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kth1fics · 3 months ago

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I Won't Hurt You (M) | MYG

I Won't Hurt You

● Pairing: Ghostface!Yoongi x Female Reader ● Genre: Horror, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ● Tropes: scream au, pwp, established relationship, slight angst ● WC: 1.7k ● Warnings: party vibes, dark-themes (murder), weapon mention(knife), mentions of blood, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex, does it make sense? No. does it have to? No, etc ● Beta: n/a (i don’t talk to anyone so i have no betas) ● Summary: You find out that your boyfriend is Ghost Face, but he doesn't want to hurt you. ● Author’s Note: Who would have spontaneous sex with their boyfriend after they unalived someone? This fic is completely out of the blue and I love the Scream franchise! Please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! ● Song Recommendation: To The Stage by Asking Alexandria

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

All night, you have been looking for your boyfriend in Namjoon’s house. What started out as a bopping Halloween party soon turned into a ghost town. Even when the place was filled with bodies and costumes it was hard to find Yoongi. Now, you can’t even find a single soul.

It isn’t until you quietly crept up the staircase towards the hallway do you finally find someone.

A shadowed figure crosses through the light in a room. You hesitantly peer into the doorway to see someone wearing a full ghost face costume, looming over the bloody body of Namjoon. The figure swipes the blood clean from a bowie knife as they stare down at his lifeless body.

The scream lodged in your throat doesn’t surface as your hand covers your mouth. You slowly back away from the door but fate has other plans for you as the wooden stair creaks from the weight of your step.

Nerve endings on high alert, you watch as if in slow motion while the stranger turns their head and acknowledges you. Your voice comes forward in a scream as you begin down the stairs, feet stepping as fast as possible while the stranger is fast on your trail.

The heavy push of their body tackles you like a linebacker hitting a quarterback. Swiftly landing you to the ground and pinning you to the floor.

Helplessly you yelp, “Stop! Please, no!”

The ghost face keeps you beneath him as their clothed hand covers your mouth. They pull off their mask and reveal themselves to you, leaving you undoubtedly stunned. It’s your boyfriend, Yoongi.

“I’m going to remove my hand,” he warns with a warm tone. “Please don’t scream.”

Yoongi is straddling your hips as his body keeps you from moving around. He watches the way your eyes shift into fearful tears as he drops his mask to the side.

You nod slowly and Yoongi takes his time pulling away from you. He stands towering over your terrified state with the knife still in his hand. Yoongi waits for you patiently to sit up as you stare at him.

Traces of blood stain the front of your cowgirl costume, transferred from Yoongi’s costume. You were wearing a matching set with Yoongi when you arrived tonight, but the man you look up to now looks completely different from what you remember.

His black hair is disheveled across his face with traces of sweat gathering at his temples. He’s partially out of breath and covered in a stark black gown. There’s a wild, puzzled look to his eyes as he leers down at you.

Fear runs through you forcing yourself to uncontrollably tear up. You can’t run, he’s proven that to you already. You’re stuck right here in front of a murderer. He leans down and tries to console you with a hug but your arms shoot out and reject him.

“Y/n, baby, please –” he hushes, “Don’t cry! It’s okay, I won’t hurt you!” Yoongi’s voice is as soft as he can possibly make it. His hand comes to brush aside a portion of your hair while he continues to speak, “Baby, let me see your face. I can explain.”

Gently, Yoongi manages to pull your arms toward him as he cradles your cheek with his hand. You feel the smooth gloved thumb run across your skin and wipe away the running tears.

You look at him in disbelief as he holds onto you. There’s still the sweet, beautiful, caring man before you. The one you know all too well. His warm eyes remind you of the Yoongi you love, the man you put your full trust into.

“W-why?” Your voice breaks with emotion.

The question could be meant for a multitude of reasons, but he knows exactly which question you are asking. And for an answer he cannot explain simply.

Yoongi stalls momentarily, his mouth hanging open for a split second before closing. He pulls you into a tight hug, “You weren’t supposed to stay here.” Your body stiffens immensely as you feel Yoongi’s arms around you. His chest beats against yours, both your hearts racing erratically. “Jenna was supposed to take you home,” he mumbles into your shoulder.

“I couldn’t find you!” You hiccup with pain in your voice.

His warmth allows your body to relax against his. Your panic allows you to hold onto him tightly as your body shakes with adrenaline. It feels as if your heart is shattering within you as reality settles.

Yoongi pulls away from you so he can look into your glossy eyes as you weep with sadness. His fingers lightly grip your chin and force you to face him. “Baby, I love you. I’ll never ever hurt you, I promise!” He kisses your lips tenderly before pulling you closer.

“I’m so sorry you are in the middle of this,” he murmurs as he kisses you again. “You weren’t supposed to see this stuff. I was trying to protect you.”

Yoongi’s lips follow the length of your neck, leaving warm kisses on your skin as his hands roam your body. He places his bowie knife to the side, away from the two of you while he continues to let his apologies leave his lips.

You allow Yoongi to lay you down on the hardwood floor. He maneuvers to your chest, using his fingers to pull down your cowgirl top and bra enough to release a nipple. His lips attach to your sensitive bud, using his tongue to flick across the fleshy piece until it hardens. Yoongi’s body slots comfortably between your legs as he slithers down your front. He disposes himself of a glove, freeing his digits from the leather fabric just before reaching the hem of your skirt.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips mutter against your lower stomach. His bare fingertips dance along the inside of your thighs while they descend closer to your core, “I love you so much.”

Yoongi looks up at you for confirmation before he continues forward. You nod slowly, reassuringly, for him to know you trust him. Quickly, Yoongi’s face buries and disappears in between your legs. His fingers pull aside whatever panties that are in his way and licks a solid strip up your folds before sliding two of his deft fingers inside of you.

You clench at the sudden intrusion, but it’s a welcoming presence nonetheless. Involuntarily your legs squeeze the sides of his head, hands shooting down to grip the raven black locks atop his head as a lewd moan leaks from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you curse as the back of your head thuds against the floor below you. You tug hard on his hair as your hips buck into his face.

Yoongi frantically picks up the pace with his fingers as his tongue swivels around your clit, lathering the nub with his saliva as he presses knuckles deep into your walls. He leans up from you abruptly, fingers still running a ‘come-hither’ motion inside of you as his parted mouth glistens.

Yoongi fumbles with his belt underneath the ghost face cloak before pulling the blasted cloth off of him, revealing the same cowboy outfit that you match with. He slides back on to you, fingers pulling out of you quickly to shove down his jeans and boxers past his hips to free his hardened cock.

You feel yourself dripping the moment Yoongi removes his fingers. He uses your essence off his fingers and lathers it along his cock before giving it a quick few tugs. Yoongi’s desperate when lining himself up with your entrance, being mindful to pull your panties as far to the side as possible. The moment his cockhead kisses your hole he leans down to connect his mouth to yours.

He pushes into you completely, forcing the two of you to let out a sudden and satisfied moan. Yoongi lifts your leg up to allow a deeper penetration, thrusting slow and deep as he bends you to his will.

“You feel so good, baby –” he hums as his head nuzzles into your neck.

Your fingers curl on his clothes, leaving small scratch marks through the material.

“H-Hold on to me…” Yoongi picks his pace up fast. His hips snap into your body, pulling his cock all the way out just to dive it right back in at full force. The lewd sounds of skin slapping skin struck his ears, your beautiful whines mixed with pleasure fuels his ego. He craves more with every single thrust he puts into you, gradually fucking you harder and faster until your body is shifting across the hardwood flooring.

“Y-yoongi, I’m gonna –” A broken moan interrupts you when his teeth latch onto your neck, leaving a harsh mark that undoubtedly will become a bruise. Your body jolts in his grasp while your eyes screw shut.

“Cum for me,” Yoongi’s voice is laced with lust, a small smile tugging at his lips as he feverishly piles his cock into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he grunts between his words, every thrust stronger than the last. It helps build your orgasm up to the very brim before it snaps, “Cum for me baby, I love you.”

You can’t form a full sentence as his thrusts become more desperate, reverting to you chanting the word ‘yes’ like a mantra as your sweaty body jolts underneath Yoongi’s weight. Your moans grow louder, the heightened sensation in your lower region breaks as your climax washes over you in an exciting rush. Yoongi’s hips began to slam into you. Your cunt clenched around his cock like a vice grip, the flexing muscles spasm inside you squeeze him so tightly it leaves Yoongi gasping.

He groans loudly as he pulls out just in time and comes hot white ropes on top of your panties. Yoongi slowly rocks his hips against your body as his high dies down, his mouth leaving open kisses across your neck until he reaches your mouth.

“Baby,” he huffs. “Look at me.”

You turn to see the mirth in Yoongi’s eyes. Both of you lay there with spinning heads, breath labored, and bodies cooling off.

“I won’t do anything to hurt you,” he sighs. “I’ll never hurt you.”

#i won't hurt you #bangtansorciere #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #yoongi x reader #ghostface!yoongi #ghostface!suga #suga x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi pwp #suga pwp #bts smut #bts pwp #kth1 #yoongi x you

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pep-rambles · 10 months ago

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Lucifer is a Swiftie headcanons because I kin this man so much I am projecting my other hyperfixations on him

But also I mean c'mon,

Look at him

yes there is RadioApple in this

-It probably started from Charlie. When she was in high school (post emo phase obviously) she may have enjoyed Taylor Swift (maybe Fearless got her through her senior year because I can't stop projecting) Lucifer started listening to try and have something to bond with his daughter about. But about the time Charlie kind of lost interest is about the time Lucifer doubled down on his obsession.

-He has been to basically almost every Eras concert, usually in really good seats because many a swiftie has offered to sell their soul for tickets. He said keep your soul just let him tag along.

-He is definitely an Evermore stan mostly because of relating too hard to the divorce narrative of it.

-Speaking of, Charlie has threatened to lock him out of his Spotify after catching him on the floor crying to “Champaign Problems” on repeat too many times. She never would but most definitely tried to ban him from listening to it for a month.

-She then caught him crying to “You’re Loosing Me”

-Angel Dust is most definitely Beyhive (killer bee probably) and though initially joking that they are rivals the two men bond over their love for the two queens of pop, recommending songs and videos to each other.

-Angel is a Reputation Stan though

-After one of Lucifer’s many tiffs with Alastor, Charlie is expressing her frustration asking her dad why can’t they just get along and Lucifer explains that he doesn’t trust Alastor because “I think his ever-present grin is a little troubling” and is a little upset when she doesn’t get it

-One day, Luci is sitting in the Lobby doing his work while listening to Taylor on shuffle. He’s casually minding his own business jamming out to one of her poppier love songs and Alastor wanders in commenting on the “Obnoxious trite little diddy” Lucifer doesn't even hesitate to take the bait

L: HOW DARE YOU! SHE IS A TALENTED GODDESS!! A DOWNRIGHT MUSICAL CHAMELEON! You are such a snob Alastor! Good music didn't stop getting made after your tiny little lifetime.

A: I never said it did but it's certainly not this frivolous noise!

L: Oh, you uninformed uncultured cur! She is a fucking poet!

He then proceeds to play examples for Alastor of her most creative and heart wrenching lyrics (he absolutely makes Al sit through all 10 minutes and 13 seconds of ATW)

After all that though Lucifer will never get Alastor to admit that he finds T.S. musically talented (or that Lucifer did in fact catch Al tapping his foot a couple times)

-Alastor does come to Lucifer, after a bit of research, admitting that though he does not find her music enjoyable, he respects her business cunning. Luci figures that's good enough. For now.

-because I bet my non-existent Eras tour tickets that Lilith was a hater. I’ll leave it at that.

-OP works at Barnes & Noble and let me tell you there are about 80 different Taylor Swift magazines that even my swiftie ass thinks is excessive but Lucifer has every single one

-including the Taylor Swift paper dolls magazine (yes this is a real thing). He probably gets a few because he convinces Charlie to use them as a team building activity.

-He has at least 3 copies of each of the covers for the 2023 TIME Person of the Year magazine.

-Also all cardigans. On a casual day he definitely lounges in them and has a set rotation of when to wear each one (and I am totally not gonna draw that nope)

-Well, it seems Lucifer is no longer crying to the depressing break-up songs on repeat but now he seems to be angrily listening to “Gorgeous” on repeat. Charlie asks him about it and he goes full denial mode “No no Charlie I'm not thinking of anyone specific, I've just been really into this song lately.” Everyone else in the hotel, besides Alastor, has already figured out what's going on

Alastor: If I have to hear that obnoxious noise one more time I will reduce that tiny maniac’s room to rubble as well as the abode of whatever sad sack is making him play it.

Angel: *knowing smirk* I'm gonna hold ya to that one, Antlers.

-Al may very well hear it one more time if Lucifer uses it as his confession song (I don't fully commit to this headcanon, I just think it's funny)

-Anyway boy’s probably in his Reputation stan Era b/c LWYMMD is like his long overdue big F-YOU to Heaven song

btw this is NOT gonna end at these headcanons I am running with this idea like scissors.

@nunalastor

@julsiemagne

@nose-nippin-fun (I know you're not a swiftie but we talked about this so idk if you care I can un-tag you if you want)

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ghastlyfilters · 9 months ago

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SPEAK SOFTLY LOVE

— “WE’RE IN A WORLD, OUR VERY OWN. SHARING A LOVE THAT ONLY FEW HAVE EVER KNOWN.”

pairing; post spray jeremiah valeska x fem!reader

summary; jeremiah takes you to see the first part of one of his favourite film franchises of all time. the godfather. and when you return from seeing such a cinematic masterpiece, jeremiah decides to dance with you to one of the songs from it.

note; HII!! i can’t even explain how excited i am to be writing this. i love the godfather and gotham, so i’m glad the thought came to me. nothing wrong with appreciating my love for both jeremiah valeska and michael corleone;)

also, here’s some of the italian words used in this fic, and what they mean! (if these ain’t accurate just blame google translate)

non smetti mai di sembrare raggiante, tesoro. - you never fail to look radiant, darling.

grazie - thank you.

MASTERLIST

You and Jeremiah panted as you had ran back in the rain to the entry of his hideout. Tonight he’d took you to see one of his favourite cinema classics. The Godfather.

He’d had this planned for AGES. Years even. He knew one day he wanted to share with you the joy he felt in watching such an amazing cinematic masterpiece. And today, he had successfully got what he wanted.

There was tons of abandoned theatres scattered throughout Gotham. But Jeremiah didn’t want to take you somewhere shabby and wrecked. No.

He’d taken you to Gotham’s oldest theatre. A building that had been stood even before the very first time The Godfather came to cinemas. It was high class, and full of money people at all times. The theatre was known for showing tons of classics. So tonight was Jeremiah’s lucky night.

He’d made sure he booked out the whole screening. He didn’t want a soul interrupting any moment he was planning on enjoying with you. Only thing was that because of how high class the theatre was, it would cost a shit load to buy tickets, let alone the whole thing.

Jeremiah made sure the owner knew that money wasn’t everything. Well.. after holding a blade to his throat.

The whole thing went smoothly. And you’d never seen him so happy. He looked more like an excited child rather than a grown man thrilled to see the most loved mafia movie on the big screen.

As the heels of his shoes tapped against the flooring, you heard him softly hum the Godfather waltz. And he did so with nothing but pride.

You sat on the couch, your fingers slowly tracing circles onto the beautiful fabric. Jeremiah always had ways of making you feel so expensive.

“A glass of Chianti, darling?” He called out.

You looked back and nodded as he swiftly poured the Italian wine into a tall crystal glass for you.

Jeremiah carefully strutted over to you, two glasses in his hands. He placed one down in front of you, giving you a kiss on the hand.

“I must say,” He said, sitting down beside you, already motioning for you to move closer. “My expectations for this night with you were perfectly met, my dear.”

Jeremiah put a gloved finger on your cheek, and you practically purred at his touch. He held your waist as you moved into his lap, grinning.

“I suppose now I see why you always used to be so persistent on having that slicked back hair, Don Valeska.” You mocked. You’d known for years Jeremiah took a deep liking to Michael Corleone’s character. You couldn’t blame him, of course. Michael and Jeremiah both shared a great charm.

He rolled his eyes playfully, taking a sip of his wine. He let out a small gasp as an idea struck him. And you furrowed your brows the minute he took you off his lap.

“Miah?” You said, curiosity clear in your voice. He held a finger up, hurrying into another room. You just sighed, wondering what he was planning now.

Jeremiah soon returned, a vinyl in hand. He flashed you a smile, before darting over to the record player. He set it all up, and you started to giggle the minute the song started to play.

Speak Softly Love by Andy Williams. A song that included an instrumental theme used in The Godfather. Which had made the song a true gem to listen to.

He rushed back over to you, and you could see the amount of joy dancing around in his eyes despite the song only just starting.

“Shall we?” Jeremiah grinned, putting his hand out for you.

You accepted it, and he immediately pulled you up. Gracefully, but you could tell he was desperate to finally dance with you to this.

Speak softly, love and hold me warm against your heart..

I feel your words, the tender trembling moments start.

We're in a world, our very own..

Sharing a love that only few have ever known.

Another soft giggle escaped your lips as he directed you to sway around with him. You’d never admitted it, but Jeremiah was an incredible dancer. Always so careful with his partner.

Wine-colored days warmed by the sun..

Deep velvet nights, when we are one.

“Non smetti mai di sembrare raggiante, tesoro.” Jeremiah whispered into your ear. God you loved when he spoke Italian.

