#wait till they hear how dire my situation is right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dodo-begone · 4 years ago

Text

Fear for my Lover

Pairing: DSMP!Quackity x Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warning: Blood, stitches, bruises, injuries, cursing, frontier first aid (sorry if i missed something)

Summary: Life had been busy lately. Very busy. The night was peaceful and you were more than happy to take advantage of the quiet. Even with Quackity there with you. Fate had other plans though and absolutely ruined what would've been an amazing night.

A/n: i,,, this was meant to be SHORT but also- haha i got 2-3 more parts planned brrrrrr. Also used a dialogue prompt thingy for this- you'll see them in there. They're highlighted.

You thought nothing of it when Quackity said that he was going out. Beforehand he told you that he might have to stay late to do some work. You weren’t sure if he had finished or not, but his departure only confirmed the thought that no, he had not finished business.

With a sigh, you walk over to the couch and flop onto it. The exhaustion from the many months of constant work was catching up. You missed how life was before. Even when you were stuck under Schlatt’s rule on Manberg. Yes, it was quite tedious and annoying, but you weren’t completely rebuilding a nation from the ground up along with its citizens.

The physical work of building was tiresome, but something relaxation and a few nights of rest could easily reverse the effects. Though the mental strain was a completely different story. All of the paperwork was tedious and could keep you up at night just because you need to get one more paper done before dawn. Or just knowing that you aren’t able to help everyone in the new L’manberg. So many had given up hope, were tired of the vicious cycle that they had been caught in. It may not have been going on long, but it still had its effect on everyone all the same.

So much work and so little recreational time. There was little time to care for oneself with so much work on their plate. Let alone spend time with your loved ones. Even if they lived in the same house as you. It felt alienating when you weren’t able to even have a small conversation with your significant other.

Your thoughts were deafeningly loud. Sometimes even covering each other when they brought up memories of anxieties of the past and future. That’s why it was rather surprising when the entire L’manberg cabinet ran through your front door in a frenzy. Jumping off of the couch, you try to survey the situation. What in Pime’s name could be going on?

Their hysterical cacophony of voices were all that reached your ears. You didn’t even need to hear their words when you saw Quackity’s limp body in Fundy’s arms.

Without a second thought, you push your way over to Fundy and Quackity, quickly searching him for injuries. Well, the injuries part was pretty obvious with all of the blood. But the extent of the injuries were another story. What could be going on? How bad was it? Oh Prime, why was there so much blood?

In the frenzy you must’ve said something because something happened. One moment you are near the entrance with your beloved in the arms of his co-worker and the next you’re tending to his wounds in your shared bed. Nobody else was in the room. It was just you and Quackity. Your Quackity. And a bowl of water and a small stack of wash clothes and towels.

Your hands quacked from both worry and the sobs you were desperately holding back. Something was stabbing the interior of your throat as it closed from the overwhelming emotions that filled your body.

What terrified you was that Quackity wasn’t completely unconscious. He definitely wasn’t completely there but he was still awake and babbling. More muttering because of how frail and faint his voice was, but it was still a bunch of nonsense. How you wished to know what he was saying, what he was thinking. Now wasn’t the time, but you feared that if you didn’t know now that he’d never tell you. Shit hit the fan and he came back like this. Either his pride or his desire to “protect” you would keep him from spilling the tea. This was your only chance.

All you were able to do was open your mouth before Quackity was making this harder. He was extremely weak from the blood loss and you were in a race against time to stop the river of blood that just seemed to flow freely from his wounds. You had been holding his bigger wounds tightly, trying to put as much pressure as you could to slow the blood loss or stop it completely. Each attempt to settle Quackity only leads to him resisting more, weakly fighting you to get up. Soon his behavior had gone on for too long, in your humble opinion, and he was still as stubborn as he was in the beginning.

With what little common sense you had left in your nearly hysterical state, you tried to reason with him. “Quackity,” you pleaded, still trying to gently push him back onto the bed so he was laying. “Please lay down, Duckie. It’s for your own good. Just let me bandage you up and I’ll leave you alone. Okay?”

From an outsider’s perspective, the attempt was silly. It really wouldn’t have gotten much of a reaction from your confused lover. And yet you still tried anyway, hoping that anything would help at this point. You were desperate.

His silence spoke volumes. In some stroke of luck, Quackity heard your words. That or he became too tired to fight and “speak”. Either way, you were taking what you could get. It was a victory and your goal was reached. Without much, if any fight at all, you managed to get Quackity back into bed and went back to patching up his wounds.

They were much worse than you hoped. Your wish that it was a smaller wound with a ton of blood oozing out was swiftly dashed when you started to clean up the blood from its source. Well, more accurately from anywhere and cleaning until you found the source. Although a bad idea, you had patched up his smaller, easy to access wounds. Though you couldn’t dodge the challenge that stood before you, glaring at you from Quackity’s face.

Petechiae, scratches, and bruises also decorated his face in a hideous manner. The centerpiece of it all was a large scar that traveled from his lip to his eye, all on the left side, was the most obvious wound. The others could heal on their own, but that cut, could you even call it a cut, was in dire need of assistance. It was probably already infected and trying to heal itself. But it was too big, too wide to heal naturally. Intervention was needed and it was needed stat!

Blankly you stare at his face, mind running a mile a minute trying to think of remedies and solutions. Sadly there weren’t many options available. Ponk was too far away to call for his medical expertise, not even considering how late it was. Would he even still be awake? Let alone awake enough to do stitches? You could wait till morning but who knows what condition Quackity would be in at dawn. Something had to be done and it had to be done now. Only one plausible solution remained and it definitely wasn’t pleasant.

Swiftly you leave Quackity, moving out of the room as quickly as you could. Quackity tried to reach out to you but just missed your sleeve. Though you didn’t notice or know. You had things to get done and to get them done you needed equipment. Desperately you search around the house, pulling out anything you’d need. More clean towels, a bowl of clean water since the one you had been using was more than dirtied and the towels absolutely soiled. Placing them half-hazardly on a flat surface, you scurried around to find the other necessary equipment. After having to catch your sewing tin and lighter from falling a few times, you grab everything you previously gathered and make your treacherous journey back to Quackity.

When you return, he’s once again sitting up in bed. Weakly, mind you, as he fell back onto the mattress at the sight of you. You wished to scold him for going against what you asked of him, but it didn’t matter now. With no time to waste, you dump your supplies onto the nightstand and fumble around, trying to get everything prepared.

As nimbly as your shaky hands could spare, you set up your thread and needle as if you were going to start sewing a gorgeous design into a quilt. You stared at the bowl of water you had, debating whether or not to use your sad little lighter to heat up that big ole bowl… it’s better if you didn’t. Other than being faster, how much better would it be for sanitizing the needle? It’d take ages to get the water boiling and even then it might not be enough. A flame straight out of a lighter? Seemed better. It got the job done quicker and would be warmer than the boiling water so it was going to kill more bacteria and germ than the boiling water. That’s what you hoped, at least. This is why you aren’t a medic.

Shakily, you ignite the lighter and hold the needle to the flame, slowly rotating it to equally distribute the heat. As tedious and anxiety inducing as it was, it would be worth it in the end. The stitch is only temporary until you can get Ponk to come over, hopefully by early tomorrow. Or later today? What time even was it- Snap out of it! This isn’t the time to be doing this!

You didn’t know how hot the needle had to be to be considered “sanitized” but you had waited long enough. At least that’s what it felt like. Plus the part of the needle you’re holding is getting pretty hot.

When you go in for the first suture, the hiss of pain before you even punctured the skin was a good indicator to you. Not that he was awake enough to still be actively feeling things, but to be able to vocally express his pain and that the needle was hot enough to probably kill most bacteria and germs if it hurt to touch. Hesitation is making you its bitch, holding you still and making you contemplate if what you’re doing is right. Of course what you’re doing is right. It has to be. It’s one of the best and only options you have.

Before you did anything else, you grabbed one of the towels and rolled it up. Gently you pried his mouth open and placed it in like a gag. He wasn’t going to be able to grip much and he’d be grinding his teeth together from pain. Previous experience with stitches and similar frontier medical procedures has taught you one thing; having a gag to bite on helps every part. The patient gets a way to release their pain and the “doctor” is less likely to be hurt by the patient since the patient will have something else to focus on hurting. It doesn’t work entirely but it’s better than hearing the unmuffled screams of agony and feels better to have something to grip onto as hard as you can.

