soaked-through shirt and putting the new one on, and he snickered at how large it was on his smaller brother. The thing practically came down to the blue ninja’s knees, and Jay was more than happy to tuck his legs under the hem, leaving just his feet poking out from the bottom. He shouldn’t have felt so much satisfaction from the new position, but that’s ADHD for you.

The earth ninja sighed. “How many times have I told you to stop stretching out my shirts?”

“Don’t care,” Jay replied half-heartedly.

“I know,” Cole said, shuffling down to be next to his brother. “You know I don’t really mind. Now how are we doing this?”

Jay bit his lip, feeling his face flush with shame as he popped his legs back out. How old was he? Certainly old enough to be able to take care of this himself. His anxiety flared, and Jay quickly found his breath running out and suddenly he was struggling to breathe because First Master what was he supposed to do when his brothers weren’t there and he would have to do this alone-

Until strong arms settled around him, drawing him into Cole’s larger chest with one of his legs thrown overtop of Jay’s. Jay ignored how he could feel every one of the earth ninja’s leg hairs, instead focusing on the rise and fall of Cole’s chest against his back and how pleasant the fabric of the new shirt felt against his sensitive skin.

“Breathe,” Cole told him gently, hands going to Jay’s belly and rubbing in soothing circles. The knot in Jay’s stomach slowly started to come undone. “I don’t mind, seriously. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be here. Do you need me to lay on top of you?”

Wordlessly Jay nodded, and Cole was quick to shift positions so that he was directly on the blue ninja. As soon as he stopped moving, Jay felt like a weight had lifted off of his chest, ironically enough. Cole chuckled when he felt his brother relaxing, reaching up to lace their fingers together and cross his ankles on top of Jay’s. Jay always told Cole that he felt like the world’s best weighted blanket, large and warm and heavy enough to be grounding but not suffocating (even if all of the others would disagree). Exhaling, Jay felt himself relax even more when Cole reached and pulled the blankets over both of them, making sure to tuck them up so that it was like a little tent for Jay. This was already so much better than how he felt in the kitchen.

“Okay?” Cole asked, and Jay hummed in agreement.

“Yeah.”

“Good, now how about you get some sleep, huh? So you’re a bit less of a grouch?”

Shutting his eyes, Jay was more than content to let his brother’s breathing soothe him and the insult slide, the rhythmic inhales and exhales like a soft lullaby in his ear with Cole’s heartbeat to accompany it. Wishing Cole a soft goodnight even though it was the middle of the day, the blue ninja fell fast asleep to the feeling of Cole tracing along the backs of his hands and a small kiss pressed against his forehead.

Quickly pulling out his phone from his pocket after seeing that Jay was asleep, Cole opened up his messaging app, clicking on the chat with everyone but Jay that they used when he was out of commission.

Earth Wind and Tired

Hey, Jay’s not doing too good

Watergirl

wdym

Earth Wind and Tired

I think he overdid it on the last mission

Sour Green AppLloyd

shit srsly???

Earth Wind and Tired

Yeah, he threw up in the kitchen and I couldn’t clean it

Frozone But Cooler

Do not worry, I will take care of it. Is he resting?

Earth Wind and Tired

Yeah, just got him to sleep but I’m stuck in bed. Can I get some help?

Watergirl

me and kai are coming hang tight

It was only a couple minutes before Cole heard his door open, two sets of footsteps scurrying in and closing the door. Cole watched as Nya and Kai both crouched down next to his bed with worried looks on their faces, eyebrows pinched in a similar sibling manner. They were still in their training gi; Nya must’ve been checking her phone right when Cole texted and paused the training session.

“Hey,” Nya whispered, “everything okay?”

“Jay’s getting pretty sick,” Cole said in a low tone, squeezing his brother’s hand. Jay didn’t squeeze back, good. He was still asleep. “Threw up more than once in the kitchen from the typical sensory stuff. Definitely a headache, muscle aches, fatigue, and grouchy too. Very huggy.”

“Do we have his pudding?” Kai asked, even though Nya was already making a note on her phone to send to Zane.

“We’ll have to run out and get it,” she sighed. “But that’s fine, we’ll pick up some other stuff for him too, not the end of the world. Is he running a fever?”

“Starting to,” Cole moved his head to let Nya press the back of her hand against Jay’s neck and forehead, her thumb lingering on the small scar across his left eye. He saw her eyes cloud over with emotion, and he was quick to press a kiss to her knuckles as Jay leaned into her touch. “He’ll be okay, Nya. He just needs some rest.”

“I know,” Nya murmured, eyes softening when drool started leaking out of her Yin’s mouth as he snored, much to Cole’s false chagrin.

“Every single time,” Cole fake-grumbled, and to both of their surprises Kai was the one to reach out and wipe it away without a word, although the red ninja had a gentle smile on his face as he did so.

Nya started taking her training gi off, reaching behind her to root around through Cole’s dresser and throwing on one of his shirts and a hoodie. Kai and Cole looked away when she threw her bra into Cole’s laundry bin, pulling a pair of Cole’s boxers up and over her waist so that she was clothed entirely in the earth ninja’s attire.

“Shove over, I’m coming in,” Nya said, and Cole shifted over as best as he could to make room for her, turning Jay on his side but making sure he stayed asleep. She laid down on her side next to Jay, close enough for her to pillow his head in the crook of her neck and cup the back of his neck. Nya pressed a few kisses to his hair in a rare show of affection, and Cole watched with bated breath as Jay started to stir.

The blue ninja barely blinked his eyes open. “Nya?”

“Hey, hun,” she said quietly, kissing his warming forehead and then his flushed cheeks. “You don’t feel so good, do you?”

Jay whimpered, tucking his arms against his chest and making himself smaller as Nya adjusted her hold on him. Cole wrapped his arms around both of them, making a fist with his hands and rubbing light circles into Nya’s back.

“Back to sleep for you, dear,” Nya said, cheek to his hair with Cole kissing her forehead. Jay hummed in agreement, content to ball up her shirt in his hands as she threaded her fingers through the auburn curls. The touch soothed Jay, and he let himself bask in the joy of having his Yang and his best friend loving on him His head was still pounding and he was entirely too nauseous for his liking, but having both of them there made everything so much better than it would’ve been if he had gone back to his own bed, all alone.

Alone. He didn’t like being alone when he was sick.

“You’re not alone,” Cole said softly, nuzzling his face into Jay’s hair. “We’re right here, and so is Kai, and none of us are going anywhere.”

The knot in his chest loosened when Kai laid his hand on Jay’s arm, and Jay let the tension he had been holding in his shoulders leak out until they relaxed completely; the sensation was a little strange after keeping them up for so long. Yeah, he still felt like a steaming hot pile of shit left outside to bake in the sun, but it was okay. It was going to be okay.

Kai stood up from the side of the bed, watching as Jay’s eyes closed and his breathing evened out again. “I’m gonna get you guys some water since you might be here for a while. Need anything else?”

“Granola bars,” Cole said, and Nya nodded in agreement. “The peanut butter ones with marshmallows.”

Sighing, Kai shook his head in fond exasperation. “I’ll never understand how you guys can like those things, but okay. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thanks Kai,” Nya called as the fire ninja walked out of the door, making sure to close it as quietly as possible. The two of them stayed silent for a minute, listening to the sound of Jay’s breath ease in and out of his chest and the dull thunks of someone hitting the dummies outside, probably Lloyd. Nya started playing footsies with Cole, even though her shoe size was a fraction of his, and she groaned when she very quickly lost the game as Cole extended his giraffe legs over her own normal-sized ones. She pulled out her phone, and Cole was expecting that to be the end of that when she suddenly shoved the device into his hands.

Cole looked at it in confusion, turning it around and reading the screen. “What?”

“We’re playing Heads-Up, now get a move on and pick a category so we can start.”

“Nya, you could’ve just said you were bored,” but Cole did what she asked, picking the music category and holding the phone to his forehead as best he could with one free arm, the other buried under Jay and Nya. Nya snorted when she saw his choice.

“Oh come on, you know I’m not that good at music!”

“I just gave you some new records last week! Did you not listen to them?”

“No old man, I don’t have time to listen to records. I have a life, you know-”

Jay made a small noise, and both of them went dead silent as the blue ninja moved around a little, throwing his leg over Nya’s and making a satisfied noise as he hiked it up. Nya was more than used to the drool that started leaking onto her hoodie, only making sure that it wouldn’t go down her collar and on her shirt with a sigh before turning to look at Cole. She smoothed her hand through her Yin’s curls, letting the stuttery thump of his heart fill her with calm. He was here, and he was going to be fine.

“Quieter?” she said. Cole scrunched his face up, thinking, before nodding.

“Quieter.”

“We’re still playing though?”

“Hell yeah, Waterlily, and I’m gonna kick your ass.”

#finn's writing #ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago kai #ninjago nya #ninjago cole #ninjago jaya #jaya #aftershocks

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scarlettriot · 3 years

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When one feels like shit, one writes things to feel better :)

This is based on a very short headcanon I had a little while ago that I've decided to make into a little fic. I hope you enjoy.

Featuring: Mainly Pro Hero Red Riot. Also includes Pro Heroes Dynamight, Chargebolt, Earphone Jack, and Pinky

Y/N: They/Them (Y/H/N: Your Hero Name)

Warnings: Kidnapping (well, not kidnapping exactly, adultnapping), restrained, minor physical injuries, drugged into unconsciousness

HAPPY ENDING THOUGH, I PROMISE!

Summary: You've been captured by villains. Wonderful, right, just how you wanted your Friday to go. Your quirk isn't working thanks to them pumping you full of suppressant drugs. You were actually having a hard time remembering how you were abducted. You're only able to remember being on patrol and something smelling off before passing out. Now, thanks to the drugs, you were having a hard time remaining conscious in this...basement? Warehouse or it could be a factory... Someone would find you, your friends were perfectly capable. You just hoped it'd be before anything worse happened.

When you didn't report in at the specified time and weren't answering their calls, the rest of the heroes at the Alliance Agency grew concerned. Jiro was already pulling up your location on your cell phone while Kaminari searched for the tracker in your suit.

Unfortunately, they both ended up at the same location, a dumpster behind an apartment complex, you were nowhere to be found.

Bakugo and Kirishima, who were also concerned about your whereabouts, took a different approach since neither was too talented at the tech side of things.

Kirishima canvases the immediate area around your phone and tracker, using his easy-going smile and charming personality to coax information out of anyone who was willing to talk to him in the area. Meanwhile, Bakugo played to his own strengths and threatened the low lives of the area.

"Someone said they noticed two guys, 'helping' someone in a hero suit down the street earlier. The description of the person and suit match Y/N." Kirishima could see lights in a few of the windows flickering but no signs of people moving about in the apartments above. He couldn't help but wonder if you were in one of them.

He got a grunt of a response from Bakugo through his earpiece. "Yeah, well, I just persuaded some scum into giving up an abandoned factory location about 10 blocks from here. Says he doesn't know what they're doin' but he's seen people goin' in and out all the time. Seems odd since it's abandoned."

The location pinged on Kirishima's phone. "I'm six blocks away. Meet you there."

The building in question looked like it hadn't been in operation for at least a decade when he arrived but fresh tire tracks him something was definitely going on. Not to mention the building had electricity running to it judging by the lights he could see.

When Bakugo showed up minutes later they decided to enter through a southern entrance that Ashido had pointed out after pulling up blueprints at HQ.

"Most of the electrical usage is centered in that location." She explained, "If you're going to find anything useful, I'm betting it'll be there. Chargebolt and Earphone Jack will meet you as soon as they're done collecting security footage from the suspected abduction sight."

Bakugo scoffed. They were Dynamight and Red Riot, they didn't need any damn backup.

Kirishima broke the lock on the door with a sharp tug rather than letting Bakugo shoot it off with an explosion. "You take downstairs and I'll go up. We stay on coms." Kirishima nodded and started his descent.

There was a single guard with a gun resting on his knee and headphones in his ears making Kirishima's job too easy. Not even bothering to harden his skin, he whacked the back of the guy's head and he crumpled to the floor unconscious.

"Took out two guards and a scientist. Oh, there's a lab up here too."

"One guard taken out. Moving into another room now."

The metal door was locked up tight and the guard had a surprising lack of keys on their person. They could have been close by but Kirishima was impatient. He was aware this would be loud but at least it was efficient.

He hardened an arm and with one, two, slices of his hand diving into the metal he was able to create a hole... and garner attention. A knife broke across his hand and two gunshots were fired from inside the room, doing nothing to him.

"Gonna have to do better than that!" He roared with laughter.

Kirishima ripped the metal wide and stepped through. He wasted no time, grabbing the gun point-blank, bending the barrel upward with a devilish grin before turning on the man with two daggers. A green substance ran off his skin and down onto the blades. It burned slightly when they slashed at him but Kirishima was used to Ashido's acid by now that this was practically child's play!

The other guy came at him with an orange beam of light right from his eyes that managed to break through a bit of his hardened skin. He could feel blood start to trickle down from his forehead. "Now, we're getting somewhere!"

Using his body weight, Kirishima shoved the man with the daggers down to the ground, disarming him quickly, and used his own blades to live into his friend's leg. He watched as the acid melted the fabric and left black burns on the man's skin, nasty stuff. He tired another beam in retaliation but Kirishima dodged it this time.

"I'd love to keep playing around but I'm lookin' for someone." He used one hand to hoist the man up and another to shield his eyes. Instantly, Kirishima's hand started to burn but he held steady. "Do you know where Y/H/N is?" The beam pulsed stronger, "Fine. If you won't help me then I have no use for you." He sat him back on the ground, a harden fisted to the back of the head had him good and knocked out.

"What about you?" Kirishima asked, returning his focus to the dagger man, "Do you know where they are? Your operation is a bust, the least you can do is tell me where my friend is. I might even put in a good word for you if ya do."

He grabbed a discarded metal pipe and the man must have taken it as a threat because he lifted shaky hands that were no longer coated in green. "B-back there with the others."

"Others? Other victims or others of you?"

"Subjects, we have other subjects!"

Rage pulsed in Kirishima's veins but he kept a lid on it. "Right then. Thanks." He bent the pipe around the man's hands and another around his ankles before speaking over the coms again.

"Y/N isn't the only victim. Dynamight, get down here."

He was running to the back of the room when he saw you along with five others. Your wrists had been bound by metal shackles suspended from a beam high on the wall that the tips of your toes were just brushing the concrete floor. You were slumped forward with IVs poked into both arms.

"Y/N?" He calmly approached but you didn't answer. You just hung there like a rag doll.

Kirishima lifted your head in his hands and saw a few cuts on your face that had dried blood still surrounding them but he breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the steady drumming of your heart, shallow, but there. You were alive and that was all he cared about.

"Okay. Gonna stop whatever the hell these are..." He flipped switches on the IVs and continued to talk out loud about his process. "Then gotta get 'em outta you..."

With surprisingly delicate fingers, he pulled the needles from your arms. Stopping the small pools of blood with a few pieces of gauze and tape that someone had been so kind to leave behind.

He then wrapped his left arm snuggly around your body. Holding you against him in a way he hoped didn't hurt you any more than you already were. With his right hand, Kirishima reached up to the shackles just as you started to stir awake.

One side of him was so completely soft and caring, the other hard and brutal, snapping the manacles in a powerful grip and you fell against him completely.

"Whadda hero." His ears glowed pink from the compliment.

"I'm really glad I got you back."

A/N: I know it isn't my best writing by any means but I had to do something to distract myself. Hope you're all doing well <3

#mha #mha y/n #mha fluff #bnha #red riot #eijiro kirishima #kirishima headcanon #bakugo katsuki #dynamight #kirishima fluff

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crystal-soba · 4 years

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Susie x reader

. Susie's life hasn't been the same without you. She missed you every moment she spent in the realm of the entity. Sure she had her best friends with her, and she did have fun. But still she felt something missing from her life, she never told anyone for fear they'd think of her as weak. They'd tell her to move on and forget about you. And to some degree it made sense, if you were here that would mean that she would have to... No, she wouldn't. She could never hurt you. She needed you with her, she could feel her sanity draining with every moment of slashing and killing. If you were here it wouldn't matter to her. The group must have noticed her not so bright and cheerful mood lately. She sat on the edge of the broken railing for the balcony holding her knife and staring down at the snow. Alone. With no one around. The others were probably busy.

.You walked around with posters of your missing friends, Susie, Julie, Frank, and Joey. Other people assumed that they ran away, but you knew that they wouldn't leave you behind. Especially Susie, you missed her the most. The past few weeks were emotionally draining without her by your side. You weren't able to get an hour of sleep, you've missed days of school. The pain and nervousness caused you to throw up, you often get caught up in overthinking making the whole situation worse. It never stopped, what if they were dead. They might of been too reckless and crashed. Your panic came back, you needed a break.

.You sat on the bench Infront of the block busters. Your song came on. Well it was Susie's and your song, the song you were playing when you bumped into her. You couldn't help but remember the place you would meet her. The ski resort... The ski resort? You hadn't checked on it in a few weeks now, maybe she was there waiting for you. Although you never got a text back from the countless calls and messages you sent her, they might be at the abandoned resort.

.You ran to the resort, not stopping for a second to catch your breath. Your legs and arms begged you to take a break, but you didn't listen. As your lungs burned from the cold air you noticed the feeling of a strange aura coming from the area. The building felt stranger... empty. It looked the same, but it felt odd. The air felt off, not it's usual fresh self. You looked around the outside for any clues, nothing. And when you went inside you couldn't remember weather or not the building always looked this messed up... sure they got a little rough with some of the furniture, but now everything looked more frantic and speraticly thrown around. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you. You needed to rest, calm down for a second and have time to really think. Plus, maybe they'll come back at some point. Nothing wrong with trying. You started a fire with the small fireplace, luckily there was still a small box of matches on the mantle. No footprints, no sign of anyone being here, dust covered the box of matches you used to light the fire. It was unlikely they had been here.

.You stared Into the bright flame while over thinking again. All the horrible possibilities and explanations for the missing group. Susie would usually be able tell when you started to get like this, she'd calm you down no matter how hard or bad the anxiety got. Your not sure how long you could really make it through life without her. At this point she was the only person who cared about you. You relaid the moment of crashing into her in your head, closing your eyes. She was beautiful, her pink hair and wide smile. Eyes teal, pure and angelic. She was wearing her silver nose piercing and black choker with her nails painted black. It made your stomach fill with butterflies when she held her hand to you, when you accepted it she only widened her smile and showed her silver braces. And you probably looked like a stuttering mess the whole time. It was a nice few hours of ice skating with her on the pond a block away. Eventually you were introduced to her friends and they tolerated you. More and more hangouts and movie nights lead to the both of you to start dating. She's the beam of light through the dark night, your knight in shining armor.

.You slowly drifted off to sleep, the fire added to the only bit of comfort you had with thinking about Susie and the others. But your eyes got heavy and you felt tired, you couldn't stop the overwhelming exhaustion. Instead of fighting it, you let it take you. Hopefully bring you a few hours of sleep.

.Of course waking up in a wooden shack was not expected. You didn't understand who or what brought you to the rickety old wooden shack, but it wasn't good. You stood up and looked to see a basement next to you. You slowly walked down the creaking wood floor boards to figure an explanation. You peeked around the corner to see four meat hooks. Blood everywhere and the sound of screams coming from nowhere. Needles to say you ran out of the shack. You were still at the resort. Only it was darker, a brick snow covered wall surounded the area, and strangely placed walls with windows were put in strange spots. More meat hooks could be found scattered around the outside of the resort. Walking into the resort blood smears on the floor boards and strange pallets didn't exactly sit well with you. You ran outside past the locker room, in search of an exit.

.All you found was a large metal gate with a electric switch. You pulled the switch as hard as possible, it didn't budge. You sighed and started to look for a new exit. You did take the possibility of somehow climbing up the tall brick wall, but your thoughts were cut off from you when you heard something running towards you, your heart rate shot up with no explanation for why it's so loud. You of course booked it, not knowing where it is your running to but just running. Whoever it was, they were gaining on you.

."(Y/n)!?" The voice made you stop dead in your tracks. You whipped around to look back. "Susie?" A mask made of gaps of wire and nails, pink smooth hair, and a dirty Fairview hoodie with -1996- printed on. Definitely Susie no doubt. You both ran to each other, you knew your eyes were starting to water. She jumped into your arms as you caught her hips. She ripped of her mask and let it drop to the side, after weeks of not seeing her it almost felt like a dream to see her again. She seemed to agree as she leaned into a kiss. It felt like every burden you carried was lifted from your shoulder, every worry and guilt you've been feeling was cleansed.

.When you two stoped you both took a second to look at each other a second time. Her expected scent of her usual perfume had faded and instead smelt faintly like dried blood. You gave her a worried look when you saw the sleeves of her hoodie had blood stains. She gave you a soft smile and cupped hand to your cheek to show she was okay. Neither of you said anything as you walked into the resort. Of course the place looked about the same from when you you feel asleep, except for the occasional blood smear on the wall or floor. "...What...What happened." You were almost scared to ask.

.You both sat at the bar next to each other, most of the chairs were broken with either legs missing to be used for fire wood. "We all woke up here in the lodge together, but things felt different... We started to hear things. We started to see things. It's like a supernatural being called the Entity... It asked us to complete certain things, almost like a game. We weren't alone, another group called ''Survivors'' were there... Well we listened to what the entity told us to and..." She looked down at the floor, avoiding your gaze. She didn't have to say anything more about it for you to understand what happens next. You pulled her into a hug, letting her cling onto you.