“Grazie.” You replied, planting a kiss onto his cheek. However, he redirected your lips. He tilted your chin upward, and soon you felt his own velvety smooth lips brushing against yours.

He put one hand on the back of your head, caressing your hair. He pulled away as the rest of the lyrics played on the vinyl, and the two of you went back to swaying again.

Speak softly, love so no one hears us but the sky..

The vows of love we make will live until we die.

My life is yours and all because..

You came into my world with love, so softly love.

You both waltzed around the room as the strong instrumental part of the song really kicked in. You caught a glimpse of Jeremiah’s face glistening from the moonlit sky outside throughout Gotham.

You’d truly began to admire his new features now. His ghostly white face, red ruby lips, and those icy green eyes..

Some were scared, meanwhile others like his followers found it intriguing. But you.. oh.. you found it hauntingly beautiful.

His change in attitude was also something you were secretly enjoying. Before the spray, Jeremiah had been incredibly shy with showing you affection. His overthinking always crept in, giving him the hint that perhaps you did not feel the same way towards him as he did for you.

Now, he was incredibly bold whilst showing his love for you. And he wanted every single person in the city to see that.

Wine-colored days warmed by the sun..

Deep velvet nights, when we are one.

His gloved hands made their way down your body, cupping your hips. Jeremiah loved your curves. You were so womanly. And it was another part of you he’d always admired.

“This is…” He breathed. “Rather.. exhilarating.”

Speak softly, love so no one hears us but the sky..

The vows of love we make will live until we die.

My life is yours and all because..

You came into my world with love…

“It’s definitely-“

“A night to remember.” Jeremiah cut you off. You dipped down as he hovered above you, his grip tight. He bent toward you, kissing you once again.

So softly love.

THIS WAS LITERALLY SO FUN TO WRITE. either that or it’s the concept of mixing my two favourite interests together. but man i love jeremiah more than anything.

#jeremiah valeska #jeremiah valeska x reader #gotham #jeremiah #x reader #fem!reader #the godfather #fics #the valeska twins #valeska twins #gotham jeremiah #fluff #the godfather 1972 #cameron monaghan #michael corleone #reader #ghastlyfilters #Spotify

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sharpasanaro · 4 months ago

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You know that trending sound with the woman humming into the fan, something slow, maybe mournful? And you know how it’s been sending fanfic writers into a tizzy going, “actually that’s {Insert Character Here} when they were going through {Scenarios}.”

Don’t think about Obi-Wan Kenobi humming Jedi songs of mourning under his breath as he heads to Polis Massa to rendezvous with Yoda and Bail, mourning his brother in all but blood, mourning him in more ways than any one person could count. His brother his friend his son his whole world for an entire ten years his brother in arms his hope for himself and his people is shattered

Obi-Wan singing quietly in the delivery room after Padmé dies, begging the Force for answers, why did she have to go why was it her time why didn’t she tell me did her and Anakin not trust me was this always my fault???

Obi-Wan’s voice finally cracking as he holds the twins together in his arms, the final time he will see them together as children, whispering songs of hope and healing into their soft hair they could have grown up in the Temple they are as strong as their father they need more than I can give them that can’t be given anything more than this why is separation the best option they will never know peace as long as the empire reigns but oh Force what can two Jedi do to stop what an entire Temple could not?

Ben humming for the first time in a decade as he rescues Leia to soothe her to sleep on their way back to Alderaan, finally safe and sound is this to soothe him after having to fight the thing that wears Anakin’s face and speaks with his voice or to comfort a traumatized child welcome home welcome home

Ben singing to Maul after he dies a tragic and wandering soul, forever haunted by a path he never asked to take he joins the Force he is whole at last welcome home welcome home

Old Ben whispering pleasant nonsense while aboard the Millennium Falcon, Han thinks it’s because he’s a crazy desert hermit, but Luke is entranced and can’t explain why the language is Dai Bendu the language of the Jedi the language of the Light the language of the Force the language of his people welcome home welcome home welcome home

Old Ben hears the Force singing aboard the Death Star as he faces Vader one last time, he sees the twins reunited at last, he knows it is his Time

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi finally joins his Order, his people, in the Force, and it sings with Light and so does he

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frozenjokes · 9 months ago

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Etho Really Should Explain Literally Anything To Mumbo, But It’s A Long Story And He Can’t Be Bothered

Mermaids weren’t very loud creatures, not at all. They could be when they wanted; the purpose of song was to be heard after all, but song was a deliberate action, to hunt, to heal, to love.

A mermaid in distress was not loud, per se. Not like humans; yelling, whining, flailing about, no, nothing purposeful, but they did stand out with too-frequent click, click, clicks of a soul that was very lost, that didn’t feel grounded in their environment.

And it wasn’t always obvious, not in the deep. Everyone was clicking all of the time in the deep, the soft rhythm of home. To navigate, to gauge how another was feeling, to keep from running into rocks or homes or gardens or each other- well, they still ran into each other quite a bit, but the point stands.

In places with less mermaids however, it was very obvious when someone was struggling, and this close to the surface, Mumbo could hear telltale mermaid clicks from a mile away. Nine times out of ten, if a mermaid was near the surface Mumbo would be surprised if they weren’t lost, so he kicked away from the gentle current he was riding and made toward the noise.

The clicking heightened as Mumbo neared, then slowed, recognition of another presence. Mumbo was close enough to sense the rapid movement of fins with his own clicks; up and down, up and down, but with unadjusted eyes from spending so long in the deep, he still couldn’t quite see them. Regardless, it was clear that this mermaid was apprehensive about his approach, so he slowed his pace, hoping the stranger would understand he was friendly.

‘Do you need help?’ Mumbo whistled once in earshot, keeping a healthy distance. There was something unnerving about this mermaid that kept him on edge, kept his fins twitching. He just couldn’t- see them. Now, again, he couldn’t see much of anything, but he could understand shapes, especially ones as big as him. And Mumbo knew where the stranger should be; they weren’t exactly moving much and clicking was an accurate measurement of space, but there was no dark blob where he expected one to be. Mumbo squinted, but it was no use.

‘Need to go to the surface. Urgent. Got swept away by the storm,’ the mermaid answered after an uncomfortable pause, and that was odd too. Why were they speaking so stilted? And why did they wait so long to answer? But then Mumbo processed the words, and excitement swallowed his apprehension. The surface? Did this mermaid like to visit the surface as well?

‘That’s where I’m going! I’ll take you.’ Mumbo couldn’t help the soft trill that rose behind his words, diving a little closer as curiosity got the better of him. The stranger’s fins flared briefly, surprise, and Mumbo gave a few amused clicks in return.

‘Really?’ they said, the lilt of the word higher than it should’ve been; a quite endearing expression of excitement, or maybe surprise? Entirely odd- mermaids didn’t usually express themselves in that way. Mumbo wondered where this one was from. ‘Can you take me-’ the mermaid stopped suddenly, frustration twitching through their fins before they flicked their tail, a silent ‘nevermind.’

‘I know a safe place,’ Mumbo tried, hoping that would sate them. Did this mermaid travel the surface or something? Did they name different places they’d explored? Oh, Mumbo longed to know more. ‘Call me Mumbo?’

‘Anywhere there’s land is fine. Call me Ghost’

Ghost! Goodness! ‘Do they call you that because you’re invisible?’ The words were out of his mouth before Mumbo could help himself, but Ghost didn’t seem to mind, an amused chirp bubbling forward.

‘You’ve been deep for a while?’

Mumbo drew into himself in a gentle show of embarrassment. ‘Yes. I like to visit the surface often, but couldn’t for some time. Bad injury. This is my first time back since then.’

Ghost closed the rest of the distance between them, and Mumbo started to see a shape through the water, though not concretely. ‘I’m light colored, different. I won’t stand out where there’s so much sun, not like you do.’ And there was that higher lilt again, almost distorting Ghost’s words to the point of changing their meaning. Why were they doing that? Mumbo could tell their amusement from their body language; was this like- double amused? Maybe it wasn’t amusement at all- Mumbo probably shouldn’t be applying human habits to mermaids, but that was just it. It sounded so human. Had Ghost spent a lot of time around them?

Mumbo didn’t get the chance to ask. Ghost stilled for a moment, a distinctly unnatural, tense movement, before a horrible wheezing sound left their throat, gills flaring so wide Mumbo could sense the spasming through his own distressed clicks, clicking which grew in rapid, panicked frequency. What- What was happening? Ghost made a horrible choking sound, bubbles trailing through their teeth, and Mumbo pressed a frightened hand to their chest, desperate to figure out what was wrong with their gills.

Ghost’s tail whipped against Mumbo’s own in a bruising slam, propelling the other out of reach, but Mumbo couldn’t help but follow closely, unable to understand and longing to help- but how could he? It- it sounded like Ghost was drowning.

And then it stopped. As suddenly as they’d stopped breathing, Ghost started again like nothing was wrong. Like they were just fine.

‘Sorry about that,’ Ghost clicked, fins frighteningly calm for what must have been a terrifying experience. Mumbo’s own fins were flat against his back, wary and afraid, but Ghost didn’t seem the least bit bothered, if anything, just looking a little annoyed. ‘It’s urgent I get to the surface.’

They didn’t elaborate further, and Mumbo couldn’t do much else but stare, a cross between utterly perplexed and extraordinarily frightened. He wanted to ask further, but maybe this was a personal issue-? It would be rude to probe about this mermaid’s health, surely. Maybe it had something to do with their light scales? What if light scaled mermaids needed sunlight to survive? Whatever the case, Mumbo took ‘urgent’ seriously this time, kicking off on a swift pace toward the surface, and was relieved to hear Ghost following close behind.

To Mumbo’s great distress, Ghost had another ‘drowning attack’ around thirty minutes later before they reached the outlet into the river, but they didn’t seem too bothered, so Mumbo tried (and failed) not to worry as well, simply hoping that once they made it to the lake cove, everything would be fine. Honestly, it was a little unnerving how relaxed Ghost was acting for a mer who sounded like they were dying a minute ago (and potentially on a regular basis?), but maybe Mumbo was misreading them. After all, they did have a couple odd mannerisms, and with the sun so bright this close to open air, Mumbo was just as blind as he was in the deep.

He’d forgotten how much the sun hurt when he was away for so long; a real shame, since he had really been looking forward to seeing Ghost. In all fairness, Mumbo hadn’t actually seen many mermaids at all, but for the most part their scales were dark and inky, with traces of color along their fins from a time when mermaids lived in places the light could reach. The idea of a pale colored mermaid was fascinating, and Mumbo was quite keen on seeing them with adjusted eyes.

As the two of them swam down the channel, Mumbo’s thoughts drifted to his humans, a gentle ache in his chest as he wondered if he would ever see them again. He was gone for so long, what if they didn’t think he was coming back? Did they still think about him? Oh, he hoped they were doing well. Grian hadn’t been in a good state.. Mumbo only hoped he’d made the right choice by leaving.

He stopped short as he remembered Ghost; even though Mumbo would be shocked to see his humans at the cove, he should probably give them a heads up regardless.

‘A warning,’ he whistled, and continued when Ghost flicked their fins as an indication they heard, ‘Humans visit my place sometimes. It has been a long time since I’ve been up, and they come to see me, so I doubt they’ll be around, but I thought you should know. They are friendly, in any case. Nothing to worry about.’

Ghost clicked to themself, an indication of quiet thought, though Mumbo was relieved that they didn’t seem too alarmed. ‘Should be out of there before that becomes a problem,’ they mused, ‘But you should be careful. Humans are greedy things. Take advantage of nice mers like you.’

‘No, no, not these. They want to learn about me. I want to learn about them. They’re sweet, they took care of me when my tail was broken. Well. They tried. I’ve brought them back a few things from the deep to show them if they ever return.’

Ghost hummed to themself in quiet thought before whistling, ‘Sentimental,’ and Mumbo wasn’t quite sure if they were referring to him or the humans. Probably true either way.

‘They’re nothing to worry about.’

‘Either way, I’ll be gone.’ Ghost gave a dismissive flick of their fins, and Mumbo pushed away disappointment. He figured if Ghost explored the surface, they’d surely met or at least seen a handful of humans, but they didn’t seem to care at all. Maybe humans were just another animal to Ghost, nothing to write home about. Mumbo couldn’t imagine being so disinterested. Humans made tools- they were engineers! Mumbo couldn’t think of a species more fascinating if he tried.

Regardless, he took them through the inlet that led to the lake, hoping if it was sun that Ghost needed, they would get plenty of it here. It wasn’t easy to keep track of Ghost’s breathing, not when Mumbo couldn’t see, but he did his best to listen, even if Ghost didn’t seem to want any assistance. Mumbo couldn’t help himself. How could anyone? At the very least, if Ghost did start drowning(?) again, they were in shallow enough water that they could surface for air.

Relief swamped Mumbo when they finally broke through to the lake, especially when behind him, it seemed like Ghost was beginning to breathe a bit more shallowly. Mumbo had planned on scouting ahead for his humans, just in case, but Ghost didn’t give him the chance, tearing ahead toward the beach in what Mumbo hoped was excitement.

It was a beautiful day, the water warm in Mumbo’s pleasant little alcove, and just being here after so long lifted his mood, a soft, sighing trill leaving his throat as his tail brushed the sandy shallows. Ghost had already fixed themself at the shore, head almost completely out of the water as they sprawled, fins waving contentedly. Maybe it really was sunlight they needed; Mumbo would be hard pressed to remember a mermaid in his past that looked more relaxed. And they seemed to be breathing well too, perfect.

‘This is a good place, very good,’ Ghost said, though there was something breathy about the whistle, like it wasn’t quite coming out right, ‘I can see where your humans come in and out. That will make things easier for me.’

‘The brush is still pretty flattened, isn’t it,’ Mumbo spoke with a wistful glance toward the path emerging from the woods, though it was far more overgrown than before. Mumbo’s stomach churned as he stared, anxiety hiking up in his chest. It really did look like it had been a while since anyone came through. He blinked, fins flicking as he processed the rest of what Ghost had said. ‘How do you mean?’

Ghost gave a non-committal flick of their tail, the end splashing lazily as it landed back in the water, ‘Don’t worry about it. Long story. Impatient, stupid friend.’ Ghost’s fins twitched irritably at the last sentiment, and kept twitching long after, their mood seeming to sour.

Mumbo would have loved to hear; he had plenty of time after all, but Ghost didn’t look like they wanted to share, so he left well enough alone, leaving them in the shallows to check on his roots and vines. Oh, everything had grown so much! Instantly he was preoccupied, meticulously combing through every plant, pulling up the longest, sturdiest strands, and placing them lengthwise on the shore. Mumbo didn’t know what he was going to do with this yet, but he was sure he could make some really sturdy rope- oh, he was so excited! Ghost seemed to be amused by his antics, keeping a curious eye on Mumbo’s activity. They didn’t ask any questions, a shame since Mumbo would have loved to chat, but oh well, not all mermaids were talkative. He appreciated the company regardless.

Mumbo worked in silence for a good while, humming to himself as he got into a groove. Through squinted eyes, he found a few wildflowers near the shore, and wondered if his humans would like them or if Ghost valued pretty things like he did. Mumbo pulled himself up the short ledge to get a better look, embarking on a grand distraction that took him some ways from the water’s edge in search of different flowers. Mumbo loved color, and he loved finding new colors. Things could get so dull in the water, even outside of the deep, but everything on the surface was so vibrant!

The first few times he had ventured out of the deep, he’d spent hours and hours just looking at himself, the reds and pinks shimmering through his fins so bright and beautiful, especially above the water. In low light, his fins were as black as the rest of his scales, so seeing the sun hit them for the first time was a delightful surprise. If only he didn’t have to wait so long to see the world properly. Truly, the best thing about spending all those weeks on the surface, even injured, was taking in the environment, the color, the everything. There was truly nothing like it in the deep.

Speaking of not being able to see, after accidentally crushing a few flowers, Mumbo forced himself to retreat back to the water. Blind mermaids didn’t get nice things, not after killing a bunch of them.

But after the rippling sound of Mumbo’s re-entrance into the lake subsided, ragged, strained breathing replaced the noise, filling the quiet with Ghost’s sick struggling. Mumbo was at their side in an instant, his fear-raised fins contrasting Ghost’s own, flat against their body and quivering gently. Mumbo’s eyes had adjusted enough to see their pale form, truly devoid of almost all color apart from splotches of salmon pink that painted their fins and skin. Mumbo squinted, alarm lighting his veins when he couldn’t find Ghost’s gills.

‘Space, please. I’m fine,’ they said, extraordinarily unconvincingly, ‘Impatient, stupid friend on their way. Very stupid. Very impatient. Will be here soon. You might want to leave until they’re gone.’ Their whistles and clicks were quiet and weak, similar to the brief moment from before, but much worse, like Ghost was struggling to speak at all.

‘You’re dying. I’m not leaving.’

‘I’m not dying.’

‘You’re dying!’

‘This is normal.’

‘It most certainly is not!’

Ghost hissed pointedly, fins slapping the water with how hard Ghost was flicking them. Incredibly rude, honestly, but given the circumstances, Mumbo was willing to forget it. He just wished this mer wasn’t so damn stubborn.

‘Stupid friend is poor company. Go away.’ Ghost bared their teeth briefly, and Mumbo’s tail tip lashed, splashing in the shallow water. He backed up, giving the requested space, but did not leave. Ghost huffed, but did not try to send him away again.