After getting him situated, you position yourself again. With a deep breath, you start off the first suture. Quackity’s muffled scream was heartbreaking yet shocking. Even with you expecting it, it still spooked you a bit. But everything was okay. This was for the best. And then you continued on. Slowly you added stitch after stitch after stitch until you thought you did enough. Really it was a combination of “this is adequate” and “i’m too anxious to keep going because what if i mess up”. Without anesthetics, it was just horrific for both parties to go through with this endeavor. He was moving around so much, trying to twist and turn away from the pain being done to him. His movements were so often and large enough to make you nervous about going near his eyes. What if you poked it out? Or made him blind?

Looking back at the stitches and what they held together, it was obvious that his eyesight was going to be impaired from now on. His eyes were looking completely different from each other now. The regular on the right and the horrific product of whatever he did on his left. A white film covered his eyes like a snow blanket. He was now blind in that eye or going blind.

Realistically, he was going blind but you still held out for the unrealistic hope that he’d be almost entirely okay afterwards. You knew it was unrealistic, but you still hoped.

You Quackity didn’t deserve this.

Once you have cleaned up the mess you made, you start to pack everything up. Needle in the bowl to be cleaned, remaining threat back into the tin, bowls moved away from where they’d get bumped and dumped. Slowly and methodically you finish your tasks. The adrenaline of the night is slowly leaving your body and exhaustion is once again taking hold of you. Oh how you hated that. Absolutely despised the feeling.

After everything was to your liking, you go to check on Quackity again before you leave to give and get some silent rest for the two of you. It’s the least you could do for him after all of this.

He seemed comfortable after everything, peaceful in fact. It was such a calming sight and it eased your guilt of hurting him. Everything you did was for the greater good, you mentally remind yourself. It was to help prevent further infection and it was only temporary. Until you could get proper help for him.

Without much thought, you sit by the bed and lay your head upon it. So much blood got onto the blankets and the sheets. You’d need to clean that quickly. After Quackity gets help and is moved or can be moved, that is. Which would hopefully be tomorrow. Slowly you start to doze off. Or was it zoning out? Either or you were slowly calming down further. To the point where you almost fell asleep.

Jolting awake, you begrudgingly haul yourself off the floor and start your long and tiring journey to the living room. The couch was comfier than the floor, after all. No matter how much you wanted to sleep by Quackity.

Your dawdling is stopped by something on your sleeve. At first you think your sleeve got caught on something so you tug in hopes of being untangled from said object. Nothing happens so you just tug harder. But still nothing happens. Eventually your little tug of war becomes too annoying and has been prolonged enough. You whirl around to see what in Prime’s name you could be caught on.

Low and behold it was the man of the hour, surprisingly. Quackity had grabbed onto your sleeve and just held you there. Confused, you walk back to the bed and sit, holding his face and inspecting for any new signs of pain. Anything that would show that he was feeling something different, something worse. You hoped that he wasn’t feeling like that, but it was a naive hope. Wounds were not an unfamiliar concept to you and yet you’d always hope for such fantastical things to the point where it was odd.

In return for you holding his face, he went to gently hold yours. A soft smile makes an appearance upon your face after the action.

“How’re you feeling, Ducking,” you whisper. Silence once again makes its presence known and it’s very loud and obnoxious about it. “Sorry. I know you’re in a lot of pain. That was stupid of me to ask.”

Quackity chuckles at your slip up and you’re more than happy to join him. Slowly your chuckling drowned out by the silence that had obnoxiously told you how wrong you were to ask your beloved if he was in pain when it was more than obvious that he was, indeed, in pain. You take a deep breath and release a sigh.

“You need to sleep. It’ll help with the healing and hopefully with the pain until tomorrow. I plan on calling Ponk to do some actual doctor shit on you because Prime knows how amazing my skills are.” Once again you attempt to leave Quackity to sleep, but stopped by his grip on your sleeve.

“Please,” he rasped. God his voice was so hoarse after everything. You felt terrible as you were part of the cause and yet you couldn’t do anything nor bring yourself to feel too bad. It was all for the greater good, after all. For his health.

“Please what?”

“Please stay with me,” he begged, looking straight into your eyes with his only working one. The sight was pitiful. Such a prideful man who could do so much left in such a weakened state. You hated seeing him like this. Nobody liked seeing their loved ones in a position like that. And how could you deny him that request, especially with what he went through tonight. You still didn’t know what it was but the aftermath was horrific enough to give a small clue as to what happened.

“Of course,” you reply, smiling warmly and climbing into bed with him. The moment you’re under the blankets and sheets, he gently pulls you into a hug. For his or your sake, you’re unsure. You hope that it’s his though. “Anything for my Duckie.”

#dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #quackity x reader #dsmp!quackity x reader #dsmp shipping #dsmp!quackity #mcyt shipping #x reader #tw: gore #tw: injury #tw: violence #tw: bruises #tw: injuries #tw: cursing #tw: frontier first aid #c: quackity #dodo writing

216 notes · View notes

wallwriterstuff · 4 years ago

Text

These Violent Delights ||Alec Volturi x Female Reader||

Part 3 of a request for @tiger-khans-blog

Part 1 - Obsession Part 2 - When You’re Lost I’ll Leave My Gaslight On

Warnings: Yandere!Alec, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships and implied non-con later on. This is possibly one of the darkest fics I have ever written so please be aware if controlling behaviour, gaslighting etc. is triggering to you, do not read this fic.

This fic in particular contains graphic descriptions of violence and injury further down.

Words: 5543

Summary: With no idea what is and isn’t real anymore you’re beginning to lose your mind and suspect your loving mate isn’t all he seems to be. Desperate for some semblance of sanity you try one last time to clear your head, and the consequences are dire.

Demetri had suspected that there was something more going on beyond the surface. Y/N Swan was quite a sweet little thing and he had missed her greatly, but he respected her decision – as had Felix – to create some distance between them so she could learn to get along with Alec. Now Demetri was wondering if she’d ever made that decision at all. With increasing frequency Alec had burst into his room or the throne room with the declaration you were missing, and Demetri had immediately put his gift to good use. In almost all the situations Demetri had prepared for the worst, perhaps he’d find you kidnapped or injured somewhere after an outing gone wrong? But every time he’d found you you had been perfectly fine and dreadfully confused as to why he was there at all.

You were always doing quite mundane things. He didn’t even need to track you half the time to tell Alec you were at that little café whose pastries you adored. Sometimes you ventured further out, wanting to see the leaves changing colour in autumn in the park nearby. Other times you were literally right on their doorstep, drawing on the edge of the fountain. On those occasions Demetri stayed with you, letting you have a few minutes more of freedom, because he had started to notice a disturbing pattern – every time he found you you looked more and more lost. You had adamantly refused to accept Alec had not seen your note the first few times, but the doubt slowly crept in until you were entirely unsure of what you had or hadn’t done. Alec was never violent upon your reunion, playing the part of the concerned mate perfectly. He was always so relieved to have you back, but the boy seemed oblivious that you were obviously suffering.

You had lost that spark you used to have in your eyes, and your posture had become more slumped over. You were meeker, agreeing to whatever was put forward to you without question more often than not. Demetri was sure he could tell you the sky was purple and you’d whole heartedly agree, even if the blue was staring you right in the face. Your withdrawn personality didn’t seem to trouble Alec but it bothered him greatly. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but you were a shell of your former self, an anxious, meek little thing who looked nowhere near as happy as she should given she had found her mate. He had caught you in the kitchen once, tired from a day of studying Italian with Marcus as you had become want to do, berating yourself for dropping a pan on your toes while cooking. To say he was surprised to hear your cursing your ‘clumsy human hands’ was an understatement.

No, no Demetri was beyond suspicious, especially when you began to go ‘missing’ more frequently, looking more and more desperate each time he found you further and further out. You had fought him the last time he found you, pounding against his chest and begging him to not take you back. His concern had brought him in all good faith to Alec’s door while you slept one night.

“What can I do for you?” Alec asked, head tilting curiously. Demetri frowned.

“It’s about Y/N. I have some concerns, Alec.” He answered. Alec’s frown immediately depeened, his eyes growing darker.

“What concerns? Is she sick? She seemed fine when I left her to sleep.”

“No, no nothing like that, though I fear her mind may not be healthy. She seems…anxious, desperate to be out of the castle. Is there something going on Alec?” he asked. Alec’s already dark eyes turned black, the red leeching out of his irises so fast Demetri was almost shocked. His expression was cold as an arctic wind and his voice held little room for argument when he answered him.

“That is of no concern to you, she’s shared her worries with me already. You overstep Demetri, she’s my mate and I’ll care for her how I see fit.”

“I simply want to know if there is anything I can do to help. It’s no secret we care for the girl to Alec, let us help.” He frowned.

“What she needs from you, Demetri, is to be left the hell alone. Stop filling her head with poison. I know you talk at the fountain. She’s upset because you suggested she might be allowed to visit her family one day. They haven’t written to her in months, the false hope crushed her. Leave my mate to me and stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He snarled quietly. Demetri hissed quietly, his irritation flaring.