."How is the rest of the group?" She took a second to think. "Well they're fine. It's like there's nothing wrong. The only thing wrong is when they don't do enough for the entity and it gets displeased with us. But they're fine." You nodded, you grabbed her hands to hold them in yours. They were cold and scratched up. "You look a bit tired. Do you ever sleep?" She had faint dark circles under her eyes, not makeup of course. She nodded "sometimes, I've been problems sleeping lately...I can't sleep unless your next to me..." Pink blush spread through her cheeks, the both of you cuddled but neither of you slept with each other. Your face also changed in hue, you weren't going to say no.

.You followed her up the stairs with broken pieces of railing and let her lead you to a private room. It wasn't much, but you can't expect a fully furnished room from this place. An old hotel bed with knife carvings covering the frame and a broken lamp. The lights didn't work and the walls wallpaper was starting to peel off. You guessed Frank or Joey must have punched a hole in the wall at some point, and graffiti covered one side of the room. "This is it. The only other place to sleep on is the couch downstairs." You nodded while starting to settle down with her in the bed. It dipped in the middle and the springs made it uncomfortable, the mattress could be compared to sleeping on the hardwood floor. But either way, it was a bed. You stared at the back of the door for a second, the word legion carved over and over again into the wood.

.It sent butterflies to be holding her as both of your breathing patterns synced together. You held her close to you, holding her waist with your legs tangled together. She had her face near your chest listening to your heart beat slowly beating to a march. Everything felt right, like nothing mattered more than the two of you. You didn't care if the group came back to see the both of you in such a soft moment. Everyone was safe, and really that's all that matters to you. You both felt the warm embrace of sleep follow as you played with each others hair silently. Before you went to sleep you could hear the faintest "I love you" slip from her mouth before she also fell asleep, it may have been the best nights sleep you have ever had. All the worry and anxiety left when you had each others company, everything would be alright as long as she was by your side.

#dbd x reader #fanfic #fluff #oneshots #reader insert

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saoirsetm · 4 years

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hey y’all ! i’m kat and we’re FINALLY opening ?!? i’m so hyped, you don’t even know. i’m a double leo Trying to survive video lectures in a noisy house who loves dark chocolate and 80% of the kpop releases so far this year ( stream feel good by fromis_9, it’s such a cute bop ! ) i’m also a cat mom to my almost fourteen year old babies who are still like energetic kittens, so ask for pics and you shall receive DSLKGJ but without further ado, here’s my girl who’s gonna prove that hindsight is INDEED 20/20, so this is gonna be fun:

✧ ˖ * ° ><> ╱ abigail cowen, cis female, she/her — look who’s fresh from the ferry, aren’t you SAOIRSE LEARY ? your eroda brochure says you’re TWENTY-THREE and that you’re currently residing in MARMOTON . your favourite tourist attraction to hang around is ERODIAN BEACH , and the locals around these ports would describe you as INQUISITIVE & INTREPID, STUBBORN & IMPULSIVE . your resting fish face really gives off LONG HAIR BLOWN BACK BY THE OCEAN BREEZE, LATE NIGHTS SPENT PLOTTING THE NEXT GREAT VOYAGE, RED LIPSTICK IMPRINTED ON A MUG OF TEA , and i’m a big fan of the VINTAGE CELTIC KNOT NECKLACE you seem to always be attached to. well, if you see the minister this morning; make sure you head on home as quick as possible, you never know what bad luck he could bring. ╱ ooc; kat, 23, she/her, ast.

tw: needles ( tattoo mention ), cancer mention, death mention

miss saoirse...... oof

GDFLSJL where do i begin with her honestly ??

full name is saoirse eve leary, affectionately called cece by her family since she was young and runs with it as her nickname !

born and raised in cork, ireland with two siblings, a working class father and Slightly upper middle class mother

her childhood wasn’t like, Majorly eventful; she was considered a bit of a tomboy which isn’t a surprise bc she’s always been a bit of a spirited, adventurous girl, has the odd nomadic moment strike her and loves to travel

had a SUPER close relationship with her maternal grandmother before she passed a few years back, still has a close one with her grandfather and paternal grandmother as they’re still living

is a big family girl overall, so much so that she’s eagerly awaiting the day she gets to be the cool aunt

had a decent cluster of pals over the years that’s likely dwindled due to everyone going their separate ways after high school

saoirse Did go to uni between her travels — and graduated — and has aspirations of becoming an anthropologist to explore other cultures and meet new people/understand them

which.. obviously ain’t happening now LFSGJGF rip

came to eroda partially bc it seems like such a pretty and quaint place, partially to explore its “ myth ” that you can never leave; her naturally curious ass questions the whole thing, at least in the sense that there’s no way to challenge your supposed fate on the island and won’t deny entertaining some conspiracy theories around the mystery

she still doesn’t understand that.. yeah, she Literally is stuck here for the rest of her life now, probably because she hasn’t made a Real attempt to put that to the test, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it FDSLKJDS

anyways she came here solo ( more than likely ) and has enjoyed her time getting to know the locals and other visitors, taking in the scenery, etc

probably took up a part-time job at sally’s tavern to cover her expenses since she lives in marmoton and it ought to be close enough for her to get to gfjlsdg

personality and everything else

a sociable, ( relatively ) fearless ginger with an eclectic taste in music and a profound appreciation for pastries..

despite being all about cleaner eating habits and lowering her sugar intake, she takes a cheat day or week wherever she can LSDGFJK

parties, game nights, etc, you name it ?? she’s there !

kinda competitive while we’re bringing up games and such, but she’s not about the whole sore winner/loser thing — rather she’ll groan and sulk a little before moving on

like i said before, loves to travel, loves pretty places in general so prepare yourself for an abundance of pictures on her insta feed of where she’s been or where she wants to go

loyal as hell, but she has her limit if you misuse the trust that comes with it

she’s just v wholesome and has a mix of small town city/endlessly curious energy with a sprinkle of being the life of the party……. kinda

however, she’s the most ?? hard to place person all the same

that feeling of freedom that comes with her exploring and all makes her a little hard to tie down; she doesn’t plan on staying in eroda ( which is unfortunate for her considering.... fglsdk ) as she has more to accomplish and see

very much does her own thing and doesn’t wanna hear any criticism for it

as if she’s that out of line DLJGDSLK but still

always wants to try new things, no matter how dumb they might be; except for anything that’s a Legitimate death sentence or is.. a GENUINELY dumb idea, she has enough common sense to know what Not to do KSGFDJDS

has little tattoos on her wrist and behind her left ear for her Favourite trips/symbols/whatever and her family, will let y’all know what they’d be whenever i figure them out since i’m so damn picky with these things

a Big supporter for buying/investing locally, has little trinkets and such to prove it

in fact, she has a collection of thrifted or vintage clothes from her travels and back home, and a chest full of cute jewelry she switches between daily

one piece she wears all the time — only parts with it when she sleeps — is the celtic knot pendant mentioned in her app that’s become something of an heirloom on her mom’s side of the family !

she has the cutest irish lilt in my mind, kinda the same as miss ronan’s and aisling bea’s

really loves her freckles, partially bc i love her freckles and my own :(

tea > coffee, but she loves coffee-flavoured things; bring her a peppermint or camomile tea as her shift winds down or.. idk, just because, and she’ll be forever indebted to you fldjgs

loves to hang out by the water in her free time — she loves the scent and sounds that comes with it, it’s one of the few places where she can put her mind to rest for a bit

the sound of rain hitting a rooftop is her perfect sleep soundtrack

kinda wants to adopt a pet, but doesn’t wanna leave them if she goes on an excursion where they can’t come with her :(

baths with epsom salts, candles that smell like lavender or something just as pleasant and calming, etc during a night in soothes the hell out of her soul

top three products she has in her bag at all times, besides personal info and her phone ? lip balm, a powder spf and mints FGLGKSD

btw.. miss ginger hair and freckles will probably gasp at anyone going out with no spf on them and scold tf out of them bc ‘ hello, melanoma ?? sunburn ?!? ’

wanted connections

childhood pal(s) she’s bumped into: reunited by chance, cece’s glad she has a couple of people she knows to keep her grounded when her mind runs wild at what Might happen when she decides to try her hand at leaving

cousin(s), other relatives: idk, figured it’d be fun for her to have a family member or two running around and not realizing the other relative is the Only one they’ll see in person from here on out

best pal(s) in eroda: someone she’s taken to since arriving, likely spending their free-time eating pastries on the beach, talking shit over tea, little market dates, going to the rainzone half-drunk and trying to rope each other into new things

opposites attract.. of sorts sfdlgkj: basically just a traveler meeting a local who’s never been off eroda, telling all about their ( quite limited ) excursions and bonding in other areas over time !

hook-ups, fwbs.... ENEMIES with benefits?? idk, point is the girl’s probably gotten laid since arriving, it’s all a matter of the situation that fits your muse(s) best FHGSDKJ

roommate: she lives in marmoton, likely in a rental of sorts, and i can’t see her living alone given the situation on the island ( though i’ve viewed her as the type to live alone in a space for one and a half people any other time tbh ). so she has just One and they make the arrangement work ! depending on their personalities and such, we’ll figure out how well they get along Exactly, if at all

ex ??: the girl’s bi so y’all can toss anyone at her for this one as well ! question marks bc i was thinking it’d be an on-and-off thing but maybe not come the time i post this intro LSGKD. basically they were seeing each other for a few months, she fell hard Quick/they moved kinda fast bc they were vibing and they would distance themselves upon realizing this — though i see cece giving them distance bc she knows they need it rather than needing it herself. if it IS on-and-off, they’re definitely off rn and treading lightly ( though she finds it hard to stray and hates things not being fully resolved no matter what happens ?? ), so all it’s a bit angsty regardless of how it goes dfgkljsdg

fellow mystery fiend: someone please fuel her curiosity to the max and try to crack the impossible case of eroda’s captive capabilities with her.. and proceed to watch true crime shows with her when that clearly goes to shit SDFKLJ

older sibling or mentor dynamic: someone to look out for her/teach her some things to help fully support herself/give her advice when she probably needs it most.. idk, i just like the idea of someone becoming a stand-in relative type of friend to her

just give her someone to confide in, to swim at night with, stargaze and all that cute shit, be it platonically or otherwise !

she’s not gonna click with everyone and that’s fine, BUT maybe they run in the same social circles and cece thinks they seem nice enough, but they never really talk amongst themselves ?? just a case of awkwardly starting from scratch and seeing where it takes us !

#eroda.intro #╰ ✨ . ❪ 𝐖𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐒 ↝ kat chats ｡#tw needles #tw cancer #tw death #i think?? that's all the triggers here?#i really hope it is anyways :/ i'm bad for spotting them sometimes when they're vague mentions #anyways FINALLY did it !!#now to make my theme even Remotely presentable in the next half hour GLDFJS

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roach-circus · 4 years

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I'll Follow The Sun--Bri x Reader

a/n: I’m currently in a hurricane, (no worries, I am safe!) and I thought I would use it as an inspiration to do a cute storm bit. Thank you to @ineloqueent for helping me out a bunch again, she proofread and helped me a bunch with grammar, this fic definitely would not be as wonderful without her! I’m quite happy with the way this one came out, and although I know the plot is a bit cliche, it’s one of my favourite tropes and I think it’s kind of cute heheh ♥️♥️

warnings: There are a few curse words, but it’s mainly pure fluff and a bunch of angst, and also wayyy too many Beatles references because I like referring to music in my stories. (I promise it’ll be a different band next time!)

word count: 2.75k

Bright cracks of lightning erupted from the cloudy sky, and rain was beating down harshly onto the pavement outside.

You truly disliked storms, the monotony of them always brought you to dark places of your mind. Your week had been a bit rough, and your boyfriend was visiting some family members who lived an hour or two away, until tomorrow. So all you could do now was to sink further back into the plush leather couch, the lower half of your legs hanging off of the side.

Attempting to focus on “Baby’s in Black” in between loud bursts of thunder, you switched out the receiver on your turntable to increase the volume. You returned to the couch, as the record player began to play “I’ll Follow The Sun”. You hummed along; this was one of your favourite songs on the album. When you were younger, it would lull you to sleep and it reminded you of those times now, when you needed it most.

As the song progressed, your thoughts began to wander, to return to those dark places they tended to visit in the dullness and loneliness of a storm. You knew that it was entirely irrational, but still you worried, What if the people in your life did not truly love you? What if no one enjoyed your company? What if they were all simply pretending?

before you could be completely sucked in by your destructive thoughts, you sat up. You took a few deep breaths, counting to seven as you inhaled, counting to five as you held it, and counting to eight as you exhaled.

You stepped over to your turntable and carefully removed the record which had stopped spinning, placing it back into its sleeve. Ambling over to the oak-wood coffee table that homed your telephone, you wondered. You needed to talk to someone.

You contemplated calling your friends, but it was far too late at night to do so without waking them. You thought about calling your mother, but it then occurred to you that she was not the person you wanted to speak to right now. You wanted to speak to your boyfriend. He was the most understanding out of everyone you knew. And you could really use that right now.

Dialing his number, you crossed your fingers in the hopes that he would pick up. You felt a rush of relief and joy when you heard, “Hello, sweet Y/N! What’s going on?” “I’m just feeling a bit lonely, Bri. You know how I get during storms.”

“There’s a storm by you?”

“Yeah,” you replied, nodding though he couldn’t see you. “it’s quite dreary over here. I’m alright though, I’ve just been doing my best to avoid the dreadful thoughts that usually come ‘round.” You laughed lightly in an attempt to ease the tension, but you knew that Brian wouldn’t believe the pretense.

“Say, Y/N,” he began, “do you have anything to occupy yourself for approximately one hour and thirty-four minutes?”

“Yes, but Brian, you don’t have to come back now. I’ll survive. you enjoy your last day with your parents.”

“I’ll be right over!”

“Bri, no-” you were cut off by a click on the other end of the line.

You would’ve loved to see him, but you also knew that he deserved to spend that time with his family.

You decided to return to your music to pass the time, choosing an album with a few more upbeat numbers. Carefully, you placed Help! onto the record player, fitting the needle on top. As the first song (conveniently titled “Help!”) began, you immediately started to feel more cheerful. Instead of sitting back down, you bobbed your head to the music, pacing around your living room and stepping to the beat. Soon, this transitioned into snapping to the beat, your arms swinging from side to side, as “The Night Before” played. You went on dancing, your level of enthusiasm increasing with each song that played, until both “Dizzy Miss Lizzy” and you fell silent. Not wanting your little dance-session to end, you swiftly removed the record from the table, and replaced it with, “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”. As the song of the same name chimed in, you clapped along to the beat, spun about to the rhythm.

Thirty-five more minutes passed by like nothing, as you continued dancing to the Beatles. You hadn’t had the time to listen to this much music in months, and it was doing wonders for your mood. You hardly noticed the thunder and lighting continuing outside, a majority of it drowned out by your singing.

But as you heard a few light knocks on the door, you knew Brian had not been lying when he abruptly ended your phone call.

You quickly, but carefully removed the record and placed it in its sleeve, and then placed that on the set of drawers near the door to your flat. You unhooked the lock, and pulled the door open.

He was standing with Scrabble in one hand, and a large bag of popcorn kernels in the other.

“Well, don’t just stand there, come inside, it’s pouring!” you declared jokingly as you motioned for him to enter.

“Thank god, it’s insane out there,” he said, brushing past you as he came through the doorway and stooped to remove his shoes. He then shook his head rapidly in an attempt to remove some of the water that had soaked into his hair, as though he were a dog.

“Hey!” you exclaimed as the rainwater from his hair sprayed the both of you. “You’re getting me all wet!”

“Well, I think my curls suffered enough abuse in the ‘60s. The least I can do now is to keep them dry.”

You both giggled a bit. “In all honesty, thank you so much for coming and visiting. You really didn’t have to do this.”

“It’s no big deal. I wanted to get away from those old folks anyway.”

You both were silent for a moment. Then Brian asked, “How do you feel about a sleepover?”

“That sounds fantastic,” you smiled, “I’d love to! But we can’t sleep yet. I see you’ve brought Scrabble.” You knew all too well that a game of Scrabble with Brian could last for days on end.

“Oh, of course, we won’t be sleeping until someone reigns supreme,” he said, gravely serious. “That someone will most definitely be me!” you declared, and he chuckled.

The two of you headed into the living room, and you flicked the switch to turn on the lamp. It flickered on. then it flickered back off. And then the entry-room fell dark as well, and soon after that, the rest of the bulbs illuminating your house.“Well shit. The power’s shot.”

“Wow,” Brian mocked, “I had no idea. Have you got any candles?”

You nodded. “Definitely, and I know I’ve got a torch or two as well, I’ll go find them.”

You attempted to reach your closet, but you were initially unsuccessful and ended up tripping over god-knows-what before tumbling to the ground. Brian held out a hand to help you up, and you thanked him and took it, regaining your balance and pushing the unidentified object out of the way.

Eventually, you made it to the closet and retrieved a torch for each of you and as many candles as you could find. You lit them, and placing them strategically about the house, you were able to navigate with a much more favorable outcome.

You then made your way back to the living room with your torches and several candles.

“Do you want to set up the game while I pop these?” Brian asked, holding up the bag of popping corn.

“Of course, although there isn’t much to set up,” you responded. “Here, let me grab you a pot.”

You followed him towards the kitchen.

You pulled a stainless-steel saucepan from a corner cabinet and placed it on the stove.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you called to Brian, as you began to head back to the living room.

“Bags going first!” he shouted from the other room as you knelt down on one side of your coffee table and opened the Scrabble box.

You smiled. You didn’t really have a preference of the order that you would play in, but you unfolded the game board, placed it on the table, and pulled seven letter tiles for yourself. You heard sizzling pops as you arranged your tiles on your tray and set up a scoring paper with each of your names written, and the smell of fresh popcorn wafted from the kitchen. A minute or two later, you heard footsteps, and Brian came up behind you, placing a large plastic bowl of buttery popcorn to the side, and wrapping his arms around you.

“You ready, darling?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled by your hair.

You smiled softly. “Absolutely. Come sit,” you patted the spot on the other side of the board.

He sat on his knees across the coffee table from you, a small grin tugging at his lips as well, and you handed him a small grey pouch containing the rest of the tiles. The game started out rather relaxed, but as it went on, the will to win in the both of you rose. You became more and more competitive with each passing minute, determined to beat him.

“C-A-P-I-T-A-L,” you said aloud, laying down the tiles. “Dammit, Y/N, I was going to take that letter!” Brian exclaimed, as you marked twenty-two points under your name on the scoring notes and cackled.

“It’s only fair considering the monster of a triple word score you unleashed, with- what was the word-”

“Equinox!” Brian said, proud of his accomplishment.

“Yes, that one,” you responded, a little defeatedly; it was because of that word he now retained the higher total score.

it was all in good fun, though.

You reached over to your popcorn, threw a piece into the air, and successfully caught it between your lips, although you shifted several of the tiles in the process. You attempted to realign them into their original organization, but you accidentally switched around a few letters, so that two of the words to now read, “pqualize,” and “excorcise”.

Bri, it seemed, found your panicked effort to fix the words quite humorous, because when you looked up after rearranging the tiles, he was giggling with a bright smile across his face. You thought to yourself then how lucky you were to have him with you.

The game continued, and you hardly noticed the presence of the storm.you were too busy laughing yourselves silly , pretending to play phony words and trying to top each other’s fantastically high scores.

“Good game, Bri,” you proclaimed as it drew to a close, no tiles remaining in the pouch.

“Good game, Y/N,” he responded. “How about that score?”

“Ah, ‘f course,” you said sarcastically, both well aware that his total points were much greater than yours. “Quite a close game, if I do say so myself. it came down to two seventy-one and three seventy-nine.”

“And who got which?” Bri mocked.

“Oh, shut up, you,” you responded.

The two of you returned to your couch, Brian still with a slight smirk resting on his face. You began to sink deeper into the plush cushions, but before you could collapse completely, Brian wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close against his chest. Brian tugged a strand of your hair between his fingers, then asked, “May I put on a bit of music?”

“Of course!” you said, “Anytime. Just be sure to switch out the receiver, the current one is a bit loud.”

He got up and proceeded to stroll over to your music shelf, dragging his fingers over the spines of the record sleeves, softly murmuring the album titles, before settling on one and lightly tugging it from the shelf. You caught a glimpse of his choice: “Beatles For Sale,” but.You hadn’t fully processed his decision as he slid the disk out of its sleeve, placing it on your record player.

As “No Reply” began to play, he returned to his original position, one long arm resting on your shoulders as he pulled you to him again. Light taps to the beat met your skin as he hummed the melody. He turned his head slightly, pressed a soft kiss onto your forehead, and adjusted his neck to allow your head to rest on his shoulder.

Sitting, cocooned in his warmth, had almost distracted you from noticing that “I’ll Follow The Sun” had returned to your ears.

All of your thoughts came flooding back to you, the ones from earlier this night, combined with so many previous ones that it made your head hurt. You were met with a wave of worry and loneliness, despite Brian’s presence. you did whatever you could to divert your attention, but it was to no avail. You let out a slight whimper, and Brian looked at you in alarm.

“Oh gosh, what’s wrong, Y/N, dear?” he asked , his concern audible.

“It’s just… this song, this album,” you let out a small sob. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re a fantastic collection of songs, but…” you weren’t going to try to hide the trouble you were going through this time. “I’m not sure why, but they bring on so many thoughts that I would prefer not to have.” You were only able to stop your tears from falling by burying your face in Bri’s side.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what kinds of thoughts? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wish to, but if I can help you, I’d love to.”