Mumbo shifted his attention to helping instead, on singing some sort of comfort (a gesture which seemed to annoy Ghost; Mumbo really couldn’t win with this mer, could he), and doing whatever he could that wouldn’t end with him being hissed at. Which is to say, not much. Given his focus, he didn’t notice the distant disturbance from the woods, not until it grew in volume, aggressive and clumsy and steadily getting closer. There was something uncoordinated about the noise as well, snagging and stumbling that set Mumbo’s fins on end, like the thing it belonged to was unfamiliar with the forest, or simply didn’t care. Well- thing. It was quite obviously a human. Nothing else was so loud, so careless.

Mumbo shrank back when the human burst through the clearing, but it didn’t even notice the two mermaids, instead hunching over its knees with heaving breaths, so ragged they almost sounded like growls. Mumbo was entirely tense from fingers to tail tip, fins on end and quivering, while Ghost looked little more than bored, or maybe just pained; it was difficult to tell with fins so lax. This couldn’t be the friend they were talking about, could it? Ghost hadn’t said a word when Mumbo talked of his own human friends; if anything, Ghost had sounded entirely disinterested. Maybe they were too sick to care about a threat in the clearing? Whatever the case, Mumbo would take care of it.

“Got your bloody clothes, Etho, christ, you didn’t make it easy to find you. Couldn’t have gone anywhere else huh?” The human tossed the bag off its back and into the sand, “This is a nice location though, for the future,” it mumbled, “Close to the river. Lots of options.”

It didn’t even look up as it shed some of its clothes, stumbling toward the water with a distinctly unsettling gait, legs shaking violently- was it sick? Either way, Mumbo didn’t want it anywhere near him. Mumbo spat a long, rattling hiss, satisfied as the human fell back into the sand, eyes wide enough for Mumbo to see in his half-blind state. It was a similar size as Grian, smaller without most of its clothes, with long, almost matted looking hair. Beside him, Ghost made an odd noise, almost reminiscent of a human laugh. Clearly they were getting sicker by the moment, no, no, Mumbo wouldn’t let this human anywhere near them, not when they couldn’t defend themself.

“Etho!” the human squeaked, shuffling back on uncoordinated limbs, “Who is this? Tell ‘im off! Tell ‘im off!” Something like slits across its neck and chest flared, reminiscent of gills. Odd jewelry, maybe? Did human paint move across their bodies? Well, regardless, Mumbo did not appreciate being yelled at, so he snaked closer to the water’s edge, rearing up with another defensive hiss.

‘Sorry, no speak- ah- human?’ Ghost whistled, rolling over somewhat pathetically, and the human screeched, kicking up sand in Mumbo’s direction, which, honestly, not a great choice.

“Not funny! Not funny!”

“Maybe not,” Ghost spoke in human, and Mumbo nearly jumped out of his skin, reeling on them with wide eyes, “But I do wish someone would bite you.” They paused, turning back to Mumbo, ‘Don’t bite it, please.’

‘IT?!’ The human whistled, outraged, but it didn’t whistle like a human, instead sounding just like a mermaid, clicks and all, though similarly to Ghost, it expressed its emotions in speech, which- maybe that made sense, given it had no fins to emote with. Still, the surprise was enough to send Mumbo jumping back a few paces, whirling from Ghost to the human and back again in wild confusion.

Ghost rolled their eyes, a frighteningly human mannerism, before giving a small wave of their tail, ‘Probably should’ve given you a better warning. Didn’t know how to explain, and they started the switch sooner than I thought. Too soon, clearly, they’re a damn mess. Should’ve been in the water ages ago. By the time you left the woods, it was a bit late, and obviously, I’m not well.’ Where the human’s whistle was strong and clear, Ghost’s seemed breathy and strained, like it was getting harder and harder to force the noise from their throat. And- wait a minute, their eyes weren’t right either. Something changed. Ghost spoke again before Mumbo could continue that thought, ‘Let them into the water, please. It will help both of us.’

“Stop talking so fast,” the human snapped irritably, “I can’t understand you.”

“I’m not talking to you,” Ghost bit back in human once more, but they didn’t look nearly as unhappy as they were before, fins only twitching absently. “Come on. Get in the water, they’ll let you now.”

The human looked skeptical, but even seated in the sand it was still shaking, and while Mumbo didn’t particularly want it anywhere close, Ghost had sounded decisive..? Mumbo carefully pulled away, keeping toward Ghost and hoping the human would respect his space. It seemed to understand, getting to its feet on legs that barely held its weight, then stumbling to the water line and falling in. Ghost made that odd half-laugh sound again, and seemed to relax a little, releasing a long breath.

The human rolled over in the water, looking similarly relieved. “Did you tell your new friend anything, or are they completely in the dark?”

Ghost shrugged, noncommittal, “Not really. Never going to see them again, so I didn’t see a point.”

“That’s mean,” the human snickered, its mood seeming to switch entirely. “So what, you’re going gonna blow their mind and leave them to think about it for the rest of their life, completely clueless? Do you think years from now they’ll doubt it even happened? Think they dreamed it? No one will believe them.” The human suddenly cackled, a bit of a crazed noise that made Mumbo shrink away. It looked directly at him and sneered, “No one will believe you,” then stopped short, turning back to Ghost, “Etho! Tell them no one will believe them. Do it for me.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Do it!”

“No.”

“Do it!”

“No.”

“Do it!”

Ghost didn't answer, rolling over to face away from both Mumbo and the human, something like mild amusement waving through their fins which- wait, since when had their fins gotten so small? But his thoughts didn’t linger there for long, most of his brain still straining to remember the human words he had learned. He was sure the two of them were talking about him, they must be, but they also must be using a different pronoun- when Ghost learned human, did they make a separate pronoun in the human language for mermaids? Why? While he had about a thousand questions, it seemed difficult for Ghost to speak at this point, so for now he wanted to focus on language, or at least on trying to understand anything the two of them were saying.

‘What do you call me? My humans call me-‘ Mumbo paused, steeling himself. It had been a while since he’d spoken like this. “He.”

Ghost was silent for a moment, giving Mumbo a curious look over their shoulder before laying their head back in the sand, still weak. ‘We call you,’ Ghost stopped, switching to human, “They. Them. He-“ ‘-implies a concept that does not exist for us. You will not understand. Has to do with human reproduction. Kind of. It is unnecessarily complicated. Do yourself a favor and don’t worry about it.’

‘I like human things. You can call me-‘ “-He.”

For some reason, the human found this incredibly funny, cackling to itself from the other side of the beach, but Ghost didn’t seem to care, only waving their tail (was it shorter?) in a lazy gesture. “You heard him.”

“I like this mermaid. You think I could lure him back home? Oh, I’d love to have two. Keep him as a little guard dog, have him eat anyone that steps foot on my island. Oh- or- Well, I don’t think I could split my soul again, but it would be nice to have options. Maybe he’d complain less. Or maybe he wouldn’t swim all the way out to sea on days we’re meant to switch back, yeah?”

Ghost bristled, looking angry for the first time since the human arrived, and Mumbo’s fins rose in turn. “No. You’re stuck with me. And that was your fault anyway, you seem to forget that when you blackout drunk, I also blackout. I didn’t know where the hell I was when I woke up. He brought me here. Please, I’d hate to subject anyone else to dealing with you like I have to.” Mumbo struggled to read their tone, unable to parse the bitterness in the beginning from the last sentiment that almost sounded like a joke, too exaggerated. It was difficult to tell if Ghost was genuinely angry or not.

But the human ignored them, turning instead to address Mumbo, ‘Do you come here often?’

Faster than Mumbo could process the question, Ghost snatched at Mumbo’s arm, and while Mumbo yanked away with a hiss, Ghost was not deterred, grabbing again despite their weakness and not flinching when Mumbo snapped forward in a warning feint. Instead, they pushed Mumbo’s hand to their chest at a spot where the skin was split by a massive scar. Surprise stopped Mumbo in his tracks- he hadn’t seen any scars across Ghost’s body, the colors too difficult to differentiate in his state of poor eyesight, but now that he knew it was there, he could just make out the difference. The scar extended above and below where his hand sat on their chest, all the way past Ghost’s eye and down to the midsection of their tail. It wasn’t thin either, jutting particularly badly across their stomach- how had Ghost even survived an injury that severe?

Ghost looked directly at him when they spoke, unwavering, ‘It did that. Dangerous human. Stay away.’

“I did not!” the human shrieked, then seemed to realize a bit too late it had spoken in the wrong language, ‘I healed it! I saved them!-‘ “-Come on, Etho! What’re you doing that for!? And here I thought you liked to have a little fun sometimes. You’re not still mad, surely not, you like the life you’ve carved out for yourself on land. Is a little inconvenience still worse than being dead to you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Is it not? Would you really put a price tag on your life, Etho? From where I’m standing, our deal was perfectly fair.”

Ghost grunted. “I didn’t get a choice.”

“You agreed! You shook my hand!”

“Why are you dredging this back up,” Ghost frowned, something like a growl leaving their throat, “I don’t care how many times you repeat yourself, you will never get me to say that choosing between my life and your ‘deal’ was fair. I’m past it. It’s time for you to let it go.”

The human quieted, something conflicted crossing its face before it looked away, grabbing fistfuls of sand in the water. For the first time since it arrived at the beach, it spoke without an edge. “But I want you to. I want you to be okay with it.”

Ghost was silent for a long moment, but there was nothing bitter behind their next words; honestly, there wasn’t any emotion at all. “I know.”

Mumbo didn’t know what to do. In all honesty, the human was looking very biteable right now, but Ghost had asked him not to, and maybe whatever they were arguing about was a ‘them’ issue anyway. If Ghost wanted to, they could probably bite the human themself, no need for Mumbo’s input.

But he didn’t get to think about it much longer, not before both the human and Ghost fell back almost limply, shallow, harsh breaths leaving Ghost’s lips, while the human groaned.

And then something split, Ghost’s tail, cracking apart with an awful squelching pull, their scales melting and dissolving like bone against magma. Mumbo reared back, blind fear lifting most of his body from the water before flying in the other direction. He choked on segmented hiss, and the human cackled, any hints of softness to its voice dead, replaced by vindictive edges. Had it done that to Ghost- did Ghost know? What- Was Ghost even a mermaid at all? Was this some sort of trick?

Terror sent Mumbo rocketing into deeper water, distressed by how little space he had to retreat. The lake wasn’t small, but it wasn’t endless either, not like the ocean; Mumbo couldn’t just swim away forever. He needed to hide. There was a nook a tad deeper into the lake where Mumbo typically stored his things, so he pushed himself down, holing up until he was too far to hear anything from the cove at all. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong with both of them. Mumbo struggled to catch his breath, unable to shake the image from his mind. He had never wanted two beings so gone from his place at the beach- Mumbo had always imagined sharing it with others, making a real home out of his little cove, but suddenly, nothing was more terrifying than a stranger. Betrayal burned through his blood just as hot as terror. If that human was so dangerous, why did Ghost call it a friend in the first place? Why did they bring it to his safe space- actually, how did the human find them at all?

Mumbo wasn’t sure how long he spent tucked away at the bottom of the lake. He was too big to completely fit in the rocky nook, but the mud at the bottom of the lake blended well with his scales, so he sat mostly obscured and stared up at the surface, head and parts of his tail poking out among the mud. Just.. waiting for something to happen. For Ghost, whatever they were, to leave, and for their human friend(?) to take its things and go as well, and to never see them again. Not in his cove, no. Not where he was supposed to be safe.

There was no movement for so long, Mumbo wondered if he’d missed Ghost leaving. If he had failed to spot them, though, it seemed unlikely with the improvements in his eyesight since he and Ghost had first met.

More likely, Ghost had never left the cove. Mumbo couldn’t see how they wouldn’t be dead, not with splitting tails and melting scales. They were so sick, the human too- Had they both died? It turned Mumbo’s stomach to think there were two corpses on his beach, rotting in the sun. What would he do with them? He certainly wouldn’t want his humans to find them. (But maybe that was the best case scenario. They couldn’t threaten his space if they were dead.)

And then there was movement, a large disturbance in the water followed by an even larger mermaid, the dark shape that was distinctly not Ghost.

They moved slowly, languid through the water, scanning the area with narrowed eyes, clicking soft and curious as they moved. Mumbo forced himself to be completely still, completely quiet. They were looking for him, he was sure of it, dark eyes raking malevolently across the lake floor. He didn’t know what it was about this mermaid that was so wrong, that made him so afraid, so sure they meant him harm, but Mumbo wasn’t about to question his gut feeling, not when he was so petrified.

To his great relief, the mermaid did not linger for very long, kicking off in the direction of the river after only a few more minutes of lazy drifting.

But even after Not-Ghost was long gone, Mumbo did not surface. He did not want to know what was on his shores. He did not want to see any more creatures of the sun.

…

Scar stood, hunched over his desk with his mouth agape, unable to shut it, but equally unable to say any words at all. That was Etho. His friend Etho. On his trail cameras. Walking away after growing legs.

“What the fuck.” Grian said, slotted below him in Scar’s desk chair, eyes equally wide. Yeah. That about summed it up.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #mumbo jumbo #ethoslab #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft fic #mumbomaid au

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themultifandomgal · 2 months ago

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From 2010- New Beginnings

Part 53

2016

13th January

“How do you feel?” Emma asks my on the phone while I sit petting Cookie

“I honestly thought I’d be alright about this hiatus, I kinda am, but I guess I’m just now realising that that’s it. The only way I can explain it is that it’s like when you break up with someone”

“I just want to come over and give you a huge hug” Emma sounds like she’s about to cry

“I’ll be fine don’t worry. Soon I’ll have my album out and I’ll be going on tour with Justin soon”

“Have you spoken to the boys?”

“Yeah I have. They’re all enjoying their break. Miss them like mad though” anyway enough about me. How are you and Olivia doing?”

“We’re doing good” I can just imagine the massive smile on her face “I really think I’m in love YN”

“I’m so happy for you em”

“Thank you and you know Olivia has a brother who’s single…” I laugh at her knowing part of her is just teasing me, but I know how much she would actually love for us to related, even just through marriage

“I think I’m good for now Em. My heads a bit of a mess if I’m honest”

“Why?”

“Ugh” I flop on to my back on my bed “you can not tell a soul”

“I won’t”

“Harry and I erm… well you know we….”

“Oh my god you slept together!”

“Shhhh” I hush her

“It’s ok Olivia’s out. Tell me when, how, where, wait no I don’t want to know where. Just spill”

“Fine. Well he came over New Year’s Eve and we had a few drinks. We kisses at midnight and one thing lead to another and…”

“I thought he was dating Kendal Jenner?”

“Yeah well not really. It’s publicly, Harry promised me that. But now I keep thinking about him”

“So after your little rendezvous, what happened?”

“We fell asleep then the next morning we had breakfast together and said that it was a sper of the moment kinda thing and we’re better as friends”

“But you want to be more than friends?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. I feel so lost right now Emma” I sigh fighting back tears

“Things will be better soon, you’ll see. And anyway for going on tour with Justin Bieber. Who knows what could happen”

“Stop” I feel myself blush. Yeah Justin’s cute, but I don’t think I need that right now “I best get myself to sleep. I’m off to the studio in the morning to finish up some songs”

“Ok. Good night YN, remember what I said things will get better”

“I know. Night Emma” I end the phone call and place my phone on my nightstand. Cookie moves to snuggle into me more. Sighing I look up to the ceiling. I really hope Emma is right and my head stops being a mess.

Just as I start to drift off my phone rings again. Frowning I pick it up thinking that Emma is calling again because she forgot to tell me something. However instead of Emma’s name across the screen it’s Harry’s. I quickly answer it smiling to myself

“Hey”

“Hey” he’s soothing voice replies “I know it’s late, but I wrote a song for you”

“Oh” I say intrigued

“I wrote it a while ago. I want you to have it, put it on your album”

“H, I can’t. That’s your song”

“Na it will sound better from you. I’ll voice note it over to you. Just think about it… please”

“Ok. Thanks Harry. Speak soon”

“Goodnight love” I wait for a few moment for Harry to send over the song and upon hearing it. I’m in love!

But it gets me thinking, he wrote this song for me? Did he write it while I was dating Liam? I have so many questions.