“What are you talking about? A letter arrived for her Tuesday gone.” He received a door to his face as his answer, the wood actually splintering a little with the force Alec slammed it with. He knew you had been getting letters frequently from the Cullen’s and your sister, he had seen some of them when the secretary was sorting the mail out, so why hadn’t you been getting them? If you were in such a deep spiral surely it was a contributing factor. The only thing he could think of was that the secretary hadn’t delivered them. But why? he flitted straight to her desk without another moment to spare, finding her packing up to leave for the evening. She jumped at his sudden appearance.

“Demetri, I didn’t see you there, how can I help you?” she was a new girl, the fourth one in the past two months, and he didn’t care to remember her name. His head tilted.

“You received a letter the other day for Y/N Swan did you not?” he questioned, leaning against her desk. She frowned, nodding.

“I did, I gave it to Alec to deliver, did it not reach her?” she asked, looking somewhat anxious now. Demetri paused, letting his mind work it over. So, Alec had been supposed to deliver that had he? How many more had he gotten his grubby little hands on? Demetri felt a quiet sense of horror dawn on him. It made a lot more sense suddenly, why you weren’t getting any of your family’s letters. Alec had taken them all to keep you from getting in touch with them. Was your silence towards himself and Felix the same? Orchestrated by Alec so not even you knew the real reason the three of you no longer spoke?

“Not on this occasion. Not to worry, thank you for your help, sweet thing.” He shot her a charming smile to mask his sudden anxiety and disappeared as quickly as he came, heading straight for the throne room. Maybe you hadn’t been going mad at all, maybe Alec was the one driving you insane…

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Caius growled, beyond annoyed with the way he had flung the door open in his haste. Demetri grimaced.

“My apologies Masters, but I need to talk to you urgently.”

You had to get out this time. The walls of old buildings scraped at your hands as you bolted down one alleyway after the next, swinging around corners and doing your best to stay upright as the cobblestones did their best to trip you. You couldn’t take it anymore. Your anxiety was at an all time high, panic attacks in the morning a common thing as you dreaded the day ahead – another day of disappointing Alec in all your human imperfection. There was no one you could turn to for comfort either, not with Demetri so busy all the time. He was less of a friend and more of a guard, dragging you back each time you left as Alec had promised you his duty as a guard entailed. The worst part was that you knew your feelings of inadequacy were completely unnecessary because you weren’t the one in the wrong, Alec was.

It had become more and more obvious he wasn’t letting you leave the castle, and sneaking out when you could became your one chance to see sunlight, to have any sort of freedom. When you’d tried to ask him about it he’d brushed you off again, telling you you were being silly and reminding you of all the times he’d taken you out to the Gardens, all the gifts you’d been given as apologies for missed opportunities to venture out into the world…but he’d been lying as long as you’d known him. Maybe he had learned to control his urges, but not his darkest impulses. Alec had wanted you all to himself and he had managed to succeed with his lies and deceit. It had been a complete accident, when you came across the mountain of lies he’d told. You had been waiting to surprise him (having stayed up to wait for him to finish his guard shift) when you spilt a glass of apple juice down your shirt. His closet was the closest place to find a replacement and it would hardly be the first time you’d taken a shirt of his.

The shrine in his closet was just too much.

Everything that had gone missing lay at an alter dedicated to you. Tears blurred your vision as the flash of ivory and familiar, scribbly writing permeated your mind once more. Letters – Bella’s letters. Your sister had never forgotten you. Alec had simply made you think she had. You had been right all along, the bundled-up letters proved as such, he had always been a monster. Selfish and ugly all the way to the core, Alec Volturi had never been your Prince Charming. How many other lies had he told? He’d isolated you until all you had was him, till you relied on him to get you through your day. No more. You tripped over your own feet, vision blurred by tears. The ground rushed up to meet you, a sharp sting ripping through your knee as you cried out, catching yourself with your hands before you could smash your face into the stone. Gasping for air, you tried desperately to fill your lungs, the rising hysteria making it difficult to steady your breathing. What if you couldn’t escape? Demetri always found you and he’d drag you back there, you knew he would. He couldn’t be allowed to find you, not this time, you had to keep moving and –

“Signorina?”

Your head snapped up, body scrambling to right itself despite the deep throbbing in your knee. A young man not too much older than yourself was slowly coming towards you, hands raised and expression concerned. He had a sort of roguish charm about him, tousled dark hair and equally as dark eyes (too lose to Alec’s angry onyx to be of any comfort) set in a tanned face. He had more colour to his skin than Alec could ever hope to have. With the sleeves of a plain white shirt rolled up to his elbows, top buttons undone and smart pants on, he must have been coming home from a shift as a waiter perhaps, maybe a barista in one of the fancier coffee houses in town, but you didn’t trust him at all. How could you trust anyone when the one person you had relied on had been a lying, manipulative, deceitful little –

“S-stay back.” You stammered, scrambling to get to your feet now. The tear in your skin oozed fresh blood, dampening your skin and making you whimper. It wasn’t that it hurt necessarily, though it did sting terribly, it was more the fear that you knew what lurked in the shadows of Volterra and if anyone smelled that…well, Demetri was a hundred times more likely to find you now, wasn’t he?

“I don’t mean you any…erm…ah…hurt?” he tried, his accent thick and his English clearly not at the level of fluency. If you were in a better state of mind you’d be at least grateful he tried, however he was still approaching you and you didn’t enjoy his proximity when you needed to move. You had to keep going, had to get to a bus stop or a train station, something! Was there even a place like that in Volterra? There had to be right? You took a step away from him, your leg failing you so you half fell, half limped forward. His arms were around you in an instant and you screamed, wriggling desperately to fight him off.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Merda! Smettila di lottare!” (Shit! Stop fighting!) he cursed, tightening his grip on you. Legs flailing, you threw your head back in a desperate attempt to get him to let go, your skull protesting as bone crunched beneath it. His arms dropped and you darted forward, only for your knee to give way once more. With another loud curse the boy was on-top of you then, glancing around wildly to see if anyone had noticed your scuffle yet. His weight atop you was almost suffocating given how much trouble you had already had breathing, and tears filled your eyes as you wriggled to try and be free of him.

“Get off of me! Help!” you screamed. Blood dripped from his nose onto your cheeks, hot and thick and oozing slowly down your cheek. “Stop it!” Strong hands encircled your wrists, pinning them harshly to the stone beneath you. It dug into your spine uncomfortably and it became very clear very quickly you were not escaping this boy.

“Stop!” he snapped, muttering a few choice words in Italian you had heard Felix use once or twice. His expression was contorted into a mask of pain, his nose swollen but not broken and his body holding tight to your own to keep you from moving. Your struggling was only serving to make you brush against him though, and it was clear the effect it was having on him was not helping him decide to let you go. If you had been in your right mind, you would have understood this boy was only trying to help, stop you moving to ensure you didn’t hurt yourself further, but in the moment your reality was warped and far too terrifying for you to see sense.

“Fuoco! Fuoco!” (Fire! Fire!) Your father had always taught you to tell fire rather than help, it attracted more attention he said. You didn’t attract the kind of attention you wanted. The boy was thrown off of you in a blur of movement, his body smashing into the brickwork of the house across from you. You heard the bones shattering, his ear-piercing scream ringing in your ears as a black cloak obscured his attacker. With or without the cloak you knew who it was, the smaller, lean stature, the ferocity with which he tore into his victim. You whimpered, eyes turning away from the poor boy. There was no way to help him now, not when Alec was busy popping his bones through his skin like one might spear a sausage with a cocktail stick at a party. Rolling to your front, you tried desperately to get your trembling limbs to cooperate, your hysterical screaming echoing off of the walls.

You had barely limped three steps when the screeching behind you abruptly cut away into a gurgling sound. Ice cold hands found your shoulders and you whirled desperately to try and fend Alec off, only to freeze at the sight of the poor, mangled boy behind you. His actions may not have been good, but he didn’t deserve to be folded in on himself like a human pretzel, bones poking out of his skin and blood gushing from an open wound on his throat. He was drowning in crimson, choked by the same saccharine liquid Alec was licking off of his thumb now, onyx eyes boring into your own with his usual apathetic expression hiding the pure mania in his eyes.

He hadn’t even fed, he’d killed the boy for sport.

“See what happens when you go out alone little human?” he asked. The bile rose in your throat too quickly to stop it and Alec obligingly held your hair as you turned to the side and threw up at your feet, hot acid burning the back of your throat and stomach churning violently. Panting, you kept your wide-eyed stare fixed on the cobblestones. Even then it wasn’t enough, a trail of blood slowly seeping its way towards you, descending downhill like some morbid snake writhing between the stones. You couldn’t keep the tears away this time as Alec’s breath, metallic with the scent of another man’s blood, sent a wave of dizziness over you.