You lift your face up to explain. “It’s alright. I just always seem to return to this stream of self-conscious thoughts whenever I hear it. Like, what if everyone in my life is just pretending to love me, but in reality they never have, or what if the people around me just hate me?”

“Oh, darling, don’t ever even suggest that.” Bri responded passionately. “I can tell you for a fact that your friends, your family, peers, all love your company and do not feel that way whatsoever, and I wouldn’t let you near anyone who did. They don’t deserve your company.”

You sat together in silence, Brian rubbing slow circles into your arm, until your breathing returned to normal. You placed your head back onto his shoulder, feeling much better after having gotten it all off of your chest. You were so thankful to have such a supportive, kind person in your life. You cuddled closer and Brian reciprocated, pressing tender kisses to your hairline.

“Really, thank you so much, Bri. I can’t believe I get to spend my time with someone as compassionate and caring as you are.”

“Of course, Y/N,” he responded. “I love you.”

Somehow, those words were enough to finally allow your muscles to untense and for you to release a small, contented sigh.

As you felt yourself beginning to doze off, Bri reached over and blew out the candles in your vicinity, and the world around you dimmed. You let your eyelids fall closed, and even as you meandered off into a dream, you could still feel his light breath on your head, his thumb still stroking your arm gently. you knew then he would always be there, even when things seemed to be dark and gloomy, with no hope in sight.

You knew he would always be there, to help you follow the sun.

#my fic #brian x reader #fluff #angst #brian may fic

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repulsivepangolin7 · 4 years

Text

Fic: Why don’t you crash at my place?

A/N: Okay, so I was sitting around and eating some carrot cake, which happened to be my snack this weekend, and I had this idea. So, this is set some time before season one. In other words, Street isn’t a part of the team yet (and Buck is the squad leader). Oh, and I took some poetic license at one point. In my mind it makes sense, but there’s nothing in the show which has pointed towards it (I don’t think anything has pointed away from it either though…)

Word count: 3 042

She looked over at Luca as she finished up changing into her off duty clothes. Luca was in the process of stripping off his uniform.

She focused back on her locker and started shoving her dirty work clothes into her bag.

She glanced over at Luca again and saw him limp over to the bench behind them to change out of his pants. He started with taking off his shoes, before he started unbuttoning his pants, still seated. He had taken quite the beating earlier, and he generally looked like he could use a pair of crutches.

“How are you doing?” she asked as she put her hair back up after brushing it.

They were the last two in the locker room. Chris was running late since she had decided on grabbing a shower at work, Luca was still there because he had spent forever limping from the garage and up to the locker room. And then he had spent some time just sitting on the bench, resting.

“Looking forward to a slow evening and a bag of frozen veggies to drape over my knee.” He admitted, “And the day off tomorrow.”

Chris nodded, “I could drive you home, if you want.”

Luca looked down at his knee for a second, they both knew he had handed the keys over to Tan for the ride back to the Metro.

“That would be really nice, thank you.” He smiled, before he sighed heavily, “You know what, never mind. I should probably step into the shower before my knee stiffens up completely. I can drive myself home.”

“No, I can wait. You don’t plan on staying in there for an hour, right?” Chris teased.

He chuckled, “No, I don’t plan on it… But judging by all my aches and bruises, I just might anyways.”

Chris chuckled, “I can wait for you. I can spend some time going over my gear in the meanwhile.”

“Just leave me a note on the locker if you decide I take too long in the shower, and that it was better just to leave.” Luca shrugged.

Chris nodded. She knew she would wait until he was finished up in the shower, no matter how long it would take.

SWATSWATSWAT

Half an hour later she returned to the locker room and found Luca almost dressed on the bench.

“Thanks for waiting…” he smiled, tying up his second shoe.

He grabbed his own duffle bag before he struggled to his feet.

He only made it two steps away from the bench, before Chris decided he needed something or someone to lean on and ducked under one of his arms.

“Thanks.”

“You really should get that checked out.” She frowned as they started making their way towards the parking lot.

“It’s not broken or anything.”

“Are you sure? You’re limping pretty bad.”

Before he could stop himself, a low growl escaped his chest.

“Luca…”

“It’s not broken.” Luca exhaled slowly.

“You really should have a doctor check that out.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow, alright?”

She didn’t have to look up at him to know he was rolling his eyes. She didn’t really get the thing about not going directly to a doctor when something was as painful and as swollen as Luca’s knee seemed to be. But then again, she knew he had a thing about needles. The guy was cooler about potentially being stabbed than getting a needle poked into him.

“How about you come home with me instead of going home alone?” she offered, “We can watch 80’s action movies and I can make homemade pizza for us.”

“You sure?”

“My spare bedroom is always ready.” Chris replied, “And I’ve got a few ice-packs and a bunch of bags of frozen vegetables. Sure enough to ice that knee of yours.”

Luca nodded, “You sure make offers which are hard to turn down.”

“So, you’re coming home with me?” she pulled, “The building I live in has an elevator…”

“Alright, you’ve sold it to me…” Luca chuckled, “I’m not up for climbing four floors worth of stairs anyway. You know, unless I have to…”

Chris chuckled, “Good thing you don’t have to then…”

SWATSWATSWAT

Chris had supported him all the way to her car, and then from her car and up to her apartment and onto her couch. She helped him pile up a few pillows to rest his leg on and then she found a kitchen towel and an ice-pack.

Luca actually took an uncharacteristic mini-nap, while Chris started making pizza.

SWATSWATSWAT

She glanced into the living room right before she put the pizza in the oven. Luca was snoring quietly, and actually looked fairly comfortable.

She finished up doing her dishes after the pizza making. Them just for fun, she looked through her cabinet and found a box of carrot cake mix and powdered sugar. Next she checked her fridge and found carrots, cream cheese and butter.

Then she found a mixing bowl and a spatula to mix it all together with.

The carrot cake batter was ready to go into the oven, about at the same time as the pizza was ready to come out of it. She also had the icing ready, but that would have to wait until the cake had cooled down after the bake.

She turned the oven down a bit, and let the door stand open until the pre-heating light came back on. Indicating that the oven was cooler than the setting. Then she closed the door and waited until the light switched off again, once that happened she put the cake into the oven and set the timer.

She let the pizza rest a bit before she started slicing it up. Then she found two plates, a big bottle of soda and a couple of glasses for them.

Luca stirred awake when she placed the glasses on the living room table and the bottle by one of the table legs.

“Did you have a nice nap?”

He blinked a few times, trying to wash away the momentary confusion. “Yeah.”

“Hungry?”

He nodded and yawned, “Yeah.”

“Good. Pizza’s ready.” She smiled and headed towards the kitchen area to bring the pizza back.

“Wow, smells great!”

Chris nodded, “Dig in.”

SWATSWATSWAT

They were a good way into the first Rambo movie when her alarm rang, signaling that the carrot cake was done in the oven.

“What’s that`”

“A surprise.” She grinned and walked over to the kitchen.

“What?” he tried to stretch far enough to see what was going on inside the kitchen, but of course that was futile.

“I made cake.” Chris shrugged as she bent down to pull the cake out of the oven, “I craved something sweet.”

“Nice!” he grinned, “Oh, it smells awesome.”

Chris nodded and set the cake off to cool. “You like carrot cake, right?”

“Like it? It’s one of my favorites!” Luca grinned.

“Good, cause it’s my favorite as well.” Chris grinned, as she headed back to her couch, “It just has to cool for a while first.”

He nodded and they went back to watching the Rambo and eating pizza.

SWATSWATSWAT

They had finished the first Rambo movie, and had put on Smokey and the Bandit instead of putting on the sequel.

Chris had put the topping on the carrot cake, and brought the cake over to the table with fresh plates and forks.

“Bet you would have loved to make that run.” Chris chuckled around a mouthful of cake.

“As bandit?” Luca grinned, “Would not have liked those jeans thought…”

Chris chuckled, “You know what, I’ve never seen you in anything else than baggy pants and shorts…”

“Yeah, and there’s a few good reasons for it!” Luca chuckled, “One: It’s not comfortable. Two: There’s very few guys who can pull it off, I’m not one of them. And three: I would never live it down at home, my folks would have teased me until I died.”

Chris chuckled, “Yeah, it’s really not something that’ll pull ladies nowadays. Guess the 70’s were different.”

Luca nodded a bit, “Would’ve loved to take a run in the Firebird though…”

“I could really picture you in that truck as well.”

“The Kenworth?” Luca flashed a grin, “Oh, you know I love driving big rigs as well. Bet it would be a good time.”

Chris chuckled, “Have you always been this into cars and trucks?”

“I guess…” Luca shrugged, “I can’t remember not being interested in anything with wheels and motors.”

“Anything with wheels and motors?”

Luca spent a couple of seconds debating it, “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Motorcycles as well?”

Luca nodded, “Yeah, used to have one. But I traded her for my truck a few years back. The last couple of apartments I’ve lived in hasn’t exactly had the best places to park a bike.”

“But they had good enough parking to park a Chevy?”

Luca nodded, swallowing a piece of cake. “I would’ve had to park it outside the last place I lived. Same deal where I live now, come to think of it.”

Chris nodded, “What’s the coolest thing you’ve driven?”

“Was in the military for a short bit when I was young.”

“I didn’t know…”

“Yeah, I never made it as far as Hondo. I always knew I wanted to join SWAT, but I figured I could learn a lot about tactics that way.” Luca shrugged, “And I got some traveling and world seeing out of my system.”

Chris nodded.

“But yeah, I got to drive a few tanks, MRAP’s…” Luca shrugged, “Even an old truck which looked like it should have been retired after the first world war…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“How long were you in?”

“From I graduated high school and until I was in my mid-twenties…”

“So about three years then?” Chris teased.

“Hah, funny.” Luca actually laughed at Chris’s sting, “No, ended up staying for like seven years.”

“How come you never talk about it?”

He shrugged a little.

“I mean, most guys almost present themselves with their time in the military.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Luca shrugged, “But, it’s not really something I think much about. It’s ancient history by now. Besides, as soon as I finished the police academy, I was definitely a cop, not a soldier.”

Chris nodded, sensing that the truth might have been that there was stuff Luca just didn’t want to talk about. She was curious, but she could respect it.

“Enough about that, let’s just…” he shrugged, “-Watch the movie and eat awesome cake.”

Chris nodded and served herself another square of cake.

Luca almost sighed, when he realized he might have come off as if he didn’t want to talk at all while they watched the movie they both had seen so many times before. “I’m sorry. I just don’t talk or think about that period of my life a lot.”

She nodded. She wanted to ask the reason, but didn’t.

“Let’s just talk about something entirely different.” He shrugged, “Favorite NFL team?”

“Oh, Texans. -All the way!” Chris grinned, happy to get the conversation back on something which would go a lot smoother, “Yours?”

“Texans has a few good players. Got to admit that, but I’ve got to say Raiders.”

“Oakland Raiders, really?”

“Yeah.” Luca nodded, “I grew up cheering for the Raiders. Hasn’t had a good reason to stop.”

“When was the last time they had a good season?”

“They had a dry-spell…” Luca shrugged, “You can’t stop loving a team for just that, plus, I think they’re coming out of it. The new QB looks like he has great potential.”

They ended up discussing football for a while, and then other stuff for a while.

SWATSWATSWAT

Before she decided to go to bed, she got up and rummaged through the closet of her guest room. It acted like a mini-storage unit. She found exactly what she was looking for. Her crutches.

She returned to the living room and placed them next to where Luca was seated, “Figured you could use these… But you’re going to have to adjust them yourself.”

“Thank you.”

She gave him a solid pat on the shoulder, “I guess you’re going to be up for a while longer, you know how to work the TV and all… Anything you need right now, except to switch out that cold pack on your knee, which must be near room-temp at this point?”

He shook his head, but picked up the now liquid filled bag from his knee, “Nah, I’m good. But yeah, if you could switch this out for a cold one, that would be awesome.”

She nodded and took the bag, heading towards the kitchen to toss the warm one in the freezer and to bring back a frozen one.

SWATSWATSWAT*SWATSWATSWAT

She woke up fairly early the next morning. She never really considered herself awake before she had her first cup of coffee in the morning, so setting the coffeemaker to work was her first stop of the day. Even before she went to the bathroom.

When she returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, she pulled a mug out of the cupboard and poured up a cup before placing the glass carafe back so the machine could drip itself done.

She walked over to the couch and sat down. She turned the television on, and switched it over to the news channel.

The news showed a lot of politics stuff, but nothing she would have had to worry about if she was headed in to work that day. And definitely nothing that would warrant a recall.

The news had just started its first repeat when she heard Luca stir inside the guest room. She figured he would like a cup of coffee as well, when he was finished dressing and had made it out of the guest room.

She stood back up and prepared a cup for Luca as well.

He came hobbling out of the guest room a few minutes later, and Chris could barely keep herself from laughing.

“How are you doing?” she asked, still working to keep herself from smiling too much.

“Good.” He squinted over at her, they both knew it was just the reflexive answer and not necessarily how he really felt.

“You look like an extra in Walking Dead.”

He paused to rub at his eyes with one hand, before trying to muster up a more awake look. “Feel like one too…”

She nodded and tilted her head, “The crutches seem a little short for you…”

“Yeah, newsflash: I kinda have the tall version of crutches at home.” He chuckled a little.

She nodded, “How’s your knee.”

“Bruised.” He frowned, “Sore. Stiff.”

“Are you able to put weight on it?”

“Able, yes.” He nodded a bit, “Willing to do it, no…”

She chuckled a bit. “Do you want breakfast?”

He shook his head a little.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, please.” He smiled.

“Alright, sit down and I’ll fix you some.”

“Actually, I need to go in there first…” he said, nodding in the direction of the bathroom.

She nodded.

SWATSWATSWAT

15 minutes later they both sat in the couch. Luca was sipping on his coffee, Chris was eating her breakfast. She had made sure to offer Luca something to drink a few more times, but he still didn’t want any. She had found a frozen icepack for his knee, which he gladly accepted.

“Ready to get checked out by a doctor today?”

“I don’t need it…”

“Luca…” Chris sighed and crossed her arms, “You really should get it checked out. You’re in pain.”

He sighed.

“You could have a small break, or something else going on… It’s best to get it checked out straight away.”

“Okay-okay-okay…” he rolled his eyes a bit, “You win.”

“Thank you…” Chris grinned, “You think you’ll be ready to go in a half hour?”

He nodded, “Sure.”

SWATSWATSWAT

She dropped him off at the hospital and picked him up again a few hours later, after he had been checked out by a doctor and had taken X-rays and an MRI.

She got out of her car to meet him, when he came out of the massive building and started to hobble towards her.

“How did it go?”

“At least it’s not broken…” he answered as he paused to shrug.

“That’s good, but it sounds like there’s some bad news there as well…”

Luca nodded, “Yeah, tore something inside my knee. Might heal on its own, but the doctor figured I had torn it bad enough that it wouldn’t heal without surgery.”

“Ouch…” She frowned, “What was it you tore?”

“It had a weird name, can’t really remember it.” He shrugged, “It basically acts like a bumper cushion or shock absorber for your knee.”

“Meniscus?”

“That sounds about right…” he nodded, “How did you know?”

“My cousin tore one of his, playing football in high school…” Chris shrugged.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he got the surgery. He’s all good now.” Chris smiled, “Playing college football and all.”

“Cool…” Luca grinned, “Thanks by the way…”

“For what?”

“For being an awesome friend, letting me crash at your place and forcing me to go to the doctor.” Luca smiled.

“Hey, we’ve gotta look out for our family, right?” Chris grinned, “I have to make sure my ‘older brothers’ get the care they need.”

Luca grinned, “I guess we’re all lucky to have you as our kid sister then…”

“So, do you want to crash at my place a few more nights?”

“Shit, I should really call Buck about this…” Luca stopped dead in his tracks, “I’m not going to be up for going to work tomorrow…”

“Well, duh…” Chris almost chuckled, “But do you want to stay at my place a few more nights, or?”

“Can I?”

“I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t mean it…” she chuckled and bumped her knuckles against his upper arm, “Of course you can.”

“Thank you…”

“But maybe you would like it if we stopped by your apartment and picked up your crutches, and some extra clothes?”

“That would be beyond awesome…”

“Alright, then we do that.” She nodded, “I can go up and grab your stuff while you call Buck and explain things.”

“You’re too kind. I really didn’t look forward to those stairs…”

“I know.”

#Swat fanfiction #swat #s.w.a.t #Luca #dominic luca #dominique luca #Chris #chris alonso #hurt #injury #crutches #sleepover #fanfic #fanfiction #hurt comfort #hurtcomfort #h/c #pre-series

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miscellaneous-miraculous · 4 years

Text

Painted Lady Chapter 6

Read on AO3 here

Adrien made his own nest on the couch while he waited for Marinette, complete with his Ladybug blanket, Marinette’s big cat pillow, and several textbooks. Alya and Nino had both gone to sleep figuring that Marinette would just want to crash whenever she got home, but Adrien wanted to get head start on studying anyways so he decided to wait up. The next two days were bound to be busy, akumas were unpredictable, and he needed all the time he could get studying for his Analog Electronics and Quantum Mechanics courses. The senior capstone for his business major would take up time, but from how his physics capstone had gone, it wouldn’t be too hard. His two lighter classes, one business and other a general requirement, had the later finals, so he wasn’t even going to think about them until after he got through the others – maybe some light skimming if he had time. But once those were over, he would be done. Part of him was still panicking that he didn’t know what he was going to do after school. There were a lot of things he wanted, things he liked, but they didn’t all connect easily.

The only constants were Marinette and the miraculous. Whatever Adrien did, he wanted to be by her side. For now, that meant staying in Paris and retrieving the butterfly miraculous from Painted Lady. He had already switched his major several times, entering as a business major per his father’s demands, then to switching physics, then going to a physics and business double major as he apprenticed with Tom and Sabine during the summer. “I guess flexibility is the next thing to consider?” Adrien said, voicing his thoughts to Plagg. “I have to be able to leave for akuma attacks and Marinette and I both want kids someday. I want to be able to spend as much time with them as I can.”

“I say you become a professional cheese maker,” Plagg said. “Then no one would think it was odd if you smelled like camembert all the time.”

“Very helpful,” Adrien rolled his eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"My wielders haven’t always been welcomed with open arms you know,” Plagg said. “A lot of them didn’t stay in one place for very long. This is a little new for me too.”

Adrien flopped back onto the couch, closing his textbook for the night. Rather than talking, Plagg curled up on his chest and purred softly. It still shocked him sometimes, to realize Plagg had the ability to purr. It shouldn’t have, given that Chat Noir had the ability and definitely didn’t come from Adrien, but Plagg didn’t do it often. He still remembered when Tikki had first seen him and Plagg interact for a while. She’d looked so happy, her eyes practically shinning. ‘Plagg isn’t usually very affectionate with his wielders, he must really trust you.’

The door clicked open and Marinette walked in, pulling him from his thoughts. Her hair was frazzled, a few scraps of fabric sticking to it with static electricity, and there was a large coffee stain on her shirt. “Hey,” she smiled, giving a limp wave. She kicked off her shoes, letting the bag she carried slide off her shoulder and onto the floor. “Alya and Nino asleep?”

“Yeah, they waited up for a while, but they didn’t want to fall asleep at your show.” Adrien closed his textbook. “Speaking of which, you look about ready to collapse, want me to carry you to bed?” He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously.

Marinette gave a soft laugh, rolling her eyes, “I think we’d both rather I showered first. I haven’t gotten one in three days.”

“We’ve seen worse,” Adrien shrugged. Garbage themed akumas didn’t exactly lend themselves to clean battles. “Your pajamas and towel are on the bed though, fresh from the wash.”

“It’s still Sunday, right?” Marinette asked, wide-eyed in a sudden state of panic. Wednesday was their usual laundry day.

Adrien laughed, “Yeah, I just did an extra load.” He knew Marinette loved the feeling of clothes fresh from the dyer, especially when she felt dirty.

“I love you so much right now.”

“It’s just laundry.” Adrien blushed, pushing his glasses back. It wasn’t really a big deal, but Marinette was looking at him like he’d just professed his eternal undying love for her (which he would in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t the point). Then again, tired Marinette would also sell her firstborn for a cup of coffee, so maybe she wasn’t the best judge.

Marinette walked over, squishing his face between her palms. He could see the dark circles under her eyes, and the tips of her fingers were covered in band-aids from poking herself with the needles. She only did that when she was really tied. “A literal angel on earth,” she said, her face serious, then she gave him a quick peck on the lips before heading into the bathroom.

Tikki flew out from the bag she had left by the door, looking happier than usual. “Plagg, it’s happening! She’d developed another power!”

“Already?”

“While she was working on her project – it was just, pure creation. I haven’t felt it in ages, Plagg, ages!” Tikki spun in the air. “I can’t wait to see which power it’ll be.”

“Marinette unlocked another power?” Adrien asked.

“Yes, I’m not sure if she noticed, she was so absorbed in her work, but whatever it is will manifest the next time she transforms. Oh, I can’t wait!”

“She got the luck last time, I bet you a slice of camembert this one’s the wings,” Plagg said.

“Not the shield?” Tikki asked. “That’s what Lành and Jeanne both got first, and Marinette reminds me most of them.”

“I thought the turtle was the shield?” Adrien said, his brow knotted.