26th February

4th April

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles #6th one direction member #one direction x reader #sixth one direction member #one direction

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gotham-ruaidh · 10 months ago

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Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart

New York City ||| September 1988

I was standing You were there Two worlds collided And they could never tear us apart…

- “Never Tear Us Apart”, INXS (1988) [click here to listen]

~~~~~

The taxi glided to a stop in front of the Plaza Hotel. A bellman opened the door before the passenger finished paying the driver. With a quick thanks the passenger exited the taxi, squinting in the early afternoon sunshine, nodding a hello at the bellman and his top hat.

Quietly the man entered the hotel and crossed the lobby.

“Hello,” he greeted the woman standing behind the Guest Services desk. “I’m here to see Colum Laird.”

“Certainly. Your name, sir?”

The man pulled a business card from the breast pocket of his blazer.

Raymond Germain, MD

Private Counseling

New York City

“One moment, please.” The woman dialed a string of digits, speaking softly into the phone.

Raymond waited, glancing around the lobby. A cluster of photographers sat, bored, around a side table. Several young men and women with spiky hair and leather jackets stood in another corner, some clutching record albums and permanent markers. Two women in low cut dresses primped in front of their hand mirrors.

“Dr. Germain? Mr. Laird is ready to see you. Please follow my colleague.”

A man, dressed in a smart suit, appeared seemingly out of the wall. “Right this way, sir.”

Raymond followed him across the lobby, through a set of double doors marked STAFF ONLY, and into an elevator bank.

“The band has booked the entire northwest corner of the sixteenth floor,” the man explained. “It’s configured in such a way to provide total privacy. This elevator is the only way to get up there.”

“I see.” Raymond shifted on his feet, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “How long have they been staying here?”

The elevator arrived, and the man gestured for Raymond to enter. “Three nights so far. From what I understand, they’ve played two sellouts at Madison Square Garden. With the final show tonight.”

The man pressed 16, and the doors slid shut.

“How have they been as guests?”

The man smiled. “It’s hotel policy to not comment on any guest who stays here. But what I will tell you, is that it’s much more sedate than the last time they stayed with us, in ’86. The entire fifteenth floor had to be re-carpeted.”

The doors opened onto a hallway. A short, middle-aged man with shoulder-length graying hair stood in the elevator lobby. A dozen doors trailed away in the corridor behind him.

“Dr. Germain.” He extended a hand in greeting. “Welcome.”

“Mr. Laird. Colum. Call me Raymond, please. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The elevator doors slid shut, leaving Colum and Raymond in the hallway.

“Well, Raymond – thank you for coming. I know getting up here is a bit unorthodox – but it’s the only way to ensure total privacy. Things have been a bit of a zoo this summer.”

Raymond smiled kindly. “I truly can’t imagine.”

Colum sighed, wiping his eyes. “Fortunately it’s been a bit of a quiet morning. The band and the crew are pretty exhausted.”

A crash from behind the closest door. Followed by a man’s voice, and a woman’s high-pitched giggle.

Colum smiled tightly. “Pay no attention to Angus. His only vice is women - he’s had a menage-a-trois going all tour.”

“I see,” Raymond remarked quietly. Not quite seeing at all.

Colum coughed. “Anyway, let me take you down the hall. They’re waiting.”

Dougal MacKenzie had not provided many specifics about Jamie and Claire Fraser. The broad strokes, of course – that both had been patients at The Ridge last year; that his addictions were alcohol and cocaine and women and hers were pills; that they had been married less than two months. That she was a surgeon.

Oh, and that he was the singer, guitarist, and chief songwriter of just about the biggest rock band in the world.

Raymond hadn’t a clue about Jamie’s music. But Dougal had said it wouldn’t matter. And in more than ten years of knowing each other, Dougal had proved to have impeccable instincts.

Colum knocked on the final door in the hallway. Muffled voices – and then a beautiful woman opened the door.

“You must be Dr. Germain.” She extended a warm hand in greeting. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Claire Fraser.”

Raymond took her hand between both of his. “Raymond. And the pleasure is all mine, Dr. Fraser.”

She smiled kindly, surprised. “Claire, please.” She tilted her head, just a bit. “Have we met before?”

Raymond returned her smile. “I don’t think so. I’m sure I would remember.”

Colum quietly stepped away and padded down the hallway.

Claire gestured behind her. “Please do come in.”

to be continued…

#outlander #outlander fanfic #little bit better than i used to be #jamie and claire

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gretavanfleetposts · 1 year ago

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Fire in the Water: Chapter Ten - Part Two

Author's Note: I cannot believe the end is already here. The end of this chapter is very inspired by the song Better by SYML so give that a listen if you want to dive further into my brain. And thank you, thank you all for coming along on the journey with me. It has meant everything to me! And as always, thank you to @gretasmokerising and @earthlysorrows for everything Content Warnings: swearing, talk of the afterlife, death, talk of dead souls, killing (someone straight up turns to dust), penetrative sex (18+ minors do not interact) Word Count: 9.5k

It wasn't easy. You spent days sitting almost completely still in Jake's bed trying to decipher who in the room around you was there in physical form and who was a dead spirit walking. You spent your days tired as your physical form wasn't used to being, well, alive. You weren't meant for the world you were now in and it took its toll.

But even more difficult was the anger growing in your body like wildfire that would catch the moment you bound to Jake and your gifts returned. It was the reason you hadn't yet done it. You knew however much you struggled now, it would be nothing compared to that. And it scared you.

Jake was by your side every instant but without his own gifts, he was punished to sit at your side helplessly, watching the torment flare in your eyes and only ever being able to tell you who was in the corner, if anyone was there at all. It pained him being unable to put you out of your misery and you could guess that it pained him to be unable to put himself out of his misery too.

It was days that you spent wandering around his house silently, trying to remember who you had been, trying to decipher the things around you and the things inside of you. Days you spent trying to piece together memories with Jake’s help, though he couldn’t fill very many gaps for you given the stubbornness you’d lived with the first time you’d been alive. And the longer the days went on, the clearer it became to both of you, although it went unsaid: Sam was the one better suited to help you navigate the situation you now found yourself in. Sam could have given you more answers and more details of your life. Sam could have shut the voices up and cleared the room of all intruders.

The others kept their distance all the while, other than Josh. He was more than happy to recant your relationship and the months you had spent together before your meeting any of the others. His presence alone had warmed you, too, but when he left, the angry voices returned with a vengeance. You were forever connected to a world that you now didn't reside in, stuck in a world that you didn't belong to, and a bridge between the two for all things, evil and vile and sometimes, when you were lucky, benevolent, to pass through.

Endless. It was endless.

Until you overheard the twins speaking in low voices from just beyond Jake's French doors after a particularly bad day that you had spent sleeping through most of, intermittently waking with a scream as a breath that was cold and dead fanned over your face.

Endless.

“I called Sam,” you heard Josh say softly to his brother.

“What the fuck, Josh?”

Jake seemed to forget he was supposed to be quiet and his brother shushed him before explaining himself.

“He has a right to know. She has a right to see him. He was the last person she was with, Jake.”

“She isn't ready.”

“She needs him right now,” Josh answered, hushed but urgent. “We both know it. He was the one who taught her how to be a vampire. He's the one she needs now.”

“Don't you fucking say that. Please don't fucking-don't say that.”

Jake's voice cracked and you could hear the instant sigh it pulled from his twin, just as harrowed as Jake was when he let his brother see it.

“Jake, you're never going to lose me, no matter what. And no matter what happens, I will help you get through it. But you can't put this off. She is hurting and I can’t watch it go on much longer.”

“I can't do it.”

Those words chiseled away at you as did the voice that had squeaked out and said them.

“You promised me you would give her the choice. Rebecca is itching to leave. We need to do this now.”

“Josh, I-”

“I won't let you fall apart. But you have to trust me.”

You waited for one of them to speak again but a silence fell between them both for what felt like a long moment. It carried over to you as you contemplated your own feelings. You were angry with Jake over what he had done. It was undeniable and it was growing fierce inside you. But had the roles been reversed, you would have done the same thing.

Finally you watched the doors open and shut behind them both as each twin made their way over to where you sat in Jake's bed. But Jake seemed to distance himself in a way that Josh didn’t. Josh met you where you sat, standing at the end of the bed with a singular hand coming to grab the top of your foot where it rested beneath the covers. He’d formed a habit of giving you a physical cue that he was there in the flesh over the past few days you’d spent reaching for things that weren’t actually there.

Jake, on the other hand, propped himself up against the wall opposite his bed like he was afraid to get any closer. He seemed to be preparing himself for the hurt he must have suspected he would find in the conversation. And you understood that physical distance. It was an emotional wall he was already building.

But even so, Jake was the one to speak first despite the fact that his feet planted him farther away than Josh's did.

“We…we need to talk,” he began slowly.

He struggled to even say it. He struggled to even meet your eyes. And when he did speak, you could tell he was reluctant.

"Rebecca can break the tie," he whispered.

Maybe he hoped you wouldn't hear it.

You sat still for a moment before adjusting yourself and pulling your body into a more upright position, your eyes studying Jake's face all the while.

"What would happen to you?" you asked.

"It would be as if I'd never formed it. For the both of us. And our gifts would be restored."

Your eyes flickered over to Josh quickly before falling to your lap.

To break your tie. It would at least put Jake out of his misery, although you could see the damage it would do before you'd even done it. It practically sat in the room with you, like heavy, judgmental eyes casting shadows over everything.

"You would choose this?" you pressed, and Jake immediately shook his head.

"No. But it's not my choice to make; it's yours.”

His eyes sent a scalding glare toward the back of Josh's head who came to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, his hand now lying flat over yours.

"It isn't either of us that you would pick,” he said softly. “I think we all see that now.”

God, you had ached for Sam. You had tried not to dwell on it but it had become so obvious that even Jake felt it as you sat silently day after day. You burned for him. You needed him. And you were angry with yourself for all of it because the pain that wrote itself onto Jake’s features as his brother said it felt worse than the nightmare you now lived.

“How is she able to do it?”

“You died tied but unbound,” Jake answered, still not meeting your eyes. “Rebecca wasn't even sure we'd still be tied when you returned but seeing as I still don't have my gifts…”

“The tie is weaker now,” Josh continued where his brother left off. “It's vampire magic, apparently. And you're not entirely vampire anymore, are you?”

You weren't. You were even more of an abomination now and your fingers twitched with anger when you let your mind linger on it for too long.

“You keep resurrecting something that's supposed to be dead,” you whispered, keeping your eyes to your lap.

Although you hardly needed to have been staring at Jake to feel the weight of your words and what they did to him. Even Josh seemed to feel it given the way he glanced backward sympathetically at his brother before moving his eyes back to you.

He dipped his face down to try and catch your eyes. “If you bind with Jake, you'll live a happy life. Break it, and you can have whatever it is you want.” And then he sighed and pursed his lips. “We were wrong for trying to put you in a box before. No one is trying to do that now. The decision is yours and yours alone.”

He made it seem so easy when he said it that way, like it was a simple decision and all you had to do was reach out and pick a hand. The reality would be much more complicated, however, because by choosing one, you would give up the other. And if you were destined to walk the earth again, subjected to all that that now encompassed, the question was: who could you no longer live without?

"Can I speak with Jake alone please?” you asked Josh quietly.

He nodded quickly. “Yeah, absolutely. If you need me just…come find me. I'll be close.”

With a single squeeze to your hand, he left silently, pulling the doors shut with only a glance toward his brother before he was out of sight. And in his absence, you pulled yourself from Jake's bed, feet wobbling a little as you gained your balance.

Jake met your eyes silently, watching you stand and pull together what little strength you had left. And he looked just as beaten down as you felt.

“He tried to take himself after. Sam did. When you were…gone, he turned it in on himself but Cassius stopped him. I didn't understand why but maybe I do now. Cassius doesn't play short games.”

The replaying of the memory you didn't want burned into your mind ignited an anger within you, the likes of which you hadn't felt before. It came on suddenly but burned hot in your palms and in your ears.

“Why couldn't you just let me die a natural death? Why couldn't you just let me stay dead?” Your voice was quiet and calm but your fists clenched hard to reel yourself in before you unraveled.

Jake shook his head hard and swallowed, like he was mad at himself or maybe remembering someone else who had accused him of such atrocities.

“I'm selfish,” he whispered so lightly, even with your super hearing you barely hear it.

You were silent but it wasn’t your silence that put Jake on edge. It was your stillness. Your calm. It was somehow scarier to him than your anger. Much more resigned. It was like you had already chosen what it was you wanted.

“Tell me what you're feeling,” he pleaded quietly.

“I don't know,” you answered flatly.

“Don't hide from me-”

“I said I don't know!” you suddenly boomed. And when you glowered at him, he saw a darkness there that he had never seen before, a remnant of something he could never even understand.

“I feel different! I feel things for you that I don't trust! I feel like an abomination! Like-like a rag doll being jerked around by the will of others! I feel empty and I feel a hole in the middle of my chest knowing that Sam is gone and I feel so ashamed to stand here and tell you that he is the only one who makes me feel like I'm not just some grotesque product of your inability to let me go. He's the only one who makes me feel like I am something other than the consequences of your grief.”

His face sank and you could tell you had hurt him in a way that he had never really experienced before. If he'd had his gifts, he might have shielded himself from it. But this way, he had no choice but to feel it. He had no choice but to bleed out in front of you. And it gnawed at you to know that you were the cause, truthful as you had been.

“Then you should be with him. You should,” he said finally, clearing his throat to hide the way his voice threatened to break. “Because I will never be able to let you die. I will never be able to let you go willingly. Never.”

“No, you won't,” you answered meanly. “You couldn't even do it when we weren't tied.”

He shook his head, practically scoffing in frustration and incredulity.

“How could you have asked that of me?”

“It was peaceful, Jake!” you screamed back, your own voice hoarse and losing its tenacity. “I was at peace! He gave me that! And you ripped it from me so violently so that you didn't have to feel it! You feel everything and you face nothing!”

His face seemed to harden instantly.

“You're right,” he agreed, “Sam did something I never would have been able to do, not really. Not if I could have felt it.”

You said nothing but you felt the sigh as your lungs pulled it up and out of your body. It was an endless fight. He would never understand what he had done. He would never understand the things that had drawn you to Sam as you had gotten to know him. Jake had always been right out in front of you but Sam? Sam had always been at your back, practically holding you up as you went about life and navigated things that scared you, even when the thing that scared you was yourself.

“You know, I've held you dead in my arms twice now. I didn't think anything could ever hurt me like that again. But this? This somehow feels even worse.”

“That's not fair,” you whispered through clenched teeth. “I did that for you. I died for you. And I would do it a million times over if I had to.”

His eyes fell shut and he breathed deeply before opening them again to face you and the mess he had helped create.

“But you still wouldn't choose me,” was all he said.

You felt your anger turn to guilt so quickly it could have given you whiplash. And it rendered you speechless under his eyes.

“Josh was right. I have no business keeping you here, not like this. You're not mine to have,” he whispered.

You resisted the urge to turn away from him and cry. Actually, you resisted the urge to cry altogether. There was nothing to cry over. There was no reason the two of you had to torment one another any longer.

“You'll let me go?” you asked quietly, the calm returning to your voice even as your shoulders and body wanted to shake from the sudden cold you felt.

“Yes,” he answered just as calmly. “I won't condemn you to a life you don't want any more than I already have.”

It practically broke you in two and yet still, you fought the sobs that begged to wrack at your body.

The truth was, you did still love Jake. That was the trouble of it all.

He took a step forward finally, meeting you finally, and let his hands raise to grasp at your biceps.

“But I want you to know that even when it's over and the tie is broken, I'll still feel it. My body will remember it. And if you ever want to feel it again,” he sighed as you choked on a sob between his hands, “you need only ask.”

You felt the dam break as you pulled each other into a tight hug, one that didn't hide the anger you felt toward one another but one that made you realize the anger paled in comparison to the love that existed between you, despite the irreparable damage that had been done.

And there, in his hands, you fell apart just a little.

—

When you left Jake to his thoughts in the guesthouse, you found Josh outside at the treeline, staring out into the cold dark space between trees that had been growing tall for decades.

“There's someone in the greenhouse for you,” he said as you met him silently at his side.

You glanced back at the glass structure, the place you'd been carefully avoiding while fighting your own demons right under Jake's nose.

“One more loose end to tie up,” he added as he smiled softly over at you.

You didn’t need to ask. You knew who was waiting for you. And you knew you had Josh to thank for making that happen. Josh was the one who had done everything simply for you in the end. You saw that much better now. He loved you in a way you couldn’t quite comprehend and maybe never would. But what you did know was that you loved him back.

“Thank you,” you breathed out into the silence of the night air, earning a surprised look from the twin you had originally set out to start your life with before things had taken the turn that they had.

“For what?” he asked gently.

“For being you.”

He chuckled softly to himself but there was hardly any humor in it.

“I hope you don't regret letting me into your life. Genuinely.”

“Oh Josh,” you sighed with a simple shake of your head, “I could never regret loving you.”

He turned to pull you into an embrace, one you would remember for the rest of eternity, hopefully even after. At least the safety of his arms never changed. Josh was the most steadfast thing you knew. And despite everything that had happened in the time you'd known him, you knew you would do it all over again just to be with him one more time.

When you pulled away to avoid whatever breakdown would have come rather easily in his arms, he gave you that toothy grin that always soothed you.

“I'll take care of him,” he said unprompted. “I'm his twin, I've always carried a piece of his soul with me. We stitch each other back together. That's what we do.”

You gave him a gentle nod before you turned toward the greenhouse.

Jake was better off in his hands than yours anyway.

