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haechanniesunflowers · 4 years ago

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y/n slaps yandere!Ateez during an argument

Warnings: this kind of behaviour is sick and you shouldn't take inspiration from it. I do not support it, none of us support it or should support it. It is wrong in every way.

Mentions of blood, rage, extreme violence, gore, brutality

Requested by @btsxgx

Hongjoong

He has one rule you must remember all the time, you are not allowed to touch him without his permission, he hates being touched

You want to hold his hand? Ask him. You want to wake him up from a nap? Call his name. But you do not touch him without his permission or else he will punish you and he's a masochistic psycho so you better keep your hands to yourself

Today was a bad day for him and he was taking it out on you. He was humiliating you for no good reason even though you were on your best behaviour for him. His words were getting unbearable and then you snapped and argued back

He was stunned because you never raise your voice at him so he got physical and started pushing you harshly

In an attempt to stop him your palm landed across his jaw and suddenly everything was quite, all you could hear was your heart thumping because you had just touched him

He grabbed you by your neck and shoved you to the ground on your back and stepped on you with one foot on your ribcage

He was putting too much pressure

Hongjoong made you look at him and "you want to hurt me? That's why you hit me? Your weak hands won't do it, let me do it for you" and he started hitting his face

You tried stopping him and apologized but he wasn't having it

You had touched him and now this was your punishment, he'd hurt himself and blame it on you

Seonghwa

He's a possessive yandere so don't even think about meeting your friends

But you still kinda wanted to meet your friends so you did that, without him knowing because he was busy at work

y/n's luck really ran out today huh? Because you just came back home after having the time of your life catching up with friends and umm... is that Seonghwa in the kitchen? yes honey and I'm so sorry

"you're home early" you started the conversation and back hugged him

"yeah my students finished with their vocal lessons early so I decided to come home to spend some time with you but I guess you were out whoring around with those pathetic sluts you call friends" he said in a sweet voice but you were taken aback by his words

You let him go and tried distancing yourself from him but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to his chest and kissed you

You resisted and accidentally hit his face and you could feel him staring to breathe heavily

He stopped kissing you and pushed you towards the counter and grabbed your hand and smashed it on it several times

You were screaming your head off so he chocked you with his other hand

By the time he was done, your hand was purple, yellow and blue and two of your fingers were bent the other way, the joints completely broken. You felt dizzy and threw up

"oh no sweetheart are you okay? you should go sit on the couch I'll make some soup for you maybe you'll feel better" he cooed as if he didn't just violently break your hand

You screamed and begged for him to take you to a hospital and he took your hand in his and squeezed it while staring at you lovingly and said "of course sweetheart, afterall your stupid friends hurt your beautiful hand and I'll tell the doctor about that, maybe he'll tell you not to see them again. And then I'll report them to the police, look at how brutal those bitches are, did they really have to break your hand?" he said and took you to the hospital (yikes)

Yunho

Remember that episode of powerpuff girls in which the girls time travel to the future and the whole town is ruined because they weren't there to save them and everyone's old and keeps saying "it's your fault". That's Yunho. Everything is your fault and he'll cry over it and if you deny or leave, he'll end up in the ER.

Please explain to him why you were excitedly thanking the cashier for the store restocking your favorite moisturiser because girl you were obviously cheating on him like that *rolls eyes*

You guys got in the car and drive off and suddenly Yunho inquires about the incident with tears in his eyes "you're going to leave me for him aren't you"

He starts whining and crying and you're scared because he's almost overspending so you slap him to bring him to his senses and ge stops the car

"y-you hit me? It's because you hate me now isn't it? You love that man and now you're going to hit me to make me feel worthless" he says but you answer with a wth because you're fed up of his jealousy and he presses the gas pedal and starts driving recklessly

You start apologizing and reassuring him that you aren't going to leave him and that you love him too much to do so, even though the relationship was exhausting but you had to say this to save your life right now

Yunho stopped the car again and hugged you and smirked to himself

"haha works every time" he thought to himself

Yeosang

His silence speaks volumes

He's the unpredictable kind

So when you slapped him for constantly scolding you for saying no to his stupid plan of going to Jongho's house to watch movies he left you alone and went on his own

But he didn't come back home for the next couple of days

You were ecstatic because "yes finally now I can have some time to myself" but days turned into weeks and now he hadn't contacted you or come home for a month and as much as you hate to admit it, you were worried so you called Jongho and asked him about your boyfriend but Jongho said he hasn't spoken to Yeosang for over a month and revealed that he didn't come to his home to watch movies the day you had the argument with him

You called all his friends but they all said they didn't know where he was

You were scared and guilty and cried

You went to the police station to file a missing report and a search for Kang Yeosang began

The police searched everywhere for him for a few weeks but there was no sign of him

Until one day, a month after the search began and you were starting to lose hope, he came back home

You asked him where he was and he told you he was home

You told him to stop playing with you and demanded to know where he went and why he left you alone

"I just told you I was home, I saw how worried you got and how you cried for me. I saw you sleeping on the couch and in our bed, waiting for any lead for me"

You were terrified of what he said because all of that was true but you knew for a fact that he wasn't home so how did he know all this

"what's going on Yeosang?" you ask him in fear

He just smiled and sat on the couch and turned the TV on

You came to sit next to him and there was silence for some time until he said "y/n? Next time try to hit me, there will be a search party for you"

San

The brutal sadist

You knew better than to get on his nerves because he switches from his usual sweet doting personality to a violent mad man

But you were on your period and everything was making you angry

San was feeling horny and wanted you but you didn't want him to come near you

You were beyond angry when he didn't stop and kept kissing you and trying to undress you, so you slapped him

San caressed his cheek and laughed a little and you knew you've done fucked up

You instantly start apologizing but San kept laughing with his hand still on his cheek

"kinky. do that again" he said

But you didn't want to do that again so you kept telling him how sorry you were and that you wanted him

He looked at you and smiled and said "I said, do. that. again." you were crying at this point

The next thing you knew, San was dragging you out the room by your arm and took you to the basement where he kept his tools. You were still apologizing in hopes of him going easy on you

He fixed your arm in one of the machines (the one which Ester uses to break her arm in the movie Orphan) and kept going until you heard the sound of your broken bones

San started slapping you and you were begging for mercy at this point

He was completely out of it and looked like he would kill you right then and there

You woke up in a hospital bed and heard the doctor telling San that "your girlfriend needs to see a psychiatrist because if she has hurt herself like that now, who knows what she would do to herself in the future"

The doctor came to check you and San held your hand "honey I was so scared! why did you hurt yourself like that. You didn't even think what I would go through, you know I can't see you in pain"

You felt tears escaping

Mingi

Mingi had just insulted your sister for visiting you and kicked her out of the house

You were furious and argued with him about it and he just said "I hate her, so she shouldn't come here where I can see her"

You said "well I hate your bitchass friends and family too, they shouldn't come here either where I can see them"

He started using slurs against your family and you slapped him out of anger

He quickly pushed you towards the wall and punched you

Your lips were bleeding but he wasn't done

He said he'd do the same to your sister she ever comes here again

You protested and called him out but he punched you again, this time drawing blood from your nose

You really didn't think Mingi would ever hit you like this but he just did and you wanted to run out of the house, away from him

But he grabbed your leg as soon as you tried to get out of the room and got on top of you

"you're really getting on my nerves today bitch"

He punched you one more time and you fainted

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is the brat tamer kind and that's what you were being right now, a brat

You wanted to leave the house and go shopping but he wasn't in the mood to go out and you weren't allowed to go without him

So you started whining

He was getting annoyed and warned you

But you had a death wish of some sort and kept whining

He had had enough and started being rough with you to stop you

You protested and accidentally slapped him

You really outdid yourself and now you were in for it

He dragged you to his room, tied your limbs and ripped your clothes off

"now I'm going to punish you for what you've done baby girl and you're going to count for me"

You tried to keep yourself composed

The whip stung your back and you screamed

"that isn't a number I hear, let's start again"

Jongho

Jongho didn't like to use his strength against you under any circumstances

He loved you too much and felt that he needed to protect you

You were happy with him but sometimes he was too much

He just told you that you are forbidden from seeing your male friend again because Jongho got the vibe that he was interested in you

You told him he was thinking too much and that your friend didn't really like you like that

But he said "no means no, you're not going to meet him again"

You were angry at him because you had to meet that friend in less than an hour "how am I going to explain this to him"?

"tell him you don't want to see him, if he's smart he'll get the message" Jongho replied

"Jongho you're being unreasonable and stupid" you said and he came to stand in front of you with his arms folded on his chest

You hated that he was challenging you right now so you slapped him

He didn't even budge because your slap was nothing compared to what he could do and he didn't want to slap you

But as payback, he forcefully took your phone and called your friend

"you make my girlfriend uncomfortable, don't ever try contacting her or meeting her again if you know what's good for you" he said on the phone

You were embarrassed and annoyed

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plaidbooks · 4 years ago

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My Beautiful Rose

A/N: Oof, this is a long one, and I wanna thank Karen for helping me with the concept! It’s a Sonny Carisi x reader fic, covers the Flowers/Candy square in the VDay bingo, and may or may not get a part 2; who knows? Hope you enjoy! P.S. I’m sorry for my lack of medical knowledge! P.S.S. this jumps perspective a lot.

Tags: talks of stab wounds, blood, ventilators/tubes, whump

Words: 4197

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @barbasimp @alwaysachorusgirl @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

Sonny was working late again tonight, you knew. It was obvious by the box of chocolates he had sent home, as an apology for not making it home for dinner. The bouquet of red roses was just a bonus, because he liked to call you “his beautiful rose.” You didn’t mind—he often worked late nights as detective—but you were always worried. Always afraid to get that phone call, that Sonny wasn’t coming home. You looked at your new engagement ring, twisting it gently around your finger. He was fine; he was always fine. But that didn’t stop the worry from eating away at you every time he stepped out that door, badge and gun on his hip. What you didn’t know was how much worse it was to not get that phone call.

***

The nurses burst through the doors of the ER, jogging with the gurney, the man passed out with an oxygen mask laying lifeless on top of it, blood staining his shirt. A doctor caught up with them, falling into step beside them.

“What do we have?” he asked.

“Multiple stab wounds in the chest area—heart rate is 74 and dropping, blood pressure is 90/60, respiratory rate is 10 per minute, O2Sat is 90% and temperature is 95. He lost a lot of blood, at least 10%,” a nurse listed off.

“Jesus…any vital organs punctured?”

“Hard to tell without X-rays, but by the way he’s rasping, he may have a punctured lung.”

The doctor nodded. “Prep him for X-rays and a transfusion. I’ll disinfect and be right in.”

***

You woke up in the morning with no word from Sonny, and your heart started to race. You tried to push the anxiety down; you had texted him the night before with no reply, but that wasn’t unheard of. Sometimes, he was super busy. Other times, he looked at the text, then got caught up in something else and simply forgot to respond. Though, when half the day went by and you had heard nothing, you couldn’t stop the panic that tore through you. Maybe he was working a triple shift and was napping at the precinct. Or maybe something terrible had happened. You tried texting him again, and then waited.

***

“No, I’m sorry Bella, you can’t visit him,” Olivia was saying into her phone. She was leaning against the wall in the hallway of the hospital. “It’s not safe right now; this was a hit, and his family can be targeted.” She waited, listening to the youngest Carisi on the phone. “I know that this is hard, but I promise to keep you updated, okay?” She hung up, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger before re-entering the hospital room.

Amanda was in the visitor’s chair by the bed, working on her laptop. Liv glanced at Sonny, unconscious in the hospital bed, his slowly rising and falling chest the only sign of life…though, the machine strapped to his face, tube down his throat, was helping him breathe. She felt overwhelming guilt that this had happened to the young detective, that he was now battling for his life.

It was supposed to be a routine escort—Sonny was simply taking a working girl to the hotel room that would act as her refuge until the trial against her pimp. But the information had leaked, and they were jumped, both Sonny and the girl being stabbed multiple times. The girl died on the way to the hospital, and Sonny had been barely clinging to life. The knife had punctured a lung, and it slowly filled with blood as he was rushed to the hospital. Another couple minutes, and he’d be dead.

The good news was that the doctor was optimistic about his chances of making a full recovery. The bad news was that this happened at all, and that they now didn’t have a witness to testify against the pimp. Though, if Sonny did pull through, he could hopefully testify…if there was a connection between the men that jumped him and the pimp, which there was no doubt in Olivia’s mind that the two were connected. Either way, Sonny wasn’t safe, which is why Olivia was barring anyone but officers or detectives from seeing him. And only then, it was people she knew, people she trusted. She didn’t know who leaked the location of the hotel room, but she would find out.

“Rollins; why don’t you head home? You’ve been here all night. I’ll stay here with him for the rest of the day until Fin switches out,” Olivia murmured, patting the blonde’s shoulder motherly.

Amanda looked like she would argue at first, but she was so exhausted, and she sighed. “Yeah, okay. Keep me updated, yeah?” She closed her laptop, pushing to stand.

“Of course. Stay safe—watch your six.”

Amanda nodded, heading out the door. Olivia didn’t really think that they could be in trouble for being associated with Sonny. But she wasn’t taking any chances. Glancing at Sonny, she sunk into the chair Amanda had abandoned, pulling out her phone, and going through emails.

***

After you awoke on the second morning with still nothing from Sonny, it solidified the notion that something was wrong. He has never gone this long without notifying you, work or no. And your calls and texts had been going unanswered—a bad sign indeed. With no other choice, you grabbed your things, heading to the precinct of SVU with shaking hands.

*************************

The building was busy, officers mulling about, rushing to and from desks and file cabinets and fax machines and copiers. After being pointed towards the SVU department, you headed up the elevator, starting to feel very nervous indeed about being here. Sonny had made it clear that he kept his home life separate from his work life, and while he’d talk to you about work and cases, you didn’t know how much his coworkers knew about you…if at all.

Making your way towards all the desks, you glanced around the room, trying to find your fiancé. But when you didn’t see him, your eyes went glassy with tears, and you struggled to hold yourself together.

“May I help you?” a woman asked, coming over to you. “I’m Lieutenant Olivia Benson; are you okay?”

“I…is there a Detective Dominick Carisi Jr. here?” you asked, voice watery.

The lieutenant seemed to stiffen at his name and a wave of worry washed through you. You noticed the other personnel around you giving you a hard look, and you shuffled uncomfortably.

“Come with me,” Benson said tersely, leading you towards a room off to the side. You followed her, eager to get away from the probing stares. She gestured you to enter, then followed you in, closing the door behind her. “What’s your name and why are you looking for Carisi?”

You blinked in surprise at her harsh tone. “I…it’s been almost three days since I last saw him and I’m worried. He’s not answering his phone, and I don’t know how else to track him down—”

Benson put her hand up, stopping you. “Name and why you’re looking for him. Now.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you choked out your name. “H-he’s my…he’s my fiancé, and I just want to know if he’s alive—please. If you know where he is—”

“Fiancé? Funny, he never mentioned being engaged, let alone having a girlfriend.”

With shaky hands, you reached for your purse, and Benson reached for her gun. “I’m just…phone,” you sobbed, grabbing your cell and pulling it out. You unlocked your phone, turning it towards her. Your home screen was a picture of Sonny with his arm around your shoulders, kissing the side of your head while you showed off your new engagement ring. “I-I got more pictures,” you murmured, scrolling until you found the photo album, opening it to hundreds of pictures of you and Sonny, flipping through them, proving your relationship to him.

Benson seemed to deflate as she looked at your phone. “Oh…I’m so sorry…. He never mentioned—”

“He keeps work and home separate,” you said, putting your phone back in your purse. “Now, please tell me if he’s still alive.”

***************

Your heart was in your throat as you road in the squad car to the hospital. At first, Lieutenant Benson wasn’t willing to take you to the hospital to see Sonny, claiming it was too dangerous. But all your worry and anxiety turned into white-hot rage at being kept from him, and she reluctantly agreed, already feeling guilty about thinking you may be someone trying to finish the job. You followed the lieutenant closely, still shaking slightly, unable to remain calm until you saw him, confirmed that he was still alive.

You froze it the doorway to his room when she entered, moving to the blonde woman in the visitor’s chair and exchanging a few mumbled words with her. But they were deaf to your ears as you stared at Sonny’s lifeless form on the bed, ventilator strapped to his face, machines buzzing and whirring around him. Letting out a choked sob, you rushed over to him, reaching out for his hand then stopping yourself, afraid to touch him, to hurt him somehow.

In a calm voice, Benson explained what had happened, and you half-listened, wincing at words like “stabbed” and “punctured lung.”

“Will he be okay?” you asked, wiping away the tears trailing down your cheeks.

“The doctor said that he should make a full recovery, yes,” Benson replied, and for the first time in three days, relief swept through you. But only briefly, before worry and anxiety crashed back into you. You nodded, bringing the other visitor’s chair over and plopping down into it. You had found Sonny; he was alive.

“Oh, you can’t stay here, hun,” the blonde detective said softly, as if you were a child. “It’s not safe.”

“My fiancé has been missing for three days and is on a ventilator. I’m not leaving his side,” you replied through gritted teeth. This time, you did reach out and grab his hand; it was warm and reaffirmed that he was still alive.

“And if they come here to finish the job—”

“You’re going to have to arrest me, because I’m not leaving him. If someone tries to hurt my Dominick, then I’ll…I’ll…” you trailed off; you didn’t know what you’d do. But you wouldn’t go down without a fight. Sonny was your everything, and now that you found him again, you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Even the thought of leaving him to go to the bathroom filled you with dread.

Benson sighed heavily, looking defeated. “I…don’t want to arrest you, but I will to keep you safe. Especially for Carisi. But please don’t make me do that. Come quietly.”

“I’m not leaving him,” you said resolutely, gripping his hand tighter. Your breath caught when you felt him squeeze back gently, just a twitch of the fingers. Whipping your head to look at him, you stood from the chair, moving to stand directly over him. The machines were making a different noise now, but he still wasn’t moving.

“[y/n], you are under arrest,” Benson started, placing a cool, metal handcuff around your free wrist, unaware of the change in him. But she stopped as nurses rushed in, talking to each other in jargon you didn’t understand, checking the machines, and checking Sonny.

“What’s happening?” you asked, voice catching in your throat. You no longer felt the handcuff on your skin as a nurse gently pushed you away from Sonny’s body.

“Mr. Carisi is starting to breathe on his own—he doesn’t need the ventilator anymore. He also seems to be waking up; did you notice any change in his condition?” the nurse asked.

You blinked back the tears threatening to form. “He, uh, I squeezed his hand, and I thought he squeezed back….”

The nurse nodded before going back to the bed, helping the other nurses. You watched as Sonny’s eyelids slowly fluttered, the ventilator now gone, his breath coming in raspy through his slightly ajar mouth. You leaned forward, wanting nothing more than to hold him as he slowly came to, blinking and looking around at all the faces staring back at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but a nurse told him not to, that he was going to be sore for a little bit. Instead, she poured him some water, held it while he took a few sips from the straw.

Finally, his dull blue eyes found you, standing just to the side of his bed, behind the nurses surrounding him. “[y/n]?” he croaked, his voice sounding foreign.

You smiled softly at him, tears trailing down your cheeks. “I’m here, Dominick. You’re okay; you’re safe.”

After the nurses had finished doing whatever it was they had to, they left, reminding Sonny to try not to talk, giving him a small white board and pen to communicate. It seemed like you weren’t the only one entranced by the nurses—Benson still only had one handcuff on you, and the other detective had been watching with big eyes. Taking advantage of their latency, you pulled out of Benson’s grip, rushing back to Sonny’s side, clutching his hand.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re okay—that you’re alive. I was so fucking scared, Dom,” you murmured, kissing his hand.

“I love you,” he rasped, and you gave him a hard look that had no real weight behind it.