“P-please…please d-don’t…I can’t…” your head spun, too many thoughts and feelings crashing and colliding and rendering you a stammering mess before you finally grew mute, your body growing cold. Alec held you tenderly, like you were the only thing in the world to him that mattered, his embrace as soft as cotton but cold, as though death itself had shrouded you. In the distant parts of your mind you recognised he was talking to you, but you didn’t dare listen. He was the serpent that tempted Eve, a voice of velvet spinning spider webs to ensnare you. Dimly, you noted that the boy’s blood was running past your toes now.

Was this how it ended for you? Had Alec finally had enough of your obedience training? Clearly it hadn’t worked. You felt filthy to the core for enjoying his embrace, but his arms were strong and held you when your legs couldn’t anymore, his honeyed words a balm to your aching soul, promising his own brand of everlasting love - the same brand he’d gotten you hopelessly addicted to. Even his scent made your head swim, fresh linen that should be so crisp and clear, refreshing, just drowned you further. Nobody would come for you now. Alec had finally gotten you in his grasp just as he wanted and you were far, far too tainted for anyone to save. The wounds his love had inflicted too deep, festering and rotting you from the inside out, and the worst part was, you had let it happen.

You had accepted every kind word, every smile, every present, every touch, as a gift bestowed on you that you were unworthy of. So blinded by the dazzling display of redemption were you you hadn’t seen beyond the surface of the superficial affection he laid at your feet, too enamoured with all he had become to see the old monster lingering in every smile and darkening of his eyes. Alec had never changed, he had simply wore you down, so when his frozen fingers pushed your jaw upward and to the left you didn’t fight, because deep down you knew you’d never stood a chance.

“It’s alright Y/N, you’re only human,” he whispered, “You can be forgiven for that…”

“How?” your voice cracked. Forgiveness seemed impossible. If Bella or your father or anyone you loved could see you now you knew forgiveness would not be the word on their lips. How could you be forgiven for letting yourself fall so far? How could you be forgiven for being the reason that poor boy didn’t go home tonight? He had chosen to try and help you and it had only gotten him brutally murdered. The only thing Alec had ever been right about was that you were only human. None of the terrible things that had happened to you or anyone surrounding you were your fault. The blame lay solely at Alec’s feet.

“By acknowledging your flaws and becoming something more.”

Somehow, despite all the evidence before you, you really hadn’t expected him to bite down. Some part of you still thought he was above that maybe. It was like lava pouring straight from his mouth into your veins, filling your wound until it spilled over and shot down your arms, through your torso, scorching your nerve endings. It spread rapidly and you couldn’t bite back the bloodcurdling scream that left you. Alec held you tight as your body jerked, trying to escape the inescapable, the agony was all internal, a fire consuming you from the inside out.

“Alec! Alec what did you do!”

“What I had to to protect my mate!”

“Good god Alec…”

“Look at this mess.” The voices were indistinguishable, heightened and then muted, blending and yet distinctive. Your vision was too blurred to figure out the faces behind the cloaks swarming you, ripping you from one cold embrace to the next. Everything was too hot and you couldn’t escape it, no way to tear yourself out of your own body as it was flooded with acid.

“Shhhh, shhh little human.”

“Demetri get her out of here before she draws attention to this scene.”

“D-D-De-“ you barely got half of his name out before another scream broke through your throat. You didn’t have the strength to hold it back, couldn’t feel the grip your friend had on you. The world was slipping away inch by inch as you drowned in a pool of molten fire, the surface disappearing and taking you with it. Maybe this was hell? Maybe your weakness had earned you a spot in eternal fire and torment and this was only the beginning of a very long forever?

“Just give in Y/N, let go, just let go.” Somewhere through the pain you were sure Demetri had said this to you, and you battered heart didn’t know how to take it. It beat erratically, every frantic thud hoping beyond hope it would take you closer to a reunion with Bella, with the Cullen’s, with anyone you held dear. Did Demetri just want you to fall unconscious or did he mean you to really let go? What did you have to wake up for in Volterra after all? Alec would never let you leave, that much was clear now. You tried to hold onto these thoughts, really debate them and use them to ground you and keep you there, but they scattered like ash with the rest of you as the fire built to a raging inferno and melted everything you ever were.

The intense agony was all you knew now. What else could you do? Trapped in your head your only option was to count the seconds between one wave and the next, each drowning bout of flame lapping at your soul, disintegrating who you were piece by piece. By the time the fire had started to recede you weren’t sure how much time had passed, if time even had meaning. You were amazed your heart had held out under the assault of venom. It started at your extremities, like something in your chest was winching the fire back in, but as the sweet and numbing relief of the cold crept in at your toes the fire in your heart burned hotter. A grunting sound was the first thing you’d heard beyond the screaming in your head for a while, and you realised it was you, desperately fighting back the cry building in your throat as the white hot core in your chest blazed through the last of your humanity.

By the time you slumped back down, your consciousness drifting back to you slowly, you were struggling to remember how you had gotten in this predicament in the first place. Where were you? Who was around you? You wanted Bella, oh you wanted your sister so badly. The air around you felt heavier on your skin, saturated with sharp scents that overpowered your nose and made your tongue tingle when you opened your mouth for that first gasp of air. Your eyes were next to snap open, immediately focusing on the cracks in the wooden beams and the stone ceiling, the dust mites floating in the air. There was an assault of noise next, voices chattering and laughing, birds twittering, cars honking and more, so much more. Hands flying up to your ears, you noticed how it felt different to move, more fluid somehow, and the bright shine in the corner of your eye mad you sit up and move your hand back towards the light.

It glittered. Your hand was crystal, reflecting light and throwing it against the walls where it shattered into rainbow patterns, dazzling your too focused eyes.

“Y/N?”

Danger. Danger danger danger danger danger –

“Felix, give her time…it’s alright young one, we are not here to harm you.” Another foreign voice. You moved so fast everything should have blurred, your body twisting and turning agilely as you shot off of the soft mattress and hit the hard wall with crushing force, stone chipping and falling around you while you dug your nails into the natural rock of the wall. The noise that ripped from your throat was threatening, air rushing up from your lungs and pushing out between your teeth. It shocked you enough to make you freeze, brain scrambling to catch up because there was no way that noise had come from you. Wait, who were you again? Who were they? The voices seemed familiar, but different, their faces to. The men were beautiful in a way nobody should ever be allowed to be, the flawless planes of their faces also reflecting diamond light across the walls as one slowly crept closer to you. Another hiss of air escaped your throat, warning him to stay back.

“Now who needs to give her time.” Felix, that’s what he’d called him…Felix! Your mind dredged up the murky images on demand, and you couldn’t help but frown as you tried to clear the image in your head. It was like watching the memories flow through dirty water, Felix and Demetri helping decorate your room with you, avoiding you in the corridors, no longer talking to you because Alec –

Alec!

“No.” you whispered, startled again into standing up straight, hand flying to your throat as a foreign, bell-like voice rang out. Demetri paused, letting your wild eyes take in the room.

“He is not here Y/N, the Masters’ are punishing him for his…indiscretion, by making him miss your awakening.” Felix chose his words carefully as Demetri slowly continued forward. It was so hard to focus, so much noise, so much to see, so many thoughts spinning rapidly through your mind. It worked faster now, you noticed, your brain working at top speed in a way you knew you’d only achieve with a substantial amount of caffeine if you were still human. Thoughts of Alec consumed you. Where was he? What had become of the boy he had murdered? Would he be kinder to you now you were no longer human? No longer imperfect…

“Y/N, try to focus, I know there is a lot to process right now.” Demetri sounded apologetic almost and your eyes snapped to him.

“I want to go home.” You whispered. Even as you said the words there was an uncomfortable tug in your gut, like something sharp had nicked at your intestines almost. The idea made you uncomfortable.

“What you need right now is to feed.” Demetri amended, his hand gentle on your arm. His words started an inferno in your throat. It was like the worst sore throat you’d ever had multiplied ad infinitum, the burn scorching from top to bottom while your gut twisted horribly. You weren’t just hungry, you were starving.

“Of course that’s what she needs, what newborn doesn’t?” the voice was smooth, so hypnotic you couldn’t help but relax, silently pleading to hear more. If your blood hadn’t already frozen over, you swore it would have upon seeing Alec again. He held what you assumed was the secretary in his arms, given her smart attire, but it was difficult to focus on little else other than the thrumming of her pulse, the tattoo in your brain even more hypnotising than his voice had been. Neither Demetri nor Felix could catch you as you dipped beneath their arms and snatched the body straight out of Alec’s hands, desperate to stop the burning in your throat.