The lights in the greenhouse twinkled their usual star-like light, having been restrung so delicately around plants that had been repotted and glass that had been cleaned. It was a much more gentle reminder of how long you'd been gone.

And despite the things you had remembered him doing in the previous days, the whispers in your ears seemed to fade away when you saw him step out of the darkness and into those twinkling lights casting a golden glow on his high cheekbones and droopy brown eyes.

"Josh told me you were alive but I needed to see it for myself."

God, you had even missed his voice.

"Where have you been?" you asked him, resisting the immediate urge to run and jump into his arms.

"Traveling," was all he said.

"Traveling,” you scoffed. “I need a real answer.”

“I knew Jake was hunting down Rebecca. I was planning on ending things but Josh convinced me to wait. He had hope. I decided it was better that I kept my distance in the meantime.”

He took a step closer and you could see he looked just as desolate as the twins did. Just as tired as Jake did. Maybe moreso.

“I can hear what he's done to you,” he whispered. “I can hear the things that haunt you. Even if you don’t want me around anymore, I can help you. Only if you want.”

Fuck, he made it so hard. You deserved your answers, of course. You deserved to know why he had done what he had. But goddamnit, you wanted to beg him to touch you, to reach into your mind and hold things together the way you never seemed to be able to.

But instead of letting yourself long for him too desperately, you took your moment to question him instead, while you had him there. And you tried to remember your anger.

“You sold out your own brother. How could you have done that?"

"I had made a deal with Cassius. I was so careful. I was listening to him every step of the way. Every thought until just before you…”

You only stared at him as he trailed off into silence, studying you. It was the first time he'd seen you alive in longer than Jake had and it felt so unfair that they had kept him from you even for that long. You were both thinking it. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to see that.

“I never even heard it,” he started again when he finally snapped out of the trance your eyes had put him in. “I was so certain of it. Over and over, he just kept thinking it. He would see it through to the end. I thought that meant he would…” He shook his head as he recalled it. “I thought it meant he would keep our deal. I thought I-”

“What deal did you make?” you interrupted him.

“I'm the threat. I'm the one he fears the most. Or at least I was. I told him he could kill me once and for all if he let you live. I told him I'd go without a fight if he let Jake's poor judgment slide just one more time.”

“But you went there to betray him."

He shook his head like you didn’t see what was written so plainly in front of you as he took a single step forward.

"That day in the greenhouse when you said Josh would never deserve a monster like you? I realized it was his fault. He did that to you. He was the one who crashed the car, he was the one that turned you, he was the one that stole you from Josh and now he's the one that's turned you into this.”

You felt a sting pierce your heart as he gestured to you, the abomination that you now were that, truthfully, you didn’t want him to see.

“You were always proud of what I was,” you whispered, avoiding the sudden urge to cover yourself with your arms and hide from him.

“But you weren’t,” he argued back as he took another step. “I spent so long trying to convince you that there was nothing wrong with you but you never really believed it. It never did any good that I thought you were perfect because you never saw it yourself.”

He took yet another step toward you until he was only a foot away from you, and the proximity grew hard to ignore. Your bodies had practically become like magnets and the time you’d spent apart only served to strengthen those magnets.

“I have let myself become miserable because of the choices other people made,” he said with a pointed look that was as deadly serious as it was genuine. “Seeing you hate yourself? Hearing the way you’ve hated yourself? I was angry. So much self-torture on my part, so much wallowing in my own misery, but that day in the greenhouse, I stopped feeling so selfish for once. That day I stopped bleeding for myself and I bled for you."

This time you didn't make any attempt to hide your emotions as they wrote themselves plainly across your face in the form of tears, monstrous and ocean-like as they rolled down your cheeks and set a quiver in your chin.

"You always deserved a choice. You deserved to choose the type of person you wanted to be and you deserved to choose who to spend your life with. That is why I turned him in. He stole your decisions from you like it was nothing. I told Cassius he could have me in exchange for you. I told him I would get Jake to agree to stay on the council for a century. He agreed. I thought…I thought he agreed. He said he would see it to the end, our deal-”

“That's not what he meant,” you interjected. It had finally clicked for you. Cassius didn't play short games. And one day you’d probably learn what it was exactly he would want in return but you could hardly find any urge to care inside of you now. “It's the one I now have in my pocket that sees your soul as it truly is. That's what he said to me.”

You watched confusion flash across his face and it was your turn to shake your head furiously at the things he didn’t see that were laid so plainly before him.

“You think I would have just let you die for me?” you implored.

“You never even would have noticed. Your life with Jake would have continued after he did his time-”

“I don't have a life without you, Sam!” you bellowed finally, arms thrown out to your sides in exasperation that he still couldn't see it: that you had chosen him. “Why do you think Cassius wouldn't let you kill yourself too? If he saw this happening, Sam, why do you think he didn't want me to return to find you already dead?”

When you were met with only silence, you let out a frustrated sound.

“I mean, for fuck’s sake, why do you think I haven’t bound myself to Jake yet?”

“You haven't bound to him yet?” Sam asked, his voice suddenly low and urgent as he reached out and let his fingers graze ever so slightly against your forearm.

“No, I haven't!” you yelled out. “I can’t bring myself to do it!”

He looked stunned as he stood there, suddenly searching for air where he previously didn't need it.

“And now that I'm…this,” you gestured to yourself meanly as hot tears bubbled stronger, “the tie is weak. Rebecca can break it.”

“Why would you let her do that?” Sam questioned, his eyes unwavering on you so as not to miss anything you might do.

It almost made you laugh.

“I would do it for you!” you practically screamed at the glassy eyed boy standing in front of you that softened your tone and your emotions almost instantly. “You said you thought we should choose who we take with us to the end. You said that.” And then you stepped closer to him, practically choking on your tears as you struggled to get the stupid words out. “I would break it for you, Sam. I would break it to take you with me. To the end.”

His eyes were watery when he nodded, as if the only thing holding him back was hearing you say it at long last.

“To the end,” he agreed.

His lips were on yours not a second later, commanding your mouth against his and devouring you the way he had wanted to for so long, the way you had wanted him to for so long. And with his hands on your body pulling you into him with abandon, his mind intertwining with yours to shut out the voices that had haunted you every waking second, you found your peace once more.

He alone was where you belonged.

You melded into him that way, amongst the glass and the plants and the twinkling lights. You even felt, with his lips warming yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you and memorize you this way, that the two of you together transcended time and space together. And in many ways, you did.

You were desperate to have him right then and there. Frantic, even. Who cared who saw? Who cared who heard? You certainly didn't when you had gone so long without him. But the moment he understood what your hands meant to do, he took them both in one grip of his own and pried his mouth away.

“No, not like this. Not while you're still tied.”

You straightened almost instantly. He was right. That wasn't how you wanted him. You wanted to be focused on him when the time finally came. No one but him.

You had waited this long. Surely you could wait a little longer.

“Then let's fix that.”

—

Rebecca stood between you and Jake with some potion-looking liquid she had mixed up in a bowl and boiled over a fire in the backyard. It seemed rather primitive and it made you wonder how exactly she had brought you back but if you had to guess by the way your surroundings and your parents had melted right in front of your eyes, it had been fire that had brought you back so violently. And if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t want the details.

The others sat around quietly, waiting and watching while you kept your eyes squarely on Rebecca. You needed her for this but it did nothing to quell the loathing you felt for her having done what she had. Sam had had to free your mind in order for this magic to work and so it had left you out in the open once more, able to see her handiwork more easily.

“It should be easy. I've already spoken the incantation over it. You both need only drink it and your tie will be severed,” Rebecca explained.

You'd been avoiding Jake's eyes but when you met them now as he was being passed a tiny glass of dark liquid, you hoped he did see the sorrow in yours that things had come to this.

You wouldn't spend your life angry with him. You didn't want to. This was the only way to ensure it. And maybe you owed each other more words. Maybe you even owed each other a kiss or a hug or just some touch to remind one another that things wouldn't always feel this bad between you. But for once, he didn't seek you and you didn't seek him. There seemed to be a silent understanding between you that there was no amount of physical reassurance and no amount of words spoken that could undo what had been done. It would only be time that could remedy the mess you two had made of one another. At least that you had plenty of.

Rebecca handed you a tiny glass of your own and you took it between your fingers, staring down at the elixir that would change the path you were on so dramatically that it didn't even feel real.

You glanced over at Sam who wore an almost expressionless look on his face until he caught sight of your eyes. He gave you the smallest of smiles, one that he contained for his brother's sake, but it was enough to urge you to turn back to Jake and put glass to lips.

You each swallowed it down in one gulp with your eyes unwavering on one another. And as the liquid slid down your throat, its effects were practically instant.

All at once, you felt something within you sever, and suddenly the guilt you had felt for leaving Jake and the pull that tugged at you, digging its heels in and begging you to go to him, it was all gone, dwindling down into nothing more than a mere spark. And left in its wake was an anger that went unmatched.

You could feel your gifts returning to you, sweeping up through your toes and electrifying you on the journey toward your fingers and finally your head. You could tell Jake was experiencing the same thing, his head thrown back as he breathed deeply and tried to adjust to an assault of noise he had gone without and perhaps forgotten how to wrangle.

You, on the other hand, relished in it. For far too long you had felt weak. For far too long you had felt out of control, jostled around at the whims of others. In fact, you were here now because of choices that had been made that were out of your hands. It angered you beyond recognition. How dare he subject you to such a life of torment? How dare he bring you back to face it all like it was nothing?

The wind rustled the trees around you, conjuring up images of the days you had spent with Sam in the forest: the times you had killed and enjoyed it, the times you had hurt him and regretted it, the times you had been blinded by a rage you could neither control nor understand. But you didn’t fear yourself now. You didn’t fear the power that now flowed once more through your veins, made all the more strong thanks to your journey through death.

With your gifts finally intact, your mind no longer clouded by Jake to the extent that it had been, and your rage finally returned to your body, you reached out to take Rebecca's hand. You could feel all of the beings she had tormented before you. You could see them all as they clung angrily to her. And you were now one of them, thanks to Jake.

But in a way, so was he. Maybe he had even been the first.

She never even felt it. But Jake did. You made sure of that. Like both a punishment and a gift, he felt the instantaneous explosion of pain you sent through her that evaporated her where she stood without even an ounce of exertion from your body.

He doubled over in the same instant, gasping out in pain as he desperately gripped onto Josh's pant leg. Danny and Adele looked on in horror as nothing but remnants of Rebecca in the form of dust now floated in their vision.

Josh had crouched low instantly to ensure his twin was alright, his face out of your life of sight, but Jake? Jake had his eyes on you. He wore a similar expression of horror at what you had done, even as he gasped through the pain he had felt from her and fought to control it. But his eyes never faltered on yours.

And as he wilted there in front of you, the image of you in his vision suddenly morphing into someone he hardly even recognized, your eyes never shied from his either. You had nothing left to hide from him.

“An irresponsible use of power,” was all you said before you turned to leave them all where they stood, stunned and silent, like they had never even known you. And the truth was, they hadn’t. Not the you that you now were.

You weren’t even certain Sam would follow. You weren't certain you deserved him after it all. Actually, you felt quite certain that you didn't.

But he never even hesitated.

—

You didn’t know it as Sam drove you away from the house that you wouldn’t see them all again for several decades. Sam would make the trip a few times over the years without you until things eventually smoothed over, but for now, you left them behind willingly in favor of a house standing tall on a cliffside overlooking the ocean.

The constant swell of seawater beating against rocky cliff below you created a peaceful backdrop for you and Sam to begin your new lives together. And there overlooking the angry ocean, hardly a soul existed to torment you, not that Sam couldn’t handle it.

“I bought half the beach so we wouldn't have to worry about people,” you heard him say from behind you as you looked out the wide pane of glass in your fishbowl porch that painted a view so breathtaking before you.

But you turned on your heels to take in the even more breathtaking view that stood behind you.

“And the ocean here is always terrifying. Should drown those voices out, when they come.”

“There are hardly any here,” you said quietly.

It was funny; now that the two of you found yourselves truly alone for the first time, Sam looked incredibly nervous and you felt as such.

The two of you weren't used to such quiet.

It would be an adjustment, quelling the remnants of your anger alongside the confusion your body still felt at being alive. It would take some getting used to, having now returned to a being that needed sleep to get through the day. You were still changing in ways you didn’t understand, too. And it didn’t help that you no longer knew what exactly you were or what exactly it was that your body needed, that it hungered for. You still found yourself stumbling with fatigue every now and then despite your gifts having returned to you. You even found yourself fighting fits of visions, none from this world but from a world beyond, that always seemed to have you doubling over and screaming out for Sam. But each time you stumbled, he caught you. Each time you called out his name, he found you. And each time you hungered, he was there to satiate you.

You hadn’t lived in the house together for long before a particularly hard day found you. You’d slept late while the sun shined high in the sky warding off a storm brewing several miles away. You'd been kept awake the night before by a barrage of terrors that Sam had begged you to let him quiet. And you finally had let him after several hours. He’d lulled you into a peaceful sleep and ensured you would remain that way until you were more rested. And when you woke, you woke to a house with every curtain drawn tightly shut so as not to wake you. But Sam was no longer beside you.

You padded quietly through the house to find him standing in the large fishbowl porch just off the front of the home, drinking some thick, red blood from a purple mug he must have gotten when he’d decided to attend university some several decades earlier. And his eyes scanned the horizon where the storm drew closer.

Sam had been opting for blood bags from a local hospital since the move. You felt bad knowing how much he loved the fresh stuff but he had insisted upon a quicker method of dining. He hated leaving you even for the hour it took to acquire the stuff. When you had a better handle on things, you'd encourage him to feed the way you knew he needed to. But for you, blood no longer seemed necessary. It seemed that now what your body wanted more than anything was sleep. You were constantly running on empty.

Only once had you felt energized, on a night that Sam had had to shut out the world around you as you sat huddled in bed, shaking in fear at the thing staring at you from the corner of the room. He'd taken your face in his hands and made it all disappear. And then for good measure, he'd given you a memory to hold onto, one of his older ones from back when he was human with Danny. A happy one before their lives had changed. And it had seemed to wake you, like a jolt of caffeine injected directly into your veins. Sam had done some research in the days that had followed and came to the conclusion that you fed off the very same thing as the souls around you did: the living. The two of you just hadn't yet figured out exactly how to harness it.

“I'm sorry, I hope you didn't feel like you had to be quiet for my sake,” you said softly as you crept up behind him with the lavender-colored linen duvet from your bed draped over your shoulders.

That was the other thing you couldn't get used to: the cold. You were still cold to the touch but now it ran deeper, like it permeated your bones. Sam hated it. He hated feeling like he was only chilling you further every time he touched you. But you didn't mind it. It just seemed like a good excuse to rarely leave his bed or to stay bundled up in his sweaters.

“No, no, it’s okay. It kills me to watch you struggle but I know you want to learn to manage these things on your own,” he said just as quietly as he brushed your hair over your shoulder and smiled warmly down at you. “Are we still alone?” he asked.

It had become his new “stay with me”, a quick and easy question he could ask to judge where your mind was at without overstepping your own determination. Heaven forbid something happen to him and you couldn't even get through the first night alone, not that you would even want to.

“Yes, we’re still alone,” you answered before you inhaled a deep breath and tucked yourself under his arm to take in the view of the dark storm rolling across a marvelous expanse of sky. “It’s just going to take me some time to get the hang of things. Feel more normal again.”

He turned his body to face yours, setting his mug down on a wicker table so his hands were free to take either side of your face between them gently. Your eyes fell shut at the feeling, a feeling that was indescribable now that your heart wasn’t caught between him and someone else.

“Take all the time you need,” he whispered softly. “We have plenty of it.”

You let the weight of your head rest completely in his hands, lolling it to one side as you felt his face draw nearer to yours at the behest of your fingers working to find friction in his shirt.

“Actually, I don't think I need time,” you corrected yourself in a light murmur, your eyes still rocked closed.

“No?” he questioned.

You shook your head gently and opened your eyes, though they found themselves instantly fixed to his lips and far too intrigued to move.

“No. Your hands make me feel more normal than anything else.”

Your mouth willed him forward, lips parted and face angled up toward his, waiting, ever so patiently.

It felt like an eternity before his lips finally brushed against yours, just barely meeting yours where they yearned for him so desperately. But when you felt him there, grazing gently along your skin in an almost timid manner, as though he were testing the waters, you closed what little distance there still was keeping you apart, connecting your mouths more fully in a delicate kiss.

It was different having his mouth pressed to yours now, different than anything you had felt in the past. Your soul was no longer being pulled in two different directions, fighting to just feel him. Now, it was only him there with you, no fight needed. It was clarity in a world that seemed to lack that very thing.

When your lips parted briefly, his eyes met yours, staring down at you warmly while his thumbs memorized the skin pulled across your cheeks.

“I wish my hands could forget the last thing they did to you.” He spoke quietly but you could see very plainly the hurt in his eyes as he relived the very thing his brother had run from.

You took his hands in yours, pressing them between your palms and squeezing them tightly.

“The last thing they did was make me feel more alive than I have ever felt,” you assured him.