“I love you, too, but no talking. Use the board and pen, babe,” you urged, gesturing towards the board in his lap. ‘No talking’ for Sonny was going to be rough; he was the most talkative person you knew.

Sonny smiled at you, but it quickly faded as he saw the metal cuff hanging from your wrist. His eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Benson meaningfully, then gestured with his head to you. So, maybe he didn’t need to talk to get his point across.

Benson launched into the story of what happened yet again, ending with how he wasn’t safe in the hospital room. Then, you supplied what the last three days had been like at home, and that you went to the precinct for answers before being brought here.

“I was only going to arrest her to take her some place safe. In case you get attacked here,” Benson explained.

“But I’m not leaving your side,” you quickly added.

Sonny looked torn, his eyes downcast as he thought. Finally, he took his hand from you, opening the pen and bringing the board close to him, so you couldn’t see what he was writing. Finished, he flipped it back towards you, and you read: I love you, but go with Lieutenant Benson. It’s not safe here

You glanced back into his face, his now bright blue eyes sad, and he blinked away the tears quickly. “I can’t leave you, Dom,” you muttered.

“Please,” he croaked out, voice weak.

You closed your eyes as a few tears escaped down your cheeks. “Okay,” you finally agreed. “For you Dominick. You stay safe, you get better, and then you come home, okay?”

Sonny nodded, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. Then he quickly erased his board, writing something else, then showed it to Benson: Protect her, make sure she’s got unis at our place

“Of course,” Benson replied, and he visibly relaxed back onto the bed. You allowed her to lead you out of the room, taking one last look at your fiancé before you left.

*******************

It had been two days since you had seen Sonny. He had his phone again, but he was still discouraged from talking, so you texted more than anything. Though, it was killing you not to see him. And yet, he still somehow managed to send you a new bouquet of roses. You chuckled sadly, tears in your eyes when they showed up at your door; Sonny was the only person you knew who could be in a hospital bed and sending you flowers. You made sure to have a florist take some to him, as well; even if you couldn’t be there in person, his beautiful rose was thinking of him.

There was a knock on the door, and you rolled your eyes, thinking Sonny had sent something else now. But opening the door, you were face-to-face with a gangster wannabe-looking man. You had a moment to be confused before he lunged at you, something sharp glinting in his hand. Acting on your most basic instincts, you dodged backwards, the knife only slicing through your shirt. Both of your momentums had you stumbling backwards into your loft. You regained your balance first, grabbing the closest thing to you as a weapon. It was the vase of beautiful red roses, and you whipped your arm around, smashing it into the side of his head. Glass, water, and flowers exploded everywhere as the man tumbled to the ground, blood seeping out from his head. Hands shaking and chest heaving, you scrambled to find your phone, calling Sonny.

You heard the call connect and you didn’t even wait for him to speak before your words rushed out of you. “I was attacked at home and I hit the guy in the head and now he’s bleeding out on the carpet and I don’t know what to do—"

“Woah, calm down,” Sonny replied hoarsely. His voice was getting stronger, but it wasn’t back to normal quite yet. “You were attacked?”

You sniffed, tears clouding your vision. “Y-yeah; he just…knocked on the door, and I answered like an idiot—”

“Holy shit, are you okay? What happened to the unis? I’m sending—” Sonny started hacking and coughing, and your heart sank.

“Calm down, Dom. I’m safe, babe. I’m okay. Drink water…. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called—”

He pulled himself together. “Fuck that; you call me first.” He coughed a moment more, and you heard him swallow liquid. He cleared his throat. “I’m sending Lieutenant Benson there, okay?”

You glanced at the man still unmoving on the floor. “What do I do with the guy? He’s laying face down…did I kill him?” you asked, voice soft.

“Shit, I forgot he’s still there! Get out of our loft—can you go next door to the Thompsons? Get away from him, but don’t go outside,” Sonny instructed.

“I-I don’t know, Dom…I’ll see if they’re home—” you stopped talking as you heard voices in the hallway outside your loft.

“What the hell is taking Juan so long? It’s just some bitch,” a man said.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you rushed to the master bedroom, closing and locking the door. With a burst of inspiration, you opened the window leading to the fire escape before tucking yourself into the bathroom, locking the door, hoping beyond hope that they’d take the bait, thinking you escaped out the window.

You heard a muffled voice and realized that it was Sonny yelling into the phone still clutched in your hand. “[y/n]! What the hell’s happening?” he asked, voice raspy.

“Th-there’s more of them,” you whispered. “I can’t talk; gotta stay quiet.”

“Liv’s on her way—she should be there any minute now. Just stay calm, stay quiet. You’re going to be okay; I promise. I’ll stay on the line with you until you’re safe,” Sonny muttered back, trying his best to keep the panic from his voice.

You heard the exclamation from them finding their buddy on your floor in the foyer, then footsteps coming down the hallway. You clutched the phone closer to your ear, like Sonny’s voice was a lifeline. There was a loud pounding, then wood splintering as the door frame shattered in your bedroom. You let out a soft whimper, tears streaming down your face. You could no longer hear Sonny’s voice, all your focus trained on the footsteps on the other side of the bathroom door.

“Fuck; she went out the window. Find her before she makes it to the hospital—we can’t get her once she’s there,” the same man’s voice from before ordered. You let out a sigh of relief as the footsteps retreated. But you still didn’t hear Sonny’s voice. Glancing at your phone, you saw that it was dead.

***

“What is it? What happened?” Sonny asked desperately when he heard the door explode open, heard you let out a scared whimper. But you didn’t respond. All he got was a soft beeping, letting him know the call dropped. He frantically redialed, heart beating rapidly in his chest, but it went straight to voicemail. Tears in his eyes, he shoved himself up to sitting position, flinging the sheets off himself.

“What the hell are you doing?” Amanda asked, springing up for the visitor’s chair and grabbing his shoulder, trying to force him back in bed.

“[y/n] needs me; I can’t get ahold of her! There were men in our loft; she’s in danger. I gotta go—”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do in this condition?” Amanda forced him back in bed, but Sonny pushed and shoved at her. She was tired from spending all her time either there in the hospital or at work, having not slept a full night in days, while Sonny was well-rested, besides his injuries.

“I don’t care! She needs me!” Sonny got her hands off him, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Nurse!” Amanda yelled; her last resort, as she grabbed at Sonny’s shoulders, trying to wrestle him down. It took five nurses, plus Amanda, to shove Sonny back onto the bed, holding him still long enough to sedate him. He cursed at all of them in broken English and Italian, tears in his eyes as the drug worked its way through his system, and he finally passed out.

***

You never left the bathroom, even though the loft was quiet, until Olivia got there with officers in tow. The man you had hit, Juan, was still laying face down on the carpet, the blood now thoroughly staining your carpet. Olivia told you that he was miraculously still alive—you felt better knowing you didn’t kill someone—and that the officers would deal with getting an ambulance for him. She was more concerned about getting you somewhere safe; the unis charged with watching you were dead.

“The guys that came in after this guy said that they can’t get me at the hospital,” you said, remembering his words. Olivia gave you a look but didn’t argue; she seemed beaten down from the past week. So, she led you from the loft after you packed a few essentials—including your phone charger—and drove you back to the hospital.

You practically rush into Sonny’s room, Olivia on your heels, but you stopped short when you saw Sonny unconscious, that blonde detective from before sitting next to him.

“What happened?” you asked, coming to stand by his bed, trailing your fingers over his arm. His hair was slightly ruffled, his shirt askew.

“Had to sedate him—he tried to leave cause he couldn’t get ahold of you,” the woman explained.

Olivia ran a hand through her hair while your heart broke. “Rollins, go home; it’s my turn anyways.” The blonde nodded, waving a goodnight before leaving. You took her seat, pulling yourself close to Sonny’s bed, taking his limp hand in yours. Olivia joined you in the other visitor’s chair, but sat far enough back to make it seem like you had your own space with him.

You poured a glass of water for when he’d awake, and noticed all the cards, flowers, and small gifts on the table, making your heart full. You were happy that Sonny was so loved, that his friends and coworkers cared about him so much. You smiled at the bouquet of roses you had sent him, pushed to the front so that he could see them clearly.

Sonny was only out for another 30 minutes, and he was groggy when he awoke, disorientated. Though, his dull eyes found you immediately, latching on to your face like he was trying to memorize you.

He opened his mouth, but you shook your head. “Don’t speak; save your throat. Here,” you lifted the glass of water to his lips, letting him drink his fill from the straw.

Even with your words, Sonny cleared his throat. “I thought something bad happened to you,” he murmured, words slightly slurred from the medication still in him. He blinked a few times, trying to focus his eyes.

“I’m safe, babe. I’m…so sorry to have made you worry. But I’m here; I’m safe.” You broke on the last word, tears streaming down your face. Sonny reached for your hand, squeezing you in comfort.

“I’m glad you’re safe…my beautiful rose…I love you,” Sonny whispered, kissing your knuckles.

You tried to control yourself. “I love you, too, Dominick. I’m glad you’re safe, too. Let’s just…worry about getting you back to full health.”

He nodded. “With you here, I feel better already.”

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #thatesqcrushvdaybingo #fanfic #my writing

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inyourwildestdreamslove · 4 years ago

Text

Forgotten

No one can remember the last time the Fae were seen in Middle Earth. They were once revered as the most powerful of the races with mystical powers, unlike any in the world has seen. Sauron knew the only way for his plans to succeed was to get rid of them, so he rid the world of them. However, one day you fall into the company of Thorin Oakenshield.

Coincidence or fate? No one knows...

As the last of the Fae you are unsure what to do... All you really want is a bath...

... And the attention of a certain golden-haired Prince... What's a girl to do?

Pairing: Fili x Reader

Chapter 1: Of Falls and Fairy Circles

The market is bustling as you dance your way through the stalls full of art and jewelry. Saturday at the market is easily your favorite day of week especially after you just got paid. Suddenly, a stone on one of the nearby tables catches your eye. It seems to almost have a light shining from it taking your breath away. It is clear with a bright blue light that just seems to shine among all the moonstones and labradorites. You hesitantly pick it up from the stall knowing that it is way out of budget and yet the price tag says $60. You blink in confusion at the piece before your hand secures, almost greedily, around the pendant as you call the owner over.

“I’ll take this one,” you say, pulling out your wallet.

“Sure! What length chain would you like?” she asks briskly, busy with the plethora of customers surrounding you both.

You gaze at the pendant thoughtfully, the shard looking glamorously delicate and intricate, “thirty-six.”

She nods and quickly takes payment, but you stop her from wrapping it up, “I’ll just wear it out, thanks.” She hands it over with a friendly enough smile before she is pulled away by another buyer.

You spend the rest of the afternoon meandering around the stalls of the market. Artisans are selling their crafts and you admire each of them happily. When you are finished you buy a meal from a local food truck and sit happily at one of the picnic tables scattered about the outside of the market. Once finished you throw back the last of your drink before you dispose of the trash and make your way back towards your apartment.

The evening air is brisk and warm with a breeze as the sunset paints the sky various colors of pinks and oranges. It’s only when you feel the telltale drop of rain that you become slightly concerned. You quicken your pace, annoyed you hadn’t driven to the market even though it wasn’t far from your home. As the rain picks up you begin to rush down the street as the once peaceful evening is ravaged by black clouds and lightning. Your apartment is almost in sight as you rush across the bridge, the only thing between you and home.

With a jolt of lightning and a crack of thunder, the bolt catches a nearby streetlamp. You scream as you are thrown back and away. Suddenly water is all around you, a vortex of wind and rain. The only time you seem able to see is when the sky is illuminated by the ominous bolts of lightning.

You scream for help, disoriented, and confused about what is happening, how did you get into the water?

Now it is time to choose…

The light and airy voice startle you. You have no idea how you could hear it over the raging storm. Suddenly all is quiet, almost deafeningly so after the roar of the storm raging around you.

You must choose between life…

And death…

“What does that mean?!” you yell into nothing, to no one.

Living means accepting your destiny… yourself…

“And what does dying mean?!” you ask in panic.

Failure…

Now choose…

The voice echoing in your head is silent, leaving you with your thoughts. You are beyond confused about everything, but what are you supposed to do? You don’t want to die!

“I want to choose life!”

Your choice has been made then? Just know you will never be able to return here…

“What do you mean?”

You have chosen destiny…

You scream as you are abruptly thrown back into the storm and tossed about like a ragdoll in the washing machine. When just as abruptly as it all started… it stops.

Opening your eyes you gaze around you at the lush forest before looking down on the bed of flowers you’ve landed in encircled by mushrooms. The earth is soft and damp beneath you, the moss and foliage having softened your fall. The sky's the deep blue of the evening, you notice the way that the colors of twilight are just beginning to paint the sky. Sitting up you vaguely wonder how you got here, but you can remember nothing. Panic takes over as you search the area around you for anything or anyone. You find nothing. The only thing that floats across your mind is a singular name: Cwen.

You sit up and feel your body scream as you do, with a groan you hold your aching head. Glancing down at your clothes you notice the dress you are wearing, it’s long and a deep black. It’s now stained and ripped in multiple places. You stumble to your feet and after a moment you finally gain your footing as you brace yourself against a tree. You lean your pounding forehead against the rough bark and gasp as whispers tickle your ears. You pull away and look around, but hear nothing and see no one. You tense as your instincts begin to truly kick in. You have no idea who you are or where you are and you’re scared.

There is a crack from behind you causing you to whip around in enough time to see the ugliest creature you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s like a cross between a wolf and a hyena, with a scream you stumble back and away from it. The creature begins to stalk towards you, haunches raised in a low snarl, and with each step, you feel your fear grow. You are backed up against the tree and as you press against it you hear the whispers again. You can’t understand them, but honestly, you have more important things to worry about.

As the creature leaps towards you you scream and hold your arms up, if not to shield yourself, to at least not watch it take a bite out of your face. It never comes though, in its stead is a low whine and groan.

Hesitantly, you lower your arms and open your eyes to see the creature suspended in midair impaled on a branch from the very tree you are leaning against. The branch had gone down the creature’s throat, spearing it and killing it instantly. You’re too terrified to scream as you turn away from the horrid sight and lose your dinner all onto the ground. When you have gained enough wits about you, you run.

You don’t look where you are going as you make a mad dash through the forest, not that it would matter anyway. The only thing on your mind is sheer terror as you just run. Before you know it night has fallen and you can only slump against a fallen log as you try to catch your breath. Now too exhausted to do anything other than sit and think you regard the quickly darkening forest around you and another kind of fear sets in. You curl yourself up into a ball and ponder your options. You could either try to find a place to stay for the night or some civilization and pray that no one will try to murder you, or you could stay where you are and hope that nothing finds you and tries to murder you. Either way, you really hope you don’t get murdered tonight.

With a resigned sigh, realizing that you are very far from where you once were and if anyone is looking for you it would have been best to stay there. However, you know you have a better chance of potentially being able to find light in the dark and hope that you could be led to a road or a city. Anything.

Your memories are slowly coming back, although nothing concrete yet. You remember concepts but you can’t recall a single person, even though you know you know people. No family. No friends. You don’t remember your home and you can’t recall a singular memory of your life.

You have no idea how long you’ve been walking when you see it in the distance, a fire! You quickly make your way through the forest and you stumble across a campsite. The fire is still roaring in the pit, there are what look to be crudely made sleeping bags and various other packs and supplies scattered about as if the owners will be back any moment now. The smell of food is coming from a pot over the fire and you approach it to see stew bubbling. You glance around and call out a few times wondering if anyone is around and if they would answer. When no one approaches or answers you feel a bit like Goldielocks as you take a wooden bowl and scoop some of the stew into it. You have no idea when you last ate, but after running through the forest for hours being scared out of your mind, food sounds delightful and surely no one would mind if you ate some. After all, there looks to be plenty…

You plop yourself down on a log near the fire to keep the chill of the cool night air at bay. The dress you are wearing is not meant to keep you warm on such a cold night. Why are you wearing something so unsuitable for the weather anyway? You wonder this as you eat the stew the happiest that you’ve been since this madness started.

Glancing into the darkness you can make out yells in the distance. Happy that there are people around, you get up off of the log before you take off into the bushes. You aren’t thinking as you see the light of a campfire in the distance and you rush towards it. ‘People!’ you think in relief. However, the minute you step into the clearing you realize you’ve made a grave mistake.

“Oh? Wat do we ‘ave ‘ere?” questions a giant thing that just so happens to be much uglier and smellier than the creature from before, all with gray skin and a large gut.

“Looks like a ‘uman wooman…” says one with a high nasally voice.

“It’s been soo l-ong since we’ve ‘ad wooman! Soo much more fatty than man!” Delights a third.

Wait… did this… thing just call you fat?

“Did you just-?” you start in indignation when one of them takes a step forward with the intent of scooping you up. You jump out of the way and hear a roar of male voices. Glance at the spit and then at a pen in the corner you notice a bunch of men being held hostage by the things before you.

“Why yoo lit-tle!” exclaims the one that missed.

“Oi! Leave the lass alone!” Yells a gruff voice, he is joined by a chorus of gruff masculine voices.

“No shame!!”

“Pick on someone your own size!”

The deep gruff voices of the men around you at least prove to you that they are decent people. However, you don’t have time to ponder too much about it as you jump and tumble about the camp, all while attempting to keep your dress down. Vaguely you hope none of the men saw your bike shorts. Ok so it really wouldn’t matter, but it kills the illusion.

“Got ya now!” yells one as you are cornered back against the trunk of a tree. You throw your arms up and suddenly there is silence.

“Oi! No fair!” yells the nasally one.

You slowly open your eyes and lower your arms only to see the things blinking at you through thick branches of the tree you're against. The branches now protecting you are woven together creating a barrier between you and your would-be captors.

“Enough of this!” yells the one who seems to be the ring leader as he stomps forward and pushes another out of the way. He takes hold of the branches and begins to attempt to pry them apart. You can hear the men in the background yelling again about them leaving you alone after a brief stunned silence. You feel your fear beginning to creep up on you again as the branches begin to give way to the strength of the beast before you. The popping and cracking of splintering wood assault your ears. Your breathing quickens and the only thing you can think of is how you wished they would just leave you alone!

“Hey! Stop!” yells one of them.

“Let go!” yells another.

“Oi wat’s-” the thing is cut off as vines snake up its body and wrap itself around the creatures. You watch in confused horror as the things all struggle with the vines still wrapping itself dutifully around them. No matter how much they struggle they are no match for the creeping vines entangling then.

You see a flash of something in the distance before you hear the words, “By the dawn!” and a deafening crack rings in the air. You watch as the morning sun hits the creatures and moments later they are stone wrapped in vines. You blink in confusion as the man makes his way into the clearing. He checks on the men first, cutting the ties on one of the bags they are in before he makes his way over to you.

“My dear… are you alright?” You look up through the broken branches into the kind eyes of the man now kneeling in the brush before you. Perhaps it was the events you just witnessed or the stress of the night, or perhaps it was just that grandfatherly kindness that he regards you with, but at that moment you just shake your head and begin to sob.

“Oh, come now child…” he says kindly, as he carefully helps you from the branches and pulls you further into the clearing, “there, there… you’ll be alright…”

“Is she hurt?” asks a male voice from behind the old man before you.

“Aye! Get the lass something decent to wear! She must be freezing!”

“Is she a witch?” questions another with fear in his voice.

Startled out of your emotional breakdown by the men now standing all around you you stumble back.

“Hold steady, lass!” says one who reaches out and catches you just before you hit the ground. In that moment, you may as well be in an old Hollywood movie. You are suddenly gazing up into a pair of golden brown eyes as the sun paints a halo of warm light around his blonde hair. You blink up at him in confusion before he rights you and you, much to your surprise, gaze down at him. Wait… down?