“Y/N don’t!” Demetri’s voice sounded far off, almost like you were listening to him through cotton wool. The sound of blood flowing, a heart thumping…it was far far louder. Your body moved on autopilot, teeth clamping onto soft flesh. After that first burst of sweet, hot blood, your mind went completely blank. The taste was sublime, so intense on your tastebuds like nothing else had ever been. It soothed the fire in your throat some, a torrent of red dousing the flames and soaking your skin. When you could no longer take mouthfuls of the saccharine substance, a needy whine bubbled up in your throat, the tap running dry far too soon for your liking. Your throat still itched.

“Shhhhhh, I know, I know. Do not worry my love, we’ll find you more.” That voice, that hypnotic voice…with the fire in your throat calmed somewhat it was clearer in your ears, helping to ease your desperation and focus your mind some. The fingers in your hair were gentle, the occasionally brush of their skin against yours warm and inviting. You leaned into the tender touch gratefully. There was a scent too, the most intoxicating, fresh linen and pine scent, a hint of something smoky lingering underneath. Inhaling deeply, you let strong arms pull you into a firm chest, taking in lungfulls of that heady scent and letting your turbulent thoughts calm to the rhythm of the fingers running through your hair.

“Alec…”

You gasped slightly, eyes snapping open from your half-lidded gaze. The name had filled you with fear, trepidation, but the sensations surrounding you right now…you were in a safe, hazy little bubble, it was difficult to feel the fear you thought you should. You had totally forgotten he was even in the room and it was no small shock to you that he was the one holding you, that he had created this internal sense of tranquillity you were drowning in.

“I will not let my mate starve, the Masters’ and their punishment be damned.” The smooth bass of a sprightly young voice that filtered in your ears was so similar yet so different. Alec’s voice was nothing short of mesmerising and when you looked up at him his face was just as distracting. Smooth, flawless skin, pale as the moonlight on ocean waves, stretched like an unblemished canvas across high cheekbones and a strong jaw. You could trace the perfect curve of dark eyebrows with your finger, run your hands through the soft tresses of dark hair that framed his face and brushed his eyes. Crimson red eyes peered into your own, softened by adoration and desire.

It was as if your very heart burst forth from your chest to reach out to his. You never wanted anyone else to look at you the way Alec did. Suddenly, nothing he did had mattered, because you were the imperfect one before. This man before you…you saw it now with your new eyes, saw his God-like status for what it really was. You had been unworthy until now. He had elevated you to the same status, was able to love you deeply now.

“Alec.” You breathed his name like it was a quiet prayer. His fingers moved from your hair to your jaw, slowly tracing over your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Welcome back. You are…you’re breath taking.” He gently lowered his forehead to yours and you pushed back lightly, desperate to envelop yourself in the warmth his skin now radiated.

“Really?” you whispered.

“Of course.” Alec promised. You closed your eyes, drowning in his heavenly scent.

“Y/N…you’ll need to feed some more. Perhaps we can then contact the Cullen’s and see about getting you home. We don’t usually allow newborns to stay in the castle.” Demetri spoke up finally, shattering the peaceful quiet surrounding you. That pinching sensation in your gut was back again, your eyes widening. Alec had finally accepted you! You were finally good enough and Demetri just wanted to – to send you away? No. No absolutely not. Any thoughts of going home that you had once entertained were long gone. You couldn’t leave now, not when you had to show Alec how grateful you were, how you were better now like this.

“Do I have to go?” you whispered. Alec shook his head.

“Of course not Y/N, your place is here, with me.” His lips were so soft on your own, a shiver rolling down your spine at the rightness of it. He was your perfect fit. You were made for all of his light and dark, to bear the brunt of his best and worst. You hadn’t been before, but you were ready now, ready to survive his obsession.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

And in the taste confounds the appetite.

Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so.

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Friar Lawrence, Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 Scene 6, by William Shakespeare

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #alec volturi #alec volturi x female reader #demetri volturi #felix volturi #dark themes #obsession #request

163 notes · View notes

leahseclipse · 4 years ago

Text

More fear than harm

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Luke Alvez x fem!reader

Summary: Panic sets in when Luke and Spencer are told about a potential terrorist attack coming on a case, while their partner happens to be home with their child.

Warnings: Mentions of case, usual cm stuff, all of them are worried asf messes

Category: Fluff/ a bit of angst

Word count: 4.4 k

A/N: hEllo!!!! I’m here for another fic :) It was @imagining-in-the-margins who gave me the original prompt, so I took it in!!! It’s my first Ralvez fic, so I’m really excited! Another one might come around soon!!! I hope everyone enjoys :)

The peace and calm that they had finally managed to find in what seemed like an eternity quickly disappeared as soon as they took conscience of it, with a pleasant surprise known as: a case.

It kind of...ruined the mood of everyone, but after Luke and Spencer saw their partner’s reaction as they woke up at 5am after hearing the phone, they quickly decided to set aside their anger as y/n already had enough of it.

Even if she was indeed quite mad, she tried to calm down, quickly helping them check their stuff within the few minutes they had, and before she could even say something, the door closed, and she just...stood there.

She’s been used to being alone with her daughter more than she can ever count with her hands, but when she finally thought that they’d be home for more than a few days, she couldn’t admit that she wasn’t upset about it.

She could handle it fine in general, but some moments, when it’d become too much, she couldn’t call them, have a proper conversation, because they’d either have no time, or just a few minutes, which wasn’t clearly enough.

Y/N was well aware of that when the relationship become more serious, she knew that it meant that she would be alone most of the time, even if they’d eventually call or send a text to try to ‘be with her’, she knew that she couldn’t do anything no matter how angry it made her, all she could do was hoping they’d both return as fast as possible and in one piece.

She had enough stress to deal with when they were away, so deal with the stress of knowing they’d gotten hurt, and not knowing right away if it was bad or not, she didn’t even want to.

They had given her enough heart attacks, whether they were hurt or not; various stories about it can be remembered.

For example, when they didn’t happen to be hurt, both of their phones were out of battery, and she was there, calling again and again, she even went to JJ and whatever colleague that was with them, and they also told her that they went somewhere and didn’t answer.

Even if she really wanted to, she chose not to lash her anger on her, and...tried not to have a literal panic attack.

Because after knowing them and their jobs along the way, she knew that the ‘not responding to the phone’ situation wasn’t always caused by a battery problem, a busy problem, but possibly them being in a dangerous situation.

She didn’t hear from them at all for half an hour (which, by the way, seemed like an entire hour), and they just called in like ‘Oh, hi, it all went well, we’re coming back soon’.

Oh, how she wanted to yell at them (which...she did) at this moment.

They were just there, calm as ever, as she was close to take the plates from the cabinet and smash them on the floor, so they clearly felt the anger all the way, it lasted a while before she could not yell.

Eventually, they still joke about it, but at least, it acts as a reminder to not let the mistake happen again.

After a brief moment of thinking, she just decided to return to the living room, not really in the mood to sleep anymore, it’s always stressful to see them go on cases.

Especially when she has no idea what it’s even about, they just left in a hurry, and didn’t even have the time to talk a bit to reassure her, she just hopes that she’ll get to have a bit to call them.

She’s probably imagining stuff that won’t happen, and everything is going to be fine, she just can’t stop but worry after what happened with the previous cases.

Both of them were afraid that the car might crash on the way, they were told that it was local, but might have to go to another state, it kind of was...blurry.

They arrived around ten minutes later, thankfully. It would have been more like twenty with morning traffic and all of the joys of 9am rides.

The main reason explaining why they were frightened about having a literal accident with the crash was y/n, they really didn’t like to be away knowing she was on her own.

Sure, she could protect herself, but, with all of the stuff that happened to their colleagues, their families, they couldn’t know in advance, hence, they wouldn’t even know at all if something would happen hundreds of miles away.

That’s what would get them stressed in most cases. That one was close to where they lived, but, at the same time, they couldn’t go there every minute because of the work, and also in case they happen to go to another state, all there is to do are phone calls, and hope she’ll be okay on her own.

Frequent work visits weren’t up either, they preferred her not to attend if a case was on, because of, again, all that happened, and security reasons.

As much as they wanted to just stay a bit more, other people needed their help and they happened to be the ones called to assist.

After rushing through the glass doors and walking in the direction of the conference room, only two members were missing, probably stuck in the traffic or called in in surprise like for them.

It didn’t take much for everyone to gather, in just a few minutes they had begun the briefing, which was quite short considering that not much evidence was there. But even if they happened to be limited, they were enough for them to have something to work on.

Once they had discussed a bit, a few orders were given as the one given a place to go exited the room, leaving the others in the bureau to work on what had been ordered to them as well.