“Eh, the Ladybug and Black Cat both have a version,” Plagg said. “They all function a bit differently, and the turtle’s is a lot stronger and more versatile, but the Ladybug and Black Cat need something for when it’s not active.”

“Do we have versions of the other powers then too?”

“Not really,” Tikki said. “Protection just is a concept that plays into many things. Wyazz was the first to come into existence after Plagg and I after all.”

“Huh,” Adrien said. He’d had classes where people debated the mechanics of Ladybug’s miraculous cure and Chat Noir’s cataclysm, whether it was magic or science. Adrien didn’t see why it couldn’t be both, the two could coexist in the same universe. The Kwamis themselves sometimes made his brain spin though. He’d tried to talk to Plagg about it once but the kwami wasn’t all that helpful. “I’m going to go get ready to sleep.”

Maybe he could convince Marinette to transform later just to see what the new power would be, Plagg and Tikki had gotten him curious. They had said there was no way to force a bond to come faster, but maybe if Alya could find a way to tap into ‘pure illusion’ somehow? Marinette understood creation which in turn made her understand Tikki, so wouldn’t the same idea work for Alya and Trixx? But what was illusion at it’s core? It couldn’t be something as easy as going to see a magic show or Alya would’ve done that already – and he wasn’t sure she hadn’t tried, so it had to be something more.

By the time Marinette came back, he wasn’t any closer to solving it and she noticed his pout. As she got under the covers, she pressed a kiss to his temple, “Is something wrong? You’ve got the same look as when you’re trying to solve physics problems.”

“It’s miraculous stuff, we can talk about it some other time,” Adrien said, not wanting to distract her with half-baked theories right before her final. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her waist, his head resting on her chest. “After everyone is blown away by your amazing designs.”

“I don’t remember half the stitches I’ve done since yesterday,” Marinette said, and Adrien could hear the catastrophe building in her voice.

“I’m going to cut you off there,” he said, moving back to press a finger to her lips. “Your designs are awesome, Marinette, and I bet you could fix any disaster with a safety pin and one hand tied behind your back. You’re going to be fine.”

“I’m going to be fine,” Marinette repeated, nodding to herself. “I’m going to be fine.”

“Yeah you are,” Adrien said, pulling her close again. Marinette snuggled closer, yawning as Adrien put an arm around her waist. He gave a her a light kiss, “Goodnight, ma cherie.”

Marinette was asleep before she could respond.

Continue on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580646/chapters/62459155

#painted lady au #butterfly!lila #adrinette #post hawkmoth defeat #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #ladynoir #djwifi #hints of chloegami #chloe bourgeois #miraculous ladybug #fic #long fic #future fic #my writing

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 4 years

Text

Chapter 48: To The Secret Lab!

Becoming The Mask

Stephan's footsteps echoed more loudly than usual in the base's deserted hallways. He was tempted to change his gait, to step lightly so he'd make less noise, but on the other hand it wasn't smart to sneak up on a Changeling you weren't planning to fight. Anyway, the bag of canned goods he was carrying would clank no matter how he carried it.

"Bernie? It's Stephan," he called when he neared the laboratory. The doors were standing open.

"Excellent timing, I need some fresh eyes."

Stephan gulped. He was pretty sure Bernie meant 'a new person to look over things, because fresh perspective can catch something an older, more tired perspective missed', but it was also possible the Alchemist actually needed eyeballs for something.

"There's goggles by the door," Bernie continued.

Stephan put on a set, and after a moment's thought grabbed a hairnet as well.

His hair wasn't long enough to tie back easily but it was long enough to potentially get caught on something. It felt a bit silly to put goggles over his mask, but the lab safety rules were clearly displayed by the goggle rack – goggles and close-toed shoes were mandatory for entrance. There were some modified goggles and plastic booties for use while troll-shaped.

He left the grocery bag on an empty shoe-rack. It would be out of the way there.

"I wasn't sure what your food situation was, so I brought some stuff. Canned tuna, mostly." Cans were shelf-stable and could be eaten in troll or human shape.

"Thanks, Stephan. I'm well supplied, but it was thoughtful of you." Bernie was currently human-shaped, surrounded by neatly sorted rubble and writing something on a clipboard. "Xe/xir at the moment, by the way."

"Is that with an X or with a Z?" asked Stephan, not sure if there was a significant difference, but ready to believe there could be since Bernie was bothering to bring this up.

"An X. You know, you're one of maybe five people who've ever asked me that."

"Okay. Cool. Uh, he/him for me, still."

"Got it." Bernie made a decisive last pen stroke, clicked the pen, and turned to xir guest-slash-assistant. "I've been sorting pieces, checking to see if anything's recognizable. As you can see," gesturing towards on grouping of stones, "the hooves, legs, and loincloth can mostly be identified, as can the claws," indicating another, pointier collection. "But I can't seem to find Bular's horns or face. I keep recounting the skulls from his belt and checking our video footage of him to make sure I didn't mix him up with one of them somehow."

A set of skulls, on the table in front of Bernie beside the probably-legs, were either surprisingly intact or mostly reassembled.

Stephan was suddenly, vividly reminded of his early days on the surface, sorting jigsaw puzzles with his Familiar's family. His youngest sister in particular had had a knack for seeing which edges ought to match up.

"Do I need gloves?"

"Wouldn't hurt. I haven't been using them. They don't switch over properly." Bernie crackled blue, and the tall, hefty human became a tall, hefty troll – still small compared to a Gumm-Gumm, but probably quite respectably sized for whichever group xe'd been taken from – and held up xir hands to demonstrate.

Stephan could see why Bernie might have trouble with gloves. Xir hands were bigger now, for one, which would stretch out the latex if xe carried the gloves over through the transformation rather than having different gloves on as a troll, and then xe would have to change xir gloves once they changed to human – plus, Bernie had four-digit rather than five-digit hands as a troll, so the extra glove finger would either flap loose or need to be taped down, which would also increase the odds of the gloves being damaged after shapeshifting back and forth.

It was a lot of trouble to go through when you weren't working with something caustic or reactive to the oils in human skin.

"Why are you wearing … that, though?" Stephan asked, gesturing up and down.

Bernie's lab coat had carried over between forms. It was loose on xir as a human, and now fit better. The lime green coat, with neon pink and yellow flowers printed around the hem and on the cloth-covered buttons, had looked odd on a human and even stranger on a purplish-blue troll.

"Oh, I keep a bunch of colourful ones in stock, in case I'm ever running tests on someone who's had a bad experience in a lab and doesn't like the white coats. Attempted vivisection, usually. Gets people all mixed up, conflating Mad Scientists and Evil Scientists."

Bernie shook xir head.

"Vivisection is the stupidest starting point for a xenobiological study. Surgery is complicated. Aside from risk of infection and the complications of dosing anesthesia for an unknown organism – since they'll definitely die of traumatic shock if you don't anesthetize – looking at organs only makes sense if you already know what you're supposed to be seeing."

Xe paced around the lab, gesturing with the clipboard.

"At best, you'll set yourself up for confirmation bias about any superficial parallels between the new and the known, and at worst you'll have no idea what you're looking at and kill off your test subject. I mean, I understand if it's just a thinly-veiled excuse to commit torture for the sake of torture, but as a scientist that offends me for other reasons."

"… So, why are you wearing it now?" Stephan looked around, suddenly wary. "Do you have a live test subject down here?" How restrained are they? How vengeful are they?

Bernie seemed startled at the reminder xe was having a conversation rather than talking to xirself.

"Oh – no, I just got bored of how monochromatic the base is. Plus changing how I'm dressed helps keep the days from blurring together."

"Ah."

Stephan made a mental note to visit more often.

He started looking through the shattered remains. He didn't shapeshift. Stephan had a lot of protruding teeth in troll form, not just tusks, and it could be a challenge not to drool on things. His mask would catch some of it if he kept it on, but then he's be stuck in a slimy mask when he changed back.

He picked up each stone, one by one, and turned it this way and that. Sometimes he found an identifiable feature – an elbow spur, a shoulder ridge – and pointed it out to Bernie. That got part of one arm put back together, or maybe a smaller percentage of both arms. If Stephan didn't find anything distinct, he would carefully put the stone back exactly where Bernie'd had it before, and move on to the next one.

"It's weird that his swords aren't here," said Stephan after a while.

"He could've been disarmed in the fight."

"Yeah, but then Stricklander would've brought the swords back along with the body. And if they'd turned to stone with him, there should be – some sheets, or plates, or something. Flat rocks matching up to the blades. Those things were huge."

Unless …

"Unless the Trollhunter took them, after killing him," Stephan said slowly. "You know, battle trophies." His eyes were drawn to the row of skulls Bular had worn to show off his own battle prowess. "Hunting trophies … What if the reason we can't find his head, is because the Trollhunter has it?"

"Well, that would probably narrow down the cause of death to decapitation," said Bernie, in a detached, academic sort of tone. "Although that can also be done post-mortem, it would be more difficult to remove an intact head, since the stone is more brittle once it dies."

"Which could explain the state of the rest of the body." Stephan shuddered. Gunmar was going to be so angry …

+=+

After two searches through Bular's remains, Stephan could barely tell the stones apart anymore. It looked like there should be more than enough to rebuild Bular, but jigsaws always looked bigger than they were when the pieces were all spread out, and Stephan and Bernie still couldn't find Bular's head.

Stephan was leaning on his 'hunting trophy' theory. There had to be a reason their greatest enemy was called the Trollhunter, right?

Something beeped. Stephan, more tightly wound than he'd realized, jumped and turned trollish in a flash of silver.

He was dark grey, as a troll, with a crown of stubby lighter grey horns instead of hair. His mask got pushed away from his face by his overlong teeth. His goggles clattered to the floor. His ears went back at the additional noise.

"It's okay, Stephan," said Bernie, gently, as though to a spooked animal. "That just means it's break time. Come on." Bernie reached out as though to pat Stephan on the arm, though they were on opposite sides of the room. "I'm going to meditate. I'd rather not leave you alone in the lab, no offence."

Stephan blinked a few times and tried breathing slow and deep, to settle his heart rate.

"Okay. Yeah. Let's go."

Both of them changed to human form as they left the laboratory. Bernie sealed the blast doors and herded Stephan to the next floor up, to a small square room with a gramophone in the center and low white benches around the walls.

Stephan picked the bench opposite Bernie's, both Changelings with their sides to the door.

The record was moving slowly, though the needle wasn't touching it and neither Changeling had wound the crank on the side.

Bernie seemed entirely at ease, waiting, listening for the Pale Lady's voice.

Stephan tried to let go of the resentment that kept bubbling up inside him.

For all Bernie had seemed to be lonely and pining for conversation when Stephan first arrived, xe certainly didn't seem to need Stephan around anymore. Stephan had hardly proven his mettle with how he'd overreacted to a harmless alarm. Helping with the 'rebuild Bular' project was the one thing Stephan could do for the Order right now, and he had barely contributed.

He didn't know how to help.

He just wanted to help.

Please … he begged Morgana in his mind. My Queen. Your Ladyship. Mother. Tell me what you need of me. Let me know how I can help you.

A side compartment of the gramophone table opened. A drawer slid out.

Both Changelings got up and leaned in to look without touching anything.

The drawer held an orange crystal, faintly glowing. The room hadn't changed temperature or décor, but somehow felt more comfortable. Bernie got out a pen and touched the crystal with the button end. Nothing happened.

"Is this …" for us? Stephan couldn't quite say out loud. "Are we supposed to take it? Do something with it?"

"I think it's Heartstone." Bernie touched it with a pinkie finger this time. Again, nothing appeared to happen.

Stephan backed off and sat back down. Heartstone? Really? Here? How? That stuff was legendary. He'd only half-believed it was real.

Bernie turned trollish and touched the stone with xir last finger, to no visible effect, and then picked it up. The drawer closed itself and the compartment shut over it.

Bernie held the crystal out to Stephan and urged, "Touch it."

Stephan got up and followed Bernie's lead, transforming and tapping the crystal cautiously with one finger. He staggered back and sat again.

"Whoa."

If Heartstone was a thing, that was definitely what this thing was. Stephan had been overloaded with a sense of safety and contentment. It was actually kind of scary to think about once he wasn't touching it anymore – he would have let his guard down entirely to bask in whatever the stone was radiating.

Maybe it was actually some kind of trap?

Except a trap – if it was a lotus-eater type trap – the trap would logically drain his energy, and Stephan felt invigorated. He wanted to do something. He felt like he could do anything.

"It's supposed to enhance a troll's life force, somehow," said Bernie, waving vaguely with xir free hand. "Possibly like how reptiles need warmth to regulate their metabolism, or how humans need sunlight to produce Vitamin D. Or it could just be a stimulant."

"I heard Lord Gunmar was born from the first one," said Stephan. "Maybe that was a metaphor and trolls need … Heartstone radiation … to be fertile? That would explain why we aren't."

'We' meaning 'Changelings'. Although, if Stephan was right, maybe that meant Changelings could … become fertile? Probably not from a brief touch of a small stone, but, in the future, with regular contact?

Bernie was still holding it.

"If it feeds trolls, maybe it eats them as well," xe speculated. "Feeding troll remains into it could make it grow. Like how plants do best if there's decaying animal matter in the soil."

Stephan nodded. He'd skimmed an article in a gardening magazine a while back about using blood meal to grow better roses.

"There's some connection, I don't know what exactly, but I know it's there." Bernie turned the stone over with a thoughtful expression. "I wish I had more to experiment with. Ideally five. A control group with nothing, of course, one fed with analogous minerals that weren't sourced from a troll, one fed with Changeling dust –"

"You have –? What am I saying, of course you do."

"– one with Grave Sand, and one with Bular's remains."

Wait, what?

"I don't know if Otto would like that."

"That experiment would have to wait until after the autopsy," said Bernie, reminded once more that xe wasn't just talking to xirself.

"… Do you think it could bring him back to life?"

"Unlikely but possible."

Stephan had never encountered the undead, to his knowledge, but he made a point of bringing garlic-rich food into work at the crematorium, and keeping a box of salt in his desk. (He'd read somewhere that, if a zombie tasted salt, they would remember they were dead, go back into their grave, and resist further attempts to summon them.) He probably wouldn't have much to worry about in his troll form, but his coworkers did not share this advantage.

"You know," said Bernie, "if this is emitting anything, I could probably adjust a Geiger counter to pick up on it. Let's get it back to the lab."

+=+

Bernie's first step was to scan the Heartstone with every instrument the Janus Order had and record its exact dimensions. Stephan was more of a witness than an assistant for that part.

He felt much more useful during the Geiger counter modifications. Bernie needed an extra pair of hands for some steps, and neither of them were a troll type with more than two arms. Stephan did have a prehensile tail, but it had broken a few times back in the Darklands and he couldn't flex it very well anymore to deal with things in front of him.

The alterations to the machine were more magic than tech. Bernie opened up a few sections and moved things around, extracting wires and inserting crystals and writing tiny cramped symbols here and there. Stephan held things out of the way that weren't being fully removed, and balanced pieces while Bernie attached them, and moved the Heartstone around the room for Bernie to recalibrate various settings.

Bernie put in something like a compass below the dial, so the holder couldn't only see how strong and close the Heartstone's readings were, but also which direction it was in. The compass was a sphere of rutilated quartz, with the gold-coloured acicular inclusions all going the same way. The sphere's mounting let it indicate directions in three dimensions.

It took four tries and six hours to cobble together a working model. Short-range only. Despite the Heartstone's properties, which did not seem to fade after prolonged contact, Stephan was barely keeping his eyes open.

n a surprising show of trust, Bernie let him nap in the apartment connected to the lab while Bernie typed up a report on today's findings.

Well, maybe it wasn't so surprising. Stephan, asleep, would be in a far more vulnerable position than Bernie would be from allowing another Changeling unsupervised in xir private space. If Stephan tried to leave some sort of trap, or go snooping while tired and set off a trap Bernie had left, well …

Bernie was also the Changeling primarily in charge of making any poisons the local Janus Order branch couldn't get through human channels. Stephan taking advantage of Bernie's trust would end far worse for him then it would for xir.

In any case, Stephan accepted the risk and took the nap, not wanting to drive home while tired. Bernie woke him half an hour later, and they went together to return the Heartstone piece to the gramophone room and to drop off a report in Otto's office.

Stephan carried the Geiger counter so Bernie could get a better idea of its range. It lost track of the Heartstone piece once they were most of the way down the hall. Bernie's hands were occupied with paperwork and a set of lockpicks. It was funny to see lockpicks carried so openly.

"Do you often break into the offices?" asked Stephan.

"I'm nearly certain I've been in every room of this base at least once."

"Recently?"

"I have been living down here. It's in my interests to double-check the security systems."

Stephan kept his eyes from rolling too obviously, but felt his mouth twitch in a small, brief grin.

When Otto's door opened, the Geiger counter – Bernie said xe was going to rename it, xe just hadn't yet – began beeping up a storm. The Changelings looked at each other and followed the compass needle to a bookcase, then a specific shelf, and finally behind a book.

"Well," said Bernie, "now I can double-check all my readings. I'll have to revise my report."

"How many more Heartstones are hidden around the base?" Stephan wondered.

"We should do a sweep. It'll probably take a couple of days. When do you have to leave and when can you next be here?"

"I have this week off. I can stay until," Stephan checked the date on his phone, "nine tomorrow evening before I'm expected anywhere." He and some work friends were planning to go to a bar for trivia night.

"Alright. We'll head back to the lab and you can take another nap while I do the scans and report revisions, and once you're awake we can sort out the order of the sweep."

"I should be good to go for –"

"You can't collect accurate data while sleep deprived."

"When's the last time you slept?"

"I woke up about ten minutes before you got here."

That explained why the laboratory had smelled of coffee.

+=+

Previous Chapter (Shattered King backstory, as commemorated by the Quagawumps)

Table Of Contents

Next Chapter (Jim gets Gunmar's Eye)

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Becoming The Mask chapters #Changelings #original character #rocks minerals crystals and gemstones #There are many names for Pale Lady Morgana Argante Baba Yaga Mistress Of Shadows The Eldritch Queen #My Fanfiction #Monday is fanfic day!

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ladymelissaduthe · 4 years

Text

Challenge #1.5

aka The Fic Where Arin Gets Stuck With Missy In An Inescapable Location (accidentally)

a/n: weirdly specific title, but It’ll make sense when I post Challenge 2, I promise AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA This was a really fun RP and fic to write, though it was slightly difficult what with the lack of visual cues in terms of writing,,, that’s what happens when you set something in the dark. ANYWHOS, thank you Anna @arin-schreave for this RP and for running with my crackhead ideas NJKSDNDKJD Anywhos, hope you enjoy this funny little fic ,,, also I promise everything about the ring ™™™™ will be revealed soon SJKNDKJKD (2,684 words)

For a place that was twenty times the size of my own home back in Orleans, I was running out of things I could do in the palace. I was so desperate, I was actually in the library of all places.

Sure, there were the regular Women’s Room lessons for the day but we usually ended whatever was the day’s lessons early. Against the usual urge to scroll through my phone, learning a Tiktok dance in a gown wasn’t exactly the easiest. Doing the renegade was going to wait for a more casual day in the palace.

So I was in the library, browsing the bookcases and jeopardizing my poor immune system to some allergic rhinitis around these books.

There were a few books with interesting titles: The Creativity Crisis, 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Business Process Re-engineering in Illéa to name a few.

The title that catches my attention though had a green spine, lined with gold. Embroidery Patterns from America. Huh, you don’t hear that name everyday. I could check it out and show it to my maids. Maybe try it out and do them myself on a dress I have.

I reach up for the book, extending my arms above me. I lean against the case for some support as I reach for it. It seemed stuck on the shelf though, not seeming to fully budge out of its place.

I try to pull it again, suddenly feeling the case slide open. Huh?

The next thing I know, I’m on the ground of a dark hallway and hearing the case slide close behind me, and the light leave the entire space. Oh no.

Where was I?

Why was it so dark? Oh Gosh, the floor felt like it hasn’t seen a vacuum cleaner in a decade.

I couldn’t make out where I was exactly, but it was dusty and smelled like one of those old historical houses in Orleans tourists would visit all the time

I try to look around and feel for the way I came through.

“Hello!” my voice seems to echo in the space. Maybe if I kept on yelling someone could get me outta here. “Help!”

“Can anyone help me?!” I yell again, hoping someone passing by the case would hear me. I try banging against the wall, sounding almost hollow. It sounded like wood.

“Hello!” I call out again. Please someone GET ME OUT OF HERE.

I keep on trying to yell to get anyone to realize I was trapped here. Was this… a dungeon? Did the palace keep prisoners here? Oh Gosh, I was going to get stuck here. Questions later. I needed to get outta here.

A knock.

I’m saved! I could kiss whoever was going to get me out of here. Or not, cause that sounded like treason.

“Hello! Is someone else there?!” Please get me out of here ASAP, I’m pretty sure there are spiders here.

“This isn’t funny. I don’t care if Ayesha put you up to it, knock it off.”

Are you flipping kidding me? Who the hell was Ayesha?

“Uh… I can’t quite knock it off!” I feel something crawl along my feet and like any normal person… I scream. “I REALLY DON’T LIKE IT IN HERE! PLEASE I JUST FELL THROUGH THE WALL!”

“Really the jig is up.” I hear shuffling from the other side. Did they really just???

“This ain’t no dance sweetheart! PLEASE JUST HELP ME GET OUTTA HERE! I THINK THERE ARE SpidE-ERS!” I feel something crawl across my feet and I pound my fist against the wall again, “THIS ISN’T A JOKE! HELP!”

Silence.