You look about at the men surrounding you and you are taller than all of them, except for the old man who towers above you. Not that you are not exactly tall, to begin with, but this is unexpected.

Before you can say or do anything a heavy piece of fabric that smells distinctly like man and earth is draped around your shoulders. Another short man with a bright smile and deep blue eyes is on your other side helping to steady you, “You alright there?”

“Umm… thank you… I don’t know…” you say with uncertainty.

“Are you hurt then?” questions another in concern shoving the blue-eyed man away.

“The lass is hurt!” shouts another with an odd-shaped hat.

“Make way! Make way!” yells yet another, and at this point, you are wondering how many there are.

A man with a trumpet to his ear is thrust through the crowd towards you. He grumbles to himself about the rough treatment before he straightens himself up and regards you professionally.

“You hurt, lass?” He asks gruffly.

“Umm… maybe?” You answer in confusion.

“Maybe?” he asks in the same gruff tone as before.

“Well everything kind of hurts, but it's more of an ache from… everything…” you gesture unhelpfully around you just hoping he would get the idea.

“Aye… Sounds like ye just need some rest is all. Right as rain soon!” He nods as if that solves all of life’s problems before he makes his way back through the group to complete whatever it was he was doing before he was shoved so unceremoniously through the crowd.

“You’re not hurt then?” Asks the dark-haired blue-eyed man from before giving you what could only be described as puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t think so…” you murmur softly as you lean back against the claw-like branches that had acted as your shield.

“So what exactly did you… uh… do back there?” Questions the man with the funny hat indicating the branches behind you.

“Umm well… I don’t know…”

“Are ye a witch?” Questions one with hair that vaguely resembles a star.

“I don’t think so…”

“You don’t think so? Ye either are! Or you’re not!” He exclaims.

“Aye, now lad! Just calm down!” Says the one with the weird hat.

While the two argue about whether you are or are not a witch, the golden-haired man from before approaches you quietly.

“Are you alright milady?” He asks with a kind smile.

You sigh softly, “I think so…” you’re flustered from your lack of memory.

“What did you mean when you said you didn’t think you were a witch? Are you unsure?” He asks kindly.

“I don’t… remember anything… so I don’t know what I am… I don’t remember ever doing anything like that, and you would think I would if I did… right?” You say uncertainty and fear clouding your voice.

“If I didn’t know any better…” begins the old man, “I would say that’s Fae magic.” His eyes twinkle as he catches yours. As if he is a grandfather with a secret stash of treats and he’s about to tell you where he hides the candy after dinner.

“Impossible!” Yells a deep voice from behind everyone. This one is majestic with graying hair and a beard shorter than many of the others. He’s also taller than most of them, even if you still have about 2 to 3 inches on him.

“The Fae haven’t been seen in Middle Earth for ages, you know that better than anyone Gandalf!” He continues.

“Yes, but that,” he says indicating the claw-like branches you are leaning against and the vines wrapping around the now stone things, “is distinctly Fae magic. And as the only one here who has seen Fae magic, I think I would know what it looks like!”

He ends on a very decisive note and his eyes are daring anyone to oppose him.

The majestic one narrows his eyes as he regards you, “you can’t remember anything? Nothing at all?”

“About myself? Not really…”

“What about your name?” Questions the dark-haired one from before. He seems younger than most of the men surrounding you, perhaps it’s his lack of beard? Or perhaps it’s their very imposing beards that make them seem older than they are? Honestly, you’re just confused.

“Umm the only name I remember is Cwen, I don’t even know if it’s mine.”

“Ye don’t know?” Asks the one with the odd hat.

“It doesn’t… feel right,” you explain and he seems to understand if the nod of his head is any indication. The flaps on this hat bounce up and down with the motion.

“We should take her to Rivendell,” the old man now known as Gandalf says.

“We aren’t going anywhere near those damn elves…” growls the majestic one.

“Elrond would know what to do, perhaps even help her with her… abilities…” argues Gandalf.

“What or who is a ‘Rivendell?’” you ask the golden-haired one that is still lingering next to you quietly.

“It’s not a what or a who, it’s a where,” he says with a wink.

You give him a small smile in thanks before you hear a voice, “Umm excuse me… Miss?”

You look down to see an even smaller man! If that’s even possible at this point...

“Oh… um… yes?”

“Bilbo Baggins, at your service! Would you like some water?” he asks, suddenly handing you a waterskin.

You smile down at him before plucking the waterskin from his hands, “Yes, thank you!”

“Milady, we should probably get you into more suitable clothing,” says a new man with gray hair done in an intricate braid. He seems slightly more proper than some of the others and you just nod absentmindedly glancing down at your ruined and pretty much useless dress.

“Aye!” grunts a balding one, who looks more so like he would kill you than talk to you, “Why are you ye dressed so… impractical.” You can tell he wanted to say something else, the kindly man next to him elbowed him just as he was about to.

“Honestly… I wondered the same thing…” you say as you regard the sandals you are wearing as you examine one foot then the other and the dress. “I don’t think this was on the agenda for the day honestly.”

Meanwhile, you ignore the two men arguing about elves in the background before you realize there are elves…

“There are elves here?” you question softly as you gaze at the men now making their way back towards the once-abandoned camp. You step over logs and hold your dress up enough to keep from getting it snagged on the underbrush of the forest. The golden haired one offering you a hand every once in a while to steady you. You grimace at the way your ankles and feet itch though.

“Of course there is, lass!” exclaims the one with the odd hat, “Surely you’ve heard of Elves!.”

“Are they tiny?” you ask suddenly, slightly concerned that everyone in this land is just very short.

“Tiny?” he questions before he bursts into laughter at the idea, “Not exactly, lass. They are about the same size as the race of men, perhaps a little taller on some occasions.”

“Men? You aren’t ‘men’ then?” you ask innocently.

“What?! You thought we were Men?!” Laughs the dark-haired one.

“Well if you aren’t Men… what are you?” you ask in confusion.

“Why Dwarves, of course!” exclaims a loud man with red hair, “The best craftsmen and warriors of Middle Earth! You’d have thought she’s never seen a Dwarf before!”

“Umm… but I haven’t…” you say hesitantly.

“Haven’t what?” questions the odd hat one.

“Seen any Dwarves… or Elves for that matter… I don’t think we have either where I come from...” you ponder out loud, trailing off slightly in thought.

The Dwarves are silent around you as they take in this new information.

“She’s a witch I say!” exclaims the one with odd hair once again.

“Oh hush Nori!” exclaims the one with the elaborate braid.

“You really aren’t from around here, are ye lass?” questions the one with the odd hat.

“No… I’m really not… and I’m not quite sure how I got here either…” you say with tears beginning to prick your eyes. You push them away because now is no time to cry.

“Aye… Don’t you worry lass! We’ll make sure you find your way to safety,” the one with the odd hat winks at you before he gets up to go talk to Gandalf.

“Aye, you shouldn’t worry,” says the Golden-haired man, um... Dwarf, “He’s right, we won’t let any harm come to you alright?”

You give him a small smile and a nod, “Thank you.”

“Come on. Bit of breakfast will do you some good,” he says as he helps you to your feet, “Oh! I’m Fili, by the way and that over there is my brother, Kili.”

“Fili and Kili?” you ask softly so you can remember their names.

“Aye, that over there is my uncle Thorin talking with Gandalf the Gray. That’s Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur,” he says, indicating the man you were talking to earlier as well as a Dwarf with dark hair and a very rotund Dwarf. “And Ori, Nori, and Dori,” he indicates the trio, one being the one who keeps insisting you are a witch and the other is busy gathering up clothing, probably for you and employing the help of another Dwarf that seems quite timid. “That’s Balin and Dwalin, they are two of uncle’s closest friends and advisors. “That’s Oin and Gloin,” he points to the doctor from earlier with the horn to his ear and the redhead from before. “And of course, Bilbo has already introduced himself.”

“Oh dear…” you say suddenly gazing about at everyone, “How many of you are there?”

“Oh, about 14, why?” questions Kili from your other side now. You have a feeling one brother is never too far from the other.

“That’s… a lot of names…” you say as you regard all the Dwarfs before you in slight confusion and resignation.

“You’ll learn them soon enough,” Fili says, patting your arm in sympathy. Probably understanding that to an outsider there are probably a lot of them.

You simply hum your agreement, even if you don’t necessarily believe it.

“My dear,” Gandalf says suddenly, “Perhaps you could join us for a moment?”

You glance up from the fire and nod before making your way towards Gandalf and Thorn? No… That’s not right…

“This is Thorin Oakenshield, and this is his company,” Gandalf says, indicating the Dwarf before you. Ah… Yes! Thorin…

“Nice to meet you,” you say politely as you regard both men, “And I am Gandalf the Gray. I was wondering if you could tell us what you are doing in the forest alone?”

“I don’t remember… I just woke up there yesterday evening.”

“Woke up where, my dear?”

“In the forest,” you say vaguely, gesturing the way you came.

“There didn’t happen to be… mushrooms… where you landed?” he asked hesitantly.

“Umm… actually yes… there were mushrooms. Why? Is that important?” you ask hungry for answers.

“It is something, it is yet to be seen if it is important yet though,” he says cryptically.

“Okay…” you say in confusion, “Well what now?”

“What do you mean?” He asks with a furrowed brow.

“Is there a town I can perhaps find help in close to here? I don’t know what to do really…”

“We should go to Rivendell!” exclaims Gandalf, “Elrond will know what is best.”

“And I’ve already said we are not going to Rivendell!” exclaims the Dwarf passionately.

You take a step back slightly startled by his outburst.

“We will find a suitable place for the lady, but we are not wasting time by going out of our way to those blasted Elves!” he then proceeds to swear in another language. How do you know it was a swear? Swearing is a universal language even if one doesn’t understand it.

“Uncle!” exclaims the dark-haired Dwarf from before, something with a ‘ly’ at the end, “Such language in front of a lady!”

Thorin just scowls and ignores the mischievous twinkle in his nephew’s eyes. You have a feeling he’s used to the young Dwarf’s antics.

“Kili! You and your brother make sure the lady is comfortable. I believe that Dori was getting her more suitable clothing?” he asks before eyeing your dress skeptically. You stand a little straighter at his scrutiny suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

“Yes, Uncle.”

He sends you a wink before he motions for you to follow him. The man with the intricate braids is holding out some clothes for you, “I know it isn’t much, but this should get you through until we can get more suitable clothing at the next town.”

“Oh! Thank you!” You exclaim before looking around for a tent.

“Come on now!” he says marching towards the woods, “I’ll make sure no one bothers you while you change.”

After you have changed you find yourself standing about while the Dwarfs tidy up their campsite and start on their way. You don’t really know what to do so you just watch and try to stay out of their way.

“Feel better then?” you jump at the voice behind you and turn to see one of the brothers behind you.

“Umm… yes… I do,” you say with a quiet nod and a timid smile. He beams back at you before he hands you a cloak to drape around your shoulders.

“It’s been rainy lately, you may need this.”

“Thank you,” you say, avoiding his eyes shyly as you stumble to fasten the cloak around your frame.

“Here, Milady,” he says, before he steps towards you and helps you to do the clasp.

You look down at the mismatched attire, a tunic that is far too broad in the shoulders and far too long, but also too short at the same time and a pair of pants that has far too much room in the leg and crotch area. The boots that were given to you are laced too tightly in order to stay on your feet and you wonder if the circulation will be cut off. You heave a sigh as Thorin yells that it’s time to move out. You fall in line with the others and instantly you can feel the boots rubbing your heels. This is going to be a long day…

You’re quiet most of the day despite the attempts of several of the Dwarfs to get you to open up. This seemed to dampen the spirit of the one with the funny hat, named… Bofur? You tried to recall the ones who had spoken to you most. The younger ones also seemed concerned with your absent minded answers to their questions.

“You must be in deep thought about something Lass…” you glance over at Bofur and regard him thoughtfully.

“Just trying to understand what happened is all… I’ve never done anything like that back there and I’ve never seen anything like those creatures… What even were they?”

“Trolls o’course!”

“So you don’t have Trolls where you come from either?” pipes up Kili from behind you, jogging to walk alongside you.

“No, I don’t think we had anything of the sort. At least not in real life.”

“What do you mean ‘real life?’” questions Fili glancing over his shoulder.

“Well they were in stories, but we didn’t have them in real life.”

“If ye had them in stories, how do you know they aren’t real?” questions Bofur wiggling his eyebrows.

And for the first time all day you laughed, “I once knew someone who said the same thing about dragons.”

“So there are dragons!?” questions Kili in horror.

“No, we don’t have those either,” you say matter of factly.

“But how do you know?” Questions Bofur once again with that mysterious twinkle in his eyes.

“Well aren’t they quite large? I think we would know by now! Do you have dragons here?”

“Aye, we’re on our way to reclaim our home from one,” Says Kili in excitement.

“Kili!” yells a voice from up ahead you recognize as the leader, “That is quite enough! If all it takes is a pretty face to send your head from your shoulders, I will send you back to your mother this instance.”

“Sorry uncle…” he says quietly thoroughly chastised.

You frown at the harsh way he spoke to him, but you suppose this is a secret quest? Who knows? But you could tell that Thorin didn’t seem to trust you along with a handful of the Dwarfs around you.

With the light hearted conversations effectively cut off you settle back into silence as you take in the scenery. It’s quite beautiful with lush foliage and tall trees. Bushes seem to be flowering and vaguely you wonder if these are the flowers of spring or summer.

“Why did your friend think there were dragons even if you don’t?” whispers Kili from your side.

You glance at him and notice the way that Fili and Bofur glance over at you as well, clearly interested in the question.

“Because they show up in legend and lore from all over the world, in cultures and times when they had no contact.”

“So you do have other races!” exclaims Kili in excitement, clearly pleased with his way of gaining knowledge.

“Yes, but not like here…” you say calmly, “We’re all human, there aren’t Elves or Dwarves.”

“Sounds odd,” Says Kili decidedly.

“No more odd than discovering Dwarves and Trolls when you previously thought there were none.”

“Aye, that must have been a right shock there!” Bofur interrupts.

“You have no idea… Although that wasn’t my first run in with this world…”

“Oh?” Questions Fili from his place in front of you, easily he falls back and takes the place by your side much to the displeasure of his brother, “What was?”

“Something I had never seen before… It was this large wolf-like thing…”

“Wolf-like thing?!” he asks in alarm, “A warg?”

“I wouldn’t know what a warg is…” you say, baffled by the term, “But perhaps?”

“How did ye live?! I doubt you woudda’ been able to outrun it!” exclaims Bofur from your other side.

“A witch!” exclaims a voice from ahead of you.

You frown and roll your eyes at the Dwarf a few paces up, “It impaled itself on a branch.”

“Really? How?” questions Kili in wonder from the other side of Fili.

“I don’t really know… I didn’t see it happen… I was too scared to look…” you say hesitantly not wanting to relive the evening's events.

“That sounds terrible,” Fili says patting your shoulder, “You must have been terrified.”

Something about the soothing way that Fili speaks makes you feel better, “I was…” you say looking away from him.

You spend the remainder of the morning answering questions from the Dwarfs and eventually, many others begin to join in. This is mostly how the morning goes, with you satisfying the curiosity of the younger Dwarves and the Hobbit when he finally gets the courage to linger in the back of the company with you. It did effectively distract you from the pain of your now blistered feet and the fatigue that came with walking all day when you weren’t used to it.

The sun is high in the sky, filtering through the leaves of the forest when a commotion in the brush alerts you to something coming your way… and quickly...

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Things are about to get wild soon... So drop a comment to tell me what you think!

#fili x reader #fili x y/n #fili x you #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #forgotten #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fili #reader insert #reader pov #lotr

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galaxyedging · 3 years ago

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Bloodsucking Beloved

Series Masterlist / Previous Chapter

Chapter 5

Warnings: blood, gore, violence, death, angst.

Max barged through the doors having followed her scent from the ER. The sight of her lifeless on the bed while medical staff fought to save her life brought him to his knees.

Some machinery beeped, others wailed in alarm. There was a mask on her face. Someone was shouting instructions. Numbers. Medications. A long single tone sounded. He heard the word 'clear'. Someone put their hand on his shoulder, told him he couldn't be there. Her body jerked. More hurried instructions. Her body jerked again. The voice told him to leave again. Her body jerked. The single tone continued. Murmurs and machines being switched off. The voice again. Not telling him to leave this time, saying 'I'm sorry.' Another voice, raw, pained, inhuman. His. "GET OUT NOW!" Receding footsteps and closing doors.

It took everything in him to stand. He made his way to her. Aside from the blood on her clothing she looked normal. Peacefully asleep. Gently, he scooped her up in his arms. "Baby? Baby, wake up. I need you to wake up ok? I need you. Please." he sobbed against her hair. It still smelled of coconut. It still smelled like her. She was still in his arms. She wasn't gone. She couldn't be gone. He should have turned her when he had the chance. Protected her. Before he realised what he was doing, he sunk his fangs into her neck. Her heart wasn't beating so he had to suck harder to drain her blood. He winced at the thought of hurting her as he did so. When he was done he turned his fangs on himself. Ripping his wrist open. His blood flowed freely, he pressed his wrist to her open mouth, dripping the dark liquid inside. "Come on baby, please. Please, open your eyes. Please. Please. Please." His pleas became more desperate as time went on. The lost of blood weaken him until he slumped on the floor, her lifeless form cradled in his lap. "Who's going to keep the plants alive? You know I suck at that." He stoked her hair as he spoke. "Who's going to steal my shirts? Who's going to wear the ring that I bought?" His tears started again. He rocked her in his lap as he sobbed.

Voices outside the door caught his attention. Security rushed in one of them aiming a taser at him. "Sir. I need you to put the body down." The body. She wasn't a body. She's the woman he loves. Rage boiled up inside him. Gently laying her down he jumped to his feed unnaturally fast. The guy to his left recoiled. The other one stood his ground, gripping taser tighter. "Sir, have you taken any illegal substances? We can help you, you just need to calm down and move away from the body." Calm down? He was talking about her like an object.

Max began to stalk towards him. "She's not a thing or an object. She's my...everything."

The guy clearly realised Max wasn't to be messed with as he shot him square in the chest with his taser. He pulled out the barbs and shrugged it off. The guys eyes widened with shock. Even more so when Max gripped his shirt, lifting him into the air. Max was ready to kill him. The guy's partner started to freak out, swearing and praying. Max would shut him up after he snapped this guys neck. There was no one left to stop him. He could kill anyone he wanted without worrying what the world thought of him because his world had ended. He brought his hand up to the petrified man's neck.

"Max. Stop." a voice rasped behind him. Max dropped the man in shock. He skittered away while Max turned to the voice. "Baby?" He asked.

You looked different, he couldn't put his finger on how. Thinking back to when he was turned he tried to remember if he looked different. He remember being shocked that he had a reflection. He later learned that it was only silver backed mirrors that don't show a vampire's reflection. Newer mirrors use aluminium. Silver and vampires don't mix well. That was fine with him, he wouldn't be caught undead wearing silver.

Slowly she took steps towards him. He put his hands out to reach for her. "That's it beautiful. I got you." he smiled. Just as his fingers were about to touch hers one of the guards radios crackled to life. "Check in."

With a screech she whirled, she was on the guy in seconds. His scream was torn from his neck by her fangs. Her hands crunched bone as she tried to stop him from struggling. Max was frozen in fear. She was on the other guy, fangs stripping the flesh from the arm he had thrown up in defence before Max could speak. "STOP!" he screamed. Turning to him, he saw her face for the first time. Her fangs were more like that of a wolf's. She looked paler, thinner somehow. She looked like death. "Hermosa, please. This isn't you."

Her eyes darted around the room. Snarling at him she ran. Crashing into him on the way, she sent him flying before before smashing through a window and running into the night.