Mainly everyone was less stressed, as they didn’t have to travel or anything, they could go straight to work and directly work which was a tad better than having to rush along with all of the directives that had to be done when boarding and all, which would cost a bit of time comparing to when the case was closer and only needed them to drive from a location to another.

But, the plane wasn’t ruled out yet, they couldn’t really know if they didn’t need to go somewhere else throughout the case, so, they just had to ‘enjoy’ their home-work moment.

Not really ‘enjoy’, as...people had been killed, maybe on the work side for them, so, the ‘enjoy’ thing had to be kept to themselves and certainly couldn’t be said and heard by Hotch.

No one really wanted to upset him, he seemed upset enough when he stepped in the room, so...an inappropriate comment wasn’t up now, or even till the case was done.

Spencer and Luke have been the ones that had to exit the office to attend one of the scenes in order to meet the officers first present on the location, only a few minutes were necessary to be there, traffic wasn’t present in the roads they used for the ride thankfully.

This was always reassuring when they couldn’t allow themselves to take their sweet time, and in this case, even if they were only driving to the scene with only a few officers and evidence laying around, this wasn’t a reason to be slower than for another situation that requested immediate assistance before turning to dire.

More talking than observing stuff was done not long after they had arrived, presented themselves to the officers and made their way to the different evidences discovered.

Not a lot was to be seen, but each of the evidence was constructive enough to be discussed for long as they moved on a bit around the others, and possible history about the case and their possible witnesses, suspects, and everything that Spencer could spit out.

Facts included.

No matter how many times he’d do that, no one would expect it and would either, understand half of it, and kind of hesitate to ask for further explanation as they didn’t want to interrupt him, or just sit there as he’d deliver an essay.

This was funnier from everyone else’s point of view, at least the ones used to it, they liked reading the look on their faces.

Even if it mostly happened in cases and no moment was to be found for fun, it still was something that’d quickly happen to brighten their mind before turning back to the ugly and dark stuff.

It isn’t always strict, they still happen to talk about ironic-ish stuff without making it sound offensive, but some situations are dark enough and certainly don’t need a fun comment to lighten the mood or something.

That’s why it’s better to think of the words about to be said, no one wants really to waste time for a stupid choice of words.

No one even noticed the time going by, they just talked about all that could be said from A to Z, and stood a bit outside as they briefly continued before Luke and Spencer headed back to the alley leading to the entry portal.

“Oh, I...didn’t even hear my phone, wait. Shit, I forgot to turn the silent mode off. Hotch’s going to kill me.” Spencer said, sighing as he walked further to take in the call. “Yeah. Oh, JJ?...I know, it was stupid and...what do you mean?” He asked, as the pitch of his voice was nothing but slightly alarming.

“What’s going on? Put it on speaker.” Luke asked, getting closer to the phone as Spencer displayed it in front of them.

“We just found out that there might be a potential...terrorist attack coming. We have no idea when it’s coming, and how important it is. We just know that it’s gonna happen at like...any moment.” JJ explained.

“Okay, normally, no offense- I would have thought it was a joke, but...it doesn’t really sound like one...anymore.” Luke admitted.

After a slight moment of confusion and panic, the phone call came to an end, as they just looked at each moment, not quite sure how to react, what to say, hence, even do.

“Um...in that situation, does y/n and the baby count as possible problems to count in? Because, even if they’re not involved in the case at all, they might be involved in the matter we just discussed over the phone. And I don’t think that I could...remain calm knowing they’re at risk...you know.” Spencer explained.

“Yeah, they might be.” Luke agreed.

“Why does it have to be so...complicated? I really want to call her right now, but we can’t risk it. We could put them in danger before it even comes, that could worsen it.”

“We can’t let them, y/n doesn’t even know and won’t know until they discuss it and possibly do an announcement minutes after it could have begun. I don’t give a fuck if I get fired, I have to go. I can’t keep going with the case until they’re not somewhere safe.” Luke argued.

“Gosh, I...okay. You go, and make sure they’re okay, you do not let them by themselves until they’re somewhere really safe, even if y/n tries to play it stubbornly. Promise me that, you have to keep them safe, no matter what happens. I’ll find whatever Hotch can believe.”

“I promise, I can guarantee it to you.” Luke said, entering the car by the driver’s seat, not even wasting time to check around, he just turned the car on and began driving as fast as the car allowed him to.

They had to be okay.

Luke didn’t even care about counting the minutes,or whatever distance was between the scene to their place, because the potential twenty minutes ride had just turned to a thirteen-ish one, he doesn’t even think that he ever drove that faster than today.

Either him or the car would have ended with scratches if he didn’t take the time to think about being careful, it kind of was better to at least arrive in one piece to not stress her more than she would as no one could tell what was on.

Hell, they weren’t even supposed to be there until they could be told to in the first place.

They might end up with some problems, such as, a big talk, or in the worst case, a suspension, but, to be honest, none of them really had a fuck to give about it, not until they knew her and their child was okay.

Still trying to be careful, he parked the car in whatever space was free and seemed correct, and pushed the door of the building, going for the stairs as the elevator would be way too slow for his liking.

All of a sudden, the choice of settling at the 2nd floor wasn’t such a bad idea, in just a minute he stood in front of it, fidgeting with his keychain to find whatever key fit to the door.

That’s when he regretted putting so much stuff on it, he eventually found it, but as quick as he wanted to, nothing was going fast enough.

A rush of panic set itself in the whole place when he didn’t see them around, but both of them surprised the others when they faced each other.

“Gosh, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here? You barely left...five hours ago. Did the case miraculously end or what? Where’s Spencer?” Y/N catches her breath, holding her grip on the little girl.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t tell you, we have to go like...right now. Spencer will come later”

“What the hell is going on? You’re freaking me out. Is someone trying to kill me or what?”

“I still can’t tell you.”

“Once all of this is done, you both owe me an explanation. It better be a good enough one.”

“I don’t have one yet, but I can guarantee you that I’m not pulling a prank on you, it’s serious enough that I had to rush here.”

“It better be. My heart is about to get the hell out of my chest.”

“Try to not have a heart attack, I promised Spencer to keep you safe, and even if he didn’t tell it...alive as well.”

“Easy to say, I have no idea what’s going on, and how dangerous it might be, as no one is capable of telling me how big I need to worry in order to possibly try to calm down if it’s not too bad.”

“It’s bad enough that none of us could wait until the end of the case, that’s all you need to know.”

“Okay, so I do need to worry, a lot. Right?”

“...you might, but not too much, don’t want you to have an attack, please.”

“I’ll try.” Y/N admitted, as the same scenario that happened this morning repeated itself; they both hurried to get what was needed in a big enough bag, and after everything else was checked, he made his way back to the car with them.

After exchanging brief words, Luke started the car again, speeding up to the location, while trying not to cause an accident. He really had to be more careful this time, as he wasn’t alone at all.

The two most important persons to his eyes were with him, and not one single scratch was to be on them.

Not even a two millimeters one, nothing.

Even if Spencer wouldn’t have made him promise to keep them safe (which would have happened to matter what anyway), he didn’t need to, he was ready to protect them, even if from a bee flying in the room.

This example might be ridiculous, but he doesn’t need someone to tell him, he still does it when there’s absolutely no danger, even if there might be one in this case.

He just hopes Spencer’s safe as well.

What he didn’t give a single fuck about this morning had been bugging him off more than anyhting during the ride that seemed like an endless one rather than a quick ten minutes one.

Traffic decided to mess up with him, and it wasn’t like he could just go and tell to the car blocking his way ‘Hurry up, a potential terrorist attack is coming’, because he wasn’t even supposed to be out in the street, he should be with his team and whatever people they called back in also whatever place they were at.

Normally, he should not be here, in a car with his partner and kid.

But he couldn’t leave them by themselves, waiting for a stupid announcement that would probably come too late along with it getting complicated for Luke and Spencer to reach out to both of them.

He didn’t care at all about getting fired.

If y/n, his kid, and Spencer were safe, he didn’t care about the damn consequences, whatever Hotch had to say.

None of them could stand there while knowing they weren’t safe and sound.

They’d both have to come up with something to make up all of the panic that they caused, but the only thing she needs to know is that this action was necessary for their security.

...which wasn’t something she really wanted to hear, she was...really panicked.

Her face didn’t actually show it, as she didn’t want to worry her daughter and have to comfort two people, but when she doesn’t know what’s going on, it’s impossible for her to stay calm.

She doesn’t care about the whole, ‘don’t panic, take deep breaths, it’ll relax you.’, because the only thing you’ll get back after saying would be anything but a ‘Oh, thanks, I feel way better.”

They already did that with her, and...it didn’t go as well as they both planned.

It only got her more upset.