When his lips met yours again, they were no longer timid. They moved against yours fervently, like they had something they wanted to show you. And they did.

You and Sam hadn't done much in the way of physicality since you'd left for the cliffside. He had insisted it could wait until you had a better handle on things. But as the weeks passed, your need for him had only grown to immeasurable heights and now, you no longer cared if you were mentally unstable or not. You'd find yourself in an even more dire situation if you didn’t have him. And soon.

Sam smiled against your lips as he read your mind. “You already have me; didn’t you know that?”

You smiled back as his hands grew needy against your body, feeling the skin and the lines and the curves he was convinced he'd never get enough of. Thank God you had an eternity to spend together. No limit of time would ever be enough to truly get your fill of him.

It felt like your bodies found one another in slow motion, amongst an almost silent backdrop that only held in the air the sound of waves far beneath you and the trickle of rain that had started from above you, neither of which could touch you in the safety of your home and the safety of his arms.

Your body sought his in any way it could while he walked you through the house, each room quieter and more still than the last, until you blindly reached bed. And you didn't mind the cold as you went. In fact, your hands searched for it, fervently, that smooth, cold skin that they'd barely even been allowed to touch save for a much more shameful moment against a tree in a forest and covered in blood. It wasn't like that now, though. There was no shame to be found as you stripped him of his clothes so quickly, you knew he'd find tears in the fabric when this was long over.

Sam's hands acted with that same sense of urgency and desperation, a cartographer eager to map the planes of your body and how they belonged to him. How they existed for him. His movements to undress you were like silent little promises, each and every one, whispers of the way he felt for you, demonstrations of the way he'd care for you.

You could have remained that way forever and never felt anything but happiness, with Sam in front of you, bared to you and you to him, and your body pressed into his until every crack was sealed and no inch of space went untouched by him.

His hands rested flat against your back, drawing down along your shoulder blades until they reached the dimples at your lower back and the swell of your ass. And then he dipped them even lower to grab at your thighs and part them for him, lifting you high up around his waist to fit snugly between your legs. Even with your eyes closed and your mouth still claiming his, you memorized his body against yours. It would be your new calming memory, your new sense of peace, the thing you used to ground yourself when the nights got difficult.

You barely even registered the sea of plush that hit your back as he used the mattress stopping you to bring his body even closer to yours, pressing into you hard and hungry all while he devoured you.

You begged him with your body and your mind alike to let you feel him inside of you, the last form of connection you'd ever need. But as his mind searched yours, wading through the messy waters there to listen the way he usually did, he pulled his lips away finally, along with his body, until he only stood between your legs, gazing down at you lying ready for him on the bed.

“Are we still alone?” he asked, reaching down to trace lines along your thigh where he could still reach.

You didn't even need to check the way you sometimes did, when you'd fearfully set your eyes to turn about the room, looking for shadows, listening for voices. You could tell just by the silence that engulfed you that he was the only one there with you.

You lifted yourself up onto your elbows and then onto your palms until your torso raised parallel to his where he stood just beside the bed. And you brought your lips to his skin, the expanse around his navel first to let your tongue taste the saltiness there. You heard him let out a gasp above you as your cold fingers found him next, wrapping around his length as your mouth traveled up and down and along his torso that seemed to heave beneath your touch.

Those droopy, doughy eyes watched you carefully as you savored him. You felt indescribably lucky to be touching him this way. Even just to have him this way.

“There's no one here but you and me,” you whispered against his skin.

The way it was meant to be.

He worked a hand into your hair to pull your face away, enough to angle your head back to gaze up at him. And with your mouth vacant once more, he leaned down to connect your lips again, this time taking himself in his hand and angling his hips just right so that he could slide easily between your legs and thrust himself inside of you.

You gasped against his mouth as he stilled himself there, giving you both a moment to truly feel one another as you became one in an instant.

His eyes fell shut the way yours did and your lips hovered close to one another's, both parted and breathing deeply to steady the sudden desperate ache that grabbed at you, begging you to move at light speed to continue what you'd started.

“I don't know how I got this lucky,” he shook his head almost in disbelief just before he worked both of his hands up into your hair to steady himself against you once more, enough to draw his hips back slowly and thrust them forward again, sinking himself deeper into you. You both moaned at the feeling, the sounds mingling together and dancing in the air until it was impossible to tell where one noise ended and the other began.

You could hear nothing but the waves and the rain and the sounds he made as he lifted you just off the bed to position himself better, coming down to hover over you as his hips couldn't help but work themselves up into a rhythm.

God, you needed him. You needed this every waking second for the rest of eternity. It was the way his hands gripped your skin to pull you closer, the way his moans started deep in his chest and muffled themselves against your mouth, the way he felt filling you up and nudging the deepest parts of you, all of him really that conjured up happy tears in your eyes and the vacancy in your lungs.

His hand moved to your chest, slender fingers splaying out flat against your body to push you backward against the mattress again, giving himself a better view as he sent another sharp thrust through his hips, driving himself deeper inside of you until you could practically feel him in your stomach. And he moved slowly to savor his every movement but his pelvis drove into you hard, each thrust sending you scooting halfway up the bed as decency fell away and only an urgent hunger for one another remained.

His name, it was the only thing you knew as your back arched off the bed and your fingers reached out to grab at his chest or his arms or his hair, whatever they could find to grip and keep you tethered to him.

“I love you, Sam. Fuck, I love you. I love you,” you gasped from underneath him as the feelings overflowed in your chest, culminating in a prayer to him.

Sam dipped his head back down with a gentle curse and brought his lips to the skin just below your breasts. And you waited to feel fangs sink into your skin there. You waited for that piercing pleasure to send hot, sharp pain through your body. But it never came. Only his lips and tongue graced you, peppering you with lazy, sloppy kisses while his hips never even faltered.

“I have loved you for so long,” he answered between kisses and drags of his tongue against your icy skin. “And I'll love you to the end.”

You took his position as an opportunity to weave your hands into his long hair, letting them tangle themselves and pull as they pleased as your body sought his up and off the bed.

“And after or I'll haunt you, Samuel. Wherever you are in the afterlife, I'll find you-oh fuck!” A sharp gasp cut through your words as he nudged that beautiful spot inside of you.

He brought his face level with yours, showing off the smile that had spread on his lips.

“And after,” he promised with a nod, just before his brows furrowed and his mouth dropped open at the feeling of you squeezing tighter around him.

It was like its own little source of pleasure, knowing you could cause a reaction like that in him. It sparked something a bit more animalistic inside of you, prompting you to pull him down roughly and roll him over onto his back so you could begin to ride him at a much faster pace. But he quickly lifted his body up to meet yours, wrapping a strong arm around the small of your back to help guide your rhythm.

“Fuck,” he grunted, his face taking on a determined look as his hands worked with your hips to spur your movements on. Just a little harder, just a little faster.

You moaned out a loud sound as you wrapped your arm around his shoulders and dropped your forehead down onto him. Each raise and lowering of your hips brought him closer, brought you closer.

His hands worked hard to spread across every inch of your skin as your hips rolled against him, taking him as deeply as you could.

“I-I swear you saved me,” he stuttered out against the feeling, against your skin. “When we met, I was giving up.”

You squeezed your eyes shut at his words, moving faster and truthfully, feeling nothing but him and the blinding bliss his body created.

“Shit-” His words threatened to fail him as expletives began to drip from your own mouth like a chant now. But he seemed so determined to make you understand just exactly how he felt, as if you couldn’t feel it in the way his body clung to yours or in the way his eyes drooped just a little more with the heavy weight of his love for you.

“Everything inside of me burns with desire for you,” he grunted as he gripped your waist tighter and bounced you harder on his length.

“Oh fuck, Sam-” you choked out.

“I swear,” he breathed out, enraptured in your bliss almost more than his own, “you’ve made me better.”

It was his words that did it in the end, sending you crashing over the edge with his name burned into your throat as your walls clenched hard around him. And he followed not long after, spilling deep inside of you and clutching your body as close to his as he could manage.

The aftermath you had left took the shape of bed linens strewn across the floor along with clothing that may or may not have been wearable again in its current state. And in bed, your bodies entangled that same way, haphazard and draped wherever they had left off with one another. But even so, his lips strolled along your skin lazily, whatever he could reach as you fell back onto the mattress like he was reluctant to let the moment end.

You knew what he was doing. He was committing this very moment to memory, trying not to lose even a single detail.

“A new favorite.” It wasn’t so much a question but he nodded in confirmation.

“A new favorite.”

You couldn't help the smile that spread across your lips.

He seemed to be settling into the bed, likely to help you sleep, but you hardly felt tired. Actually, you'd never felt more alive than you did in that moment. So wearing only a mischievous smirk, you slipped off the mattress as he eyed you and your form carefully.

You waltzed across the room to his side of the bed as the confusion grew on his face. And when you stood next to him and took his hand gently in yours, you gave him a grin.

“I'll race you,” you teased just before you flew out the door behind you.

You could hear him yelling from behind you as you went.

“Where are you going? You're indecent!”

“Come find me beneath the water!” you yelled back, pushing through every door in your way until your feet had found solid ground.

Then you flung your body over the cliff's edge.

And when your body hit the water and began to sink into it like a rock, welcoming the vast darkness that existed below the bellowing surface, you again found yourself unable to contain the smile that formed at your lips when you felt the splash of him meeting you there.

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 2 years ago

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no one asked for this, but i had the need to write something a bit bittersweet!

fic under the cut -> but please do leave a comment on ao3 if you feel so inclined, it makes my heart sing <3

lucifer x angel!reader, 1700+ words, Feelings(TM), mild hurt/comfort

You knew you’d find Lucifer sitting on the ground on the edge of Styx, staring into the deep, dark water, watching it flow — a figure clad in white, a stark contrast against the grey landscape. They seem lost in thought.

You approach them carefully, not wanting to disturb, but wishing you could offer… something. You aren’t sure if they want company, but you can feel the deep sadness radiating from them.

It’s a privilege, really — to be able to see the Lord of Hell like this. You feel honoured, as much as your heart breaks for them.

You are playing with fire and you know it — risking God’s wrath, coming here. It’s just that they captivate you so. You cannot resist loving a soul so deeply (so beautifully) sad.

“I can’t remember it anymore, you know,” Lucifer says, still staring at the deep water, not turning to look at you.

You sit on the ground next to them. “What can’t you remember?”

“The feeling,” they say, “of… fullness.”

“Fullness?” you ask, not entirely comprehending.

“There isn’t a word to describe it. I can only describe the lack of it, an emptiness that doesn’t go away.”

“Is that… has it been like that since the fall?” you ask.

“Yes.”

“What does it feel like? The emptiness?”

They are silent for a while. When they finally speak, they turn to look at you. Their blue eyes are like the deep, dark water they were gazing at up until a moment ago.

“It is best described as a crushing sort of weight. Somewhere… around here,” they say, putting their hand on their chest, “but it isn’t entirely something. It’s more like nothing.”

You hold their gaze, listening, silently urging them to explain further. They open their mouth, as if to say something, but then close it again, turning their gaze onto the river once more.

“I dream about it still,” they say.

“It?”

“The warmth.”

Another long silence. The river softly hums as it flows — it’s a soothing sound. You understand why they like to come here. There is a sort of beauty here, even in the desolate landscape of Hell. You like it — perhaps a bit too much.

“I watch people sometimes — how they love. Their families, their pets, their lovers, the crisp morning air, the moon, a piece of art. And then… I close my eyes and try to imagine it. I can feel it, as if on the tip of the tongue, something I can almost grasp, a memory that is almost there, but not quite.”

They look at you again. They raise their arm — slowly, as if not to startle you — and brush a stray piece of hair away from your face. You shiver. Their hands are warm and their touch makes the very fabric of your soul tingle.

“I can feel it radiating from you — that love you have,” they say and caress your cheek as they lower their hand. They touch you like you’re something fragile, like they’re afraid to break you, like it’s a privilege to put their hands on you. “You are quite special, even for an angel.”

“I am hardly special,” you say, with no false modesty, fully believing it, “but thank you. I appreciate it very much, coming from you.”

They chuckle. “Sweet creature,” they say, turning their gaze to the water and falling silent again.

You watch the river flow together.

“You shouldn’t be here, you know,” they say.

“I know.”

“Then why are you here, little angel?”

“You know why.”

“It won’t happen. I would never do that to you.”

“I know. But it makes me like you more.”

They laugh and it sounds like bird song.

“Besides, I like to sit with you,” you say. It’s true — you could sit here with them for a couple of lifetimes, at least. You wonder if you could sit here forever. You wonder if you could sit here for an eternity.

They glance at you before turning to the river again.

“You are free to sit wherever you like, I suppose.”

You sit and watch the river in silence for a while longer.

“You are still sad,” you say. It isn’t a question — you can feel the sorrow wrapped around them like a heavy cloak.

They just nod absentmindedly, gaze fixed onto dark blue water. You wonder if they see things in it that are hidden to the eyes of an angel.

“I could help you with it — if you will allow me,” you say, hoping they will.

“How could you possibly help me, little one?”

“Well, I could… hold your sorrow for a bit, let you rest. It is a talent of mine.”

They seem intrigued, but hesitant.

“I wouldn’t want you to do something you might regret,” they say.

“I won’t fall for helping a troubled soul — not even if it’s you.”

They seem torn. You know their sorrow is heavy — you can feel how it engulfs them, suffocates them, presses on their heart, heavy and thick and sticky like molasses.

“There is… emptiness there — along with the sorrow. Can you take it?” they ask.

“I am stronger than you think.”

“Strong enough to bear the Devil’s cross?” they press. They want to dissuade you.

“Perhaps,” you answer, not wanting to guarantee them anything, because you honestly don’t know. “I wish to try, if you will allow me.”

They laugh, their gaze incredulous. They say nothing.

You carefully reach forward, searching for their hand. “May I?” you ask.

They glance at your hand, their brows furrowed. You can’t help but notice how pretty they look, insecurity etched into their soft features, and perhaps curiosity, and an eagerness — they want you to hold their hand, and you know it.

They simply nod, their gaze fixed onto your hand that’s reaching towards theirs.

Ever so slowly, you take their hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with theirs. They shiver from your touch, their wings fluttering. You know why, and you feel it too — the electric current that passes through you.

You pay it no mind, however, focusing on what you do best — helping souls carry their burden.

It almost crushes you when you feel it for the first time. The emptiness is all-encompassing, but you don’t let it take over you — you simply hold it.

Lucifer audibly gasps when they feel it.

“I feel so light,” they say.

You can’t say anything, the concentration required to hold their burden too great, but you smile at them.

“I can see you are in pain, little angel. You don’t have to do it any longer, I am still thankful,” they start, but you raise your hand, stopping them — a bold move, to stop the Ruler of Hell when they are talking — but they do fall silent.

They look at you with a sort of wonder. There are galaxies twirling in their gaze, thoughts you are not privy to.

After a couple of moments, you can’t hold it any longer — the weight threatens to crush you.

“I’ll let go now,” you warn, and they say nothing. They are still looking at you, eyes sparkling with something you can’t name.

When you let go, they take their burden back with grace. The only sign a soul-crushing weight landed on their chest is in the way they close their eyes for just a moment, and the slight furrow of their brow. You are aware they have aeons of practice, but it’s still impressive.

“You are magnificent,” you say.

They open their eyes.

“I suppose one could argue that,” they say. They go to pull away from your touch, but you put your other hand on top of theirs. They let you do it.

You take their hand to your lips, slowly. They watch you as you press a kiss to their knuckles. Their pink lips part slightly when they feel the warmth of your mouth against their skin.

You turn their hand, kissing their palm, then wrist, and then you pull their sleeve to kiss further up their arm. They simply watch you. There is the slightest flush to their cheeks — barely noticeable, but still there. You are overcome with emotion upon seeing their beautiful face, their soft hair, the swirling depth in their eyes.

You let go of their hand and lean in closer, closer, impossibly close. Your very soul is tingling and you feel drunk on their energy. It’s pulling you in, tugging at your heart, calling at you.

You bury your face into their soft, blonde curls. They smell like warm, burnt wood and something sweet and dark you cannot name. They put their hand on the back of your head, run their fingers through your hair, not quite pulling you closer, just gently holding you.

You press a kiss onto their jaw.

“Angel,” they say — it’s a warning (a soft one, but a warning still), but you don’t listen. You can’t resist their warmth, their softness, their scent. Their very essence calls to you.

“Angel,” they repeat as you press a kiss to their soft, flushed cheek.

They don’t push you away, however, so you feel emboldened to drag your mouth along their skin until you almost reach the corner of their lips. You feel drunk and dizzy and warm — sugary and sweet desire tugs at your heart. You long to press your lips onto theirs. What do they taste like?

You never do learn how their lips taste (they must taste like sweet desire, they must, you think) because as soon as you move to give them a soft kiss, they push you away. Gently, and softly — but they still push you away.

“A kiss, no matter how sweet, isn’t worth an eternity in Hell,” they say, and you know their word is final.

“How can something so loving lead to Hell?” you ask.

“It is questions like these that lead angels to fall,” they respond.

They let you sit with them by the river for a while longer. You watch them, and they watch the deep water.

“What do you see inside?” you ask at some point.

“Nothing you would understand,” they answer.

When you turn to leave, you say, “I will come back again, you know.”

“I know, little angel. You are free to do as you please, but it wouldn’t be wise to return.”

“I know.”

You watch them as you leave — a regal, sorrowful figure in white.

As you turn away from them, you wonder how many more times you will come to Hell before you finally fall.