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nice-kill-tanaka · 4 years ago

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May I have a my hero and ohshc matchup plz

I'm a short girl around 5'2 with long brown hair and eyes and a leo. I like anime,dragons,reptiles,drawing but I'm not good,tarantulas,sweets,video games, memes,dark humor. I am very kind but I care more about others than I do myself. I have bad anxiety. I tend to overthink about everything. I love to sing especially country music but I am tone deaf. I have trouble standing up for myself because I was bullied alot. I can be very blunt. I also love to swear. I can be very loud. I love a good mystery and cop shows. I love dad jokes and puns.I am terrified of bees and heights. I am very lazy but I can be good at doing stuff if motivated. I have a very kind heart and sad stories or ones with very happy endings make my heart happy or hurt like crazy. But even though I'm kind that doesn't mean i am nice all the time. I am extremely grumpy and have a short temper especially on no sleep or if I just woke up. I also do have adhd and some anxiety I dont like being touched randomly unless I know it will happen or if I touch someone. As for dreams I'm not sure I wanna be a voice actor but not too sure if its right for me as I don't know how to edit or even have the equipment. I want someone who can just listen to me as I ramble on about things I love. I want someone to understand that I think differently then normal people. I also want someone to be able to understand im not the most affectionate person but I can be if given time but I will help someone if they are touch starved like I am.

[🌄 @cutelittleriot requested one (1) regular My Hero Academia matchup. I have just the ingredients for that! Sit tight while I get to work.🌌]

YAYYY!! First bnha matchup!! I gotchu bud 👍 I’m thinking about trying something new for the bnha fandom in particular. So, I’ll try it out and see what you think! Also, I got a little carried away with this one, so if it doesn’t seem characteristically accurate to you, please tell me!! 😖

And, the lucky person is:

⛰Eijiro Kirishima⛰

Quirk: Dragon

Dragon is a mutation quirk. It manifests slowly over time, until the user becomes about 60% dragon-esque at around 15/16 years old.

Scales and tough skin appear on the arms, legs, and face. Sharp teeth and claws grow in. Horns protrude from the forehead. A tail grows from the spine. Finally, wings grow from the back.

Flesh becomes twice as tough in places where scales are.

Depending on the user’s body type, wing usage is limited. (Since you’re generally shorter than average, “flying” and gliding comes easier to you.)

When the user consumes pressurized carbon dioxide, their stomach converts it into flammable gasses. Which allows the user to breathe- er...burp...fire.

Fire must be carefully used however. The smoke produced can accidentally be breathed in, causing lung damage.

🌱Humble Beginnings🌱

I’ll start by saying this: Being bullied is never fun. Being bullied over something you can’t easily control or change? Rub salt in it, why don’tcha?

You weren’t sure what the select few kids in your grade thought was so hilarious about your quirk. But, they managed to find enough wrong with it to do their damage for most of your time in school

First, the patches of scales that showed up on your skin were “too weak”. Then, your awkward transition stage with growing horns, wings, and tail was suddenly “ugly”

By the time your quirk fully manifested, the jeers finally devolved to “freak-ish”

Like a river carving out the Grand Canyon, the work was slow and wore you down over time. But, the impact was a lot bigger than even you’d initially thought

While you managed to somewhat heal and learned to guard your emotions against such hurtful things, that’s all you learned to do: Guard yourself. You were a shield with no spear, since you never fought back

With the help of supportive parents and teachers, your self-esteem wasn’t so low, but you did often downplay or underestimate your abilities

Like, Bitch??? You can burp fire??? Know your power???

The people you were on good terms with seemed to see a potential that you either disregarded, or didn't know about all together

They saw the way you treated others with consideration and forethought. How, despite (or because of) your anxiety, you remained hyper-aware of the problems of others and how to accommodate. And while your anger did have its vices, people knew how hot your righteous rage could burn

It actually took a lot of convincing for you to even apply to U.A.

Outside of your other aspirations for the future, you didn’t particularly feel worthy for the job. Of anything you could be, you weren’t a fearless, upstanding, unshakable individual, not even giving a second thought to throwing yourself into danger for the good of others. You weren’t your alleged definition of a hero, and that was enough to deter you

But, whenever you recited your polite (well-rehearsed) decline, most gave you the same weirdly optimistic retort:

“Just try, maybe you’ll do better than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

So, here you were at an entrance exam full of people you hardly knew, wondering how you even rationalized to yourself that this would go just fine

The written exam went okay. As well as you could for literally guessing what to study to pass

All you had to do was do your best on the physical exam, and you’d be done for the day

But, your issue was in the people around you, not the exam itself

You were aware of the high amount of attention the moment you walked onto campus. The way other kids measured you up from a distance, studying everything about your not-so-human body. Watching your every move, especially the way your movements were strained from soreness (A short period of intense training tends to do that to you). You assumed they also wanted to see if your disposition was as powerful as your quirk suggested

((You specifically noticed a coltish, green-haired kid muttering to himself, questioning if your wings could actually support your body weight))

Even now, as the prospective heroes-in-training warmed up, you felt the stares burning into you

Half of you wanted to lift your eyes and rhetorically ask what the hell they were looking at, only feeling more annoyed as you snorted and returned to what you were doing. The other half wanted to fold into yourself until you disappeared (If only it were that easy)

But, you had enough (Roughly, one billion) worries on your mind to put confrontation on the list. Shaking off your anxious shivers as you lowered your head and continued with your “stretches” seemed so much easier

(A.k.a. Staring off into space as you held your limbs in awkward positions)

The time to begin the physical test was drawing near, and your self-doubt hadn’t eased up. Maybe this was a mistake. You didn’t belong here. Not when so many other students could fill the space you’re wasting so much better. Maybe if you slipped through the back now, you’d save yourself the disappointment of not living up to your own standards

“Hey, brown-haired girl! With the horns!”

You heard a gruff whisper from not to far behind you, from the left. You tensed for a moment, wondering what the voice could possibly want from you. But, the sight you saw was rather unexpected

The voice definitely matched the body, bulky and slightly rough looking, a little taller than you. Matched with a sweet face, sharp teeth, and bright, spiky, red hair. The smile he showed you instantly calmed your thoughts

“…Hm?”

You gave a short response, not wanting to jump to conclusions yet

“I saw you looking kinda psyched out over here, so I thought talking to you would make you less nervous!”

You felt a warm and fuzzy sensation in the pit of your stomach. As much encouragement as you got to achieve things, you didn’t see much of it to consider how you felt. How you could feel better. You liked it, which was surprising, considering the encouragement came from a perfect stranger

“Oh, uhh…thanks then. But, I’m fine, I promise! I’m no more nervous than you are.”

“Well, that’s also why I came to talk…I’m kinda freaking out too…”

This boy’s transparency was almost scary, but on the other hand, very comforting. You didn’t catch him trying to stare at your mutated parts once as you talked. Your eyes were the thing he seemed the most focused on, and while it made you embarrassed, it was the good kind (if that makes sense)

But, soon enough, the announcement for the beginning of the exam came over the loudspeaker, and you and your acquaintance had to look out for yourselves. But, before you parted ways, the redhead turned to you

“I’m Eijiro Kirishima, by the way! See you when I see you, Shortie!”

🌳Flourishing Love🌳

The beginning of Kirishima seeing you as a romantic option happened not too long after parting ways at the physical exam

He was almost completely cornered by one of the machines students could disarm for points. And just as that was happening, you had just turned the corner after shaking off another one

You saw Kirishima, but he definitely didn’t see you, trying hard to look tough, but struggling to stand his ground

It quickly dawned on you that Kirishima didn’t have a quirk that could easily deal with the hostile device. And if he did, he was too scared to use it

You vetoed the idea of charging in head on first. You didn’t feel like getting yourself or Kirishima hurt. Especially without a plan. You needed to be smart about getting your only acquaintance out of this situation

Your heart raced and your execution was all but clean, but you ended up using your fire breath to weld the robot’s wheels to the concrete

Before you let your inhibitions get the better of you, you climbed the machine and punched out the camera on the front. From atop the beast, you hung your tail over the edge low enough for Kirishima to grab. You didn’t dare look down at the ground

“Dammit Eijiro, grab on!!”

Once you felt a weight on your tail, you used your wings to propel you both forward. Obviously, away from the robot

You were too high on adrenaline and fear to notice, but Kirishima stared at you like you were the embodiment of Heaven on Earth. The stars in his eyes almost seemed inappropriate for the situation 😅

You looked just as—if not more—afraid than he was. But, you seemed so okay with the fact that you weren’t fearless, and acted like a true hero anyway. He admired, dare I say loved that about you

And he didn’t even know your name

As soon as you found out that you and Kirishima were in the same class, you felt instant relief. At least you were familiar with someone at U.A.

You guys’ friendship developed rather fast, like and extrovert adopting an introvert

Kirishima quickly noticed how fast you opened up once you got comfortable around him, and loved you all the more for how bright and vibrant the unfiltered you was

He found himself picking up on your sense of humor, telling dad jokes you whisper under your breath to the Bakusquad (Much to Bakugou’s dismay 😅)

Don’t worry, he always gives you the credit 😉

As time went on, Kirishima learned to appreciate how blunt you were. He realized that he needed someone to tell it like it is (“It isn’t manly to sugarcoat things! 😤” he says)

And while Kirishima prefers physical activities over video games, he loves to hype you up while you play before classes

It was only natural a mutual crush would form :D

Kirishima finally worked up the guts to ask you out after the U.S.J. Incident

You and him had gotten separated (You had gotten trapped with the cold son of Endeavor. And you both took out the villains with an awe-inspiring display of fire and ice)

Kirishima was faced with the reality that either of you could lose each other at any moment. And while both of you came out alright, he realized he couldn’t be wishy-washy about his feelings for you

He told you on your way to school the next morning:

“Look. What happened yesterday really scared me. Normally, I wouldn’t say that, but I think you deserve to know. Because…you mean a lot to me!! More than I can put into words. I love when we have fun together, and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I never got to tell you how I felt…”

“Basically…I like you!! Like…in the romantic way…”

Your early morning grumpiness dissipated almost instantly, replaced by momentary confusion and disbelief, then embarrassment and joy. Was this really happening…? The boy that took a chance on you since the beginning, confessed that he had feelings for you…? Even though you didn’t question your relationship, you always assumed the nice things Kirishima said, the way he looked at you, was all part of the pleasantries. You questioned if you were even worth all of that

‘But you are.’ The little voice Kirishima helped you develop said. ‘And he would say more if he didn’t look so embarrassed.’

And so, you accepted Kirishima’s confession. And he saw the sweetest smile you had ever given him since the first time he complimented your puns 😊❤️

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

[🌌 There you go bud! That’s one matchup for the road. Hopefully it lasts for a while, but if it doesn’t, feel free to come back! I’d be thrilled to see you again.🌄] —Reagan

#caravan commodities #special bindles #matchup #cutelittleriot.traveler #cutelittleriot.request #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha matchup #bnha matchup #back on the grind #😊#my other choices would’ve been Mirio or Sero

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elves-n-angels · 5 years ago

Text

How Sebastian Stan Went From Winter Soldier to 'Winter Swoldier'

To keep up with the Chrises, Stan upgraded his diet, training, and worldview. And 2020 is shaping up to be his best year ever.

BY LAUREN LARSON

DEC 19, 2019

THE COFFEE-SHOP staff is having a silent meltdown. The peppermint tea I ordered was forgotten as soon as Sebastian Stan walked in. He orders a coffee, receives it instantly, and goes to put it down on a table. The lid isn’t fully on, and the coffee spills. It’s almost a “stars are just like us” moment, but then a barista suddenly materializes with a paper towel in his outstretched palm. “It’s wet,” he says eagerly.

Stan, 37, is wearing black shorts, a black T-shirt, midcalf black socks, and a gray hoodie missing its drawstring. He looks very off-duty SoHo, which he is: He’s back home in New York City on furlough from preparations for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, an extravagant collaboration between Marvel and newborn streaming service Disney+.

He’s also wearing a blue baseball cap, which sits slightly higher on his head than it might on the head of someone with less va-va-voom hair. That hair sent the Internet into a tizzy recently, when a poster for Falcon showed Stan with a short cut. In the past when Stan has played the Winter Soldier (né Bucky Barnes), he’s had shoulder-length hair. Next to his forehead, which is giant—the White Cliffs of Dover of foreheads—the longer style made him look very sinister.

Stan is somewhat less recognizable in street clothes, but women still side-eye him on their way to the bathroom. Maybe they recognize him; maybe he’s just a little too strapping not to be famous.

As Stan talks, he maintains an unsettling deadpan, verging on a glower. “People always ask me if I’m okay,” he says, still glowering. “They’ve said I have ‘serial-killer resting face.’ No matter what I do, I’ve always had dark circles under my eyes that never really go away. Lately there might be a little moisturizer happening here and there, just in case. Preserving a couple years, or whatever.”

The more reserved the actor, the more likely he is to become part of Hollywood mythology. Between Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) and Captain America: Civil War (2016), a rumor circulated that he had gotten too ripped for the arm he’d worn in the earlier film, a wraparound contraption meant to look like a machine prosthetic. Redditors called him “the Winter Swoldier” and “Bulky Barnes.”

Stan laughs when I bring it up and clarifies that he used a new-and-improved arm in each successive film. With the first iteration, he had to apply lube to slide his real arm into what was essentially two rigid metal tubes. “It was like having a massive hammer attached to me,” he says, “but it looked unbelievable in the movie, and it actually informed a lot of my body language.”

Subsequent arms were more mobile, and Stan doesn’t have to lube up to get in there anymore: There’s a sleeve inside the arm for his next appearance as the Winter Soldier. But, he concedes, he did get too big for the arm used in Civil War. “I was so insecure being around these massive fucking guys, so I started lifting really heavy and ate a lot. I remember I showed up, and I was a little bit bigger than I had been in The Winter Soldier. The arm was a bit tight,” he says. “I was losing circulation.”

Stan is not a new arrival in the Marvel universe: He made his superhero debut in 2011, with Captain America: The First Avenger. But recently he’s enjoyed a burgeoning late-term fandom as his roles (and arms) have ballooned. Beyond Marvel, he starred alongside Margot Robbie in 2017’s I, Tonya, as Tonya Harding’s jackass boyfriend. When we meet in October, he’s just returned from shooting the spy film 355 in London, with Jessica Chastain, Penélope Cruz, Lupita Nyong’o, and Diane Kruger. Another insecurity-inspiring roster.

With Stan’s constellation of anxieties—he says he’s “terribly self-aware, to the point of detriment”—he is uniquely suited to stardom in 2020. A decade ago, audiences wanted actors to be pillars of Hollywood hubris, strutting around in latex Marvel suits, muscly and impenetrable. We still want the muscles, but we also want stars to be genuine.

Marvel films can seem at odds with that national craving for authenticity. Steve Rogers, for example, becomes Captain America instantly, in the first ten minutes of The First Avenger: He goes into a machine and emerges fit, huge, and self-actualized. I ask Stan whether that narrative—man gets muscles and immediately earns the admiration and attraction of everyone in his midst—isn’t a dated, unrelatable picture of masculinity.

“When I was watching Steve Rogers,” Stan starts in, “I saw him question his identity, his alliances, the government. ‘Who am I? What is this? What made me come into this is very different than the role I am in now.’ I think it was very timely, in the sense that you could see that character evolve. Then he gives up his shield and is like, ‘I’m out. I’m going to do my own thing.’ He chooses his own life. It’s actually more relatable.”

There’s an obvious metaphor there: Stan is Captain America, and stardom—and the press tours, the scrutiny, and the training that come with it—is his government, always invading his carefully fortified sense of self. As a result, he can appear very reticent in public, offering only occasional glimpses of the unguarded Sebastian Stan. Audiences live for those moments.

Stan is the anti-celebrity in the year of the anti-celebrity.

And his ambient hostility toward questioning is offset by the behavior of his Falcon costar Anthony Mackie. When alone in interviews, Stan can seem deflective and bored, but he gets an enormous kick out of Mackie, who has jumped in to rescue many an interviewer left to writhe on the hook by Stan. He is the Sebastian Stan whisperer, midwife to a charm that can be difficult to coax out.

“When I’m trying hard to find the honest moment, he sort of unlocks me a little bit. We both laugh and we find a way to have a good time,” Stan says. When I tell him that I’m planning to mine Mackie for gossip, he laughs. “Here’s what he’s going to say: ‘He’s way too serious. It’s boring. He slows everything down. It’s always these questions and, like, the stare. Give this kid a Yoo-hoo! Somebody get him a chocolate milk. Good God, put a smile on his face!’ ”

Mackie is the enthusiastic extrovert to Stan’s pensive recluse. Even though I reach him on the phone at 9:00 p.m. after a long day of shooting in Savannah—“I’m already going to bed,” Mackie says in a N’awlins drawl that sounds sleepier than usual—he’s forthcoming about Stan. He describes his costar as a hermit, a chronic Irish-goodbye-er who doesn’t offer much of himself at first. “If the FBI ever needed to get anything out of him, they’d be in very big trouble,” Mackie says. “I don’t know what the male equivalent would be of ‘resting bitch face,’ but Sebastian has nailed that 100 percent.”

His first impression, which lingered for a long time, was that Stan was a very quiet, very reserved actor. They shook hands when they met, but it wasn’t a buddy-com bromance at first sight. It wasn’t until much later, when the two were on a press tour for The Winter Soldier, that they hit it off. Mackie hung out with Stan and a few of his closest friends, and they “unlocked” Stan for Mackie the same way Mackie now unlocks Stan on press tours.

Their chemistry also plays well on set. They share a dedication to their work, and they both come from classical acting backgrounds. (“He went to Juilliard,” Stan says of Mackie. “He can do anything.”) Beyond that, they’re opposites, reining in each other’s moods to a perfect, workable middle. “He calms me down when I’m ready to rage against the machine,” Mackie says. In turn, Mackie bullies Stan into having fun.

Case in point: When they were on a press tour in Beijing, they had one of those endless nights that make press tours seem glamorous. “It just went on and on and on,” Mackie recalls. “We had to do press the next morning, and he’s like, ‘I’m going to bed.’ I’m like, ‘Nope.’ I took his wallet and his cell phone so he couldn’t get into his hotel room. Then, by the time we got to the press, I was fine. He just looked like he’d gotten hit by a car.”

Hollywood has always relished actor partnerships—from Robert Redford and Paul Newman to Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson—but now more than ever, buddying up feels like an imperative. Pairs perform, especially on social media. In November, when Stan and Mackie took over Marvel Studios’ Instagram to announce that they’d begun filming Falcon, fans were as thirsty for their friendship as they were for the show. Their dynamic is the stuff of memes: “[I] want someone to look at me the way Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie look at each other,” one fan tweeted.

I know what that fan meant. When Stan does look at you without suspicion—when, perchance, he laughs at something you say—it’s like winning a battle.

WHEN IT COMES to fitness, Stan has also benefited from the influence of a charismatic spirit guide. He played soccer and basketball at his Rockland County, New York, high school, but he didn’t start running and going to the gym until he was in college at Rutgers University. And he didn’t get really into fitness until 2005, when he was cast in a film titled The Covenant, which Stan calls “really classic.”

Really classic, indeed: The Covenant also stars Chace Crawford, whom Stan would later join on Gossip Girl (another classic), and Taylor Kitsch. Stan plays one of five prep-school boys endowed with supernatural gifts and sick abs.

“I got a call,” Stan says. “And one of the producers said to me, ‘Look, you’re going to have to look like John Travolta in Staying Alive.’ He’s just glistening with muscles. It’s ridiculous. I was like, ‘Oh my God.’ I started to work out with a trainer, but it was my buddy

Taylor Kitsch who got me into it.” With the trainer and Kitsch as his gym shepherds, Stan began exercising in earnest.