“Don’t you dare say the whole ‘deep breaths’ shit, I am not doing that. You know it better than me.” Y/N spat.

“...I’m aware of it, don’t worry.”

“Can you at least inform me about Spencer? Since you can’t even tell me why you jumped in the apartment and why you brought me here, at least knowing if he’s okay would be...nice?”

“I can’t tell you either, because I don’t even know, I haven’t heard from him since I drove from the scene to our place.” Luke admitted.

“This is...great.” Y/N softly rocked the child in her arms, stroking her hair as she made a few noises. “It’s okay, shh.”

“I can take her if you want.”

“It’s okay, thanks.” She gently answered, slightly raising her brow as the sound of a notification made itself heard easily.

Luke quickly took the phone out of his pocket, turning it back on as he walked a bit further, still keeping his face visible to hers.

That was a mistake to do that.

His eyes revealed that the message was nothing but reassuring.

“This doesn’t sound good, tell me what’s going on. Luke.”

“Nothing, it was just….uh, a stupid twitter notification.”

“Who the hell reacts to a fucking twitter post that way? Tell me what’s going on, or I swear to god that I’m coming to take that phone from your hands right now.”

“Y/N, just let me explain-” He said, trying to get her to calm down, but she quickly set down her child on the couch, taking the phone from him before sitting on the couch, setting her on her lap.

[Prentiss]

“Alvez, where the hell are you??” read - 10:02

“There’s been an explosion somewhere.” read - 10:03

“Call me ASAP” read - 10:03

Y/N stared at the phone for a minute, staring back at Luke.

“Um, care to explain? I hope it’s not a joke.”

“...it’s not.”

“Where the hell is Spencer? He should have gone here with you.”

“I know, it’s just...complicated. I wasn’t even supposed to be here myself. Just try to calm down, he’ll call.”

“There’s no way I’m staying calm until I’m not seeing a genius standing right in front of me.”

“I happen to be in the same boat, I have no idea when he’s going to be able to come.”

“You better find out, because I’m not going to be able to hold that attack long.”

“Me neither.”

He couldn’t even find the courage and right time to say that he had to promise Spencer to take care of them if he didn't make it home.

How could he even think of that?

Spencer not coming back? It couldn’t happen.

He had to walk right through that door, safe and sound.

How could he ever think of having to announce to her that she wouldn’t see him again?

He couldn’t.

He had to be fine.

Spencer had to…

The loud ringing interrupted his panicked thoughts, sending a sudden rush of fear as he took the phone back.

Was it going to be Emily calling to say Spencer was hurt?

Was it going to be Spencer calling to say everything is okay?

Please don’t let it be the first option, please let it be Spencer, it has to be him.

[INCOMING CALL - SPENCE]

If God even exists, he swore that he’d thank him a million times for that.

“Luke, I- I’m sorry I couldn’t call earlier, it was just...a mess. Is everyone alright? Please don’t tell me someone got hurt on the way.”

“Is that Spencer?” She asked, receiving a quick nod from Luke before he had resumed the conversation.

Turns out none of them will be having a heart attack today.

After Spencer arrived, (as expected), y/n both had them sit down on the bed, while she was (nicely) yelling at them for...quite a while as long as they can recall.

“What the hell were you both thinking? Risking literal national security? What is that...madness?”

“We’re sorry, really. We didn’t mean to...cause that much trouble.” Luke exclaimed.

“That much trouble? You could have gotten fired.”

“We know that, we just...loved you and just wanted you to be safe even if...we could have gotten fired.” Spencer said.

“I love you too, but if you ever do it again, I swear to god, your superior and the whole FBI, that I will kill you myself, okay?”

“Okay...we’re sorry, again.” Spencer apologized, as Luke kind of repeated what he had said.

“Stop being sorry! You guys have no fucking idea at how angry I am at you two.”

“I mean...it’s kind of romantic in a way, you were worried and now you’re-”

“Luke if you don’t shut your mouth right now-”

“I shouldn’t have told that.”

“Yeah, no.” Y/N sighed, putting her hand on her forehead, firmly keeping the other around the baby. “I just...why did you decide to stay back there? Who the hell was...going to do the damn taxes Spencer? We don’t know anything about it!”

“...the taxes? Why are we-” Spencer looks at Luke, confused.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know anything about that.”

“Why are you confused about the taxes? That’s why we married in the first place! You knew how to do the damn taxes!”

“I mean- It’s kind of easy...to me.” He admitted.

“Well it’s not to us!” She stage-whispers. “How could you think that it was smart to do that?”

“I didn’t think about the taxes first.”

“You should have!” She exclaimed, gently tapping on her baby’s back. “How the hell do you think we could have done them? I truly wonder if you really have a 187 IQ sometimes, because right now, it was more of a 60.”

“...60’s a bit low, maybe 90.” Spencer quietly said.

“No, trust me, it wasn’t close to that, I’m being…” Y/N stopped for a bit, holding back tears. “...nice with 60.” She continued, as she resumed her motions on her daughter.

“Okay; I did...not really think about it.” He agreed, suddenly getting interrupted by the baby, who had just let out a pretty...loud burp that kind of, gave the envy to laugh at the three of them; at the moment.

“I’ll punch you right in the face if one of your laughs. I am...certainly not in the mood.” She warned.

“We won’t.” They both answered.

“Great. Now I have to change!” She yells, exhausted. “This is the worst day ever. I really like this top too.” She says, getting a bit tearful as the baby moves a bit, getting comfortable in her arms.

“Here, I’m gonna take her for a bit.” Spencer gently takes her from y/n’s arms, as she sniffles. “There should be one hoodie in my bag, can you get it Luke? I left it on the couch.”

“Sure.” Luke answers, as he briefly kisses his cheek, doing the same gesture to y/n, as he wipes her tears from her face before leaving the room.

“I’m sorry, I just...It’s been a tiring day. I just want to get home Spencer.” Y/N explains.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, we’re going back.” He reassured

“Are we going back?” She asked.

“Sure, sure. We are. We’re gonna get you changed, and then we’ll head back.”

“But, what about your work?”

“It’s okay. I...briefly got a talk. But, we’ll see later. Let’s get back home first.” Spencer explained, as he left the room along with them.

After a few words, Luke had helped her get changed, quickly checked on the baby, and once they had gathered the stuff left there, they all headed back to the car that had stayed in front of the building, starting it a moment after.

“I’m sorry about what I said. I...I didn’t mean it.” Y/N apologized.

“It’s okay, we understand. You don’t have to-” Luke answered as she cut her off.

“I know, it’s just that...I was really angry because...I was kind of, trying to process the fact that I could have...easily lost you both today. And, I wouldn’t have known what to do if Hotch had called to announce me that.”

“It’s okay, we’re here now. We know we scared the hell out of you, took a lot of risks, but, we’re all fine.” Spencer interrupted.

“I know, I’m really glad. I love you guys.”

“We love you too.”

If you liked this piece, let me know here!

#cm #cbs cm #cm fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #cm spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #luke alvez fic #luke alvez #cm luke alvez #ralvez fic #ralvez x femreader fic #cm fluff #cm angst

78 notes · View notes

mcu-fan-fics-blog · 4 years ago

Text

The Artist and Her Deadly Muse

One Shot Mini Series: Natasha Romanoff x Fisk Reader.

Word Count: 3000 approx

A/n: I have WIP for Wanda and reader its taking more time than I thought, but for now this. I kind of got little carried away with this I hope you guys like it. There will be a second part. See you soon!

Part 2

New York, your home… Your safe haven. You're sitting on the subway when you see her. You’ve always liked New York for this very reason there are people everywhere. Your hands are fidgeting, anxious to begin their work. There is just something about her the way she handles herself, how her head is steady on her shoulders, no apparent worry crossing her mind. Your hand begins to move on the paper making her rough outline. Your eyes shift between her and your book for a couple of stops.

Stepping out of the subway and taking that first breath of fresh air… It was just like the first time. There was something about walking through masses of people every day, knowing that you will pass them again and again, and they won't even notice. However, you do notice and you pride yourself in that. Three years living in this marvelous city and it has not ceased to amaze you. You have New York down to a “T”. That's not to say that it was all good, you were detail oriented almost to a pathological degree. Which is why you noticed her and her marvelous red hair. Also the small fact that she was definitely following you.

You weave through crowds, take unexpected turns, yet still you see her keeping her distance. It was almost funny how she's not noticed that you were leading her on a wild goose chase. You duck into your favorite sandwich shop, and take a seat. You can't help, but feel a little disappointed at the fact that she didn't bother to follow you in. You take your time, catching your breath. When you feel safe you decide to walk out the back door. Suddenly you’re being pinned against a wall, by a very familiar redhead.