It was quiet from the other side. Did…. They…. Just…. Leave me here?

I bang my fists against the wall again. “Hello?! HELLO???? HELLOOOOOOO!!!”

Footsteps sound like they’re fading away. Oh no, I was going to be trapped here forever. I didn’t even write a will yet. Oh Gosh, I haven’t even gotten married yet. I was gonna get trapped in this weird dark hallway for the rest of my life.

No. If no one was going to get me out of here, I was going to get myself out of here. The way my voice echoed meant that I was in a huge space. Maybe if I just… walked down?

And get even more lost?

Maybe if I—

I jump at the sudden motion of the wall. The wall in front of me suddenly gives way and opens, LIGHT. I see light…

“Hello…?”

“Oh thank sweet baby Jesus,” I say walking towards the opening, towards the light…

… and Arin Schreave.

I pick up my jaw from the floor before I quickly try to push some of my hair behind my ears. Oh of all times, Arin Schreave had to see me covered in dust bunnies? Not cute… AT ALL.

“ah… hello!”

Oh wow. This looked more like a hallway with a little more light shined on it… still very dusty.

The prince takes another step into this hallway, until I see the door starting to close behind him. I feel myself jump at the sound of the door shutting. Once again, the room was blanketed in darkness.

“Shit.”

“Nonononono!” I run back to where the door was, looking for something, anything, to get us out of here. Come on. All the escape room games have some kind of button to press. Maybe the prince knew something.

“Do these not open from this side…” MANNERS. “… your highness?”

“Uh…” I hear a sigh come from my right. “There’s a button somewhere around here but I don’t quite remember where.” So he did know something.

I hear a couple of steps grow louder from the direction of his voice, until I feel myself stumble backward. Did he just run into me? I reach for the wall to keep myself from toppling over. Oh. There was a hand on my waist.

“Oof, uh, sorry.” I try to move closer to the wall to avoid bumping into him. Why did it suddenly get so hot? Must be my allergies.

“No, that was my fault.” I could start making out his silhouette, moving close to the wall too. The hand around my waist was gone too.

I clear my throat, and push some of my hair back. Oh of all people to have heard me, it had to be Arin Schreave.

“I suppose you were the one on the other side of the wall I was talking to?”

“Uh, yes… I was… sorry I didn’t believe you.”

I wring my hands. I wouldn’t have believed this happened if it didn’t happen to me. “Well… whatever Ayesha may have pulled on you before… it must have been pretty bad for you to be this skeptical…”

A sigh. “I’m used to it.”

Thank God I was an only child.

Prince Arin goes silent for a moment before he says, “Just give me a minute to think?”

“Alrighty.” I suck in a breath and nod, going a little further down the wall. He said that there was a button around here. Maybe I could find it here. I try to run my hand through the wall, looking for an imperfection, a bump that could trigger the door to open.

“I think there’s a button on one of the wall, down by the floor.” I hear the prince speak up. I guess I was sort of right.

“Why would you put a switch down by the floor?” I ask. Well, there was nothing else I could do but crouch down and start feeling for it close to the floor. Ugh, all I could feel was the material of my dress pool to the ground. I try to push it away to try and keep on searching the wall.

“Not the way I thought I’d be spending this afternoon.” I laugh to myself. This was ridiculous.

“Trust me, I definitely didn’t plan for this.” I hear a sigh, “It’s near the floor so it doesn’t accidentally get pushed. It’ll feel like a small hole…”

I shake my head, hands still gliding through the wall, “Reasonable, but this is already a secret passageway. Not many people would press a button accidentally.”

I sneeze, “Oh wait.”

A small laugh from my left. “It’s uh… from when the country had rebels and the last thing you’d want to do is open one of these on accident if you were trapped inside.”

“Were rebels that much of a problem for you to have constructed these?” It had to be around here close to the door. “If I were a button… where would I be…”

“According to the history books I’ve read, yes. They were. But as a kid we used these tunnels during games of hide and seek.”

“I can tell from the dust, ” I sneeze on my elbow, “bunnies, that it’s probably been a long time since you played games here.” ACHOO! “And it’s been a while since rebels have attacked too, I guess.”

“Over 50 years… but I wouldn’t trust the dust bunnies. They could be harboring anti-monarchy sentiments.”

“Ah yes, rebellious dust bunnies. Practically planning anarchy through allergies and sticking onto your clothes unnecessarily.” I shake my head. I can’t believe this was my first conversation with the prince after meeting him… in a DARK, dusty, old, probably abandoned secret tunnel. ROMANTIC.

“They’re sneaky little buggers that make terrible pets.” I hear some shuffling from his side until I feel something bump into me.

“OOF!” I sneeze again into my elbow, before shuffling away from him. Come on Prince Arin, let’s practice some spatial awareness. “I just wanted to see some embroidery patterns. Who rigs a book of embroidery patterns to trigger a weird door?”

I sneeze, sitting up on the heels of my feet. I hate having allergies.

“Someone who doesn’t think embroidery is interesting I’m guessing.”

I lift a shoulder up, “Fair.”

I shake my head before going back to the wall and try feeling it for the button again. “It’s still fun though. Embroidery, I mean.”

“I don’t know much about it honestly.” I hear a grunt come from Arin.

ACHOO. “Just a needle and a thread honestly. That’s what my mama used to tell me.” I fumble through the wall, still looking for the button. “She used to be a seamtress before she married my dad.”

“Aha”

I hear a click before the door seems to slide open. Light. FRESH AIR.

“Oh thank God.” I breathe out a sigh of relief. I immediately stand up, albeit a bit wobbly, before I offer my hand to Arin.

He doesn’t take my hand, instead standing on his own and brushing off the dust from his pants. I tuck my hand in my other, dusting myself too.

His eyes then set on me. Oh I must look horrible. Of all times, it had to be a time where I didn’t look cute.

“Oh um… you have a little something right here.” He gestures to his head.

UGHHHHHH

“Oh,” I pat my head for whatever was there. “You also have um… what is… that…” I peer closer. It didn’t look like a speck of dust, it looked like it was moving. It had… legs?

“It’S A SPIDER.”

“oh!” I watch him quickly brush the spider off, but I watch as he swats it and gets accidentally flung at me.

I do what a normal would do in this situation.

I shriek, but I quickly swat it off my dress to the ground and running the HELL away from it. I then hear a small clinking sound. “Oh no…”

I look down to my right hand. My ring. It was gone.

Arin’s eyes follow the noise, he himself following after it to investigate.

Now this was awkward. I follow after where the sound stopped, where Arin bends down to look for the source.

“Um… I got it.” He seems to have found it, picking it up and straightens.

I step up to him and hold my palm open, “T-thank you. I can take this now.”

Oh great Melissa. Sure, a ring wasn’t going to give him any war flashbacks at all… or worse… make him start asking questions about it.

Arin clears his throat as he hands the ring to me. “Well, that’s not something you’d want to lose.”

“Nope,” I take the ring and slip it back on my right index finger. Why did I get it resized? That was a stupid decision, now it was way too big for any of my fingers. “It’s my Grammy’s ring.” I laugh slightly before looking back to him.

He nods. “Ah well… Maybe you should have it resized so you don’t lose it. Rings like that tend to be sentimental.”

It was sentimental, and trust me, it already has been resized.

I clench my right hand, making sure it wouldn’t slip off again.

“It doesn’t normally fall off, at least not all the time.” I tilt my head. “And yes, this one is really sentimental to me.”

I couldn’t bear to part with this piece.

“I can see that. It reminds me of my mom’s old wedding ring.” Arin says, and I notice him swallow nervously. “I just mean it’s pretty.”

I take a moment to blink at the wedding ring remark.

“Actually,” I laugh slightly. “this was my Grammy’s wedding ring.”

Grandpa said he saved for an entire year to buy her this ring. Back then, things weren’t so easy for them or his orchard.

I lift a shoulder, continuing. “It was my mom’s, and then it was passed down to me.” It was a thin gold band surrounded with little diamonds. No big jewel or anything. Just tiny little diamonds. Grandpa had some taste. I scrunch up my nose and breathe out a laugh. “Thank you… for calling it pretty.”

“Of course.” He nods a bit awkwardly before glancing to the door. “Did you want to get our of here?”

Oh right, I almost forgot.

“Yes, please.” I lift my skirt to move quicker to the door before it closed in on us again. I wasn’t gonna stuck in that room again. “Thank you again for helping me.”

ACHOO!

“Sorry for not believing you…”

Arin seems to follow behind me. As we both get out of the room, he shuts the door behind us. Good. I never wanted to see that tunnel again. Ever.

I lift a shoulder, “Easy mistake, I probably would have freaked out if I heard a voice from the other side of the wall and not believe that there was a secret hallway over there.” I gesture my head to the bookcase.

“Just try not to do it again.” A small smile appears on his face. He should smile more. “The dust bunnies might not be as friendly next time.”

“I’m more worried about the spiders.” ACHOO! “Might wanna ask a couple of maids to maybe spruce it up a bit, maybe add some nice lighting, maybe an exit sign inside.”

I end up sneezing again, can’t helping but laugh at the situation.

“There’re actually lights in there…”

“That could have been useful a couple of minutes ago.” I chuckle before ACHOO! “Well, that… was an adventure, but I think I need a hot shower to wash that hallway off.” Or a bubble bath, a bubble bath seemed nice.

I give Arin a quick curtsy with a smile, “Thank you again for getting me outta there, your highness.”

In turn, he gives me a smile and a nod. “Of course.” He gives me a bow. That’s.. a first. “I hope the rest of your day is better.”

To be honest, this… was actually fun. It was nice to get to interact with Arin.

“Have a nice day!” I nod once with a smile and spin on my heel, d lifting my skirt and heading straight to my room.

I had a feeling that things were going just fine with Arin. It was a start, that’s all I needed.

#((chekhov's ring))#selectionoc #selectionoc6 #arin tag #melissa duthe #missy fics #LMAO MISSY YOU THOUGHT #side rp tag

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clansayeed · 4 years

Text

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 9: A Puzzle with No Edges

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

The protection spell is cast, which means the time has come to identify their enemy. Easier said than done. Things get a little complicated when henchmen arrive with their eyes set on Cadence.

[READ IT ON AO3]

He’s ready to flinch away when Ryder presses the still-smoking charred end to the back of his hand — but doesn’t need to. The tightly-wound bundle of herbs is warm but doesn’t burn. Just leaves smeared black ash in its wake.

“Not to break your concentration or anything…”

“Then don’t.”

“Too late. This stuff isn’t permanent, is it? Like, it’ll come off?” All he can think is how so not happy the company director will be if he shows up to rehearsal with occult symbols twirling up his arms. Especially when the Oberon costume is pretty much sans shirt.

Ryder doesn’t stop as he carefully traces the symbols from Ivy’s borrowed tome. “And here I was thinkin’ you wanted to be protected.”

He does. “I do! I just —”

“Stop being an asshole, Ryder. Once the spell is complete it’ll basically act like a magical cloak. The smudge ash is just a conduit. You’ll be fine.”

Katherine leans over Taylor’s shoulder; watches with the curiosity of someone who doesn’t have anything better to do. And since she explained how, once she and Cadence were sure they were off the tail of Persephone’s — and Lady Smoke’s — henchmen, she was back on standby until the vampire had use of her again? She really doesn’t.

“Good to know.” Taylor sighs in relief; lets Ryder keep drawing.

He stops just below the crook of Taylor’s elbow and switches to the next arm. Taylor’s trying his best not to squirm but he can’t help it — this shit tickles! Makes him yank his arm to the side involuntarily.

Ryder just grunts, yanks, and wipes away the mistake with a bit of spit on the pad of his thumb.

“Ew.”

“Get over it.”

There’s a quick rap of knuckles on the open front door. Of the four apartments only two are in use so there’s not much worry about who it is.

Ryder pulls back and takes Taylor’s wrists in his. Inspects his work with gentle turns and doubled-back looks at the instructions in the book. Cal appears with a brief crinkle of his sensitive nose but smiles and waves nevertheless. Only when Taylor tries to wave back Nik grunts and holds his arm tighter.

“How goes it?” Cal takes up the empty armchair opposite them. Looks to Taylor like he knows what’s going on and isn’t that a laugh.

“Good, I think?” He leaves his words hanging in the hopes that Nik might take up the lead but… not exactly. “Sure, we’ll go with good.”

The Nighthunter tosses the half-burnt bundle into a silver dish. “That Hunter’s Sage was good shit, Lowell.”

“Does that mean it’s helping?”

He picks up the book and settles it in his lap; twirls a stone pendant in his fingers as he reads. “Time to find out.”

The fact that Katherine steps back doesn’t settle well in Taylor’s stomach. Even the smile she offers is only halfway reassuring. So instead he looks to the werewolf for comfort — and Cal holds his gaze like he’s holding Taylor’s hand to help him through it.

The air is thick with the lingering smell of charred herbs. Even with the windows open the muggy Southern evening makes the sweat on the back of his neck cling to him. Coats him tacky and unsure.

The fact that Ryder and Katherine can still wear their leather gear without complaint is either a serious power move or just plain supernatural. Both are viable options at this point.

Ryder wraps the pendant’s leather cord in his fist and holds it aloft; dips the chipped yellow stone into a glass bowl still foaming at the mouth with all the ingredients they’d procured from Luc’s back rooms. It comes out dripping with the pearly brew — not even a drop wasted as it swings wide and stops over Taylor’s marked arms.

Despite the fact that Taylor himself had taken the ingredients off of the dutch oven on the nearby stove each drop is cold as ice as it falls onto the runes — seeps into his skin, his bones and chills him all the way down to the marrow.

“Nos rejecto nostro quod mortale est a servis suis ut altius virtute. Ubi autem non est datum quaerere Sanctuarii. Itaque accepimus ipsis facti ignara cladis virtutes invocare. Postulamus illorum tutela…”†

No one dares interrupt the Latin curling on Ryder’s tongue. Not just for the sake of the spell — there’s a beauty to his careful incantation that holds them captive listeners. Willing, but captive.

No way the small surface of the stone should hold as much of the potion as it seems to. Even when it hangs closer to his eyes Taylor can’t see a porous surface or hole to drip from. But now probably isn’t the time to question the mechanics of magic.

Careful not to miss a word Ryder’s finger traces underneath the hand-written invocation. “Postulamus ab oculis eorum. Hoc tu arcebis auferat sua mala, et a dolore suo. Praesidio cute quod tactus de turpi, ex quo sanguis malus est animus a nequitia sua.”

The thought I’m going to get through my first spell without freaking out isn’t even fully formed when it becomes a lie.

When a strange tingling besets across the surface of the runes. Pinpricks of tiny needles like his arms have fallen asleep but only where the ash is drawn.

It’s probably just the spell. It’s definitely just the spell. It’s just the spell, right?

Only he’s a tingled breath away from asking when Ryder — like he’s sensed Taylor’s interruption — holds up a finger.

“Et hoc usque dum facinus patratur malum exitum.”

It stops in sync with Ryder’s chant. With the droplets from the stone which Ryder tosses aside; no longer of use.

Only he keeps reading — doesn’t give indication good or bad whether the spell worked or not.

Thankfully Taylor isn’t the only impatient one. Not when Cal not-so-subtly coughs into his fist.

“So is that it? Did it work?”

Please, please say it worked.

Katherine shrugs — but steps forward back into potential harms’ way. “No one blew up so that’s a good sign.”

“I didn’t know — seriously?” If Taylor looks between the hunters any quicker he’s going to get whiplash. “That was on the table? Why didn’t you tell me that was on the table?”

“Because it wasn’t,” explains Nik curtly, “not when I’m the one casting. Kathy on the other hand — she’s got a reputation for that kind of thing.” He finally pries himself away from Ivy’s book to give his rival a sardonic raise of his eyebrows.

“Touché.”

But Cal hasn’t gotten his answer and makes a point in telling them. “Just ‘cause no one blew up doesn’t mean it worked. Did. it. work? Is he protected?”

Maybe the way Ryder lets his hand linger on Taylor’s knee is a bit awkward — but not uncomfortable. Like his touch is an extension of the spell. He even gives what may be the first look of hope Taylor’s ever seen.

“We can’t be certain until we’re outta the Shift’s wards but yeah; yeah I think so.”

It’s good news. Arbitrarily good, but good — and boy does he need a dose of good right about now.

“We should go tell the others.” Taylor stands and tucks Ivy’s book at his side.

“We should start workin’ on tracking down what’s after you.”

“Why not both?” It doesn’t take supernatural senses to know there’s another round of bickering on the horizon — so Cal takes it upon himself to pluck the book in hand; gestures to Taylor’s smudge-tattooed forearms. “We’ll start team strategy downstairs and, Taylor, if you wanna get rid of all that?”

Yes, yes he wants to very badly.

Ryder frowns, starts to argue; “This ain’t a team sport — hey! Kujo, get back here with that book!” And is caught between standing his ground and doing his job when Cal darts out towards the hallway staircase.

Katherine gives a shake of her head but doesn’t do much to hide her bemusement at their antics. “Go on,” she tells Taylor on her way out, “I’ll make sure they don’t throttle each other. At least not until you can bet on the winner.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He closes the door behind her — closes it, but doesn’t turn the lock just in case — and heads to shower off the spellwork.

“I asked nicely, Smith. Now I’m telling; calm down before I have to rethink lifting your ban!”

“Come on Garrus, but him some slack. He’s excited.”

“Well an excited vampire does not a friendly and relaxed environment make! At least move all this to a table — I don’t have any room to serve drinks!”

The rest of the Shift comes into view when Taylor finishes rubbing his hair dry and tosses the towel over his shoulder.

Sure enough Cadence — still imposingly tall with Krom sitting at a booth — hovers over a spread of papers, folders, and what look like newspaper clippings scattered across the bartop.

Garrus huffs with two large wooden steins filled to frothing in his hands. Practically shoves them at Cal on the other side of the bar with a flippant and frustrated gesture to the customers waiting while engrossed in their billiards at the front.

Katherine continues defending Cade — though at this point it seems a little more involved than simple loyalty to her employer. It’s the same concern she had for him in the cage fight.

Only he hopes this won’t end similarly.

“I can’t believe you’re not interested, Garrus,” Cadence laughs with borderline hilarity; opens a manila folder and pulls out thick embossed paper that oozes age and historical importance. “Or was I only interesting when I was shiny and fresh from the war?”

“Oi!” barks Ivy from her booth; looking up from the page Ryder has her tome open to, “that’s not fair and you know it.”

Katherine knocks the tip of her boot into the vampire’s leg — draws a long sigh from him.

“Very well… you’re right. Apologies, Garrus.”

“As long as he’s throwing insults and not his fists like he did in that cage I couldn’ give less of a shit.” As Cal passes Taylor he ruffles the damp blond hair out of place with a silly grin.

“What’s going on…?”

Taylor wanders over; looks over the piles with passing curiosity before he makes his way to scooch in beside Ryder at the back.

“Another one of our dear mystery man’s wild wyvern chases.” comments Garrus with no less salt on his tongue.

“Goose chases.” corrects Krom absently.

“Hm? Oh, well, those too. Equally nasty creatures either way.”

Like always it’s Ivy who takes pity on Taylor’s lack of experience and knowledge. “Taylor, this is Cadence Smith; don’t let the lack of glamour fool you, though, he’s —”

“A vampire,” he nods and gives a small wave; isn’t surprised when it’s ignored in favor of Cadence’s thumbing through the papers for something specific, “I know. We met last night.”

Ivy gives an “ah” in understanding; “Then you got the life story then? Or — well — lack thereof.” And when he shakes his head she claps and giggles with glee. This is obviously a story she adores sharing. “Oh goody. And, pah, he’s too busy to tell it himself. So here’s how it goes. It’s a cloudy night in the summer of 1918…”

“Shouldn’t I be telling it, petal?” Garrus calls, “after all that was decades before your time. I was there.”

“Hush, momma’s regaling.” And it’s all the argument he has since the fae falls silent — returns to slicing lemons with a hum. “Now where was I? Ah — yes — it’s a cloudy night in the summer of 1918.

“Before you ask: yes that 1918. Half the world dead and the other half dying, and a half somewhere in the middle that can’t be bothered to care. This particular scene is set at the temporary wartime hospital Saint Marcellus. †† Pause for laughter —” — she does pause, though no laughter comes — “— well that’s disappointing.

“The beds are full, the bugs are a-buzzin’, and this summer was one of the worst. All those brave soldiers shipped back from the trenches only to deal with an all-too-familiar brand of torture from New Orleans herself. And in the Marcellus you’ve got wings for everything; for lost limbs, for limbs that needed losing, for bullet holes and for internal bleeding and for those who they didn’t really know what was wrong with ‘em, but they had to be shoved somewhere until someone figured it out.

“How did that middle-class education on world history do for you, Taylor,” Ivy dances the tips of her nails on the wooden tabletop, “like, what do you know about shell shock?”

He tries not to glance Cadence’s way — glad that he has a chance to avert his gaze before he gets caught staring.

“It’s what they used to call PTSD, right?”

Nik nods; a curt jerk of the chin. He’s definitely heard this story before but there’s a strange and uncharacteristic reverence in his silence.

Especially given how eager he’d been upstairs to get on with the hunt.

“They had a wing for that, too. That was the one the doctors at the Marcellus tried their best to keep empty — bad for morale, you know. And they did a bang-up job with everyone except for Cadence here. First they couldn’t get him to talk; not a sound or a written word to help him out. Then he started talking and they couldn’t get him to shut up.”