Then, in 2013, ahead of The Winter Soldier, Stan teamed up with trainer Don Saladino, who’d also sculpted Ryan Reynolds, John Krasinski, and Liev Schreiber. That same year, Stan starred in a Broadway revival of William Inge’s Picnic, playing a character whose defining trait is his hotness.

“Inge was writing something very important about vanity and how people were perceived in terms of being quote-unquote good-looking, beautiful, or pretty,” Stan said in a Playbill interview in 2013. “In the play, there’s something shameful and dirty about it. Our obsession with beauty has not changed. When we see something that turns us on, we either appreciate it or judge it. It’s so primal. We still dismiss people if they’re pretty; we don’t care how they feel, because they should just be happy looking the way they do. That’s something we were trying to say with this production.” Stan is less philosophical about his Picnic bod these days. “I had to be basically shirtless every night, like eight shows a week,” he says. “I really zoned in on diet, and everything transformed.”

He prefers exercising on an empty stomach, so he generally starts his day with coffee—and a rice cake with some almond butter and honey if he’s feeling depleted. Today he was feeling very depleted, he says, so he had some scrambled eggs with Brussels sprouts and aioli. “I’m not going to tell you the place where I got that,” he adds, unprompted and wary, as though I might start dining there daily in a stalker vigil.

Stan is a proponent of “quality over quantity,” but that doesn’t mean he skimps on his workouts; he just knows that a 20-minute session that catapults his heart rate into the red zone is as effective as an hour of low-intensity bullshit. He runs (“I’m not going to tell you where”) when he’s feeling meditative.

In advance of the Falcon shoot, Stan started lifting weights every morning and knocking out stunt training for the fight scenes. He points out that filming an action movie is a workout in itself: You spend whole days running around and sweating in a heavy suit. “I mean, next to Evans and Hemsworth and all those guys, I feel like I’m 50 miles behind. I don’t think I can get to that size, to be honest,” he says. That aside, Stan feels, in his late 30s, better than ever. “My body right now is probably the best it’s ever been.”

THERE'S A PHOTO of Stan, age 15, on his Instagram. It’s a headshot from Stagedoor Manor, an acting camp that he attended while in high school. He’s recognizable from the brow up—he has the same broad forehead, the same voluminous hair. His arms look pale and soft, like overcooked linguine, and he’s staring down the camera with theater-kid intensity.

Stan lived in Romania until he was eight years old. Shortly after the Romanian revolution, he and his mother moved to Vienna and stayed there for four years before heading to New York in 1995. No, he says, he didn’t have a foreign exchange student’s social cachet in middle school. “Maybe if I was from France or something. But I am Eastern European. We left communism,” he says. “When I came here, I just wanted to be like everybody else.”

I ask Stan which of his mannerisms are typically Romanian. “You’re kind of putting me on the spot to define a whole nation—a guy who hasn’t been there for years,” he says. But he thinks for a second. “For me, based on my mother, the ‘Romanian temperament’ is perseverance—being able to handle more than you think you can. At 27, my mother was working two jobs in a foreign country where she barely spoke the language. There’s a sense of family and perseverance that’s deeply ingrained in the blood.”

Even for someone who has experienced a certain degree of stardom, Marvel fans can be a shock to one’s sense of family. Certain Marvel stars acquiesce to the attention on some level, greeting fans with a Chris Hemsworthian openness to scrutiny. Stan’s boundaries are reflexive and firm, as though his sense of self is always under attack. (Which, to be fair, it may well be: “He’s so reserved,” Mackie says, “but in this day and age that’s a very good quality.”)

Stan is more protective of his personal life than most actors. Celebrities often use social media to dispense calculated chunks of themselves in exchange for privacy. Stan occasionally opens up on Instagram: “Been working with this guy through years of self judgement and mental wars when it comes to fitness and LIFE,” he wrote of Saladino in a caption accompanying a gym selfie. But questions about the people in his orbit ping ineffectually against his poker face.

He attributes this to only-vaguely-alluded-to incidents in which his family and friends were subject to public attention. As a public figure, he has opted into that attention, he explains, but they haven’t. It upset him when they were the targets of scrutiny, particularly when that scrutiny came from his fans. Stan seems to be looking for earnestness in an industry that, on the whole, disdains earnestness. He “tries hard to find the honest moment,” as he himself puts it (much like how he saw a profound statement about “our obsession with beauty” in William Inge’s horny play).

In this, the Marvel universe is an improbably good fit for him. We speak the week after Martin Scorsese said Marvel films “are not cinema,” and Stan is as defensive of the films as he can be without disrespecting Scorsese, one of his heroes. “All I know is that all movies affect people,” he says. “I’ve certainly experienced firsthand many people who have been affected and helped by Marvel movies.”

Captain America fans lean earnest. People have told Stan that Bucky Barnes helped them cope with their PTSD. During Q&A sessions, he’s asked questions like “What would Bucky Barnes’s major be?” and “What happened to Bucky Barnes when he fell from the train?” Stan fields those questions without sarcasm or diversion.

“They think we are these people,” Stan says, again without condescension. He’s content to take questions about Bucky Barnes, especially if it distracts fans from asking questions about Sebastian Stan. “Now we’re much more obsessed with the personality rather than the actor. We take people and swallow them and digest them and chew them up, and then we spit them out the other side. Then we’re done,” he says. “We’ve done that with numerous celebrities—people. I’ve seen people have massive ups and downs and stuff. All I can do is just try to be as honest as I can. And do my job.”

Men's Health Magazine, December 19, 2019.

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #winter soldier #mens health #long post

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nakedmossy · 5 years ago

Text

Alone, Together - Chapter 5 [JJ x Reader]

JJ x Reader

Description: JJ is not the only pogue on the cut who deals with abuse at home. Reader is an only child who lives with her mom and her abusive stepdad, has a strong relationship with JJ because they share the same home life. Reader experiences physical abuse for the first time, which changes her relationship with JJ irrevocably.

Chapter Summary: Shoupe escorts you to the hospital where you are confronted with your step dad and the reality of your moms situation

Disclaimers: Mentions of physical abuse, swearing, alcohol.

Notes: *sorry in advance* this is a bit shit and shorter than usual but I’m LITERALLY trying to work my day job and write at the same time so *d o n t h 8 m e* love y’all

_________________________________________________________

You blinked rapidly at Shoupe a few times before registering what he had said and felt your breath increase.

“My m-m-mom?” You stuttered, looking at him and squinting. “What about my mom?”

You tried to take a step toward him but you couldn’t move your legs, so you swayed in place until you felt Kie and Sarah standing behind you, their hands on your back and arm respectively.

“What’s going on Shoupe?” Sarah said in her sweet-as-pie but serious voice.

You couldn’t slow your breathing down, you stared at him intently but didn’t see him, momentarily all you could see was the last time you had seen your mom, pushing her away and not hugging her back in the parking lot of the boneyard last night when she and your stepdad had come to take you back home.

“She’s in the hospital, kid. I think you should come with us.”

“What...” you sputtered, feeling your legs shake. “What happened?”

“She was in a car accident. It doesn’t look too good.”

You didn’t think or breath or speak, you simply walked forward and scrambled up onto the edge of the boat, holding onto Shoupe’s hand for help over the side and into their police cruiser. You could barely hear what was going on around you over the ringing in your ears, but you thought you heard John B say they would follow you and meet you there. You hadn’t even registered JJ following you over the edge of the boat or sitting down beside you until he grabbed your hand and held it firmly, both of you sitting side by side in front of Shoupe who was now guiding the boat from the helm, back in the direction of shore.

Your vision had tunnelled and you stared at a spot on the floor of the boat, hearing a buzz of JJ and Shoupe speaking but not registering words.

You left her. You had left her there every time and ran away. Ran away to the Chateau, ran away to Kie’s house, ran away with JJ, you always left. It never registered until right now that every time you left you were leaving her. In your mind you were always just getting away from him.

You started shaking, from shock and from the cold spray of sea water every time you hit a wave. JJ squeezed your hand tighter and stayed firm beside you.

All you could picture was watching her get out of the passenger side and watching your drunk stepdad get out of the drivers side. It wouldn’t have been the first time he drove under the influence but...why did you let them go? Why did you let her leave with him?

“Why did I leave her” You mumbled, still staring at the floor of the boat, seeing nothing. “I shouldn’t have left her” You half spoke to yourself, half to JJ now, who had leaned his head down to look at you and hear you better. You dragged your eyes up to him now, expressionless and cold. “I left her JJ...I just...left her with him.”

JJ began to shake his head to say something but you looked back at the floor and closed your eyes. It didn’t matter what he said or how he would try to convince you this wasn’t your fault, it was. You left. End of story. You felt JJ’s hand on the good side of your face, begging you to look at him, but you couldn’t. You just sat there, numb, and felt your body rock with the motion of the boat on the waves.

What felt like many hours later you finally arrived at the hospital, the car ride from the docks to the ER entrance had been quiet, only when you pulled up to the doors did Shoupe turn to look behind him and face you, letting you know that your stepdad might be inside. JJ hadn’t let go of your hand the whole time, and squeezed it to the point it hurt when Shoupe had mentioned that.

You walked inside blindly, straight to the check in desk and saying your moms name, following a Nurse down a hallway, followed by Shoupe and JJ close behind you. You froze at the door when you saw your mom’s body limp in the bed, hooked up to multiple machines. Your stepdad was slumped in a chair by the foot of the bed, his back to you.

Your mouth went dry and you couldn’t swallow, your hand absentmindedly went to your rib cage to protect it.

Shoupe cleared his throat, signalling your arrival, causing your stepdad to sit up and look over his shoulder. When he saw you, his expression went from bored to concerned. Fake concern, he was a sociopathic compulsive liar unable to feel compassionate or pain for other people. Your skin crawled at the sight of him.

“Baby girl” he said in his southern Texas drawl, standing up. Not a scratch on him aside from a bandage on his fist. You instinctively backed up into JJ’s chest and jumped when you felt him. He put a hand on your arm and the other on your hip, holding you steady. You couldn’t speak or do anything but stare at him, tears forming in your eyes. Shoupe, noticing your reaction, stepped forward and took a second to lock eyes with JJ, warning him to stay put, before asking your stepdad if he could speak with him in the hall. Your step dad obliged, of course Officer, and walking past you, laying his hand briefly on your shoulder as he did. You flinched and shrugged it off, disgusted.

You felt JJ tense and say “don't touch her” under his breath from behind you. As soon as he was out of the room you moved forward slowly, walking towards the head of your moms bed. She had a bandage across the side of her forehead, but aside from some bruising you couldn’t see anything else.

“Mom” You breathed out, standing next to where her arm rested on the bed.

She was unresponsive, her eyes closed, a tube in her mouth. You looked over to JJ who was looking down at her as well and felt yourself melting. Your entire world was crumbling around you.

JJ moved to the foot of the bed and pulled the chart out of its holder, scanning over it quickly and flipping the page to read the next side. His eyebrows went up and he put the chart back, running a hand over his face before walking over to stand beside you. You waited for him to speak, still watching your mom, slipping your hand into hers now.

“Internal bleeding...something about her lung being punctured, and um...” He trailed off and didn’t speak until you looked up at him. “Head injury” He said quietly, shifting his weight to his other foot.

“Like brain damage?” You struggled to get the words out.

JJ lifted his shoulders lightly, shaking his head softly. “It didn’t say, well it didn’t say anything I understood.”

“Car accident” You said quietly, looking back down at your mom. Seeing her like this was too much. She was the kindest woman, however much she liked to drink or smoke or pretend she was rough around the edges. At her core, she was kind. Rage started to bubble up inside of you.

You took a deep breath and took your hand out of hers, turning to face the window to the hallway where you could see Shoupe and your step dad still talking. Before you could register what you were doing you were walking briskly out of the room and through the door, rounding the corner towards your step dad and shouting.

Shoupe turned and immediately put his arm out to block your stepdad, his other hand on his gun belt.

You were screaming mindlessly, about what a piece of shit he was, about how it was his fault your mom was in here, about how much you hated him, and felt yourself collide with Shoupe’s arm when you tried to reach your stepdad, your ribs banging into his arm as he pushed you back, away from your step dad who backed up with his hands up, was he...smiling?

Then you felt a second pair of arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you back from Shoupe, fastening you to his chest. JJ. You struggled against him, blind with rage, tears cascading down your face. You felt JJ’s face against yours, he was speaking as calmly as he could.

“Easy. Calm down, Y/N. You’re okay. It’s okay, calm down.”

You could barely hear him, you were still shouting, kicking, flailing helplessly. You kicked your legs up in the air in an attempt to shake JJ off of you, you wanted to kill your stepdad. Your ribs were in so much pain and your adrenaline was so high that you felt your head start to feel light and your stomach twisting.

Dizzy, you stopped shouting long enough to catch your breath and felt yourself weakening, collapsing in JJ’s arms. He was still murmuring into your ear to calm down, that he had you, that you were okay, when you looked up and blinked through your tears to see John B, Sarah, Pope and Kie standing down the hall from you.

Kie had her hands over her mouth stifling her tears, while Pope stood still, staring wide eyed. Sarah was cradling her face with her hands and crying while John B had his hands on top of his head, breathing heavily.

You broke completely when you saw your friends, your body exhausted and in pain. The cut on your cheek bone must have split open in the commotion because you could feel the blood running down your face, and stinging from the tears. You hiccuped and gasped for breath, still sobbing, JJ holding your back tightly against his chest and hips, his arms completely wrapped around you and his head pressed into your neck and shoulder.

“Leave, LEAVE” You heard Shoupe shouting next to you. You looked over and saw him with his finger in your stepdads face, pointing at the door to the hallway. “Get out of here, Brian”

Your stepdad sucked his cheeks in and made a pouty mouth, winking at you, before turning around and walking out of the hospital. You felt yourself exhale and start to get your breath back as John B and Kie rushed forward, Sarah and Pope close behind.

“Come on” You heard JJ speak to them when they were all near. “Let’s go sit down.”

Many hours later, after speaking with multiple doctors and police officers, you had passed the official business off to Kie and Sarah because you were having trouble concentrating and understanding them. You were seated in the chair in your moms room watching her, thinking about what the head surgeon had said. Official diagnosis had been a fractured rib which had punctured her lung, internal bleeding caused by damage to her kidney and liver, and brain trauma which they were still monitoring and taking scans of, but could not be certain the extent of yet. The pogues were seated in the waiting room, but JJ had stayed by your side and was now sitting on the seat under the window, his head against the wall, sleeping.

You shifted in your seat and moved to stand up, trying not to make too much noise or wake JJ up. It was dark out, you checked the clock on the wall over the door. 3 am? You had been sitting there longer than you thought. When you walked out into the hallway towards the sitting room, you noticed that the only one not sleeping was Pope. He had his hands pressed together like he was praying, and was staring at the wall. His eyes flitted to you when you moved, and he shot out of his seat to walk to you.

“Hey Pope” You said quietly, standing next to the vending machine and leaning against the wall. The dim light overhead flickered in the dark hallway.

“Hey. How are you doing? Do you need anything? Is your mom awake?” Pope was talking quietly but at a million miles a minute, his eyes flitting around your face anxiously.

You shook your head and put your hand out to calm him.

“I’m good, Pope. And no, she’s not. I just wanted to see how you guys were.”

“Us? Oh god, no we’re fine” He looked back at the group over his shoulder and looked back at you with an annoyed expression. “I mean apparently none of them have pulled an all nighter in awhile but- I, I’m good”

You smiled painfully at him and chewed on your lip.

“I’m just gonna use the washroom...ill be right back.” Pope nodded and started to walk after you until you stopped and raised your eyebrows comedically at him.

“I’m just going pee, Pope. I’m good”

“Right, sorry” He said and walked back a few steps then awkwardly waved and whispered loudly “Ill be right here”, pointing at his feet.

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle and wave back before walking around the corner and towards the bathroom door. As you were about to turn the handle you noticed a light coming from the far end of the hall, a bright red Exit sign illuminating the double doors.

You caught your breath and paused momentarily, looking back around the corner quickly and seeing Pope standing where you had left him, but he was looking longingly at the vending machine and rifling through his pockets for change.

You spun around quickly and started walking briskly down the hall towards the exit sign, knowing exactly what you needed to do, and knowing you needed to do it alone.

You took off for home, where you knew your stepdad would be waiting.

————————————

Tag List: @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch, @alexa-playafricabytoto, @timotaychalabae, @racerparker, @jj-maybank-stan, @anahgiedd

#jj x reader #jj maybank #jj outer banks #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx #rudy pankow #nakedmossywrites

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unseeliefaelass · 4 years ago

Text

Darksiders: Origins

Chapter 3: Names and Heirarchy

Ale remained watchful of the infant from then on. She continued her work with the other embryos now infants themselves as well. With this one however, she felt a strong connection to. Which may have been strengthened by the infant's constant need for attention and help. Nothing Ale didn't know about infants to be sure. Yet she still felt the bond all the same. Ale noticed the infant would have trouble staying in his sleep state alongside the others. During which time, Ale would bring him back out to lull the little one back into sleep. Whilst the machine connected to the pods did provide the appropriate nutrients for them, the infant began refusing it. Absalom noticed this first and asked Ale to fix the problem. No matter what though, the child refused to take to the vines that worked as hollow tubes for his food. Eventually Ale took another risk and started bringing him out more often. Giving the little one a bottle whilst holding him gently. Whilst this did slow his progress when compared to the other infants, there was little choice in Ale's mind. Lilith heard of each moment from Absalom naturally, leading to her jealousy manifesting more. Llildan tried his best to distract her of course, but warned Ale to not pull out the child so frequently. Ale couldn't stop in her mind, so she attempted to quell Lilith's rage against her by inquiring about names for them.

Lilith growled quietly in response before turning her head in exacerbation, "I've little time for such things. However as someone refuses to do her job as expected; it seems I've got no choice now. For now, leave the room. You will only come back when I ask for you. Absalom and I will handle the naming ourselves."

"But if the little one gets hungry he won't eat from the vines. I need to keep an eye on him if he's to make it." Ale protested.

Lilith's familiar twisted grin appeared, "I am his Mother. Therefore, I will handle it as I see fit. Be lucky I need you alive for my childrens' sake."

Ale backed down at this, but still worried herself sick over the child's fate. Llildan tried to keep her at ease, and ultimately began to regret his choice to ask for her help. Meanwhile Lilith and Absalom observed the children around them. She then gave Absalom reign over naming the males, whilst she named the females. Believing herself more qualified to name the female children. Absalom was annoyed at this, but did his task all the same. There was more girls than boys, which made sense to Absalom. He himself was male, so six girls versus five males was a perfect ratio.

He went on to the biggest ones first, "For the largest one here, Urias. The leaner one next to him shall be Methuselah."

Lilith in the meantime spotted a particularly beautiful little girl among the females. Thinking nothing of it, she took the little baby out of her pod to examine her beauty more. Just then the child opened her eyes, revealing a brilliant deep blue color. Within that deep blue, were specs of pale gold with a white limbal ring around her iris. Creating a truly stunning glow around the area. Her name was easy to think up from there, "Lazuli, no other name fits such a beauty. I can scarcely wait to see her fully grown." She then returned Lazuli to her pod with little thought to the child's cries. However it began to annoy her somewhat, so before closing the pod Lilith began her own lullaby. If one could even call it such, with how aggressive she sounded.

"Envy of the angels, beauty above demons,

hush now and return to rest in silence.

One day when you're grown and ready,

you will aid me in complete compliance.

You needn't empty those deep blue oceans,

with such wasteful tears and cries.

Such energy is better saved and used,

for a later time when our fires blaze the skies.

Envy of the angels, beauty above demons,

rest and dream of screaming demon tyrants.

One day when you're grown and ready,

your voice and battle cries should rival sirens.

Close up those deep blue gems within,

quiet down for your cries I gave no license.

some day you and the others will be ready,

and go through creation in righteous violence."