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer sandman #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #angel!reader #the sandman 2022 #gwendoline christie #i will produce my own garbage and also consume it

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kedsandtubesocks · 2 years ago

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Hold On, Hold On

pairing: Cowboy!Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

summary: Your cowboy leaves for another bounty and you face how fragile a home can be

wc: 4.7k

warnings: 18+ only. MDNI, old west AU, semi established relationship, violence and town in peril, deep yearning, light angst but happy ending, heavy make-out session that gets a bit heated and spicy at the end

a/n: this is based off the season 3 episode ‘the pirate’ except with bandits lol, the title of this is from another neko case song of the same name (no surprise) I have a whole little collection of Cowboy Din pieces but this works as a good stand alone! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy & biggest thank you to my cowgal forever @skeletoncowboys this is for you I love ya

The wilderness calls to your bounty hunting cowboy once again.

“Don’t know how long this one is going to take. So I’m having the kid come with me.” Din tells you, his black bandana covering his face.

As much as you understand, an ache swells through your chest fast.

Would this be the last time you saw him? Saw either of your boys that have become beautiful fixtures in your life?

Something as dangerous as a storm rips through your mind. This all is temporary and you knew that.

Nothing is sure or set in stone with a man who chases after demons in the desert.

Din’s occupation as a bounty hunter meant he jumped around from town to town, never settling in a place for too long. Even with a ward in his care, you understood there was no need for him to grow roots in a particular community.

The only reason why he often brought his bounties here was because the mayor of your town was a previous member of the same bounty hunting guild Din is in. You never even knew bounty hunters held guilds. But that is the life you are wading through now.

It’s the life that’s led you to this, to seeing Din and the baby off on their journey.

You kiss the kid goodbye. His sweet pudgy cheeks puff up so warmly when he smiles at you.

“Keep an eye on your dad, little bug,” you tell the baby as you poke his sweet little nose. He giggles and it’s a sound you will treasure.

“Alright kid, let’s go.” Din croaks low as he shifts the baby up into his arms.

You haven’t been able to look Din in the eyes since he announced his departure. You don’t even know why this particular trip is affecting you so much.

“I packed a few extra slices of bread.” You explain rapidly. “And I know you’re still upset that I’m having you take one of my quilts but trust me, I’d rather you two have it-“

He cuts off your rambling quietly with the soft whisper of your name. It strikes fast like lightning shot through your spine.

Now you can’t help but turn your gaze up to him.

The whispers around this man painted him to be an omen because you could never see his eyes.

That part is true. The shadow of Din’s hat casts a deep shadow heavily blocking any chance of getting a good look at him in the eye. Then his bandana completely hides him from the nose down. At times he truly exists as a faceless phantom, a wandering ghost that has now found residence in your heart’s chambers.

But right now, this phantom stares directly at you and you can clearly see the eyes of this righteous man.

You’ve seen his face, kissed his soft lips. But his eyes…

Those rich soil eyes hold so much emotion and now hold your entire soul captive in their gaze.

You say nothing, don’t even know what to tell him.

A goodbye feels too simple. A please come home safe doesn't sound true because was this really his home?

Would this ever be his home?

And could you ever house a man as wild as a tumbleweed?

“Thank you.” Din speaks first. However, that simple thank you is all he says.

Your arms ache to embrace him. Your lips wish you were brave enough to yank the cloth across his face down to kiss him with every inch of your love.

He suddenly nods at you and you only nod back.

Without another word Din jumps onto his horse. The animal, which you believe hates you, now lets you softly pet him. You wish you could appreciate this small step but heaviness clogs your heart too much for any other emotion to pass.

The baby makes a soft whimper and both you and Din snap your attention to him. With his chubby sweet little fingers, your little bug simply waves a sad soft thing at you. He’s so smart, the kid, and you swallow back hard as you wave back. Your eyes return to Din.

The shade of his hat now has you searching harder for his eyes.

This time you can’t find them.

Nothing else is said.

Din simply kicks his heels against his horse and then begins a slow ride away.

No breeze of the wind carries them. This time it is only the stillness of the desert. For some reason, as you watch them dwindle further and further away, the stillness scares you more.

Summer beats down an unforgiving heat.

The air gets thick with the dry dust and you’re thankful for the cool nights that settle in. The early evening breeze from the open window already feels refreshing as you finish buying a few provisions from the commissary.

The clerk, an older man whose wife you are fond of, gently says your name hesitantly. His eyes are even a bit nervous and you ready yourself for whatever he asks.

“What…whatever happened to that young babe you had with you?”

You had previously been in the store many times with the baby happily cuddled in your arms. You used to cover him with a small light quilt to keep him safe from any curious eyes. You didn’t want them recognizing him if they saw the baby with your bounty hunter. But of course, the sight of you suddenly with a new babe did spark a few curious conversations.

Now your lips twitch but out of a fondness soaked in an aching sadness.

You haven't seen your boys for three months.

It’s the longest they’ve ever been gone. Not even a letter has been sent your way. But then again, you don’t take Din as one to write letters. The panic, the sleepless nights worrying if they were alright, all those emotions bleed into a numbness now. You simply wade through it all like trying to find an exit out of a sandpit slowly sinking you.

Swallowing the canyon sized lump in your throat, you simply give a brave false smile to the clerk staring so worried now.

You remember once jokingly telling him you had grown the baby in your garden. After all, you had first found the little terror eating your carrots.

“The wind swept him away from me,” you reply and you even hear the hollowness you cannot hide in your tone.

The clerk curiously frowns confused but his eyes seem to read past your brave face. He comfortingly pats your hand still on the counter and wishes you a safe walk back to your cabin.

With a grateful small grin you move to head out of the store.

Then the air bursts with a violent and loud crack.

Bandits are not a new occurrence to you or to the town. Once in a blue moon, a couple of them would arrive, make a ruckus at the saloon or unfortunately leave the town with more than they came with.

But the bandits arriving now come in a wave, like a mass of locust swarming in so fast you didn’t have time to think. And you didn’t. The explosion comes and you and the clerk give each other a petrified look before dashing outside.

Smoke rises from the edge of town and your heart sinks horrified at the chaos quickly consuming. The raiders ride in fast. The sticks of dynamite in their hand speak of a sinister threat of what was to come if anyone tries to stop them.

You move fast, trying to help your dear clerk to his house to be with his wife. You try to keep low. But when you are up against a swarm, it’s hard to outrun their staggering numbers.

Anywhere you turn the raider’s sinisters faces laugh proud and wild from on top of their horses. Some of them even chase on foot like released devils. It’s a bedlam choking your throat in panic.

Leave. You have to leave, find shelter or at least hide in your home.

Thankfully a group of you, including Mayor Karga, band together and flee fast from the town out past the outskirts. You all make camp on a secluded hillside that overlooks the town.

In the dead of night, the town illuminates a destructive crimson that has your legs wanting to give out.

“Don’t worry everyone!” Karga with his steady leveled heads guidance calls out in the night to you and the others townsfolk. “Before we evacuated I sent a telegram to my best man! He will come!”

For some reason your mind immediately flashes to Din.

You almost want to laugh. Of course your love sick heart would clutch onto the idea of him during a perilous moment of turmoil. He was a known fighter, though you had never seen him in combat. But a sharp internal voice striking as sharp as a rattlesnake tells you not to put your faith in bounty hunters.

Not even Din.

You squeeze away the tears clouding up your eyes and try to sleep alone under the desert’s ever watchful eye.

Staring up at the clear beautiful sky, you watch as the stars twinkle down below.

There were children’s tales about wishing on stars, on how seeing one fly across the sky was the reminder of how quick and fast wishes come. You remember even telling that story to your favorite little carrot stealing bug.

Emotions clog your throat even more at the thought of the baby and his father.

Something in you whispers to make a wish. That maybe at this hour of feeling so lost, a wish is all you have.

But again, wishing on stars, wishing for bounty hunters to make a miraculous return from the horizon, is for children. And you are too old to hold onto wishes when your town faces a real chaos that wishes might not be able to maybe save.

A day passes among the hills.

The next day, talk bubbles among some of the townsfolk to try and take the county back. But even you know the ammunition would not withstand the sheer force of the bandits.

And the bandits are apparently a stubborn group.

Their leader, a terrifying man with a wild beard by the name of Gorian Shard, announces with a loud voice to Karga they will never leave.

“A fair retribution for you not serving my men and then discovering your precious bounty hunter killed more of my comrades!”

Your heart again jumps at the thought of it being Din.

But your mind races to the worst possibilities. Did he encounter these raiders and not make it out alive? What about the baby?

You refuse to let yourself dwindle on those thoughts. You can’t. You have to find a way to keep moving, find a way out of this situation.

The townsfolk grow restless and worried, more so than you.

“Now everyone please, just hold on. I know help is on the way!” Karga urges, a voice of reason and faith. It settles everyone enough as another night among the wilderness arrives.

This time clouds cluster in the skies above and hide the stars. You think it’s fitting as you go to sleep with tears in your eyes.

You think of Kargas words, the idea of holding onto faith. You suppose even now a part of you still greedily clutches onto a last bit of hope that you’ll see your cowboy again.

You glance up at the cloudy sky again.

Even though there are no stars out, your heart now sends out a whisper of a wish. It’s a simple one.

What else do you have to lose making a wish now?

So you wish for safety - for you, for the town, and for your two boys that you hope more than ever are alive.

Soft low mummering wakes you up. Above stretches a soft periwinkle blue morning sky. When you rise you find so many staring down towards the town.

When you go to see what has everyone in a commotion, your breath gets snatched right out of your chest.

Din is fast on his horse.

He moves rapidly between the buildings and among the shadows that you believe you might have just imagined him.

But then, he swiftly rides out from a sharp corner and shoots three bandits down.

The towns people cry in absolute cheer but your eyes are on the cowboy moving like a phantom. It really is him.

Din.

He’s not alone though. More riders move in to take down the bandits but everyone including yourself focus on the mystery rider.

“Isn’t that the man with no eyes!? The one with the face you can’t even see?” Someone whispers.

“No…can’t be.” Another voice argues.

Karga suddenly chuckles, warm and reassured. “Trust me, my friends. That is indeed the same bounty hunter. He’s ours.”

A sharp flash of possessiveness rises.

You want to correct the Mayor and say he’s yours. That bounty hunter is your bounty hunter, the one who’s son eats from your garden, the bounty hunter who’s favorite fruit is oranges, whose face you knew and existence is now carved a deep cavern in your heart.

Din.

Your bounty hunter.

He’s a wonder to watch in action. Smooth, swift, firing with precision and maneuvering with an almost grace.

Your throat goes dry thinking of how strong this cowboy is the same one who once got flustered when he told you he can’t dance.

The bandits are effortlessly taken down by Din and the reinforcements he brought. Peace returns with the warm dawn. A beautiful relieved joy bursts through the crowd as everyone starts the descent back to the town. Your legs barely carry you but you eventually find yourself there among your town.

Rubble lines the streets. A few shops including the cantina took the worst damage. A steady rebuild is already being discussed among the townsfolk but your attention rests entirely on the black bandana wearing man.

He’s alive.

The baby sits cozy in his arms, smiling as bright as a new sun. Your mind can’t even process the thought of Din riding into battle with the kid.

Then a woman walks towards him.

Her gait is steady, confident. When she removes her hat to wipe her face, striking auburn colored hair falls from under her hat. She is lovely and it dawns on you that she was with the reinforcements.

You can’t help but admire her for being a part of the group who help liberate and retrieve your home. But when she moves closer to talk to Din, even playfully smiles at the baby, your heart starts deflating.

Soon Karga walks forward to speak to the hunters and the townspeople.

The entire time he talks you stay hidden against the shadow of a building, watching. The woman stands next to Din the entire time and grins so fondly. That look only intensifies when she goes to stare at him. Her eyes are molten and when Din turns back to her, he nods.

You hate that you cannot see his eyes.

The wilderness is not a forgiving thing. It brings in many travelers that simply come and go and it seems Din might be one of them. Because of course he would be close with another, a true cowgirl who can handle the wilderness and his ever changing lifestyle.

He never mentioned another woman in his life, but you suppose you wouldn’t either if you were in his position.

You wonder now if your existence to him was a simple way to pass the time, if you were just a quiet pit stop not ever meant to hold him for long. You try not to let these acidic jealous thoughts poison you, but it’s too late.

Before Din can turn to look towards the crowd, you turn on your heels and walk away against the shadows of the building.

You go to help the clerk, his sweet wife clean up the shop as best as you can.

“I wonder if the bounty hunter we’ve seen around here with the black bandana is handsome?” The clerk’s wife offers trying to lighten the space and her husband chuckles.

You stay quiet while your heart whispers out that yes, that bounty hunter is quite handsome.

When exhaustion mixes too dangerously with the heartbreak still brimming in your body, you decide to slip home.

You don’t even realize how long this day has been until you step out of the shop and find the sun already making her way to bed over the horizon.

It's comforting in a strange way.

The sun will rise again tomorrow, a new day, and so will you. You will move on.

You walk forward, straight out of the town and to the outskirts to where your cabin sits. You want to cry seeing your home thankfully still standing. A few animals are gone. Some crops and even stored goods from the shed have been stolen. The inside of your house is a ransacked clutter.

In the stillness, among the settled destruction, quiet tears sting your eyes.

You don’t know if it’s from the exhaustion of these past few days or the ache knowing your bounty hunter might be taken away from you by something fiercer than the wilderness.

He’s alive, your heart whispers.

You got your wish.

And that is true, but heavens above the truth hurts a violent ache.

Footsteps against the porch outside make you jump and whip around to stare from inside your house. There against your open doorway stands a beautiful shadow.

“Din…” Your voice even sounds hollow saying his name.

He pulls his mask down. His stunning handsome face stares at you wide as if you’re the phantom. Then he moves with a blinding speed you witnessed against the bandits.

In quick steps he is suddenly before you and then, you are in his arms.

He smells of gunpowder, sweat and something faintly him. It’s intoxicating and you can’t even stop yourself. Your arms wrap around him tight.

He breathes your name out and you think it might even sound like a shaken watery prayer.

“I didn’t see you among the others and I thought…I thought the worst, honey.” Din speaks with a heavy tone as thick as a torn bush.

That sweet but cursed nickname ignites a tender warmth through your body.

“I did too, about you.” You reply back small and in a waterlogged voice. “Haven’t seen you in months and I thought…”

You can’t even utter the words.

You instead simply allow yourself this moment to hold him tight.

“I know.” Din answers low. “The job took a lot longer than I thought. I’m sorry.”

“But then Karga sent me that ‘gram.” His voice steels hard.

So, it was him that Karga was speaking about.

“And I had to come back.” Din breathes out and squeezes you in his arms. His face even burrows against the top of your head and your eyes go wide.

Quietly your mind conjures up the image of the beautiful woman with the sunset colored hair and your eyes go misty.

So many emotions swirl in you that you can’t even swim against their tides to steady yourself.

A soft coo comes from the door now and instantly you and Din pull away from each other. Waddling in with wide eyes is the baby.

Without hesitation you leave Din’s arms to rush to the kid who once he sees you lights up. Then his arms reach out wide and grabby towards you. So effortlessly you scoop the little critter in your arms and pepper kisses across his face.

His sweet little coos twinkle like the sweetest wind chime.

“You came back just to eat more of my veggies didn’t you, little bug?” You laugh watery as the baby giggles so bright.

For the rest of the evening the little babe stays cozy in your arms refusing to leave even as you and Din slowly start cleaning up the cabin.

It’s a slow, quiet process.

Neither of you ask how the other is, how the other has been these missing months. The tension in the air clouds with a thickness you don’t know how to navigate.

Eventually the baby falls asleep quickly and happily snuggled in the makeshift bed.

Exhausted and in a type of trance all you can do is plop yourself on the edge of your porch. Din with his boots echoing on the wood quietly moves to sit beside you.

“Are you alright?” Din surprisingly speaks first in a comforting and low tone.

“Yeah it’s just… it’s been a long day.” It’s been a long couple of days, a couple of months and now, your ghost is materialized beside you.

“I bet.” Din comforts you so gently. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this place back to the way it was, honey.”

We will.

He included himself in those plans.

“You don’t have to stay too long,” but you reply low into the early evening air. “I understand your work keeps you busy and…”

The words become barbed and cut your throat on the way out.

“I know you had to come back because Karga sent out that distress signal. But I know this isn’t your home.”

Bounty hunters don’t stay in one place for long. He’s teaching you that.

And besides, what home could you truly give him?

The one you have now needs major repairs from the damage done by the bandits. Even before then your life compared to his is a simple mundane quietness that he might grow bored of.

Among the wilderness, the mirage is a sea of deception. It distorts the landscape before your eyes and for some reason that has you thinking of the times Din has returned to you from other jobs. You suppose that is what happened with you and Din. You wandered too deep into an unbelievable daydream and got stuck in the mirage, in the illusion of building a life with this man.

Din is still so far away, just out of your reach shimmering in the distance and untouchable.

After all, your bounty hunter is considered a ghost.

“I…” Din’s voice catches on itself and when you turn to him, the look on his face breaks your soul. His deep soil eyes are glossy, soaked with tears. His mouth opens in a sad frown.

Din swallows hard. Then his gorgeous sun kissed features frown even as confusion flickers in his gaze.

“I did come back for Karga, yes. But I came back because my home was in danger. Because you were in danger.”

His voice is clouded with conviction but running through it is an undercurrent of hurt.

Tears start to stream down your cheeks as free as rivers while you stare at him.

“You had to come home.” You croak the words out and a wild adoration resonates through your body.

Din nods firm, resolved.

You don’t know who moves first, who strikes first, but it doesn’t matter. The two of you are clutching each other and Din’s mouth kisses yours with the same wild power he shows in combat. He’s unrelenting and desperate but you suppose so are you.