A deeper voice cuts her off. “I didn’t have a name nor tags to identify me. I’d been shipped all the way across the Atlantic in civvies for lack of a uniform. The moment the chief medical officer heard my accent he swore up and down every corridor for an hour — trying to find the incompetent fool who mistook a British soldier for an American one.”

Judging by the satisfied look on Ivy’s face she has no problem with Cadence jumping in to give a first-person account. Maybe she even expected it seeing as she goes right back to reading her book like she never said a word. Like she didn’t start it.

Cadence continues without looking up from a fragile folded newspaper. Cradles the old edition of The New York Times with sentimental longing. At his awkward angle Taylor has to stretch his neck in order to barely make out the headline.

ARMISTICE SIGNED, END OF THE WAR!

“I had been admitted as a mute with a severe case of trench foot and an undiagnosable allergy to direct sunlight. The infection they were content to amputate; the rest… attributed quickly to shell shock.

“They kept the curtains drawn and drilled me without end. Anything to get me to remember my name, my regiment, how I’d landed on the wrong side of the pond. Professionals, experts in their fields couldn’t crack me open. I was one angry Corporal away from being sent back to Europe when a London-born nurse lied and said I was her cousin. As far as anyone knew I very well could have been. I certainly didn’t argue.

“In truth she knew what would happen to me back on English soil. They didn’t call it shell shock there, they called it cowardice. She lied her way through missing documents and got me released to her care. She was a kind woman, Meredith LaPointe. Took me in while her own husband was looking at a future without his arms. Had two little ones — barely more than toddlers if I recall.

“Killing her is still my fiercest regret.”

The needle scratches on the proverbial record. Leaves Taylor gaping in shocked silence — aware with a bitter slap of reality to the face that no one will meet his eyes.

But it’s Cal’s first time hearing the story, too. And he’s not so quiet in the face of injustice.

“She saved your skin and you — you killed her? What the fuck?”

Only Cadence doesn’t answer; palms spread flat and wide on the bartop. Taylor swears he can see a small tremble in his broad shoulders.

Katherine speaks in his stead. “He didn’t know what he was.”

“Bullshit.”

“Believe what you will,” Cadence finds his voice back from some dark abyss, “but it’s the truth. A fortnight shut up in that ward and no amount of food they gave me did the trick. I didn’t even realize what I’d done until she was slumped on the floor at my feet.”

The wolf still snarls. “If you say you hurt those kids I swear to Christ…”

“No. I ran.”

“And put the rest of the city in danger.”

“No more than it already was. If I recall correctly your Pack took advantage of the poverty of the time. Something about the hunger of the wolf allowing them to extort rations.”

Cal lets out a primal growl. The wooden bar under his fingers groans — tries desperately not to yield.

It’s the twist and whip of a hand towel that snaps him out of it. Garrus practically flush with anger and glowering between the werewolf and vampire heatedly.

“The past is the past — let it go; both of you — before you,” — to Cade — “deal with another ban and you,” — to Cal — “find yourself out on the curb. Got it?”

They break eye contact but that doesn’t seem to be enough. Not when Garrus slams his palms down with an expectant look.

“I asked you boys a question; I expect an answer.”

“Got it.”

“Understood.”

“Good,” and the most terrifying thing about it is when Garrus resumes cleaning new glasses as though it never happened, “now, continue. You’re gettin’ to the best part.”

There’s a rueful twist to the vampire’s mouth but he continues anyway. “There isn’t much to tell after that. I found my way to the same place many lost souls did at the time; to the Graveyard Shift. Garrus was kind enough to put me up for a short while — gave me better forgeries for an identity and helped organize a meeting and arrangement with de la Rosa and his clan to get me blood when I needed it.

“And I’ve spent every year since working to recover my lost identity.”

There’s definitely a wow in there somewhere but Taylor’s having a hard time finding it. Instead awkwardly points between Cadence and Katherine — who answers his unasked question like she’s used to picking up at the end of story-time.

“He started hiring Nighthunters to help his crusade a few decades ago. The guy before me put up his standby job on the table in a high-stakes card game and I lost.”

“You make it sound like I treat you terribly.” Cadence scoffs. Gets a grin from his mortal companion.

“I just hate being at your beck and call.”

“Well I’ve gotten farther with you than I did the others. So you’re doing something right.”

“No shit. I’m me.”

“Indeed you are.” The looks they share are fond but there’s no mistaking the pain hidden behind the vampire’s useless spectacles.

As someone who has been there — suffered the struggle of self and identity — whether he’s a murderer or not Taylor only feels sympathy for him.

“So what’s this new information then? Something from the what’s-her-name you met with at Persephone?”

Cadence nods. “Isadora, yes. Among other things that turned up following her father’s death she discovered he had some digging done on my identity in secret. On their own they don’t go very far, but coupled with the favor Kathy here called in last month I think I may finally have some names to dig through.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah, and also not our concern.” The look Nik gives him is full of reproach. “We can play private identity investigator all we like when we I.D. and gut your would-have-been killer.”

Taylor’s definitely more than a little amused by the ‘we’ aspect of that argument but prior banter tells him to let it go for the moment. It’s not like Ryder’s trying to divert them away from the real reason they’re all there.

Well, all except for Katherine and Cadence. They just seem to need a place to do… whatever it is they’re doing.

Ryder actually pushes back Taylor for a direct look to Ivy. “Did you bring those bestiaries from your collection?”

“I did.” But the revenant turns up her nose at him. Flexes her cheek muscles while her heavy leather platforms thud with her bouncing foot.

“So… can we look at ‘em?”

“You know you’re asking for an awful lot of favors without payment. The protection spell, the invocation tome, and now you want access to my carefully crafted and collected bestiaries — meanwhile I haven’t seen even a hint of a vial of payment from you.”

There’s Ivy’s playful banter and then there’s whatever she’s up to now — her eyes burning with hot pink embers and looking paler than usual; like the milky, glassy eyes of a corpse.

Maybe it’s because of the clothes she wears but sometimes Taylor forgets she’s somewhere between the living and the dead.

No way he’s forgetting now, though.

And he’s very, very content to not get involved in their shady (well, he suspects) dealings. Until Ryder is grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him head-on in Ivy’s direction.

“You’re tellin’ me you’re ready to turn a blind eye to this poor, cute face?” Oh, he’s despicable.

Makes Taylor try to worm his way out from between them; “Don’t get me involved in this!”

“That’s not fair!” Ivy pouts.

“Neither is the death sentence he’s been given.” He tries to grab Taylor’s jaw — dear god he will not be mimed like a puppet — but accepts the hand that bats his away as nope too far. “Is there no room in that heart of yours for his well-being?”

“You know as well as I do that my heart is withered and all shriveled up like a—like a raisin!”

Still her resolve is crumbling every time she’s unable to stop herself from looking Taylor in the eyes. He wants her to fight it solely on principle. But apparently Nik is just as well-versed in the art of weaseling his way out of payments as he is doing the things that get him paid.

She wails — an echoing thing befitting of her undead status — and covers her face with skeletal fingers. “I can’t run a business like this, Ryder! He’s just — just too damn cute!”

If it wasn’t helping him stay alive he’d resent that.

“Gah!” The sweet noise of Nik’s victory. “Get up — move it you fleshballs before I change my mind!”

Ryder tugs Taylor out of the booth with him. Gives Ivy a wide berth as she hauls her own butt out toting a large carpet-bag behind her.

She hauls the tremendous weight of the bag onto the tabletop and undoes several ornate-looking silver clasps. All in a careful order judging by the way she seals one or two back up and comes back to them later.

When she opens the bag there’s nothing Taylor can immediately see — even when he stands on the tips of his toes to look the only thing visible is a gaping, empty blackness.

The only way he can describe it? — He feels like he’s looking six feet under; like her body should be way down at the bottom even though Ivy herself said it burned to sinner’s ash long ago.

Ivy pushes up her sleeves; rubs her hands together like she’s itching for a fight. And like an eldritch hellspawn of Mary Shelley and Mary Poppins she reaches down — way down, like impossibly far down — into the bag to scavenge through contents unknown.

“Impressive, right?” asks Krom from his view still in the booth.

Taylor most certainly agrees. “Very Hogwarts.”

“Ha! Bitch, ask who did it first.” Were Ivy’s hands not otherwise occupied she wound definitely be pointing two thumbs at herself. “I know I packed them in here. I regretted not having them as reference on Carlo’s autopsy.”

The distant shatter of glass draws everyone’s attention — even the unwitting Garrus who steps back and looks for the mishap. Only when he realizes it’s not his fault, instead something fallen in her bag of horrors, the fae huffs in frustration and refuses to give Ivy any more of his attention.

Even though his ears twitch to every echoing sound.

“Fu—finally!” Taylor doesn’t get the time to debate the biological physics of Ivy’s breathlessness when he finds three aged tomes suddenly stacked in unprepared arms; each bigger and in worse shape than the last.

But of course she beams at him with teeth bleached white as bone and all struggles are forgiven. At least until the leather-bound edges reveal their bruises.

One by one Ryder takes the bestiary trilogy and goes about making his own Cadence-adjacent spread on the table. Nudges Krom and his poetry book out of the way to take up whatever space isn’t displaced by the carpet-bag of the void.

“These are great, Iv’. Thanks.”

“I didn’t do it for you.” Makes her point by flicking the round of his ear. They both reach for Taylor at the same time but Ivy gets there first — loops her arm with his and sticks out her tongue (or the closest thing she has; truthfully he’s afraid to ask what exactly it’s supposed to be — because it certainly doesn’t look like a tongue) in childish victory.

“I don’t know where you think you’re goin’ but I need him to identify the big-and-ugly.” Ryder drolls.

“My payment will be in the form of mortal gold,” she pats Taylor’s arm reassuringly, “otherwise known as caffeine. You get to page-flipping and we’ll go on a coffee run for the lot.”

“Actually,” Garrus interrupts, giddy with glee, “I think I may have concocted —”

“Another time sugarplum!” As it is she’s already halfway to the front door.

The look on Ryder’s face is enough for Taylor to know if he really doesn’t want to go he doesn’t have to. That his body guard will, well, guard his body and keep him at the Shift.

But his legs are restless and sunset has always been his favorite time of day. So he’s grateful, but no thanks.

Plus… coffee.

Garrus volunteers an old drink specials chalkboard from the back when it gets obvious they’re going to need more than jotting down theories, ideas, and recollections on napkins. Mostly because he has to keep restocking the napkins.

If Ivy would just let them use little sticky notes on her bestiaries there wouldn’t be a napkin issue. But things snowball as they do and one thing leads to another. Which leads to the right-handed Katherine wrenching the chalk away from the left-handed Ryder to give them a less-smudged list of possible suspects.

THE GRAVEYARD SPECIALS HAPPY HOUR: Possessed Corpse(?) TO not likely—no relatives(friend?) buried in state

THIRSTY THURSDAY COMBO: BUY pursuit began before STL — can’t recall if other being/s present GET 5 6 7(?) holy light arrows = barely a scratch HALF OFF!! AMAZING DEAL!!

Among various scribbled (and crossed out) suggestions both sleuthed and thrown out by the resident experts.

Thankfully Cal and Krom are about as versed in the finer details of the supernatural kingdom as Taylor is; makes him feel better about not really being able to contribute other than rehashing the events of that night for the umpteenth time.

But is it all in vain?

The list keeps going on — Katherine’s resorted to adding her words to the embellished paint border around the board. A fact or prediction will cause them to double-back and cross one theory out but one takes its place not a minute later.

When Cadence’s curiosity was piqued enough for him to offer help, Katherine had mentioned the vampire’s penchant for, how did she put it: “long, boring research projects.”

The fact that he and Ivy seem to be the only ones getting a real hoot out of the never-ending cycle they’ve trapped themselves in probably says it all.

Taylor uncrosses his legs; hops down from his latest attempt at unconventional comfort on the pool table and makes for the door.

“Whoa there — where are you headin’?”

He’s relieved Ryder doesn’t announce it to the whole bar. Up front Cadence tries yet again to explain the difference between a vengeful spirit and a poltergeist to Cal. But the wolf keeps insisting all “spectral ghoulies” are the same.

Hopefully the smile he gives his bodyguard doesn’t make him seem ungrateful.

“I was just gonna get some air.”

He would have the same look of ‘seriously’ that Nik has if their positions were reversed. If he didn’t know what it felt like to feel so damn useless like he does right now.

“You realize all this —” with a wave backwards, “— is for you, right? Everyone puttin’ in their time and knockin’ their heads together; it’s all so you can be safe.”

Way to make him feel like the biggest piece of shit to ever live.

Only this time his thoughts bleed through — his tongue edged like a razor. “Wow, really? I had no fucking clue. Thanks for the update!”

And despite the guilt knotting in his stomach and all the rules on self-sacrifice he’s been unlearning for too damn long Taylor turns on his heel and practically marches out of the Shift.

Of course he immediately feels terrible the moment the air hits his face. Wants to turn around and practically march back in; push himself into the conversation to help as best he can. Even if all he can do is repeat every. single. detail of the attack.

But he’s trying to prove a point. So he doesn’t. He tells that nagging voice in the corner of his thoughts to stop trying to make it out like he’s seeking attention and makes himself comfortable on the curbside.

Or at least… he tries. Are there points for trying when he doesn’t want to be disturbed but can’t seem to shake the weirdest and most flippant bodyguard in the whole city? Well since it’s his point system he decides that yes, yes there are points; a good dozen of them — two if Nik starts lecturing him on the risks everyone inside the Shift is taking on his behalf.

What this point system will lead up to exactly Taylor isn’t sure. But it’ll be something good — like a giant platter of beignets when this is all over.

“Y’know what occurs to me, Rook?” They have to look like street comedians, the pair of them. Nik’s coat is so spread out it might as well look into buying real estate on the sidewalk.

When he doesn’t get an answer Nik tries again — this time nudges his shoulder with more gentle caution than he thought the man was capable of.

“I said, ‘y’know what occurs to me, Rook?’”

“Dunno who you’re talking to — can’t be me. That isn’t my name.”

“All right, listen here wise-ass —”

“No you listen.” Theatrically it was a very bold choice to interrupt but definitely added drama to the scene. Except now he has to follow through on account of Nik actually listening.

So he steels himself — accepts internal defeat at not getting those two dozen points — and gives the hunter something to listen to.

“I get it, okay? I get how important this is and I get how much I need to appreciate a bunch of randoms I’ve known for less than the time it takes for me to finish a pint of ice cream in my freezer all coming together and helping me find out what’s trying to get me. And I do appreciate it; all of it.

“Garrus for putting me up, Krom and Ivy for trying to help me make sense of everything. Cal for sticking by my side and, hell, even Kathy and Cadence for pitching in what they know. And you—Nik—you’re running around this city on empty but that’s not stopped you from doing your job once.

“I see it; everything you guys are doing, and it blows my literal freakin’ mind because I’ve never really been the kind to just let myself be helped. But I don’t know what else to do except sit there and take it because I can’t… I mean I’m…”

He struggles to find the right way to say it; is definitely a little more than irritated because no doubt Nik is enjoying all his bravado suddenly wilting. That is until he catches the strange (but no less obvious) look of open understanding he’s being given.

Yeah that definitely doesn’t help him get his words out any easier.

But Nik doesn’t look ready to interrupt him without hearing what should have been a strong conclusion to his vented frustrations. So…

“I don’t know what to do because I’m useless. At least for this kind of crazy. So I’m not going to apologize for needing some space when I’m not really contributing much to the conversation anyway.”

The street is mostly empty — all signs point to the parties a couple blocks up and over. But Nik actually waits until a small group of couples are well out of earshot before he speaks.

“Get it all out?”

“What?”

“I asked if you got everythin’ out of your system. I’ll shut up if not.”

Taylor rolls his eyes. “I’m surprised you were quiet for that long.”

“It was a struggle, I’ll admit,” Nik’s mouth twists into a rueful half-smile, “but I know sometimes you just gotta say your piece. So keep goin’ if you need to.”

After a moment; “No — I think I got it all out. All I can think about, anyway.”

“Good, ‘cause you’re wrong.”

“Great — here we go —”

Nik gives a light backhand to Taylor’s arm. “I let you go, now can I get a turn?”

“Not if you’re just going to lecture me.”

“How would you know what I’m gonna say? Y’ain’t lettin’ me say it.”

And he only frowns because Nik makes a fair point. Begrudgingly settles himself in and avoids eye contact for what little dignity he has left to be spared a verbal lashing.

“I won’t sit here and argue every little point, ‘kay? Frankly we just don’t got that kinda time. Hell — I won’t even try and tell ya all the thoughts I have on that ‘useless’ comment. And trust me; I’ve got a fair few.

“‘Cause that’s how you feel, Rook. No amount a’nothin’ will change that. Not until somethin’ happens that changes your mind for yourself. But if you sit out here kickin’ pebbles and feelin’ bad for yourself what’re the chances of that one thing happenin’ anyway? Slim to none, if you ask me.”

“I don’t think I did ask you.”

“Roo—Taylor,” he turns them face to face this time; no longer content with avoidance, “I’m trying to help here. To give you space, tell you that yeah — all this shit is crazy and it’s easy for people like us to feel like we don’t got a seat at the table. But if you won’t even listen to what I’ve gotta say then I ain’t gonna waste my breath.”

Okay, bad idea. Because he feels bad enough but seeing the exhaustion wrinkled in the hunter’s forehead, the developing dark circles under his eyes? Nik’s not kidding — he’s one petulant quip away from straight up leaving Taylor alone.

Isn’t that what he wanted, though? At least when he came out here it had been. Now he’s not so sure.

But something Nik said isn’t sitting right. “‘People like us?’” he repeats, “that’s not… we’re not…” Nik knows so many things. Knows the spells and the weapons and who to avoid and who to cross. They may both be human but that’s like saying Krom and Ivy are first cousins.

Nik though, like the damn mind reader he is, shakes his head.

“Every Nighthunter was innocent once. Me, Kathy — there’s about as many ways to get into the life as there are ways to stay outta it but don’t think just ‘cause I know what I’m talkin’ about now that I always did.”

There’s a tug on Nik’s coat; makes him whip around and give the sleek black shoe and the suited man wearing it the bird and a snarl. “Watch it buddy.”

The man says nothing and enters the Shift. But Nik seems content to pick a fight another time and lets him go.

Looks back to Taylor in that same uncomfortably honest way that makes the butterflies in his stomach start to twist themselves into knots.

“Y’know what occurs to me, Rook?” he repeats his question again, now and after all this. Taylor isn’t even remotely surprised. This time he’s a little more receptive to it. Maybe Nik was onto something about speaking his piece.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t groan to show his reluctance before answering; “What occurs to you, Nik?”

This victory smile is small and short-lived but no less important.

“It occurs to me that I don’t know much about you.”

“Seriously?”

His protest goes ignored. “So how ‘bout after we narrow down the usual suspects we change that? Get Gar’ to fry up some onion rings or summin’ and take the rest of the night to make sure that protection charm holds good and tight?”

Well that was unexpected.

“Are you…?”

“What?”

“I mean, I just — it sounded like…”

“Words, Taylor; they’re for more’n just startin’ sentences.”

Are you asking me on a date, Nik Ryder? He wants to ask; he’s even ready to play it off as a joke. But given how things have gone the last few minutes, nay hours, he just brushes it off with a laugh and; “Are you trying to permanently distract me with the promise of onion rings?”

Together they stand — already Taylor’s trying to think of ways to explain or lie his way through whatever questions everyone inside will ask about his blustery exit. Then Nik is grabbing him by the arms and coaxing him off the curb. Keeping him from being trampled by three more suited men heading inside the bar.

“Is Garrus throwing a special we didn’t know about?” he laughs; means it as a joke.

But the way the Nighthunter’s brow furrows isn’t joking. Not at all.

“What,” it takes Taylor a second to realize Nik’s glower is over his shoulder at the door, “what’s up?”

“Here’s a lesson for you —” —Nik’s gravelly voice is suddenly so low he has to lean in just to hear him— “— somethin’ to remember about this world we’re in. ‘Cause there’s weird, and there’s weird-weird. Shit that don’t even make sense in a bar full’a creatures.

“And four suits comin’ to Garrus’ at this time’a day — ‘specially when every coven, clan, and pack is celebratin’ Mardi Gras — is weird-weird.”

But they aren’t going to not go back inside. Even as ‘useless’ and mortal as he is Taylor knows that. And doesn’t resist when Nik gives him a light pull back and behind him.

“You stay behind me, got it?”

“No arguments here.”

“For once.” It’s a reply on some sort of instinct — doesn’t develop into their usual bickering half for the situation and half for the fact that Nik doesn’t waste any time yanking open the Shift door as a man on a mission.

They pass through the threshold and into an invisible fog of tension.

Nik’s right; though they arrived separately the suits are together and — a little more than that — two of them have handguns aimed forward. It doesn’t take supernatural senses to know they have every intent to use them.

“Maybe I wasn’t speaking loudly enough,” says Garrus — who looks more flustered and angry than Taylor thought the fae had in him, “but you. are. not. welcome. here. So leave before this gets ugly. The next time I have to say it, it won’t be a suggestion.”

“Everything all right here, Garrus?” Nik calls. Makes one of the armed men turn for a fraction of a second before he focuses back on the group ahead.

Only it occurs to Taylor how weird-weird it is that they don’t bother turning around — or didn’t bother locking the door behind them for that matter — when confronted with new arrivals.

Means, perhaps, that whatever they’re facing at the front is too dangerous to even consider looking away.