Surprisingly, the child did quiet down and sleep. Though Absalom guessed in his head that she'd likely not stay asleep long. Lilith noted his skeptical look and chided him, "Now now my child, you know what's to come. It seems there's much left to teach you yet. For now though, we have work to continue."

Absalom simply nodded, and went back to naming the rest of the boys, "Only three left, and two of them look...pretty close. Not even in the same pod and already trying to reach each other. Hmm, Cedron and Hebron will be your names then. Which leaves this tiny little thing here. You really should be bigger though, hopefully you'll catch up in time. Maybe having a name will help, so I'll think a bit harder on this one."

As Absalom did so, Lilith simply finished naming the other girls. Using their eyes to determine it as she took each child out to see them. Placing them all on a cushioned table next to each other. Like their 'sister' Lazuli, each one had gemstone like colors to their eyes. Lazuli was just the only one 'blessed' with more than one color in her eyes.

Lilith sighed at this, "Disappointing, but at least my new favorite daughter can be another leader. All in due time as some might say. Now then let us see..."

She observed the eyes of each girl vigorously. The first one in line from the left had eyes of jade in color, and seemed normal enough to Lilith. This one Lilith named Jadeite, as Jade would be too obvious she thought. That and jadeite was a category of the light green jade anyway; which Lilith felt was accurate to this child. The second one next to her ended up having rose quartz colored eyes, but acted off. Lilith noticed how she seemed to not see when she waved her hand above the little one's head. Lilith could only assume from there that this was blindness, and clicked her tongue in annoyance. The child reacted to it though, and reached out towards her general direction. Lilith glanced around her and toward a thinking Absalom before clicking a few more times in a rhythm. She grinned again as the child finally seemed to figure out where she was. Lilith thus rewarded her with being held a bit longer and chose her name as being Sio. Which was similar to the chemical formula of Rose Quartz, SiO₂. Lilith did do enough tinkering with science to know this much at least. The third girl had black eyes with barely any glow to them at all. What hair she currently had matched her eyes with the same dullness. Lilith barely acknowledged this one from there, but did remember to name her. Thus the child was swiftly named Onyx with little thought put in at all. The fourth child had white opalescent eyes, and a surprisingly lively attitude. That part annoyed Lilith a tad, so she didn't think much else of her. At least the child had lovely eyes, and would hopefully be more beautiful later on as well. Lilith named this one Opal and moved on from there. Finally there was the final 'daughter' to name. Her eyes were completely pale gold, alongside her small bits of hair. Despite reminding her of Onyx, at least she had some glowing going on. This pleased Lilith enough to at least indulge the child's neediness. Tickling the little one with a manicured, yet still clawed finger. While doing so, she named her Pyrite as her eyes and hair weren't a true gold. Lilith then returned everyone to their pods, and left Absalom to name the final male child.

Absalom finally indeed chose a name to the runt of children. Scooping him up once he's sure Lilith isn't watching, "Menahem, this shall be your name."

As he kept holding Menahem, Ale surprised him, "Absalom."

"Hrah! Oh it's you Ale. I've just named him, the runt I mean."

"He won't stay a runt, not if I have a say in it. Though I'd like to hear the name you've picked out." Ale expressed to him.

"His name is Menahem."

Ale smiled warmly, "You know, I think it sounds good for him."

Absalom then handed Menahem off to Ale, knowing she could get him back to sleep easily enough. Naturally she sang her lullaby as per usual to him,

"Mi Atan les daw aud bea a pere,

bea cale aud finst yesh slep's resehn.

Lek ga o yesh freyrs, pangs, aud ma,

thare's ne rez fo an hersh tha's sa.

Bea stor ni thet darnes o nicht,

sas thet liteh o das tist nule farse hinde.

Beaca alle sei desir ni drems,

ferar sae nit thet worl o yesh minde.

Freyr nule thos no thet touside,

fo ere wit mi sei're sae niside.

Fet nule oer troubs ro nemads,

tings alwas gein bette ni darnes.

Bea stor ni thet darnes o nicht,

sas thet liteh o das tist nule farse hinde.

Beaca alle sei desir ni drems,

ferar sae nit thet worl o yesh minde.

Bea stor ni thet darnes o nicht,

sas thet liteh o das tist nule farse hinde.

Beaca alle sei desir ni drems,

ferar sae nit thet worl o yesh minde.

Mi Atan les daw aud bea a pere,

bea cale aud finst yesh slep's resehn."

#Darksiders: Origins #Darksiders Fandom #Darksiders Fanfics #Lilith #Absalom #Little Death #Death With A Different Name

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harrysgloves · 4 years ago

Text

Line Fine (Chapter 8)

>>>Catch up with the Fine Line Masterlist!

word count: 1.9k

story summary: Since you were kids you and Harry had always walked that fine line of friends or something more. Now, pregnant by someone else, you find yourself staying with your long time best friend after things go sour with your boyfriend of 3 years.

Singlemom!Reader x Harry Styles

chapter summary: You meet a new friend when Harry’s late to your appointment.

warnings: Language

a/n: Now that I got ‘In The Middle’ out of my head and published, it’s back to our regularly scheduled programming. Yes, I know I’m not funny...

>>><<<

You sat nervously in the doctor's office waiting room. Yes, you had been here a million times before for gynecologist appointments but never for obstetrics. The whole place seemed different now that you sat on the other side of the waiting room.

Your hands ran down your pants as your feet bounced up and down on the floor. Harry should have been here already. Your hands fumbled around for the phone in your purse. Pulling it out to check your messages again. No new notifications. No new messages. Nothing.

You knew he hated doctors offices but he promised you that morning he'd be there before running out the door to meet Mitch for something he said was important for the upcoming album. Your appointment wasn't until the afternoon so you didn't think anything about it. Figuring he'd be back way before you had to leave. When he wasn't, he called to tell you he'd meet you there.

Now, here you were absolutely alone. Sitting in a cold waiting room waiting for your best friend because your baby daddy couldn't be bothered to answer his fucking phone for almost 3 weeks. Rings of children crying beside you made your anxiety spike. The pediatrician section of the waiting room directly beside the obstetric side.

You silently cursed the fucker who came up with this layout. Obviously they'd assume every pregnant person would be comfortable hearing and watching little kids run around. You weren't that person. No you were absolutely petrified.

"First kid?" The guy beside you asked as he bounced the baby he was holding on his lap. Your head snapping to him as your anxiety raged through your mind.

"’S that noticeable?" You asked, your legs tapping faster on the floor as you stared a hole in the wall opposite of you.

Your eyes moving back to him when he let out a laugh. Your eyes racking over him.

He was cute. His dark hair piled in soft curls on top of his head. Light eyes that only had a slight trace of dark circles underneath of them.

No ring on his hand.

You smiled easily, sitting back in your seat. If Harry was going to be late the least you could do was chat up this guy.

"I'm Matt and this," he said as he leaned down to his baby's level, "this is Roman."

You moved forward in your seat. Your eyes blinking a few times at the baby in front of you. You were going to have one of these in a few months. The realization sinking deep into your mind as you stared at the child in front of you.

His dad waving his hand back and forth as you said hi to him.

"He's adorable." You said as the little boy continued to coo and talk up a storm to no one in particular.

"He's only cute when he's not fighting sleep." Matt said with a smile, his hand running over the top of his child's hair.

"They do that?" You asked with a slight panic. You thought all babies loved to sleep.

God, you had no idea what children did.

"Sometimes, they're curious little things. Want to know about the big world around them. This one is extra nosey." He said as he booped Roman's nose. His little baby hands holding on tight to his dad's as he squealed loudly.

A smile across your face as you stared at the baby in front of you. Maybe they weren't so scary. This one was definitely cute.

"You here by yourself?" He questioned, shaking you out of your trance like stare on his kid.

"Oh," you paused, looking around again only to see Harry still hadn't arrived. "My friend was supposed to be here but…"

"Mhh." He hummed, "his mom was supposed to take him today for his shots. She bailed at the last minute. Guess I should have listened to that whole "don't have a baby with someone you don't know" bullshit."

You laughed, shaking your head. A smile creeping on your face as you licked your lips.

"Guess I should have listened to that too." You said back not missing the way his eyes lit up as he looked at you.

"Know this is a bit weird, hitting on you in a doctor's office."

"Oh? That's what you're doing?" You said with a cheeky smile as you looked at him.

You still got it. You thought to yourself.

"Must not be as good at this as I used to be."

"No, you're doing great." You reassured. "My appointment is in 5 minutes though so you might want to get to the part where you ask for my number."

He let out a small laugh nodding his head as he handed you his phone for you to put your number in. Your fingers worked quickly to put in your information when your name was called.

"I'll be calling, Y/N." He said as you stood up from your seat. A bit giddy you'd been hit on. That was always a good feeling.

"Look forward to it."

>>>

Your legs hung over the paper lined table. Swinging them back and forth slightly as the very sweet nurse asked you a shit ton of questions.

"'M 'ere!"

The door to the room being thrown open. Harry standing there out of breath like he'd just ran a mile.

"This must be dad." The nurse said as she looked up from her clipboard.

"Oh no, this is, unfortunately, my best friend who was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago." You said with a hint of anger etched in your voice. Not even looking at him as he took a seat beside the table you were on.

"'M sorry. I lost track of time and-"

The nurse cut him off as she continued to ask you questions. Her voice ringing high in the room around you two as she tried to avoid a fight breaking out.

He shouldn't have said he'd come if he didn't want to be here.

You sighed as the nurse finally left the room. Your eyes on the ground as you reminded yourself to not be too hard on him. It wasn’t like he had to be here. This wasn't his baby.

"'M so sorry." Harry said as he stood up from the chair. His arms around you as you hugged him back.

"'S okay. Know you got stuff going on. You still made it." You said as you buried your head in his chest. His head resting on top of yours.

"'M still a dick." He said, making you laugh as you pulled back from him. Your eyes connected with his that were filled with regret.

"You hate doctor's offices and this isn't even your baby. It's really okay."

The door opened right as he was about to speak. Whatever words he was about to say quickly being shoved back in his mouth as he pulled away from you.

"Alright, Miss Y/L/N, let's start with the easy stuff. How have you been feeling?" The doctor asked as she shut the door behind her. Your eyes on Harry as she sat in the chair with wheels across from you.

"Uh, sick to my stomach a lot and really tired. Feels like I got a real bad flu some days." You nervously fiddled with the end of your shirt as you tried your best to not chew on your nails in front of the doctor.

"Real common for this time in your pregnancy. We can prescribe some pills for nausea."

She clicked away on her keyboard that sat in front of her, barely looking at you but you didn't mind. You were just trying to not have a full fledged panic attack in front of someone you didn't know.

Harry's hand reached up to hold yours from his seat when he noticed your nerves not settling. You smiled softly at him. Silently saying thank you.

"As for the tiredness that usually wears off around the second trimester and come back again in the third." She turned around to give you a soft smile as you nodded your head. Understanding the next few months were going to be hell on your body.

"You're 10 weeks, so we won't find out the gender this time but we can still get a look at the baby. Make sure everything's going okay. That sound good to you two?" She asked as she stood up from her chair.

"Yeah." You and Harry both mumbled out.

Your stomach churned as you laid back against the table. Your eyes followed the doctor as she pushed forward an ultrasound machine beside the bed. Her hands gestured for you to lift your shirt.

You were somewhere between nervous and excited to see the baby as the cool gel hit your stomach. Your breath catching in your throat when the wand hit your stomach.

Nothing coming into sight on the little screen.

"'S that normal?" Harry asked on the edge of his seat as the wand moved over your stomach.

"Oh, yes. Sometimes they like to hide." She said as the wand pressed deeper into your skin.

Your eyes moved over to the screen again when you heard Harry take in a deep breath.

There they were. Your future baby curled up in a little ball. You felt your eyes start to water when it did a little flip and started jumping around inside of you.

You couldn't feel the movement yet but know the baby was actually in there, moving around. Living. It made your heart swell with emotions you've never felt before.

"Wow." Harry mumbled from beside you. His hand over top of yours in an instant.

"This one's really active. No wonder your stomach is so sick." The doctor said as she moved to get another look at the baby from the side.

"That's normal, right?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked intensely at the screen.

"I promise, I'll tell you if something isn't normal." The doctor said with a smile as she clicked a few buttons on the machine. Pictures printing out on the side of it.

Her wand pulled off your stomach quickly, handing you washcloths to wipe off the gel on your stomach. You felt an unfamiliar sinking in your heart as you wiped your stomach clean. You could have looked at your baby on that screen all day long.

"Healthy looking baby. That's great." The doctor said cheerfully as she handed you the pictures she had printed out. Harry craned his neck to get another.

"Only thing we have to do is keep an eye on your blood pressure." She commented off handedly as she cleaned up the machine.

"Wot?" Harry asked from beside you. A sinking feeling in your stomach setting in as you tried to telepathically tell the doctor to shut up.

It was only a tad bit high at the beginning of your appointment. Which you were sure was because of your anxiety and not anything more serious.

"Ah, see this one doesn't like to tell you things. Maybe you should be at the beginning of the appointments from now on." The doctor shot at Harry. Your laugh rung around the room as he nudged you with his elbow.

"Her blood pressure was a little high. It's common in the beginning. Only thing you have to be careful about is it not getting too high or when it drops back down, that she doesn't faint."

Harry's eyes widened as he looked at the doctor. His mouth practically on the floor as he stared from her to you. A very annoyed look across your face.

The last thing you needed was Mr. Overprotective hovering over you all the time.

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Writing #Mine #Fine Line #FL

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hisunshiine · 4 years ago

Text

𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 & 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔼ℝ |𝕛𝕛𝕜|

♡ au, friends to lovers, jungkook x reader

♡ fluff, god the cavities you will get from this, camping related injury, sfw

♡ for #btsfluffofjuly writing challenge

“Camping? I don’t think that’s such a good idea...”

“Please, you’re my best friend, you have to go with me.”

Jungkook’s doe eyes stared up at you through his long hair that was falling across his face. You shook your head, sighing as you gave in. Of course you would give in. Being hopelessly in love with your best friend would do that to you.

“Fine...”

“Ah, you’re the best Y/n!” Jungkook punched his hands up to the sky before he pulled out his phone. You couldn’t help but stare at the flexing muscles and the way the veins popped out as his fingers rapidly flew across the screen of his phone. “I’m texting the guys. We have fireworks, and oh! Those pretty sparklers you like, and the view from the campsite of the city firework show is perfect. We’re planning to go to the camping site tomorrow morning and don’t worry; Yoongi hyung made sure to grab the beer.”

You roll your eyes at the thought of the yellow yeasty piss, and yell out after Jungkook walks out of your bedroom in your shared apartment.

“You owe me liquor at least!”

Camping. You were not necessarily against camping, on the contrary, you had always wanted to do it. But you had been trying for months now to reign in your feelings for your best friend. And yes, you know that’s hard to do when you live with him, but living alone? In this economy? You weren’t stupid.

So here you were, climbing out of the Hyundai Palisade Jin had driven you, Jungkook, Namjoon up to the campsite in, luggage in the back and in the trunk of the other car that held Hobi, Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung. You took in the area, noticing the dense woods surrounding the clearing that looked like it was often used by campers. That made you feel a little safer about wild animals and such. Not that you were so far out in the wilderness. You were only about a 20 minute drive from the city, up a small incline that barely could be considered a mountain. It was more like a hill. But the elevation in this campground was definitely higher than the city, and you could see the edge that led to a drop where the river cut through, revealing the city on the other side of the rushing water. The fireworks were always done at the river, and from here, you had an uninterrupted view. It really was perfect.

Going over to the hatchback, you start helping Jungkook unload the camping supplies and duffel bags piled in the back; the others grabbing the items and dispersing them to their areas for set up. You feel your cheeks warm when your hands collide reaching for the same bag, your hand grasping his before you pull away, laughing a quick apology as you avoid his gaze. Those deep brown eyes full of galaxies have the power to drown you if you’re not careful.

“How many tents are there?” you ask, trying to figure out the sleeping arrangements. You figure you should have asked yesterday, but you forgot, too worried about being in a secluded camping site with plenty of alcohol, the love of your life who didn’t know it, and your 6 friends who definitely did.

“Um.. like 3 I think.” Jin answered, rifling through the cooler for a bottle of water.

“So, what game are we doing to see who’s sleeping with snore-machine Namjoon?” Jimin giggles at your question, covering his mouth and unsuccessfully disguising it as a cough when Namjoon turns his eyes on him in a glare.

“Ah, well, we drew straws already, so it’s actually already decided.” Yoongi answered, deadpan. “Sorry smalls, but you and Jungkook are with Namjoon.”

You dramatically fall to your knees, cursing the sky above you with shaking fists.

“Nooooooooo!”

The guys all begin to laugh, except Namjoon who walks over and flicks your forehead as you yell with your eyes closed.

Everyone gets back to setting up the campsite, and you rub your forehead before stealing Jin’s water bottle to ice your hurt head.

“Koo, can you and Sweet cheeks go gather some fire kindling?” Hobi was stoking the fire, shooting daggers at Taehyung. Tae had forgotten to grab the bag with the extra kindling sticks, and making smores over a lighter flame would not work. You didn’t really care for smores; it was the 4th of July, hot as fuck outside, and you were not a fan of being even hotter with a full bonfire raging. You look up from where you and Jungkook were laying on an inflated air mattress you had yet to move into your tent as he played animal crossing on his switch, a little upset that you had finally worked up the courage to lay your head on Jungkook’s chest so you could watch him play and not even 5 minutes later your comfy position was ruined.

Jungkook let out a sigh, the air sending a shiver down your spine at the proximity of him.

“I guess, hyung. And only I can call her Sweet cheeks,” he replies before looking over at you. “Come on sweet cheeks, let’s go.”

Jungkook set his switch down and once standing offered you his hand to pull you up. You grasped it, enjoying the way his large and warm hand engulfed your own smaller one, pouting once he let it go to head off into the woods. You saw him check his watch, mumbling something like ‘3:53 in the afternoon do we really need a fire now?’ as you trailed behind him.

“Jungkook, are there like… snakes or spiders in here?”

Jungkook smirks at you, fully aware of your fear of wild snakes and spiders.

“You’ll be okay. The closest hospital is like… maybe 20 minutes away. No worries.”

“Not comforting JK, not at all.” You cut your eyes at him, then give his shoulder a shove as he steps over a fallen log. He laughs, noting the way your shove did nothing to throw him off balance.

Without thinking, Jungkook retaliates by pushing your shoulder back, only this time, you trip, stumbling over the same fallen tree that he had easily cleared, and in your attempt to catch yourself, you overcorrect, and feel the pain of your ankle rolling.

“Ahhhhh!”

“Fuck! I’m sorry!”

You sat on the damp grass, hands gripping the grass in an attempt to quell the pain. Jungkook was crouched next to you, low-key panicking as he saw your eyes tear up.

“Oh god, fuck! I’m so sorry Y/n!” He was staring wide eyed at your ankle, which no longer looked like your ankle. You were deformed.

“You fucking… strong ass… you giant bunny!” You yell out, tearful.

Jungkook tugs at his hair, his eyes wide and scared. It’s very clear to the both of you that you cannot bear weight on this foot, as it looks like it’s broken to you.

“I’ll piggyback you!” He turns quickly, still crouched and you sniffle turning on your bottom as you adjust to cling like a koala to him. The movements cause your ankle to bounce, pain running through it and more tears fall.

“Ahh, it hurts Koo,” you tuck your face into his neck as he tries his best to walk smoothly but quickly back towards the campsite. Unfortunately, you had nothing to hold your ankle still from moving with each step Jungkook took, so every few seconds you felt the sharp pain shoot up your leg. It had swollen, you could feel the way your shoe was constricting it, but it was best not to do anything until it was looked at.