The nights were long alone with your hand and simply thinking of his broad back, his beautiful thick neck, the feeling of his strong hands against you. And now, he is real solid flesh and blood beneath your fingertips. His tongue licks into your mouth trying to taste and consume everything you have. Your hands run to his hair and softly his hat falls away leaving you the bare face bounty hunter who you love entirely.

You clutch onto his shoulders and suddenly pull him close not even caring where you are.

Your back hits against the wood of the porch as Din leans down above. Din groans loud when his lips kiss your neck tasting the salt of your skin. Your eyes close in bliss.

He kisses a fiery path down your neck to your shoulders.

“Can I remove this, honey?” His voice is a debauched croak as he tugs at your garment blouse. Those deep eyes of his peer up at you beautiful fathomless abyss you want to fade into. Once you nod quickly he slips your blouse down exposing your chest to the evening air.

You wonder if a wild spirit has possessed you to let Din do this on your front porch but you embrace it. Especially when his tongue begins circling your nipple. Your mouth presses tight to and not let a whine escape you.

He suddenly kisses your breast with tenderness. He’s soft and lets his tongue trace a mindless path against your skin. It makes your body melt. Then he wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks loudly.

Your body leans up trying to get closer to him, trying to grind against any part of him, to get relief.

Din becomes a man possessed himself, licking and sucking both of your breasts until saliva coats them both

You sigh his name to the wind.

He finally draws back to stare down at you. He has never looked more beautiful. His eyes are completely blown out like a moonless night staring at you with pure devotion.

You lean up kiss him not even caring at how cold the air is against your bare chest. You need to be near him, need to consume him as much as he’s already consuming you.

Then the crunch of footsteps on the gravel approaches.

The sound galvanizes you both in a frenzy.

You rapidly yank your blouse up. Din effortlessly leans across you fast, almost covering you, as he whips to face forward. You realize it’s a type of protective move that makes your heart swell.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” A woman’s voice arrives amused.

Now scrambling up, you gently move Din away. There standing a few feet away from the entrance to the porch is the woman with the sunset hair.

She grins a coy knowing thing and your heart drops.

You stare at her petrified. She simply grins warmer. Then she winks at you before turning her gaze to Din.

“I just wanted to let you know that myself and a few others are heading back to camp. Don’t want to keep my dear wife waiting too long after all.” She chuckles. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying here.”

Wait, wife? Confusion creeps in hearing her words.

“Yes.” Din replies with a curt nod.

“I figured.” The woman smiles and then flickers her attention back to you. With a poised warm expression she nods to you and you nod back, a bit stunned.

“Take care Din, enjoy your time back home. We’ll see you soon.” She says with a deep kindness and you don’t miss the way she phrases Din being back home.

“You as well Bo.” He bids her goodbye.

The woman, Bo, gives you a final warm grin and then walks to her horse you can spot faintly in the darkness.

“Who was that?” You have to ask.

“A good friend. She’s married to my people’s blacksmith. The two of them were the ones who rallied the reinforcements that helped me today.” Din explains simply.

Your eyes go wide. All the jealousy feels embarrassing now and you want to bring that woman back so you can both thank her and apologize.

“I’ll have to thank her and the others soon.” You mutter and Din hums a quiet agreeing noise.

“I would be honored to introduce you to them.” Din affirms.

The confusion you had quickly turns into a slight amusement tickling your lips and a small giggle even almost escapes you.

This day has been a whirlwind finally setting you down on your feet and now here you are, with your cowboy.

So you slide closer to him on the patio and curl your arms around his torso. Your body leans and curls against his back.

Closing your eyes, you burrow your face against Din’s strong solid frame. The fabric of his under shirt smells faintly of sunlight and something uniquely Din.

You kiss his back with the gentlest of pressure and Din draws your arms around him closer. He exhales a deep sigh you feel being so close against him.

A soft summer breeze of the desert breathes new life through the air.

“We’ll have to fix the fence tomorrow.” Din quietly notes and you hum in agreement.

There was much work to do. You even dread for a split moment thinking of all the work that has to be done in the heat tomorrow. But you also imagine the baby wandering around babbling so sweetly as he wears Din’s way too big hat…

And Din being by your side every step.

You squeeze him tighter, a silent apology for ever doubting this incredible force of a man.

“Welcome home.” You whisper to him.

Din’s hand squeezes yours.

“Yeah…M’home, honey.”

In your arms, you have caught a phantom of the wilderness and you plan to hold onto him as long as you can.

#I know everyone is on the spiderman Miguel train and I love and support y’all I just miss our space Cowboy that’s all #plus knowing that me and maybe two other babes might read this is enough to make my little heart say yeehaw 🤠#Din 🩶#cowboy din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #Din Djarin x reader #din djarin x you

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wellthebardsdead · 7 months ago

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Follow up to Lucy’s unexpected arrival to faerûn after cutting off Zariels head

———

Mizora: We had a deal Wyll. And by the way Karlach, Zariel Sends her regards.

Lucy: *feeling the fiendish urge return to scratch at the back of her tadpole, knowing she’ll corrupt another part of her soul if she feeds into the devil powers she’s been gifted, but unable to stand by* really? I haven’t heard a peep out of her.

Mizora: What?

Lucy: *pulls the bloodied burlap sack from by her pack and opens it, pulling out zariels decapitated head* silent as a- mouse. *grins assuming her archdevil form, growing in height as she spreads out large bat like wings* Now then. As the appointed replacement to Zariel by the disembodied voice of Asmodaeus himself, I hereby, set Karlach free. And- *summons wylls contract* since you’re under, my, jurisdiction Mizora. Wylls contract is now void, effective immediately. Besides, he didn’t break it anyway. Karlach, has a heart.

Mizora: sh-she does?

Lucy: *smiles and grabs her by the neck, digging her claws into her chest and ripping out her still beating heart, snapping her fingers and placing it in Karlachs chest, and the engine in Mizoras* now she does.

Karlach: *coughs as the flames die down, and the heart becomes hers* I… I have a heart…

Mizora: *screams and claws at her chest dropping to her knees* my lady you can’t! I made a mistake I simply didn’t know! I didn’t know it was you forgive me! It burns! IT BURNS!!

Lucy: *waves her hand making her disappear* away with you… *looks at karlach and wyll* I… have some explaining to do. Don’t I?…

Wyll: that… would be putting it lightly but, yes.

Lucy: okay, I kept this hidden because. Both of you would’ve killed me. Without hesitation. Wyll you were hunting a devil, and Karlach you were being hunted by a devil. Specifically- *holds up the head before dropping it back in the bag* this devil. And… I was. Just a human before this… I’m… I’m still learning how to deal with this… this world, exists only as a- oh god how do I explain a videogame-… as a story. Where I’m from… and… the more I feed into this body I’ve been given… I feel a part of my soul change in a way that I may never be able to change back… like the tadpole seemed to, bite off a chunk of it when I had to over power the goblins… I know I’ve no place to ask you to stay, or ask anything of you but-… Wyll, you need power still, and without mizora you’ve just got your sword so-… *thinks before feeding into the power again and hoping an act of good would make a difference as she summons a contract, words appearing on it as she speaks* you, can borrow some of my power. And in exchange… just don’t die… that’s all I ask don’t die… there’ll be no repercussions if you do just it costs 200 gold for withers to revive you and right now we don’t have that sort of money.

Wyll: *reads it and finds every word to be genuine with no room for her to cause harm* alright. *signs it making a ring appear on his pinkie finger and one on hers*

Lucy: it’s a pinkie promise then… thank you- and, Karla-

Karlach: *lifts her into a tight, warm hug* I can touch, I can touch people again… thank you. Thank you so, so much.

Lucy: *smiles and hugs her back* you should have never of ended up in the hells, and I’m so sorry it took this long to set you free.

Karlach: I’m free… I’m really free.

*the next morning*

Raphael: My my, what manner of place is this?

Lucy: *appearing as a lilac tiefling again* Aw look, it’s Mephistopheles boy. Done with your little tantrum over the crown I see?

Raphael: *brain short circuiting having no idea how she knows who he is yet or about the crown or who his father is* I? Pardon?

Lucy: Well? Come on then. Do your little song and dance, present me with your bread and circuses. I know for a fact you’re not really here to help us in exchange for our souls.

Raphael: *brain still reeling* Ah- I… What??

Karlach: Mephistopheles? That’s his son?

Wyll: never mind that I think she broke him.

Lucy: it helps knowing things, you can throw it out like a proverbial smoke bomb and catch even devils off guard-

#Lucy Tav #Lucy oc #archdevil Lucy #devil tav #devil oc #Raphael bg3 #mizora #Wyll bg3 #Karlach bg3

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barclaysangel · 5 months ago

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A Siren’s Embrace; Chapter 5: Connection of the Sea

Here's chapter 5, y'all! Aaaand the last chapter for now because I haven't finished chapter 6. My brain is all over the place, doing homework, starting my masters program in less than 3 weeks, AND got a new sapphic story idea that involves witches. So...yeah. I'm a mess. Buuuuut, hopefully you guys like this chapter. It's more angsty than the other chapters and once again, I projected so much of myself and my family life into Nika and her family. So things that are said near the end are things that happened in my real life. It's fine, I'll live. But please comment, comments make me feel happy and I hope to one day get back into this story because I do have ideas for further chapters, I just can't figure out a proper ending. I still hope y'all like this story though.

Thank you and enjoy :)

Word count: 2K

Tags: @streets-in-paradise @king-of-wicked

Nika’s world was falling apart.

At least that’s what it felt like to her.

Her world felt like it was slowly dissipating, crumbling, going to turn to dust and vanish at any given moment. She knew her parents loved her, wanted the best for her and all. But if she had to hear about how she needed to get her shit together and figure out what she wanted to do in life one more time, she’s going to explode.

Whether that be in rage or depression was unclear and would end up being a surprise to Nika and everyone around her.

She knew she should figure out what the hell she wanted to do. But for fuck’s sake, she just graduated high school. Nika’s going to a community college close by to figure out what she wanted to major in, what she felt connected to because high school certainly didn’t create any connections. But she knows her father would prefer it if she figured it out now and went straight into a university.

But…she couldn’t. Nika didn’t know what she wanted to do yet, she was barely 18 years old. She just needed some time to figure it out before condemning herself to a path where she would feel complacent or self-loathing.

Is that really too much to ask?

“Nika?” Pearl said her name, snapping the human out of her thoughts, a small look of concern in her sea green eyes. “Okay? You are quiet. Sad. Why are you quiet and sad?”

Nika put on a smile and shook her head. “Sorry, I’m just distracted. I’m okay, you don’t need to worry. I’m not sad.”

“Yes you are,” Pearl replied quickly as she stared so deeply at Nika, “I can feel it. Your sadness. It is strong. I feel your sadness.”

Is it possible for mermaids to just feel what you’re feeling? She wondered silently. Maybe. There was still so much that Nika didn’t know about humans yet, she wouldn’t entirely be surprised. Sometimes it felt like Pearl was staring so deep into the human’s soul, discovering all of her deepest and darkest secrets.

It must be an effect that the mermaid has on her, that’s all.

Nika didn’t say anything for a moment, her mouth opening and then closing before just shaking her head as she looked away. “I’ll be okay. Really. It’s…hard to explain anyway, you really don’t need to worry about it.”

“I worry,” Pearl said, once again without any hesitation, “you are sad. You are in pain. In here,” She pressed a wet finger to Nika’s chest, right where her heart is, “and in here.” Her finger moved to the center of the human’s forehead.

She didn’t really know what to say at first, looking away again until the mermaid rested her hand on her shoulder. “Speak to me…please?”

Something about Pearl was truly persuasive, even when there was no siren song used. There was something gentle about her touch, the look in her eyes, that felt like maybe, just maybe, she could understand.

“It’s…hard. To talk about. To explain. No one else really understands except my friends but…it’s not fair to burden them with these problems. My parents…they’re tough. Sometimes too tough. I’m their only child and they want the best for me but…it’s too much. It feels like I can’t breathe around them. It…it feels like I’m drowning.”

Pearl tilted her head slightly. “You are not drowning. I saved you.”

Nika couldn’t help but to smile a little, despite how she was feeling at the moment. “Not drowning literally. Just…feeling. In here and here,” she pointed to her own chest and head, “it feels like I’m drowning and I can’t breathe. It’s too much and they just don’t get it. They don’t see it. I…I don’t think they ever will. I just…I feel so alone here…”

The human didn’t even know why she was unloading like this in front of Pearl. The mermaid would truly never understand those pressures and there was nothing that could be done. Nothing would change, Nika had accepted it a long time ago. Didn’t make it hurt any less, but it was something she just needed to get over.

Yet here Pearl was, frowning, looking as if she was upset on Nika’s behalf. Like she had been the one who was wronged. Finally, the mermaid spoke, “I have a gift for you. Stay, please?” The human barely had time to nod before Pearl flung herself into the ocean.

Maybe you freaked her out. Congrats, stupid, you weirded out a mermaid with your pathetic family issues. She thought to herself and she ran both of her hands over her face and up through her hair, trying to block out the pessimistic voice.

Nika took a few deep breaths to push back the tears that were threatening to expose themselves in her eyes before the green-eyed mermaid came back, her blue tail swishing in the water, and holding out a rather large conch shell to the human.

This wasn’t Pearl’s first gift of seashells at all. She had given her many that now reside in Nika’s room, all of which she had claimed to her parents that she found from her recent trips to the beach. But this was certainly the largest one, barely fitting in both of the mermaid’s hands.

Huh…receiving gifts must be Pearl’s love language.

“Oh, Pearl…it’s beautiful,” Nika said softly before carefully taking the conch shell from her, holding it in her own hands, “you didn’t need to give this to me.”

“I did.” Pearl replied before she pulled herself onto the rock, sitting right beside the human with their shoulders now touching. “Shell is strong. Shiny. Beautiful. You are strong. Shiny. Beautiful. You are my seashell.”

Nika wasn’t quite sure what Pearl meant by the last part, but either way, it made her heart flutter from the compliments. She was sure that this was the mermaid’s way to try and cheer her up and in a way, it worked.

She really did appreciate the sentiment, even if it was a bit out of the ordinary.

Oh, what the hell, she was friends with a fucking mermaid. It’s been out of the ordinary for a long time.

“Thank you. Really. I…I appreciate it,” Nika said with a soft smile as she held the conch close to her, “I’m at my happiest whenever I see you. You just…make me feel better.”

Her confession caused Pearl to smile more and got a certain glint in her eyes, as if she had decided on something. “I will see you more. I will make you happy.”

The human didn’t have time to question her on that before she realized how late it was and that she needed to go home soon, promising Pearl that she would try and see her again tomorrow.

Nika almost wished that she hadn’t gone home when she did arrive, because the questions on her whereabouts were thrown again.

“I went to the beach. I wanted to get some fresh air, it’s gonna be weird not going to school for a while.” She threw out her excuse to them, thankful that having overprotective parents caused her to be pretty decent when it came to lying.

“You’ve been going out to the beach so often, Annika” Her mother started to tell her, “you need to be more careful. Maybe you should be staying inside some more, especially with what happened to Erickson recently.”

Nika knew exactly what her mother was referring to. Erickson was an old and irritating man, someone who often spent his time harassing preteen girls and throwing his beer bottles or other garbage into the ocean. Nika would clean up after him whenever she saw his trash and throw them away properly. She was never fond of him but since they lived close by, she just tried to steer clear from him and pay him no mind.

It would be a lot easier now since Erickson’s body was found just a couple of days ago on the shores of the beach. Well, rather what was left of him. From what Nika had heard, he had been mauled apart. She had to sneak around to the other side of the beach to see Pearl because of all the caution tape around and trying to investigate the scene.

“Erickson was a drunk who probably decided to go swimming in the middle of the ocean and got attacked by a shark. Or maybe some other wild animal, who knows,” She told both of her parents with a nonchalant look on her face, “I’m very careful whenever I go, okay? I don’t go too far into the ocean when I go surfing or swimming. Really, I’m not going to die.”

Let’s just forget about the part where you did drown when you went surfing and only survived because of a mermaid, they certainly didn’t need to know about that.

“That doesn’t matter, you need to be more careful. I don’t even know what you do at the beach, you should be doing more exercise so you can lose weight.” Her father told her suddenly, even pointedly staring at her stomach.

If Nika could scream from the top of her lungs without facing any repercussions, she absolutely would at that very moment.

If she had a dollar for every fucking time her father or both her parents mentioned her weight in a negative manner, she would’ve skipped town, left Neptune Bay in the rearview mirror, because she’d be a fucking billionare.

Nika wasn’t skinny. If she thought hard about it, she hadn’t been skinny since she was in kindergarten. She was chubby but she tried to not let it bother her. She tried to own up to her curves and find the beauty within herself, the beauty that Jay and Lucy point out all the time.

But then her parents’ open their mouths with their opinions and all that self-confidence goes straight down the drain.

Don’t you see what you’re fucking doing to me? You’re killing me. You’re. Fucking. Killing. Me. I want to hurt myself because of you, don’t you understand that? Just fucking look at me and understand that you make me hate myself!

Despite her boiling emotions, Nika didn’t say a word. She forced a smile like she always did, pretending to let her father’s comments roll down her back, and walked into her room.

Her self-hatred bubbled inside of her, wanting so badly to cry. To hurt herself. Scratch and punch her stomach like she sometimes did when the words became too much. But this time, Nika held it in. She pulled the conch shell from her bag, holding it close to her chest as if it was a teddy bear, and rocked herself slightly as she sat on her bed.

Strong. Shiny. Beautiful. That’s what Pearl said I am. Strong. Shiny. Beautiful. Maybe she sees something in me that no one else has seen before and we’ve only known each other for a few weeks. To her, I’m strong and shiny and beautiful. Pearl makes me feel happy and special.

Nika tried to hang onto those words that the mermaid said to her. She ate less than usual for dinner and was more quiet, faking laughs and conversations to avoid suspicion, but that was all. Just enough for her parents to not get on her case again.

She kept it all inside until she went to bed, clutching onto her precious pearl necklace and cried her heart out. Nika let her tears soak her pillow, fully prepared to cry herself to sleep like she’s done plenty of times before.

Although she couldn’t quite fall asleep. She woke up multiple times throughout the knife, experiencing random pains throughout her body, most prominent in the lower half. Nika’s legs twitched against her will, feeling like the inside was twisting and bending. It was worse than the typical soreness she’d feel when her father forced her to go hike with him.

She didn’t know what the hell was going on.

Maybe she was experiencing some psychosomatic symptoms of anxiety again, but they were surely different this time.

Eventually, exhaustion took over and Nika finally fell asleep, hoping for a better day tomorrow.

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