Judging by the way Cadence stands — one arm thrown out as a barrier to Katherine, upper lip twitching in a flicker of a snarl, eyes the same burning red as they had been while fighting the Minotaur — yeah; that’s the case for certain.

Garrus scoffs his answer. “Besides the fact that these imbeciles apparently need a refresher on the definition of a sanctuary, just peachy!”

“We’ll be happy to leave once we’ve got who we came for.” barks one of the suited men. “And not a moment before.”

“You idiots,” Ivy sneers, “you won’t even be able to fire those things in here without the wards handing you your asses on a platter.”

“It’s not the act, but the threat behind it.”

Cadence steps forward. Like a dance one of the men goes to step back on instinct until his partner holds him fast. The vampire sweeps his ruby gaze across the line they form. “Am I wrong? Your boss wouldn’t send you in here without warning you about the wards first.”

“Enough yakkin’. You either come with us willingly or as a body in a bag. Your choice, Smith.”

“If you’re going to act like you don’t have ears…” Even Taylor can’t suppress a shudder at the warped, demonic lilt to Ivy’s threat. The hunger in her fiery eyes.

But Krom holds her back — the only one who looks like bullets would bounce right off of him but also the most fearful of the lot. “Ivy don’t, please…” he whispers.

“Care to catch a guy up?” Nik tries again. Katherine leers at him over the black-suited shoulders.

“They’re here for Cade, dumbass. Three guesses who they work for.”

Nik nods, something unspoken passing in the undercurrent of her response. He gives a few jaunty steps and even tempts fate so far as to pat one of the armed man on the shoulder. Brings Taylor around with a hand on his wrist only to push him out of harms way to the corner of the bar.

“Well you gotta admire their work ethic.”

“Do we, though?”

“Yeah!” He sizes up the goons — steps back with a challenge in his arms spread wide. “More so when you think a’those wards Garrus mentioned. D’you know what happens to firearms, Gar’? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”

Garrus practically growls. “It’s not pretty.”

A ripple of unease starts to break the would-be kidnappers’ bravado. Fingers flex on triggers. A bead of sweat trickles down and stings in one’s eyes.

“If Lady Smoke wants to speak to me she can come herself,” snarls the vampire, “since she obviously knows how to find me.”

“Not just you.”

It’s an empty threat in the safety of the Shift’s wards but the damage is done; makes Cadence rush forward with an open fist ready to catch the speaker at his throat.

“Cade — no —!” Garrus calls too late.

A bright flash of light momentarily blinds them — but even as Taylor goes to shield his eyes he watches an invisible force of incredible strength send Cadence flying backwards and into the bar. The wood is solid, refuses to yield, and he sinks down onto the floor just as Katherine rushes to help him stand.

Apparently the wards aren’t just against goons — but anyone ready to cause harm.

The henchman rubs his throat, probably near wetting himself at the knowledge of how close he came to the same end as the Minotaur, and has the gall to manage a half-grin. “Well that’s handy.”

“What the fuck does Smoke want?” Kathy shouts through gritted teeth.

“What she’s owed.”

“She isn’t owed shit!”

Cadence rubs the back of his head with a groan. “I gave up what she owed me.”

“You don’t offer up a nickel and take the whole damn safe. Not in this town. Not when it comes to Lady Smoke.”

Katherine looks ready to test the boundaries of the wards; at the very least with her words. But Cadence’s hand on her arm as she helps him stand holds her back.

“Fine, I’ll go —”

“Like hell you wi —”

“If only to right this fucking business of favors and what’s owed.” The look Cade gives her isn’t one to be argued with. Not that it’s stopped her before. But even from across the room Taylor feels the same unease that he had back watching the vampire in the cage.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Rather than outright refusing Nik plays his cards a little closer to his chest. Gives Cade a stern look that promises help if he needs it — which might be very soon judging how things have escalated so far.

“No, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it anyway.”

“Smart choice.” With a gesture from the same shiny-shoe asshole who stepped on Nik’s coat the guns get tucked away. Whether they can be seen or not it doesn’t change the fear they bring. “Get a move on. Lady Smoke doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Cadence scoffs. “She may have power over many things but not even Tonya Reimonenq can control the sun and moon. She can wait until it’s safe for me to leave.”

Compelled by the lurch in his stomach Taylor flies forward; bolts around the table as if fucking compelled and pushes Ryder aside to grasp for the vampire’s arm.

“What did you say?”

Cadence looks like he’d forgotten Taylor even existed. “What? Let go.”

“That name — say it again.”

“Rook?” He feels Ryder’s concerned touch but couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“Say it again.”

But confusion aside, Cadence does; “Tonya Reimonenq — Lady Smoke.”

What are the damn odds?

†incantation full translation (taken from google translate): "We cast aside our place as mortal servants to a higher power. Where we seek sanctuary none has been given. Thus we take it upon ourselves to invoke powers who have gone blind to our plight. We demand their protection. We demand their sight. You will ward away this evil and its sorrows. Protect this skin from foul touch, this blood from ill intent, this mind from wicked ways. Do so until the deed is done and evil has met an end."

††Saint Marcellus: Marcellus is a name derived from Mars, the Roman god of war. Ivy finds it funny that a hospital was named after violence. (Saint Marcellus is/was not a real hospital.)

#nightbound #playchoices #choices fanfiction #nik ryder #nik ryder x mc #cal lowell #katherine nightbound #oc: cadence smith #ivy #krom #garrus #nightbound mc #mc: taylor hunter #oblv: bound by circumstance #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

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samali3554 · 5 years

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Point of Sale a Solution of 2020

Purpose of purchase purpose of sale--commonly referred to by the acronym"POS"--is still one of the business-specific conditions which can hard to grasp. That is due to the fact"point of sale" escapes an easy definition. Now that we've covered what POS applications can do, then let's switch our eye on POS hardware. While e-commerce retailers only need POS software to conduct transactions, any merchant who would like to accept peer-to-peer transactions will require some form of POS components.

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What is a business trade minus the exchange of dollars? Thus, what exactly capabilities do you assume with POS software? Note a POS must maybe not be confused with a credit score card processing company method. A credit score card processing system is just a component of a place of sale system. However, the POS can also deal with a wide range of purposes beyond the processing of credit card payments. Terminal enclosure or stand, on the other hand, if your company creates transactions in person, your purpose of the purchase system has to be able to procedure charge card payments.

The most basic and international on-screen payment procedure is the scanning of a credit score card magstripe utilizing swipe. After all, you wouldn't want to miss a sale since you don't accept a customer's favorite procedure of repayment. Let's run through Each One of the different types of obligations your purpose of purchase platform could accept: RemindersAlong with magstripes, many modern charge cards additionally include embedded microchips offering enhanced stability features. Although magstripes create cardholder information easy to get and also duplicate, processor cards will maintain cardholder facts secure using a special code upon transaction.

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taronfanfic · 5 years

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Just A Scratch

“Only 38 days to go now!” You titled your phone screen so Taron could see the countdown you had set in the corner of your lock screen before you switched your phone to silent and slipped it back in your bag. The waiting room of the doctor’s surgery was quiet. They’d been kind enough to squeeze you in at the very end of the day seeing as it was only a quick and minor request.

“I can’t wait. Two whole weeks with you is exactly what I need.” Taron squeezed your thigh softly as he watched the mother and toddler who were called in before you make their way out through the doors.

“Me, you, and the whole of Thailand to explore.”

“Heaven.”

“Would you like to go through now?” The receptionist called out from behind her counter and you took hold of Taron’s hand as you stood up slowly.

“Thanks.”

Even the smell of the doctor’s surgery was enough to make you feel nervous, but Taron seemed calmer than ever as he ushered you on ahead.

“Hello, hello, take a seat.” The doctor greeted you with a warm smile and you took the seat next to his desk, never letting go of Taron’s hand as he sat down beside you. “What can I do for you today?”

“We’re off to Thailand in a few weeks and wanted to check if we needed any travel injections or whether we’re still covered by previous ones, that sort of thing.” You explained.

“Ah right, yes. Let me just bring up your medical records and take a look.” As the doctor checked his computer you turned back to Taron who sat looking at a poster on the opposite wall. It was unusual for him to be this quiet but when you clocked that the poster he was reading was about pregnancy you couldn’t help but smile a little and leave him to it.

“Okay then, so Y/N everything looks fine for you. You’ll just need the simple Typhoid and Hepatitis A vaccinations which I can pop in for you in a moment… and then Taron.”

“Me?” Taron was brought back to reality. “I think I had them all done the other year so I shouldn’t need anything. I was just here for moral support.” He laughed gently.

“Well seeing as you’re here too we might as well double check, just in case.”

“Ah no, don’t worry I’ll be alright. I’m sure you’d rather be getting home sooner too.”

“It’s no bother, it’ll take 2 seconds. Here we go… so you last had them done in 2015 which means you’ll need the Typhoid and Hepatitis A top up’s as well. Good job we did check, eh?” The doctor wheeled his chair back from his desk and then walked over to the fridge in the back corner of the room. You noticed Taron’s leg start to bounce up and down as he couldn’t take his eyes off the doctor and the size of syringe that he collected from the drawer next to the fridge. “I just need to go and grab an extra needle, won’t be long.” The doctor called out as he left the room.

“Good job they could squeeze us both in.” You spoke quietly to Taron as you placed your hand to his leg and pushed it down slightly to try and stop his fidgeting.

“Mmmm.” He replied as he lifted your hand away from his leg without looking back to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yup.” He finally looked back to you and tried to force out a smile but you could see the tension he was holding in his jaw and noticed the colour start to fade from his cheeks.

“Do you want me to go first?”

“D-don’t mind.” He stuttered and then cleared his throat. You hadn’t seen him quite like this before. His nervous habits were common before big events or the first day of shooting a new film but he could harness those nerves for his own benefit. This time around he didn’t know what to do with the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. He wiped his sweaty palms down his jeans and then flinched as the doctor came back in the room holding the syringe and needle all ready to go.

“Go on, get mine out the way.” You pushed your sleeve up and turned in your chair to face your left arm towards the doctor.

“Are you alright with needles? It’ll be a small scratch and you’re welcome to look the other way.”

“I’m okay, I won’t look but I’m not going to faint on you or anything.” You laughed softly as the doctor approached your arm and the next thing you knew Taron had left your side and was pulling open the door to leave.

“I’m just gonna-”

“Taron, wait. It’s fine!” You called out after him, but it was too late. By the time the door had closed you were all done and hadn’t even noticed the injection had gone in.

“Sorry about this, I’ll get him back.”

“Take your time,” The doctor smiled. “It’s more common than you think for men to panic over needles.”

As you stepped outside the consultation room you saw Taron stood down the corridor by the window which was now open ajar. He was leaning forwards with his palms resting flat to the windowsill and his head tilted down.

“Hey, you.” You spoke softly as you approached him and ran your hand up his back to his shoulder. “I’m all done, and absolutely fine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re not the first and you definitely won’t be the last one to panic and run.” You continued your path over his body and stroked down his arm until you reached his wrist and gently lifted it away from the plastic ledge so you could take hold of his hand.

“It’s stupid. I know it’ll be fine.”

“It will, and I’ll be there with you so you can gaze into my eyes and imagine we’re… I don’t know, on a beach somewhere sunny.”

“Or hidden beneath the covers in bed.”

“If you’d prefer,” You nudged your arm into his and encouraged him to open up so you could hug him properly. “You should have told me you didn’t like needles.”

“I know, but it’s embarrassing. It’s not the needle itself just the way it goes in.” His whole body tightened as he thought about it. “Even picturing it makes me feel sick, and I get all hot and shaky.”

“It’s alright though, it’ll be less than a minute and then we can get out of here and take your mind off it completely. Come on.” You took a step back towards the door and tried to encourage Taron to follow you, but he resisted your tug on his arm.

“I really don’t want to.”

“Come on, it’ll be 30 seconds tops.”

“Please, not now. I’ll come back another day when I feel better.” He dropped your hand and folded his arms across his chest as he stared to close himself off again.

“Taron, stop. Look at me. Look at me.” You waited for him to sigh and then lift his gaze. “That’s all you’ve got to do. Nothing bad is going to happen, just stand in there and look at me exactly as you’re doing now and then it’ll all be over, okay?” Giving him chance to protest again would only end badly so you turned away and went back inside the consultation room, leaving the door deliberately open for Taron. The doctor was ready and waiting but made himself look busy as Taron took a tentative step back inside with his eyes wide with fear.

“I’ll make it super quick for you, Taron.” The doctor encouraged as he closed the door behind him and then picked up the needle without Taron catching a glimpse.

“Keep looking at me, imagine we’re… somewhere else.” You smirked a little and saw Taron’s eyes start to soften.

“You’ll just feel a small scratch.”

“Just a scratch,” You repeated the doctor’s words to Taron and he bit his lip as he waited for it. “Nearly done, it’s all good.”

“There we go! Not too bad, eh?”

“No.” Taron let out the breath he’d been holding and you saw his shoulders relax.

“All done.” You smiled proudly at him and finally got a little smile back.

“Have a wonderful time in Thailand.” The doctor held the door open as he let you leave straight away, walking quickly with Taron back through the reception area and out of the surgery into the fresh air.

“I’m so glad that’s done. I fucking hate doctors.” The first thing Taron did was pull you in against his chest and wrap his arms around your shoulders.

“You don’t say!”

“Thank you though. Thanks for putting up with such a wimp like me. You were amazing.” He leant in and placed a soft kiss to your cheek.

May I request a taron x reader? They're at the clinic for a check up and Taron was alright until the doctor said 'needle'. He gets jittery and nervous while they're getting ready and almost leaves but the reader helps calm him down.

Tag list: @egerton-sweetie @amanda-tallmadge @lizziespidiepridie @leanimal90 @anantheminmyheart22 @aynsleywalker @bohemianrhapsody86 @butterfliesslugswormsandothershi @manners-maketh-taron @livingincompletesilence @marvelmakeuplover @ohsosmutty @misspygmypie @manners-maketh-a-kingsman @courtmr @baileythepenguin @thomaslefteyebrow @witchymarvelspacecase @samanthasmileys @nellietara @i-cant-remember-my-old-login @wheresmylightinthedark

#taron egerton #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton fanfic #taron x reader

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babemazzello · 5 years

Text

‘39 - A John Deacon FanFiction

Chapter 9 - The Wall

Story Description: Amy is sitting in his apartment when she hears some frantic knocking outside her door. She opens it to see a frightened and frazzled John Deacon. A 23-year-old John Deacon. Who believes it’s still 1974, and not 2019. Amy takes it upon herself to help John and get him back to where he belongs. Part 1 is here.

Chapter Description: Amy and John are getting closer again and after an embarrassing moment and John not following the rules, they become closer than ever before.

Notes: If you would like to be tagged for this story, either leave a comment or shoot me a message and I will tag you for all future chapters. Thank you all so much for reading, by the way. It means a lot to me.

Warnings: just a little bit of swearing

Words: 3.8k

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1 week later

My boss unsuspectingly let us out halfway into the day. He got very sick and decided that we didn't all need to be there if he wasn't. Especially when none of us had any real work to do. I wasn't going to argue with his assistant as they left my office. I guess he had gotten so sick that he needed to go home immediately and left his assistant to tell everyone.

I packed up my camera bag and drove home. I unlocked the door and swung it open. Dropping my purse and camera bag as soon as I got inside. I hadn't looked over to the living room yet.

"Hi, John," I said as I plopped my bags onto the table. When there wasn't a response, I looked over at the couch to see him completely sprawled out and fast asleep. It didn't shock me considering I had just noticed the lack of music right this second. If he was awake, there would have definitely been something playing. Plus, he basically had three options to occupy himself while I was gone. Sleeping was one of them.

I figured I might as well keep to myself and try not to wake him. I decided to take a shower. It was relatively quiet and shouldn't wake him up considering my loud, booming voice didn't wake him already. I went into my room and grabbed some clothes to change into when I was finished with my shower. I tiptoed past him and into the bathroom. I started the water, took off my clothes, and got in.

Over the past week, Deacy had slowly gotten closer to me again. Our relationship was repairing, but only very slowly. Agonizingly slow, actually. But, I wasn't complaining. Any closeness to him was more than I could ever ask for. Even now when he's asleep on my couch is more contact with him than I ever thought I would get in my life.

I quickly washed my hair. Rinsing it through with the rosemary and mint conditioner that I loved to smell on Deacy. The scent now only reminded me of him, even though it had been my choice of conditioner for years. Just the strength of the smell amplified his attractiveness to me. I rinsed myself off and stepped out of the shower. Shivering from the cold air that hit my skin.

I dried myself off. Making sure that every inch of me was dry. But, I was still cold. I wrapped a towel around my hair and one around my torso as I walked over to the mirror. I looked at myself in it for a couple of seconds before pulling my hair out of the towel. Before Deacy was here, I used to let it sit in the towel for a little bit before letting it air dry, but now that he was here, I was too embarrassed and shy to do that. I guess I never broke the habit of putting my hair up. I took the towel and started drying off my hair. Tossing it about underneath my towel-clad hands.

Then, I heard a noise. I wasn't sure if I was hearing it right because I couldn't see anything through my mess of hair in front of my eyes and the towel flapping back and forth. But, when I flipped my hair out of my face to see what the noise was, I was greeted to Deacy, standing in the doorway with a dumbfounded look on his face. I guess he had woken up and wanted to use the bathroom and had no idea I was home.

There was a solid second when we both just stared at each other's eyes in the mirror. An intense stare where none of us could move and neither of us knew what to say. It broke when I dropped the towel in my hands and grasped onto the one wrapped around my torso.

"John!" I half-yelled as I felt my face flush a deep shade of pink.

"Uh," he stammered. His face shade quickly matching mine. He quickly stepped back and shut the door. He didn't say anything, but I heard his footsteps leave the door. I let out a sigh as I stared at myself in the mirror again. My entire body was flushed. I was embarrassed, but at the same time...excited. Why did this excite me so much? Well, I knew why it excited me. I was practically in love with him. But, why did it excite me that he had seen me in a towel? I still wasn't sure if his feelings for me were still there.

I finished up in the bathroom about 15 minutes later after drying my hair with a blow dryer and putting on my fresh pair of clothes. I slowly opened the door and was greeted by John nervously slouched over on the couch. As I came around the side of it, I saw his hands wringing together as he stared off into the distance at nothing in particular. When he heard my footsteps, he snapped back into reality and looked at me. His posture straightening. He opened his mouth to speak, but I put my hand up to stop him.

"It's my fault," I started. "I didn't lock the door and you weren't expecting me to be home. I'm sorry about that."

"Why are you home?" He asked. Still wringing his hands together.

"My boss got really sick and let all of us out early. I wasn't going to fight him." I explained. There was a short pause and Deacy took in a breath to speak. I was too embarrassed to let him continue so I stopped him again.

"Let's just...not talk about it." I walked into my bedroom. Closing the door behind me and flopping down onto my bed. I was so glad that I had felt cold and decided to wrap my towel around myself. I don't know how embarrassed I would have felt if I was standing buck naked in front of him like that for so long.

I smashed my face into a pillow and let out a few muffled screams. Hoping they would eliminate the pinkness in my cheeks. Something that I had hoped Deacy didn't notice.

We didn't talk much for the rest of that day. But, I figured that was mostly due to our awkward encounter. I wouldn't know what to say in that situation if I was in Deacy's shoes either. So, we once again sat in silence as he read one of his books and I did some work.

That night, I was extremely tired. I decided to go to bed super early, at about 9 o'clock, to try and beat this tiredness. The next day was Saturday, so I could sleep for as long as I wanted. But, considering the conversations with Deacy weren't exactly 'flowing', I decided to call it an early night instead of a late morning. I said goodnight to Deacy before climbing into bed and falling asleep almost immediately.

I woke up in a hazy fog in the middle of the night. It happened sometimes and it always took me a while to get my bearings in my room before falling back asleep. I shifted under my blanket to a new position as I stared into the darkness of my room. I let my eyelids close again as I tried to fall back asleep quickly, but my ears began to ring with the soft tone of some music.

I figured it had to be coming from my apartment because it sounded too close to be coming through the wall. I listened in to see which song was playing. John must have also had a hard time sleeping and decided to play some music to calm himself down. It was muffled through the door, but I slowly managed to make out the tune and the lyrics in my sleepy haze.

She won't let you fly, but she might let you sing,

Momma's gonna keep baby cozy and warm,

I thought about the lyrics trying, in my tired brain, to remember what song they were from. I simply recognized that I loved the song, but not what it was. It sounded so familiar. Why couldn't I place it? I had also recognized that it was a song I hadn't heard in a while.

Ooh, baby, Ooh, baby,

Ooh babe, of course Momma's gonna help build the wall.

My eyes widened when I heard that line, now completely in tune with the record player and able to understand every note and lyric coming out of it, even through my wall. My mind made the connection. It was the song 'Mother' which was on The Wall by Pink Floyd. A album that wasn't made until...1979.

I threw the covers off of me as I jumped out of bed. I ran over to the pile of records by my door. The pile that I was certain that record was left on top of. I distinctly remembered putting that record in my room. When the white cover didn't stare back at me, I whipped open my bedroom door to see Deacy laying on the floor. He quickly sat up and turned to me when the sound of my door scared him.

"Shit," I heard him whisper. I ran over to the record player and flipped a switch that rose the needle. Stopping the song mid-word.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked. He was frozen in his spot and unable to talk. I looked back at the record. Still spinning. "And where the hell did you get this?" My voice was probably louder than it should have been for four in the morning, but I couldn't contain my anger.