“I’m gonna take you to the ER. Seriously, it’s really like 20 minutes away. God, I can’t believe I hurt you, sweet cheeks.”

You shake your head, still sniffling as you tightened your hold across his chest. His chest was so firm, muscles tight from the way he was holding his arms to secure you to his back. You couldn’t deny that getting hurt didn’t put you in a great position, straddling his back, his hands spread to grip you firmly under your thighs; the pain didn’t prevent you from thinking indecent thoughts of him holding your thighs in a different angle. Preferably while thrusting deep inside you.

“Sweet cheeks? Do you forgive me?” Jungkook turned his head to try and see you better; you blink your eyes as you freeze. His lips were so close, you could just lean in and kiss him. Mere centimeters separated your lips from his… Just one kiss, gentle and fleeting, it was all you wanted… You leaned closer to him.

“Jungkook-ah! What did you do to her?”

Namjoon ran over, his hands grasping your face as he smoothed your loose strands of hair back away from your face. You can see his eyebrows knit together, worry over your red rimmed eyes and clearly dried tears tracks on your cheeks.

“I’m okay Joonie, I rolled my ankle.” You smile, trying to calm him so that the others don’t react the same way, but it was too late.

“Yah! You were supposed to get wood, not trip over it!” Hobi yelled from where he was kneeling by the fire pit.

“I’m taking her to the ER. I think it might be broken. Yoongi, can I get the keys?” Yoongi nods, walking over to the car with you both to open up the door so you can be seated.

Jungkook leans down, bending his knees so that you can slide off of his back and scoot into the passenger seat. A part of you is sad that you are no longer holding onto him, while another part is chiding you for using this to your advantage to cuddle into him on the trek through the woods.

“I can take Smalls if you want, Guk-ah,” Yoongi offers, but Jungkook shakes his head, producing his hand for the keys.

“No, hyung, I did this. I’ll take her. If there’s anything we forgot to pack, text me and we’ll stop and get it before we come back up. No more hunting for firewood for this one.”

Jungkook climbs into the car and soon you’re traveling down the dirt path back out of the woods. Jungkook reaches over, his free hand grasping yours. You look up at him, eyes wide at the gesture.

“Y/n, I really am sorry. We’ll get you patched up soon.” His thumb lightly traces circles into the top of your hand, and you continue to watch him long after his gaze has returned to the road; attention to the highway he’s speeding down to get you to the emergency room.

“Ankle dislocation?!” You and Jungkook both have your mouths open, shocked to hear the diagnosis. It sounded way worse than a fracture or broken foot. In fact, the doctor said it hurt worse than one too.

“Yes, your boyfriend here did the right thing bringing you in. Dislocation can be dangerous if it’s left out of place for too long, causing long lasting nerve damage. To avoid this, we’ll be skipping the X-Rays. It’s clearly popped out of place, so we’ll just pop it back in!”

You heard some of what the doctor said, but really, when she called Jungkook your boyfriend, most of your body just malfunctioned. Especially when he didn’t correct her. Granted, he still was in shock, as were you, but then you saw the very buff nurse walk in wheeling what looked like an oxygen tank, except it was blue, and focused on that.

“Now, Y/n, we’re gonna give you some Nitrous Oxide, it will help with the discomfort as we reduce the dislocation,” she turned to face Jungkook, “Boyfriend, come over here and hold her hand. After we finish, we’ll let her rest while we get a boot and crutches for her as well as the discharge papers, okay?”

Jungkook nods, eyes still wide in shock that a simple push had led to this.

“I need you to monitor her, okay? 5 minutes after, take the mask off her. While we get everything ready, she’ll be a little loopy from the N2O… it’s laughing gas, but after another 5 minutes, it should pass.”

You had already had the male nurse place the mask on your face when you heard the doctor say laughing gas. It was too late to decline it; you could feel yourself relaxing into a stupor of content, the pain gone.

Jungkook’s hand felt nice. So warm, you thought. And attached to such a beautiful man. Wow. You wince a little when the orthopedic doctor and male nurse pop your ankle back into place, but once it’s over, you sigh as you sink into the pillow.

“Jungkooooo..” you turn your eyes to him, admiring the way his hair frames his face. God, you love that man.

“What’s up, Sweet cheeks?”

“Koo… you’re so pretty.”

He blushes, ears turning bright red along with his cheeks.

“Sweet cheeks, hush. Just relax.”

“No seriously, Koo… you’re beautiful. I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n, you're my best friend.”

“No Koo, I like, really love you. Like I want to have your babies love you.” You turn your head to the side, cheek resting on the pillow as you gaze longingly at your best friend. He was staring at you now no longer in shock from the ankle injury; it now seemed he was dealing with disbelief at the words you were saying.

“God Koo, I've loved you for so long,” you sigh as you reach out to grasp his hand; his hand feels clammy but you're too high on laughing gas to notice. You have no way of knowing that his heart is beating fast in his chest, so fast he feels like it might pump its way straight out of his body.

“You love me? Not, like, as a best friend, but more?”

“Practically since the day we met, remember that day, Koo? In art class?”

“How could I forget?” Jungkook replies softly.

You giggle, remembering being paired to work together on the 8th grade art project, and you were so in love with the bunny-smile-having desk mate, yet so afraid to befriend him. That project had gotten you both a good grade, but had changed the course of your life. You found your best friend in that bunny smile, the mole beneath his bottom lip, the scratch in his cheek.

Jungkook stands, moving to you and grasps the mask that is over your nose.

“Time to take this off, sweet cheeks. 5 minutes are up.”

As he leans over and removes the mask from your face, you can’t help yourself. You grasp his shirt and pull yourself up to meet his lips with your own.

Magic. Fireworks. His lips are softer than you imagined, soft as the Cloud 9 you are floating on as you slot your top lip between his lips, pulling his plump bottom lip into your mouth. The kiss feels perfect, and you pull away after a few seconds, falling back onto the pillow behind you.

The nitrous oxide has made you feel relaxed and calm, and you close your eyes, content. You miss the way he stands there watching you, having felt his whole world shift, coming into focus with you at the center.

3 hours later from leaving the campsite and Jungkook has you in the car, fitted with a boot and crutches, a prescription for painkillers in your lap that had just finished getting filled at the pharmacy, and some kindling. You had a slight headache, the side effects of the Nitrous Oxide, as well as impaired memory and increased sleepiness. You had been drifting in and out of sleep since you had been given a pain killer when the doctor arrived back to give you the boot and crutches, discharge papers and the prescription to fill. The ER was busy as you were wheeled out of it by Jungkook, who headed towards the pharmacy. You could see people in all states of injury, sporting small burns, a few broken bones here and there, and the wildest was the man with a barbecue fork in his hand wrapped in a kitchen towel. The fourth of July was one of the busiest days for Emergency Rooms, and this year appeared to be no different.

You barely registered when Jungkook parked the car and turned off the engine, peacefully napping with your head against the cool glass of the window. He looked over at you after he unbuckled his seatbelt, reaching out to sweep your hair back away from your face.

“Sweet cheeks,” he said softly, attempting to wake you. “Hey, we’re back at the campsite.”

“Hmm?” You turn your head slowly opening your eyes as you take in his proximity, his face inches from yours as his hand continues to remain on your skin; palm to your cheek as his thumb gently strokes your cheek.

“We’re back Y/n, let’s get you in our tent so you can rest.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching sleepily to undo your seatbelt and open your door. Jungkook pulls away and rushes to get around the other side of the car to help you. The campsite was empty, but he could see some of the boys fishing down by the river and hear the laughter of the others nearby. Normally Jungkook would be wanting to join them, but today, he didn’t want to leave your side. He carried you from the car to your now tent, the air mattress that had previously been outside was placed inside next to Namjoon’s, and he knelt down to lay you on it. You were surprised to feel him slide in next to you, grabbing the thin sheet to put over you both. He wrapped an arm tentatively around your waist and pulled your back to his chest, and you fell asleep like that, feeling safe in his arms.

“Hey, guys, the fireworks are gonna start soon!” Jimin’s excited voice pierced through your sleep, waking you up from your nap. You try and roll over, but are pinned down by the heavy arm of your favorite person.

“Jungkook! Get up! Fireworks time!” You’re loud, and he finally wakes, groggy sleep eyes as he deciphers the words you are saying to him. Jimin runs off, and you can hear the boys laughing as the sounds of sparklers and poppers go off, the patter of their feet as they chase each other making you want to go out and join them.

It takes you a few minutes to get situated and meet everyone over by the edge to watch the fireworks, but Jungkook doesn’t leave your side and you are grateful. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close so you can lean on him, and he’s so buddy staring down at you that he jumps when the first fireworks go off.

“It’s so pretty, Koo, look!” you point out an exceptionally bright purple shimmering firework in the sky.

“Yea, it is.” You don’t notice at first that he’s not looking at the sky; he’s looking at you.

When you do notice, you turn away from the light show and meet his eyes, the fireworks reflecting in them.

“Koo?”

“I love you, Y/n.”

You freeze, muscles tense as you stare at him, baffled.

“Wha--?”

“You… I know how you feel about me. And I wanted to tell you I feel the same. I love you. Like in a ‘kiss you under the fireworks, someday have my babies’ kind of way.”

Your face is warm, heat rising to the surface of your skin as you attempt to duck your head, but his free hand gently grasps your chin while the one around your shoulders guides your body to face him and rests on your back.

“Can I?”

You don’t know what he’s asking, but you could never say no to him. Not when his floofy hair was framing his face, his doe eyes were pleading with you, and he was so close…

You nod, and a breath later his lips are on yours.

The sounds of the fireworks don’t drown out the whooping and whistling you hear from your friends as they witness the blossoming of a relationship they all knew was inevitable. But all you hear is your heartbeat, pulsing in time with Jungkook’s as he wraps both arms around you and pulls you closer to him.

Pulling back from him, you have a weird sense of deja vu, and tell him as much.

Smirking, he looks down into your eyes and reveals that this indeed was not your first kiss.

“When did we? How?”

“In the hospital. You grabbed my shirt and pulled me to you for a kiss when I removed your laughing gas mask.”

Your brain is able to recall some of what Jungkook is saying, but before you can be embarrassed he leans down your ear, his lips grazing the outer edge as he whispers.

“Sweet cheeks, don’t worry, I’m glad you did it.” He kissed the tender spot below your ear. “It felt right. I think I’ve always known it’s you… I just didn’t know how to approach it.” Another kiss to your jawline. “But I love you. And now you’re mine.”

His eyes sparkled as the last of the fireworks burst in the air.

“I’m yours.”

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt: Wally Franks, but he's a wizard.

One wizard Wally coming right up!

It was a miracle how the Janitor kept the studio clean.

Even when it was just a tiny shack of a building, it was a busy tiny shack of a building that had ink and papers constantly spilling everywhere; crumpled up balls of paper that would miss the trashcans, broken bottles of ink, and god knows what else because people are messy. But it was manageable and easily cleaned. After all, if Wally 'slacks off until the last possible second every single day in that dumb hat of his' Franks managed to keep the place spotless, it couldn't be that hard.

Anyone in the studio could recognize Wally without even meeting the man because of that ridiculous hat, but nobody could tell why he wore such a thing as he always changed the story behind it.

"Laugh now, but dese are all the rage ouva in dose hoity-toity upscale cities. I'm gonna mistaken for one of those shmucks and get famous!"

"Oh, dis old thing? Okay, let me set the stage fah ya: Way, way, back in good ol' 1692, my great-great-insert a couple dozen or so more 'greats' in dere grandpa really cheesed off a witch in da woods... *one over the top ridiculous story later* ...and now my entire bloodline is cursed to weah stupid hats."

"I Might've lost da first bet, but ya should've seen da getup the outha guy's stuck with!"

"Da best way ta keep a clown from sneakin' up an killin' ya is ta trick 'em into thinkin' you're one of them."

"All my outha hats got covered in ink."

"Didn't ya see dat Mickey Mouse short in da 'Fantasia' thang Disney put out? Obviously I wear dis stupid hat 'cause gives me magical powers."

"Isn't 'Steamboat Willie' they only animation that Disney made?"

"Aw shoot- I mean, I must've been thinkin' about something else then."

Often after answering he'd laugh and nonchalantly change the subject. Nobody really thought anything of it, the Janitor was the biggest chatterbox in the studio and always had a bunch of different subjects on his mind.

The day after Henry left, the studio expanded.

More rooms to fill with art, more people to fill the void of the lost creator, more ink to fuel it all. In fact, it didn’t stop there, why should it? Joey more musicians and started hiring voice actors to make future cartoons even better than the old ones, to prove to himself that he didn't need Henry to make their creation successful. Yet in spite of this rapid growth, the cleaning staff still only had one member; a single janitor and his stupid, colorful, pointy hat.

Joey didn’t even bother trying to hire anyone else for the studio’s cleaning staff. Even when animators and musicians got concerned for Wally about being the only janitor at such a big studio, Joey always said that he could never find anyone as ‘talented’ as Wally for the job. And to the Director’s credit, he was correct. No matter how large the studio grew, no matter how often the janitor slacked off, and no matter how bad the messes got, the studio would always be completely and perfectly spotless when the workers arrived in the morning. While Wally did complain to high heaven about having to clean up after everybody and often repeated what was essentially now his catchphrase, he never seemed to be exhausted from the job itself. If anything, he seemed to be overall more well rested than the other staff.

However, almost no one paid mind to this, after all, they work to do and had deadlines to meet, no time to spend wondering about the Janitor's uncanny ability to stay on top of his workload, they just were used to it and accepted it as one of the studio workers’ natural mysteries. Like how the building felt like it was changing itself sometimes, or how the projectionist seemed to be anywhere and or everywhere, or how the music director seemed to be a seer who made bitter, sarcastic, and or dry humored remarks that would often turn into accurate predictions of the future, or how Joey always seemed to know where everyone in the studio was. (Okay, that last one might’ve just been that he had the building wiretapped and there was nothing supernatural about that.)

Thankfully for Wally Franks, there was only one person who really took the time to sit down and question how he managed to get all several stories of the now almost constantly inked studio completely spotless was the man who had piled on a couple extra chores with his and his machine's arrival.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“So I’m cleaning da studio late at night an' I almost forgot dat Mistah Conner started doing late night shifts an' he almost caught me in full swing, I had brooms and mops out flyin' everywhere an' he almost saw everythang! Luckily, his footsteps are pretty heavy so it was easy ta know when he was coming but man dat was close! And I'm startin' ta think he's caught on to da fact dat there's something fishy goin' on down 'ere an' I bet I was really something suspicious back 'dere. 'Dis is the first time since dat incident he let me outta his sight while on da clock. What do ya think Sam? Last straw? Should I really get outta here before it gets worse? How'd my futuah look eitheah way?"

The music director sighed in annoyance before answering the janitor.

"For the last goddamned time, I CAN'T really see the future, Franks! That's just a dumb running joke between the studio."

"But you definitely can! And wit' accuracy too! remembah when ya told me ta not eat dat sandwich in the fridge or else I'd get punched even though it was MY Sandwich and afta I shrugged ya off, Jerry went an' clocked me in da jaw? You saw the freakin' futuah! You saw that I'd get punched and ya tried ta warn me!"

"Or, I saw the fact you have a long history of eating other people's food, had my back turned to you at the moment, and thought you were eating Jerry's sandwich. Jerry probably also thought you were eating his sandwich because you two brought in the exact same lunch!"

The musician stood up from his seat to refill his coffee mug, but before he could, the janitor dropped down on his knees in front of him and gave him his best 'puppy dog eyes'.

"C'mon Sammy! Please tell me what I should do! I don't wanna end up stuck in jail or dead from this! I have a girlfriend and a kid!"

The unwilling prophet pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought of something to tell the "wizard" to get him off his back.

"My best advice to you is to tell Conner about your secret in a secluded area, preferably a night shift you both work. If he doesn't believe you, demonstrate a simple yet flashy spell. And then wait for his reaction. If you get the feeling he's going to tell the world, tell him that if he tells anyone else, you will curse him and his entire bloodline."

"Wait, really? I mean, I don't plan on ignorin' ya but is dat really the best caurse of action?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Well fer starters, cursing an entirah bloodline ain't somethin' you should take lightly! Even if it's something small, just, an' kinda silly like; 'Every time ya yell at someone for somethin' they didn't do, yer voice turns all high pitched and squeaky'. Ya could end up ruinin' someone's life! What if Tom's great-great grandson or whateva decided ta become a lawyeah and while defendin' his client, his voice got all squeaky. He'd be da laughin' stock of da legal system an' I'd be ta blame!"

"Okay, fine. Then just curse Conner specifically if he tries to ruin your life."

"But I don't even use magic on livin' things! What if I screw up an' accidentally turn him inta some kinda squeaky toy? Besides, is dere any otha way than just, revealing my secret dat I kept for my entirah life ta some guy who came in here an' started bossin' me around?"

Sammy rolled his eyes in annoyance. An action that registered to Wally as 'Why do these people keep asking me for help with the future if they keep fighting against me over the advice I give?' While Sammy knew his action meant 'Why am I constantly being bothered by my coworkers over their dumb running jokes pretending that magic is real?'

"Well, you told me, didn't you?"

"I mean, yeah, but dat's different! We're both, you know, and he's... well, not! I know you won't out me, but he might, even unda da threat of cursing!"

The two stood in silence for a bit before Sammy tried to leave again and Wally blocked his way.

"Just in case, do ya have any otha predictions?"

"I predict that if you stand between me and the coffee machine for any longer, you will suffer a terrible fate by my hands."

"Okay, okay! jeeze..."

And as the musician left for the break room, Wally silently dreaded the next time he and Tom would work a night shift together. Hopefully the studio's constantly irritated oracle was right about this being the best course of action.

#bendy and the ink machine #wally franks #sammy lawrence #batim au #fanfic #request

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raendown · 5 years ago

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2964 Soulmate au: The one where the first time your soulmate touches your skin it leaves a permanent mark

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 210

He understood the way Izuna watched him now, a little askance, a little curious. On a bad day Tobirama regretted telling his lifelong rival the secret he’d protected since he first realized it himself. Knowing someone like that carried such intimate knowledge about him was surely a recipe that could only end in violent disaster. On a good day he watched Izuna slowly integrating with a clan he’d once sworn to eradicate and felt hope for the future, hope that all of the people he cared about could live happy and peaceful lives.

Today was a bad day. Hashirama sent him a pointed look from across the room but Tobirama looked away, not feeling up to pretending that he was surprised Izuna had discovered his soulmate among the Senju. He was the one who told his old rival that she was here, after all. When he was younger he’d assumed that all sensors could feel what he did, the shape of souls and the way two people fit together, but it was only through keeping his mouth shut and listening carefully to the right conversations that he learned he was wrong. No one else seemed to be able to feel which two souls would click together, ignorant until the pair touched each other and the soul marks appeared on both of them. And until the day Izuna demanded one good reason he should allow their clans to make peace no one else had known that Tobirama could.

Knowing a soul pair before they discovered the bond for themselves was a delicate burden that sometimes required some interesting social gymnastics in order to bring the pair together without letting on that he was doing so. Not, of course, that he did so very often. Tobirama was many things but a rogue cupid matchmaking couples in his downtime was not one of them, not unless the couple’s happiness mattered in some way to him.

He would never sully his brother’s ‘perfect love story’ by revealing that his meeting with Mito was only made possible by Tobirama’s machinations.

Telling Izuna his secret had been a necessity he never expected but at least he didn’t regret it every day. He took a bit of comfort from knowing that he’d still made the idiot work for it a little, only telling him that his match was here among the clan he hated so badly but not revealing who exactly she was. Wasn’t the journey supposed to make the destination worth more or something like that? Still, as happy as today was for others Tobirama couldn’t help feeling little more than bitter.