"Amy, I..." was all he could muster up. He looked so utterly and devastatingly guilty. His eyes were soft and his eyebrows tilted down in sadness. His hands pleaded with me as his brain searched for something to say.

"Say something. Anything," I pleaded with him. "Why do you have this?" My voice was softer now, knowing full well that I probably scared him.

"I was...curious and I guess it got the best of me." He dropped his head down after he finished talking. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Did you go in my room? I told you not to go in there," I scolded.

"I know," he replied. "But, I couldn't help myself any longer. I see those records by your door every day when you go to work. And, I saw them again when you opened your door to go to sleep. So, when I knew you were asleep, I opened the door just enough to grab the record. I'm so sorry," he rushed out. He looked so downtrodden. Sorry for what he had done. I took a deep breath and looked down at him.

I felt sorry for him. Sorry that he was stuck in this apartment and his time outside was limited. Sorry that all he had to do was read books and listen to a very limited amount of records for a month and a half. Sorry that he spent long mornings alone when I had to be at work. Sorry for everything that I was putting him through that he couldn't help. I had expected some sort of rebellion at some point. I guess I got so comfortable with him following my directions that I thought it was always going to be easy. I shouldn't have snapped because I probably would have done the same thing if I was in his position. I kneeled down in front of him, making my face the same level as his so I could look him in the eyes.

"John," He raised his head to look at me. The yellow light from the streetlamp outside glimmered in his guilty eyes. I took a breath before I spoke. "We don't know how time travel works. We don't know what you're going to remember. I was just being careful. Maybe a bit too much, but careful nonetheless. We just don't know."

"You're right, we don't," he replied. "But, I've never intentionally copied a song that I've listened to. Ever. I mean, I don't write songs, but if I was going to, it would be different from everything that I've heard." Little did he know about his songwriting prowess. "I wouldn't copy these songs."

"I know that, but what if you accidentally do and steal a famous song that would have launched someone else's career? Then that person doesn't become a big artist and then other people don't become inspired. It's a domino effect." I was clamoring for a good point. He was making a lot of sense. I had listened to a countless number of songs and if I was ever to write something, I wouldn't intentionally steal someone else's song. "Also, these songs are much easier to steal because they don't exist in your time yet."

"Doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head a little. "I still wouldn't steal them." There was a pause between us. "Come on, Amy," He whispered as he put his arms on my shoulders. "What's the point of being in the future if I can't know what's going to happen?"

"Because I don't know what you'll do with that information once you go back," I replied, looking him in the eyes and focusing on how his hands were touching me.

"What if I don't remember anything when I get back? Just like I can't remember anything about how I got here," he countered back.

"But, you're remembering how you got here. Slowly, but it's still something." I replied.

"If you went into the future, wouldn't you want to know something? Anything?" He asked, his voice rising at the end of his questions. I nodded. "See? That's what I feel like. I've been here for a month and a half and I haven't learned anything. Well, barely anything. And on top of that, I think I'm going stir-crazy." He let out a little chuckle at his words. I looked back at his eyes after I chuckled along to his joke. "I don't want to defy you like I did tonight. I don't want to do that. So, I want your permission. I want your permission that it's okay that I learn about the future and what it has in store. I want you to teach me." His voice was soft. His thumbs rubbing back and forth to soothe me into the answer he wanted. It wasn't manipulative as most people might see it, but caring and hopeful. Hopeful that I would agree. I thought about it for a second. "Please," he pleaded with a whisper.

"Okay," I answered in the same tone. A smile came across his face. One that crinkled his eyes and showed the gap in his teeth. He pulled me into a hug.

"Thank you," he said excitedly.

"But, that means we have to lay down some new ground rules," I said as we pulled out of the hug.

"Okay, what are they?" he asked, almost bouncing up and down.

"You can't know anything about your future or your friends' futures. Can't risk that much." He nodded. His face was now slightly more serious. "You also can't use the internet when I'm gone. I can't trust that you won't look something up that you aren't supposed to." He nodded again.

"Is that it?" He asked, giddy with excitement.

"No, one more thing. I'll expose you to things slowly so that you don't get overwhelmed. Cause it's pretty easy to get overwhelmed. Just...try to not do this again. If I tell you not to watch or listen to something you have to obey that because there's a good reason for it. Okay?" I waited for his answer.

"Okay," he replied. "I can do that." He smiled again. "So, does that mean I can listen to the album?" He nodded his head over to the record player. I chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess you couldn't have started on a less popular album, huh?" I looked back at him and he knitted his eyebrows together. "I'll just start with the 'lesson'." I made air quotes before I explained. "This album came out in 1979. So, pretty close to your time. At least, it's in the same decade. This album became one of the top-selling albums of all time. It's a rock opera, kinda like 'Tommy' by The Who." His eyes watched me while I explained. "It's a pretty heavy psychedelic album, but it's actually one of my favorites. Plus, the story is very intriguing." I stood up to look at the album. "I guess you got a little bit into it. Do you want to start from where you were or start from the beginning again?" I looked over at him and waited for an answer.

"The beginning," he replied. I moved the needle to the beginning of the album and flicked the switch so that the needle would drop. We listened to the almost silent cracking and popping of the record as I laid down next to Deacy on the floor.

"You listen to music the same way I do," I laughed as I stared up at the ceiling. "Laying on the floor."

"It's the best way if you ask me," he replied. I let my hands rest on my stomach as the first song played. It grew to a crescendo and then it was quiet again at the beginning of the second song. We laid there and listened to the music.

I could hear Deacy's calm breathing to my left as we took in every note, tune, and lyric. It was peaceful. And even though my tired brain wanted to fall asleep, I stayed awake. The sheer thrill of being next to John and getting to see him experience this album for the first time was enough to obliterate my tiredness.

As the third song in the album started, I decided to make a move. This perfectly quiet room that was fluttering with wonderful music was too pristine to not make a move. My heart beat faster in my chest as I took my hand off of my stomach and placed it next to my body. I looked down between us to see that Deacy's hand was there as well. I moved mine closer to him before I lifted it and placed it inside of his.

It was slow and careful. Making sure that I wasn't making a false move. Just as he had done with the 'almost kiss'. As I started to put more pressure on his hand, he laid his flat against the floor as mine rested on top of his. My fingers intertwining with his until I could fully feel his fingers around my hand. The warmth of his palm against mine sent shivers down my spine. My fingertips were cool against his warm skin. My thumb moved softly around the side of his in loving motions.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," I admitted. I felt like I needed a reason for holding his hand. Like he wanted me to give him a reason. I didn't need one, but I thought it would make a little more sense. It was an apology.

"And I'm sorry I walked in on you earlier today," he said through a smile. I didn't need to see him to know he was smiling. I chuckled.

"I told you not to talk about it," I replied. A smile growing on my face as well.

"Can't help myself. Feel like I needed to apologize," he replied. His hand squeezed mine a little tighter as his thumb began rubbing back and forth on the back of my hand. I could feel my cheeks flushing more when I focused on how his hand felt in mine. His warmth against me, even in such a minimal way, was breathtaking. Although, while we sat there, listening to the music, I began to feel intoxicated by his touch. I began needing more. And I stopped listening to the music.

I began an internal battle. Telling myself not to be greedy and take what I could get. Telling myself to take small steps with him because even though I was now sure that he liked me, there was still some apprehension in the air. And I couldn't tell if that was coming from me or him. I was greedy for more but had the common sense to know that I needed to go slow.

I still needed to be careful with him. This was a delicate balance of making sure I didn't screw up my present time and wanting him so badly that I would do anything to have him. The internal struggle was keeping me up at night. It kept my mind racing everywhere I went.

As the record finished its first side, I knew that one of us had to get up to flip it over. I started to get up, but John beat me to it. Unclasping our hands with an "I got it," quietly falling from his lips. I was saddened by the loss of touch. By the sudden shot back into reality when I wasn't intoxicated by him.

I watched his every move as he got up and flipped the record over. Spinning it perfectly in his fingertips and placing it back down on the turntable. He brought the needle over to it again and then walked back over to his spot. As he laid down, I didn't know if we were going to hold hands again. It had been such a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. And I didn't want to impose.

I kept my hand at my side as John found a comfortable spot next to me. As soon as he stopped fidgeting, his hand reclasped mine. Intertwining our fingers again. His hand under mine. I looked down at our hands. The first time I had seen them meshed together. I smiled. I could feel John looking at me. Watching me look at our hands together. I looked up at him and smiled a giddy smile. He smiled too. Happy that his emotions were being reciprocated.

When I looked back up at the ceiling to listen to the music. I felt my hand lift. John pulled the back of my hand up to his lips and kissed it gently. So soft and gentle. It took everything inside me not to whimper or sigh. I melted into the ground as he placed our hand back between us.

"Thank you, love," he whispered only slightly louder than the music.

I didn't feel like I needed to respond. Instead, I sat there listening to the music and relishing in his touch. Replaying that small kiss over and over in my mind. Feeling the ghost touch of his lips against my hand every time I thought about it. And yet, the internal struggle raged in my mind.

I don't know how much more of this torture I can take.

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Tag List: @itsametaphorbriansblog @imgonnabeyourslave @deakyspuff @ahsokanarwhal @bestbuds55 @kurt-nightcrawler @ixchel-9275 @ccidk @1001-yellow-daffodils @jedi-dreea @rogertaylors-lipgloss @brujademente

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Masterlist

#john deacon #john deacon x reader #john deacon fanfiction #john deacon fan fiction #queen #queen x reader #queen fanfiction #queen fan fiction #'39 - a John Deacon Fanfiction #time travel #bohemian rhapsody #masterlist #deacy #deaky #borhap

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dragabloodvist · 5 years

Text

The Darkcup Chronicles: How to train your prize - 5

Yay, finally a new chapter!

________________

Crouched down next to her, Hiccup took a minute to listen to Astrid's harsh breathing. It sounded lovely, labored but shallow, her lungs desperate to suck in as much air as was possible as adrenalin rushed through her body. At the same time all muscles in her body were paralyzed, her ribcage not expanding as it was supposed to. Speed Stinger poison was cruel like this, even though the dried extract on his needle wasn't as effective as the fresh poison.

"This is all your fault," he said quietly as he moved to her head. He had to drill it into her, had to make her remember. It was on her whether she suffered or not. "If you're good, I'll reward you. But if you fight or disobey me, I have to punish you. You shouldn't have tried to run away."

Hiccup wasn't sure whether she'd heard him, though. Her face was a mask of panic, her eyes quickly darting around as if she was trying to make sense of what had happened. He smirked cruelly. Right, she'd never experienced Speedstinger poison before, had always been lucky when they'd dealt with these dragons before. Well, he wouldn't tell her what it was now. Not knowing how permanent her condition might be would only make her punishment more intense and memorable.

He gave himself a minute to enjoy her helplessness and kissed her harshly, his teeth biting down on her lip and his hand tugging painfully at her hair. Her pained noises made his blood pulse quicker but he drew away before he forgot himself. In his anger, her pain was beautiful. But she wouldn't be paralyzed forever and there were things he had to do before she regained use of her body.

First, he focused on relieving her of her clothes. Taking her boots off was simple. Her leggings were more difficult though and he quickly decided to simply rip them off instead. They were already torn from him fucking Astrid during their flight back. That hadn't been planned but he hadn't been able to help himself. Having her in his lap helplessly moaning at his every touch had been too arousing to wait until they were back here again, and the thin fabric had been nothing but a minor inconvenience. Although, in hindsight, he had to admit that sex while flying had been amazing. They would definitely do it again.

Her shirt proved to be more of a challenge. He didn't want to destroy it too, knew that Astrid's grandmother had knitted it for her before her death. And as much as he wanted to punish Astrid for her disobedience and had to break her to accept his lead… he didn't want to destroy her. Hopefully, she would appreciate this act of kindness.

"Please don't," she weakly breathed as he fought to get the tunic over her head and arms. "Don't… don't do this, Hiccup. Please… please don't hurt me, please…"

Hiccup pressed his lips into a thin line as he bodily moved her around like an oversized doll. He remembered well the small and weak boy he once was, the one who'd watched her from around corners and who would have yielded to her every wish. But that boy was dead, killed by the cruelties of the people who should have respected him as their prince. He wasn't that boy anymore, and all her pleading did was making his victory sweeter.

But still…

"I won't hurt you," he grunted as he finally pulled her tunic off. "But I can't let this slide, Astrid. You're mine now. You will obey me and not run away again. You've already been warned and from now on, every breaking of the rules has consequences."

Once Astrid was naked and lying on the hard floor, whimpering and unmoving, Hiccup went over to his workshop.

"I made something for you," he announced upon returning. "You don't really deserve a gift, but it'll come in handy for your punishment."

He crouched down behind her, purposefully where she couldn’t see what he was doing and worked to get all the leather straps and buckles into place. There was a harness of linked straps that went around her thighs and all the way to her upper arms, but also loose pieced for her wrists and ankles. They were wadded on the inside to not injure her too much and all had metal rings in them, wide enough for ropes to go through them.

Once he was done, he gave himself a moment to admire the sight in front of him. The leather didn’t cover more of Astrid’s body than was necessary. He wanted to see and to tough as much of her as possible. But it should be enough to restrain her every movement if used right and to put her into every position he wanted.

“You truly look amazing,” he hummed into her ear as he picked her up. “Delectable.”

She whimpered and visibly fought to move against him as he picked her up, but it was useless. He was in power now. He carried her over to a part of his hut that wasn’t visible from the entrance. He didn’t want to cause a riot should someone barge into his hut. Not yet. There, he looped ropes through the metal rings of her harness and through others that were attached to the walls and ceiling. It was a little tricky to maneuver her into the right position – bent over at the waist with her rear up high, her calves tied tightly against her spread thighs, and her forearms and hands tied behind her back and pulled upwards to keep her upper body from moving too much. But he’d designed this mechanism himself, so it only took a minute to get it working as he wanted.

Hiccup swallowed at the sight of her, so utterly vulnerable and exposed. It made his blood boil, his cock twitching in anticipation. But it wasn’t time for that, not yet.

Instead, he walked around her and crouched down next to her head. Her hair was like an untamed mane, falling around her face and blocking her sight. When he pushed strands of it aside to look at her, she shook his hand off, the Speed Stinger poison finally wearing off.

“Don’t touch me!”

Hiccup cocked his head. Her words were presumably meant as a threat or an order. But her voice was weak and trembling. Laced with fear. He went back to caress her cheek and down her neck. She trembled beneath his touch.

Then Hiccup grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head up. She cried out in pain but he silenced her directly with a harsh kiss.

"Get it into your head!" he snarled, overcome by anger for the moment. "You're mine! I can do whatever I want to you!" His first was shaking with rage but he forced himself to loosen his grip a bit. "But how I treat you is entirely up to you. If you're good, then I'll happily reward you with pleasure and gifts. But if you disobey me…" he trailed off, tugging at her hair again. This time, she only whimpered.

He inhaled deeply to calm himself then reached for the last leather band. When Astrid realized where it was going, around her neck, the fought against him, even tried to bite his hand. Hiccup slapped her across the face with the back of his hand, hard. “Stop it!” he growled, seething. When he’d led her to his hut, he’d contemplated lessening the severity of her punishment. Now though, she’d lost this chance. He’d warned her times and times again but she wasn’t listening. So she’d get the full sentence, without parole.

Shaking with rage, he stood up and got some tools from his father’s box; a pot of lube and dildos in varying sizes. “You will see what your disobedience brings you!” he snarled as he stepped between her legs. “And once we’re through with this, you won’t resist me ever again.”

“Rape me all you want!” Astrid spat. “I’ll never give in to this madn- nnggh!”

Hiccup grinned cruelly as she broke off with a grunt, her body tense around his finger in her ass. He couldn’t say whether it was in pain or surprise but didn’t care either way. He didn’t plan to seriously tear her, else he wouldn’t opt to prepare her at all. But he certainly didn’t mind her suffering a bit. After all, this was a punishment!

He worked her roughly, adding a second finger soon. Astrid cried out, clearly in pain this time. Good. With his free hand, he held on to her hips, fingers digging into her skin.

“N-no. Stop!”

Hiccup didn’t listen to her as he switched his fingers for one of the dildos. It wasn’t even wider but certainly longer than his fingers, reaching far deeper into her.

“P-please stop...” she sobbed weakly. She tried to push away from him with her entire body, tensing and straining against her bonds. But it was useless. She wouldn’t escape, not until he released her.

And Hiccup had no intention of doing that anytime soon.

So far, anal sex hadn’t held much appeal to Hiccup. He was just fine with a vagina or a mouth around his cock, hot and wet. But as he worked Astrid open, changing for wider and wider lubed-up dildos every few minutes and listening to her ever-growing distress, he found the concept of her ass swallowing it all rather appealing.

Still moving the current tool, a thick wooden dildo, in and out of her, he opened his pants and fished for cock. He only needed a few strokes to become fully erect, then pulled the toy out of her and replaced it with his own length.

…

Astrid cried out, again, as she felt the change.

In a way, it was a relief to have Hiccup’s cock in her ass instead of his tools. He wasn’t as thick as the latest one and certainly more forgiving than the hardwood or metal. But at the same time, she just wanted for him to get out of her, to not do this. How much it hurt aside, having something shoved up her ass felt so wrong! Worse even than when he raped her before or thrust his cock down her throat. It hurt and she just wanted them out of her.

But what made it all even worse was how much he enjoyed it.

“Oh, gods. Fuck, yes!”

His moaned words made her feel sick in addition to everything else. She didn’t want this, didn’t want him coming in her ass.

“Don’t,” she sobbed. “Please, don’t do this. Get out!”

But Hiccup didn’t listen, just snorted in harsh amusement and thrust even harder. His fingers digging into her waist hurt but the pain got lost between everything else. Deeper and deeper he buried himself inside her. His hard thrusts made her swing back and forth, giving her even more momentum as she got impaled on his length again and again.

She was sickly familiar with his groan some minutes later, the sign that he would finish soon. Again, she pleaded. “Please, no. Please, Hiccup, pull out. Please!”

He didn’t. His pounding grew even harder still, his grip tighter until he pulled her flush against his groin and shouted out his relief. She could feel his cock swell and thrum, felt his come fill her up. Hot and bubbling and just wrong. It left her trembling and weeping quietly.

Gods, everything hurt! Her abused hole and insides but everything else, too. Her head was pounding. Her shoulders burned from how he’d bound her arms behind her back. All her muscles were screaming for relief, to stretch and relax. She’d thought she could resist any torture and still intended to - but at the same time, she wasn’t so sure anymore whether she would make it thought without breaking.

When he pulled out, she shivered and disgust overcame her in addition to everything else. Without him inside her, she felt weirdly empty. It wasn’t a good feeling, even as she certainly didn’t want him back inside. She could feel his come leaking out of her stretched hole. It ran down her thighs, slowly seeped over her belly.

Disgusting.

...

Satisfied in more than one way, Hiccup gazed down at her body, still entangled in the robes. She was trembling, weeping, and looked wonderfully ruined with his seeds dripping out of her. So she hadn’t liked him fucking her ass or him coming inside her? Well, then she would like what was to come later even less. It would be the perfect punishment, and after that, she certainly would never disobey him again. Pain and humiliation, that were the tools to break a strong woman like Astrid. And she would receive a lot more of both before he eventually would release her from these bonds.

If she learned her lesson, he might reward her with pleasure at the end, but that depended on her. Either way, Hiccup was sure that he would enjoy the coming hours - no days - immensely.

In a - probably cruel - show of reprieve, he gave her a minute’s rest. Instead of filling her up with the next bigger toy right away, he walked around her, caressing her sweaty skin wherever he pleased.

Astrid barely reacted though and just sobbed unrestrainedly. Only when he reached her breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers did she give a desperate moan, pain and pleasure mixing in that wonderfully mind-bending way. Oh yes, she was his. And very soon, she would gladly follow his every command, would beg for the chance to please him and for him to give her pleasure and relief. He kept playing with her breasts for a little bit longer, enjoyed how her nipples hardened to his touch before he moved back between her legs.

Without a word, he resumed his former work: He used a dildo nearly the size of his forearm to thoroughly widen and stretch her further. Three more even bigger ones followed before he had her where she wanted her.

“The preparations are done, my love,” he announced. He crouched down by her head again, but when he brushed her hair aside this time, she didn’t shake him off. Instead, her eye met his, blurry but still very much Astrid!

“Preparations?”

Her voice was so weak and laced with fear. It made strange things to him. Heat flaring up inside him, the need to fuck her again right away. But also the urge to protect her. He loved her after all, didn’t want her harmed.

He gritted his teeth. If only she hadn’t run away!

It was her own fault!

“Yes, preparations,” he snarled. “I don’t want you to tear and bleed to death.”

Her shaking grew even worse. “W-what are y-you doing t-to m-me?”

With his hands balled into fists, Hiccup stood again. “I told you. It’s punishment. You’d better think twice about how you behave next time.”

He made another step backward, his eyes shifting to a point at the far wall. Toothless had watched them in his usual scary-silent manner but Hiccup recognized the look of blatant hunger his big green eyes.

Hiccup nodded at his friend, knowing how much the dragon had waited for this. “Come on, bud. It’s your turn now.”

____________________

I kinda enjoyed writing this. If you enjoy reading it, please let me know. 😉

Also, I intended for this chapter to contain so much more! But it became longer than expected so I cut it here and hope the next will come sooner.

#Hiccstrid #Astrid!Whump #tw: rape #TW:Rape #tw: non/dub-con

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