It was all well and good to feel the shape of souls, to know how they fit together, to reach out in to the world and know without years of searching exactly who would fit his own soul the best. It was another thing entirely to look them in the eye and know that he would likely never have the chance to complete his bond like so many others did.

Feeling Izuna’s gaze move towards him with the same disapproving weight as Hashirama’s made him turn away and leave the room. He had no desire to know what was running through either of their minds. If he wanted to wallow in his loneliness while the rest of the world moved on with their little white picket fence perfect lives that was his own business. Better to remove himself to the engawa where he could sit in peace without Hashirama hissing in his ear to stop sulking or be happy for others or some other nonsense. At least when he was alone no one bothered him about whatever his face was doing.

He had only just settled on the edge of the tatami mats outside when he felt a particular chakra signature break away from the rest to head in his direction. Tobirama sighed. Of course a moment’s reprieve was too much to ask.

Madara rounded the corner with surprisingly quiet steps for a man whose natural gait was stomping, gliding down the engawa as if planning an assassination. Actually Tobirama would not have been very surprised if such an attempt were made. Neither of the Uchiha brothers had ever made secret their disdain for him and his insistence on considering the practical side of every issue that rose during council meetings. With his brother’s annoying voice in his head, however, he erred on the side of caution and held still without making any accusations. Let Madara be the one to announce whatever it was he wanted. There was no reason for Tobirama to make anything easier for the man who had made his own life so difficult.

“Not even going to look at me?”

Ah. Of course he had managed to do something wrong before the conversation even began.

“I was hoping for a few moments alone,” Tobirama said. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah. I’ve got...a question.”

The uncharacteristic hesitance captured his attention, turning his head to where he could see the outline of Madara’s figure lingering several arm lengths away. “And you’re not screaming it in my face? Now that’s a novelty. Go on then.”

“Izuna told me what you told him.”

“Oh.” Facing forward again, Tobirama did what he could to swallow the terror riding up in his chest. “What precisely did he tell you?”

“That you can tell who someone’s soulmate is, something to do with your sensing. He says you were the one who told him that his was in the Senju clan. I didn’t really believe him - he wasn’t even sure if he believed you - but now that we know it’s true…”

Choking on all the secrets inside his chest, Tobirama struggled to keep his face clear.

“I think I can guess your question,” he said quietly.

“What do you want in return?” Even without looking he could see Madara drawing himself up. “I won’t beg. But...I am willing to offer whatever price you ask…”

Tobirama shook his head. “You don’t want that.”

“Huh?”

“Yes, I do know who your soulmate is. Yes, they are here in the village. And to answer the question you’re trying to ask, no. I will not tell you who they are.”

“Why the hell not!?” Madara’s presence took one menacing step closer, the fire of his chakra spiking.

Tobirama tried not to be too obvious about basking in the warmth of something he knew was not truly being offered to him, the same hopeless wanting he’d been fighting back since childhood. Should it not have become easier by now?

He supposed the difference was in the distance. For years their clans had been at war and it had been so easy to blame the impossibility of his situation on the endless rivers of blood between them. Now they were at peace. Now there was nothing for him to hide his pointless feelings behind but the ceaseless hatred the entirety of the Uchiha clan held for him as though his crimes of war had been any worse than their own.

“You do not want to know,” he answered finally.

“Like hell I don’t!” Madara’s voice sounded affronted, something he really couldn’t blame the man for even if he was trying to protect them both. “You don’t get to make this decision for me!”

Tobirama took a deep breath and focused his gaze out over the garden, splashed with gold in the setting sun. “I don’t mean to be difficult. This is an honest request; don’t ask this of me. When I say you don’t wish to know I mean it. Knowing will not bring you happiness.”

“It’s my soulmate! That’s- that’s the whole point!”

As much as he wanted to argue that, he couldn’t. Not without explaining himself. By the rage he could feel building in Madara’s chakra, the deep-set yearning so many held for the ideal of a perfect soulmate, it was beginning to look like he might not have a choice in that. The man behind him was among the most stubborn Tobirama had ever met. He was not the type to simply let this go without a proper explanation no matter how someone tried to tell him it was in his best interest not to know. The look in Madara’s eyes said he was not leaving without an answer.

Tobirama traced the shape of a lily with his eyes and did what he could to brace himself for the fallout about to come down on his own head.

“Give me your word that you will take this knowledge and leave,” he said. “I have no desire to hear your inevitably negative reaction.”

“Fine, whatever. I just...need to know. I don’t care if it’s someone I don’t like, it’s the not knowing that drives me mad.”

“Indeed.” That, at least, was something Tobirama could relate to.

Still, despite having extracted such a promise it took a few minutes to work up the courage he needed. The truth did not scare him. It was something he had known for many years and made his peace with long ago. No, what gave him pause was the future ahead of them in which he would spend the rest of his life watching Madara pretending that they did not share this knowledge, pretending it wasn’t true.

“I am your soulmate,” he whispered finally, closing his eyes against the spike of shocked chakra from behind him and speaking quickly to head off whatever outburst was about to wash over them both. “Spare me your rejections and denials. You gave me your word. I told you that you would not wish to know; if the answers don’t please you then you have only fate to blame.”

He waited, chest tight around a heavy heart, and yet the presence behind him refused to move so much as an inch. A breeze lifted the edges of his clothing but somehow the air around him felt still and stifling, the very thought of drawing another breath making his chest clench painfully. Tobirama squeezed his eyes tighter and waited even as the dread wriggled in that this moment of terror might stretch out in to forever with no answer. When finally Madara shifted behind him he winced, almost expecting the man to lash out somehow in denial.

“You? All this time...you?” By some miracle, despite the shock clear in his voice, he did not turn to immediately storm off . “How long have you known that you’re- that you and I- you know?”

“I’ve known since I was a child,” Tobirama answered with as little inflection as possible.

“Seriously? All these years you knew exactly who your soulmate was and you never even said anything!?”

The deep breath he pulled in felt almost as though it tore his lungs on the way through. “We were on opposite sides of a war. Pointing out that the fates seem to have gotten their wires crossed was all but useless then.”

“We have been at peace for almost a year!”

“And what would you have done with this knowledge if I had told you at any other point before now? Nothing different.” Shaking his head, Tobirama finally opened his eyes to glare out at the flora around him. “You would have been just as disappointed, probably even more angry. What would have been the point in stripping away any hope you had left for a happy match?”

Madara’s hand on his shoulder startled him so badly he surged to his feet, fumbling a couple steps away from the engawa before turning around to see the other man blinking after him in surprise. The expression didn’t last long. It cleared quickly to make way for something like determination to take its place as Madara hopped down from the porch as well and stomped his way over until he could take a fistful of Tobirama’s clothing at the shoulder.

“Quit putting all the responsibility for this on me!” he snarled.

“What?”

“You’ve decided everything about this match without ever asking the other half of it! First you decide it’s somehow not worth even telling me and now when you finally do you’ve just decided on my behalf that there’s no point in doing anything about it. I’m noticing a distinct lack of any agency here! So far you’ve rather neatly avoided saying what you want.” Madara lifted one eyebrow challengingly, an expression that had led to more than one screaming match between them since neither was the type to back down from anything, but for once Tobirama couldn’t find it in himself to get riled up.

He was too busy listening to the silent wordless panic inside his head, the urge to flee before this could go any farther. When he gave in to the idea of revealing his biggest secret he hadn’t expected to be dragged in to conversation about what he wanted out of this.

“I…” Despite the many thoughts chasing each other through his mind Tobirama found that none of them would settle enough to become actual words, leaving him staring at the other man helplessly.

“Oh. You...you want this...don’t you?” Madara stared back with wide eyes as Tobirama spluttered senselessly.

Unfortunately words were still avoiding him, any kind that would make sense or help him gracefully exit this conversation, anyway. He fumbled his way through a few garbled half sentences before snapping his jaw shut and closing his eyes again to take a deep breath. When he opened them again he was almost surprised that such a perfect opportunity to punch him in the face hadn’t been taken.

“Let go of my shirt, please,” he said quietly.

“No!”

“Madara, would you just-”

“You don’t get to make decisions for me anymore! If I want to stand here and hold on to your shirt I will! And if maybe I want to rethink my opinions of you I’m gonna! And if I want to slap you in the face I might do that too!”

Tobirama frowned. “What the hell would slapping me accomplish?”

“It’d get my mark on you for starters!”

With that Madara finally released his fistful of cloth only to shove it aside and press his hand against the front of Tobirama’s shoulder. Both of them froze. Pulling it away revealed a handprint in brilliant red, the same shade coloring the entirety of Madara’s palm when he turned it over to look. It wasn’t as though Tobirama had been expecting anything else, he’d known they were soulmates almost since they first met, but it was somehow different to stare down at the physical evidence of a connection he had lived with alone for so many years.

The last thing he expected was for Madara to calmly lower his hand and lift his chin with something like determination in his eyes. No anger, no disappointment. If not for the clench of his fist he might have been entirely calm.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be entirely terrible to get to know you a little better,” he said.

“A glowing offer if I’ve ever been given one.” Still tense and waiting for an explosion that wasn’t coming, Tobirama sighed at his own instinctual snark. “Sorry. I, ah, don’t have any objections to learning more about each other I suppose.”

His soulmate eyed him thoughtfully for a painful few moments. “I think you probably already know plenty about me. Looks like I’ll have to catch up. We should probably go back inside, though.”

“No one is looking for us, if that was your worry. Izuna’s chakra is entirely too wrapped around his partner’s for me to feel very comfortable being within visual range of them.” Tobirama shuddered. He’d watched Izuna’s soulmate grow up, a distant cousin of some relation several times removed, there was no need for him to see her be intimate with anyone let alone his lifetime rival.

“Right. Uh. Maybe we just start talking now? I mean like having a conversation. Shut up, I know we’re already having one! I mean I could- oh forget it!” Throwing his hands up, Madara took a step back that seemed more an excuse to stomp his foot than anything else.

“I would like that,” Tobirama agreed quietly.

Choosing not to let his own emotions overwhelm him turned out to be the right decision, immediately rewarded when Madara calmed down enough to nod with flushed cheeks, looking around for a place to sit. Tobirama let the other man get settled in before delicately lowering himself back in to the spot where he’d been moping before. To his credit, despite the incredibly awkward set of every line in his body Madara did not allow any chance for an awkward silence to fall over them. As soon as they were both seated he struck up a rambling narrative about how little they actually knew of each other and how perhaps he should learn more about someone before making judgments about them, all of which Tobirama listened to with the faintest shadow of a smile spreading across his lips.

It wasn’t exactly a confession, it wasn’t some grand love story about two idiots pining away for each other in secret, misunderstood and misinformed, but it was enough. It was a start.

Watching his soulmate awkwardly trace shapes in the air as he spoke, Tobirama lifted one hand to discreetly press against the front of his shoulder where he had finally been granted the honor of carrying their bond mark. For now this was more than enough. For years he had kept his silence thinking that nothing would ever happen. If all it took was a little patience to encourage their bond to grow he was willing to give that - and so much more - to see where it would take them.

#rae writes #soulmate collection #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction

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ask-de-writer · 5 years ago

Text

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 29 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 29 of 83

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

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“Kurin and I were playmates when we were young,” Silor began earnestly. “We didn’t know what Cat was back then. She was just someone who was always there. Cat knew lots of good stories about the First Ships. That’s where it started. Kurin started asking for more stories and Cat started teaching her apart from the rest of us.

“One night, Kurin’s father died. He was only twenty nine or thirty. Kurin found him. Within a short time, her mother went raving mad, then ceased to move or do anything. She’s still like that. Afterwards, Kurin and Cat, the Dragon, became inseparable. I think that her parents were a test of Kurin by the Dragon but I’ll never know for sure.

“A little after that, Kurin beat me out of the boat-shop apprenticeship under Master Juris. I was two Gatherings older and considered likely for the job. Then, without any explanation, no other Craft on the Longin would have me either. Her influence was spreading.

“To be fair, I never heard of Cat doing anything evil. She wasn’t human, so she may not have realized what kind of person she was teaching.

“I became a deck-hand. I was a good one. In only one and a half Gatherings I was made lead deck-hand, the youngest ever on the Longin. Ask anyone, I was well-thought-of, maybe officer material in a few more Gatherings.

“I admit that I fell asleep on watch. It was only a nap, and I was on duty in the hold. How much trouble was that? I’ll tell you. They stripped me of my lead deck-hand job! Only three of her lousy crabs died, and they broke me for it!

“Later, I was in a class,” Silor paused, torn between ingrained loyalty and his tale. “I can’t tell you what the class was about. That’s Ship’s Business. The important thing is this. She was in the class, too. Captain Mord told me that I was doing well and then threw me out of the class.”

Huh, she thought, hearing this out, If he believes what he’s saying there’s enough emptiness in his head to make a good float out of it. I’ve heard some of these tales from other sources. It’s obvious that he’s left out more than he’s told. “Ye make a start on yer case but i’ t’is come up in t’e Arrakan fleet, ye’d lose. Oi need more proof. Especially about t’e fleet bein’ under ‘er control. Ye’ve nae even addressed t’at.”

“Tanlin, love, I can attest to at least some of what he says. He first brought the matter to my attention five Gatherings ago, as a lad of nine. Since then I have watched the surreptitious machinations of Kurin. She does far more than make toys!”

“Oi fail t’ see ‘t, Barad, m’ luve. T’e fleet dinnae revolve about ‘er. She commands nane, nae is she any but kind.”

Silor started to rise up in protest but Barad waved him down. “That is true. She is far too clever to put herself in so exposed a position. Why should she take risks when others will do so for her without even knowing that they serve her? She has real power — — and no need for the trappings of power.”

He appeared to be hit by inspiration. “Stand up, Silor!”

Mystified, Silor did so.

“There you are, Tanlin, the proof stands before you.”

“Oi’m now confused. Enlighten m’.”

“Why was he exiled?”

“‘E slept on wotch, w’ich ‘e admits, an’ gave away Ship’s Business.”

“What business did he give away? I’ll tell you. He told amusing stories about their crabbing venture, which I grant is a main business for them. The deadly revelation? That they had special nets for crabs and knew where to find them. Both are obvious to anyone who thinks for ten seconds.”

“Oi’m beginnin’ t’ see. T’is wa’ a mere pretext.”

“Exactly. Once he was ejected from the Longin, his credentials should have gotten him an immediate berth on almost any ship in the fleet. It didn’t happen.

“I was at the Captains’ Council. Everyone agreed, even the Longin, that he had done nothing to die for but no ship would save him. And they agreed that he was worth saving. Thus, exile. She rid herself of a nuisance, and no blood shed, nor clue that it was even her doing — — unless one looks at the whole unlikely chain of events.”

“Wy’d ye nae just take ‘im up t’en, like so many ot’ers ye’ve ‘elped?”

“Yes,” said Silor. “Why did you let me be sent away?”

“Safety,” said Barad solemnly. “Yours and mine. You opposed her openly and she determined to have you removed. That is why the others would not help you.

“What would have happened to your only refuge if I had opposed her will by taking you openly? I play the part of buffoon, many laugh at this ship and myself. Let them. It keeps her from taking us seriously. That is the only safety that there is.”

“Now Oi see ‘t. Wye wa’ ‘t so ‘ard t’ see?” You do play well to his madness, Barad. I would not have tried to turn this one to a tool. I must learn what you plan to do. This one is dangerous.

Solemnly Barad said, “This is why only she, of all who claim to be Dragon-witches, is dangerous. She never owns-up to her power. She never claims it. She just uses it, hidden from all.”

There was a discrete rap at the door. They all quieted at once. Barad went and opened it a narrow slit. A whispered conversation followed.

“That was the watch officer. We need to go up on deck.”

As they were going up the companion-ladder to the deck, Barad asked casually, “Have you ever seen your boat before?”

“Yes,” said Silor tightly. “In the Longin’s boat-shop.”

“Master Juris must have been pleased with it.”

“He was but he didn’t build it …” A look of fear washed across Silor’s face as the realization hit. “Kurin did. It was her journeyman’s submission piece.” He ran to the rail. “Where is it? Where’s the boat?”

“I’m Officer of the Watch, Theld Elon, Sir. Boat’s at the end of its line.” The line went down into the water, drawn tight and pulled back at an angle by the Grandalor’s speed. “Went down sudden a few minutes ago.”

Tanlin looked calmly over the side. “‘T appears t’at we almost missed pickin’ ye up. Oi wonder ‘ow t’is ‘appened?” How did you do this, you old dragon? What a touch! I would never have thought of this!

“Mister Theld, heave to,” ordered Captain Barad with quiet authority. “Get a diver on deck now! We need to secure that boat for lifting. With the water in her she’ll be heavy when she breaches the surface.”

Theld set to issuing orders, and the tocsin began its tattoo of command, bringing the watch to deck. A diver, roused from her bunk, came up still yawning and stretching. A pair of ungainly looking flat things were hung over her shoulder.

“What’s the problem, Captain?”

“We need to retrieve the boat that’s on the end of this line.”

Without any question as to why or if it were urgent, the diver got straight to business.

“What kind of boat is it and how big?”

“Day-sailer. About twenty five feet long, loaded for a month’s voyage.” Captain Barad looked for confirmation to Silor, who nodded.

“How long is this line?” She had stripped, leaving only a pair of tight fitting shorts. Sitting on the deck, she began strapping the flat things onto her feet. She tied her hair into a tight bun.

“About forty feet.”

“OK, I’ll need two fifty foot, number three cables. Attach the first one to the cargo block of the heavy crane. Get the portable crane over here and secure it to the mizzen mast. Put the other cable onto its cargo block.”

There was a lull for Captain Barad, Tanlin and Silor, as the watch crew prepared things to the diver’s satisfaction.

“What are those things on her feet?” Silor asked.

“Arrakan diver’s flips,” Tanlin answered. “Our divers ‘ave used t’em for Gat’erings past remembering.”

“I thought that you lost your memory,” said Silor curiously. “Did it come back?” At her look of distress and Barad’s of rage, he feared that he had made a serious mistake.

“Nae, Luve. Donnae ‘old ‘t against ‘im.” She was biting back tears. The more I do this the easier it is to forget that it’s an act. “Ye cannae protect m’ from t’e world forever, an’ Oi must learn t’ cope wit’ ‘t.” She turned to Silor. “Tis like t’is. Oi lost only ane t’ing from m’ memory. People. M’sel’ an’ eveyane t’at Oi’ve ever known, until Oi awoke t’ t’e Orca song.

“Oi can draw ye t’e plan an’ lines o’ ever’ ship Oi‘ve lived on. Oi know all t’at Oi used t’ know. Oi ‘ave t’e ’ule Arrakan fleet, ‘ts laws, customs, navigation, ever’t’in’s ‘ere,” she tapped her temple. “But t’ere’s nae ane person t’ere! Nae even m’sel’! Tis worse t’an ghosts. Tis utterly empty an’ never stops ‘urting, unless Oi can focus on somet’in’ new.

“Barad’s precious t’ m’ because ‘e keeps m’ safe at night. ‘E ‘olds m’ an’ keeps t’e emptiness inside from swallowin’ m’.” Strange, but that’s nearly true. Even if what we did was wrong, what’s done is done. We were married before the whole Naral fleet by Arrakan law and, as it was accepted, it’s now legal by the Third Great Law. I’m being treated like a partner and friend as a wife should be.

“I’m sorry,” said Silor sincerely. “I have some idea of what you must feel. I’ve lost my ship, too. Also, my fleet, all that made home for me. They’re gone but I remember everything and everyone. It hurts.”

“Oi donnae t’ink Oi’d like t’ trade places wit’ ye, Silor.” My act is sailing closer and closer to reality. Your madness is driving you ever further onto dry land.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS NEXT==>

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#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #Part 29 of 83 #World of Sea #Written by De Writer

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