“I usually don't do this before the third date.” You quip a smirk on your face. “Although looking at you now, I might make an exception.” She doesn't seem to like your compliments as she snatched your satchel. “Who do you work for?” she asked impatiently, pressing you harder against the wall. “I’d have to ask you the same question, because I swear if my father sent you…” The confusion written on her face makes you stop your rant. “And you don’t work for my… father” You emphasize the last part. Regretting having opened your mouth.

You clear your throat and shift your view to her hold on your arms raising your brow. She lets go a little embarrassed. “So… What's up with the staring?” She asks confused. “Well, It's simple really. You stick out like a sore thumb.” You say chuckling at the slightly offended look she flashes you with. You take your satchel back and look through it to make sure everything is good. “Care to explain?” she asked with an amused look in her eyes. You narrow your eyes and she continues. “Your sore thumb statement… What's your evidence.” You shift off the wall, and clean yourself off. “Well, to your credit most people don't pay attention… but I’m not most people.”

You take your sketchbook out of your satchel and flip to her page showing it to her. “I’ve never seen you around… If I had I’d remember.” You say walking away, and her smile makes your stomach flip. Natasha made her way back to the compound where the team was waiting for her. “What took you so long?” Asked Tony as soon as he saw her walk through the elevator doors. “I took the Subway” Is all she says too preoccupied to notice Tony grimace and the sheer look of disgust in his face. She hears him mutter something about disinfecting everything she touches… She's not completely listening, still thinking about you.

“Now where have you gone off to Romanoff.” Tony asks teasingly as he waves his hand in her face, which she promptly swats away. “I met an interesting character on the Subway.” She states, still faraway. Tony hums. “I’m sure you did, you’ll always find some interesting characters on the subways.” She shakes her head and agrees. It had been mere hours after meeting you and she could tell she was hooked. The next day she went to the same subway in hopes of finding you but no such luck. She didn't give up though she showed up every day for weeks... She was on the verge of giving up when she saw you. Getting off an armored black car your head bowed as you made your way to an apartment building nearby. For someone you had clocked her… you were incredibly off your game. You didn't even turn when she walked into the building after you.

“Let me guess you’re about to ask me to paint you like one of my French girls.” You say not bothering to look back a smirk on your face as you turn to face that redhead. You chuckle at her baffled face as you turn around. “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?” She asks, it’s her turn to bask in your reaction. Your laugh fills the room making her laugh with you. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this… I don't even know your name” You point out making her clear her throat just as she's about to say her name you interrupt her. “Let me guess… Patricia?” She shakes her head in denial stifling a laugh. “Natalie Rushman” You nod. “Yeah that was going to be my next guess.” You play it off making her laugh. “My name is Y/n Fisk it's nice to officially meet you Natalie.” You say as you give her your hand to shake. “Would you like to come upstairs.” You ask politely and she hesitates, but ultimately gives in. You make your way up to your apartment which is a complete understatement. “Well you seem awfully humble for this place.” She states.

“And for that matter it’s twice now that you’ve clocked me how?” You sigh putting your keys down on the table. “Yes, well my father always had a way of showing me he cared.” She nods intrigued. “My turn… Why were you looking for me?” You were direct and firm, yet not confrontational. “Well you made an impression Y/n.” You hum pouring her and yourself a glass of wine. You take the first sip and she follows shortly after. “I wanted to see how that sketch turned out Y/n… you know because you used my likeness and all. Want to make sure it doesn't end up in the wrong hands.” She says smirking, but there's a seriousness in her voice. And you nod. “Well you'd be relieved to know that the artist is out of commission till further notice.”

This takes Natalie by surprise, you see it in her eyes she wants to ask why but can't bring herself to actually do it so you tell her. “Another gift from my father… the family company. That is currently on the brink of financial devastation.” You say as you finish off the rest of your wine in one gulp, pouring yourself another glass you offer Natalie one as well. “So no more art and sitting on the subway for hours on end.” You chuckle humorlessly. “When you put it like that…” You try to make light of the situation, but fail. “No more art… No more sitting on the subway for hours on end… No more doing what I love.” Your thoughts racing, almost forgetting you're in a room with an otherwise complete stranger. You clear your throat stopping your train of thought and continue. “This is actually my last night here, I'm moving.” You lift your gaze to meet hers and it’s consuming. The way that her eyes are looking at yours, how she can see right through you. She starts moving closer to you and you let out a deep breath.

When you don't step away or break eye contact she continues making her way towards you. Her hands move to your face, and she slowly closes in interlocking your lips. You deepen the kiss holding on to her hips and moving her closer to you. Your hands brush the hem of her shirt. She bites your bottom lip asking for entrance and you grant it. A fight for dominance ensues, you almost give in but she beat you to it letting you take control. Your night goes by in her arms exploring her skin, etching every detail in your mind, remembering every spot that makes her knees go weak. When you wake up your bed is empty, and you want to be disappointed but you can't. You can't drag someone into the shit show that is your family. So true to your word you were gone by lunchtime.

It had been months and it just kept getting worse. You found out why the financial situation had become so dire. Your father all but drained the company of all its funds… You always knew that your father was a questionable man but this was low even for him. Disparaging your mothers name your name. You learned not to be offended though he trusted you enough to get out of this mess. Your mother brought out the best in him, but in the end the worst ended up prevailing. You worked, and worked threw yourself into the obligation that was tossed your way. “Miss Fisk you have Forbes on the line and Pepper Potts on another.” You nod. It had been a year and a half and you thrived. You haven't heard from your father in all that time. You had Manhattan wrapped around your finger, and everyone knew it, like your father you were ruthless to those you betrayed you, Once someone was burned by you no one dared talk about them, much less in your precedence.

You look and wonder where that bright eyed hopeful person you were went. Then you remember all the people you put your trust in and all the people that tried to kick you when you were down. Forbes was something that represented the end of you, whatever was left of that person you were not too long ago. “Y/n Fisk, to what do I owe the pleasure Ms. Potts?” You were surprised when she called. You thought Stark Industries would want to stay away from a name like yours. “No, need for the formalities Y/n. I’m exploring a business venture that might help us both out.” She goes on to explain her plan and you say you’d think about it, in turn she invites you to a Stark Function this weekend… “Well Pepper I look forward to meeting you and discussing this business venture further.” You put the phone down into the receiver and can't help the small smile that grows on your face. As much as you hated the obligation you couldn't deny the pride that you felt, or how you felt thinking of how proud your mother would be… It almost makes it all worth it.

It's another one of Tony's parties that she is forced to go to, Natasha Is at the bar serving drinks when she sees you. Or someone who held an uncanny resemblance, something was different, your posture no longer relaxed, now effortlessly poised and business like. The sparkle in your eyes was the same, but everything else was fundamentally different. She witnessed Pepper walk up to you, and how your face instantly lightened. Pepper had shared a couple of words with you and took you to speak with Tony. Natasha's eyes widen slightly as she notices Pepper making her way straight to her. “How’d I do?” She asks Natasha with a smile growing on her face. “What do you mean?” She asks confused. “Well, the new mission haven't you been briefed?” She shakes her head. “No, I just got back from one abroad. What is this mission about?” She nodded understandingly. “That's Y/n Fisk Daughter of Wilson Grant Fisk… Kingpin.”

Natasha's eyes widened, she can't believe she didn't put it together sooner. “So she’s following in her Father's footsteps?” Natasha asks carefully. Pepper continues. “Well, we’ve been keeping tabs since a year and a half ago, after Fisk Industries suddenly went into the red.” Natasha quirks her head. “Wilson syphoned all the money and took off. Y/n is ruthless when it comes to business, it's a miracle she saved the company.” Pepper stops and looks at Natasha's still confused face. “What exactly is she doing here though.” Pepper takes a moment before she answers. “We’re recruiting her… using her to get to her Father.” Natasha can't help, but shake her head. “How do you know she’s willing to work against her father… They are family at the end of the day. Blood is thicker than water.” She says as she sees You and Tony walk off into a more secluded part of the compound.

After an hour maybe more she spots you again. This time the light is completely gone in your eyes. It was truly an off putting sight, no apparent emotion ran through your expressions. Your movements were cold, and calculated an opportune smile on your face when someone walked up to you. The desire to get out of there was apparent. She took her eyes off you all of two minutes, and by then you'd made it to the elevator door standing next to a rather old man, whose talking business. She watches you as you wave the older man away with a smile plastered on your face, handing him your card, and just like that you’re gone.

The drive back to Manhattan was a quiet one, full of reflection and contemplation. By the time you make it back to your Penthouse you’re ready to just go to bed. As soon as you walked in you knew something was off. “You need to stay away from Stark Industries Y/n '' It didn't even phase you, your back still turned on him you made yourself a drink and drank it. Finally turning you meet your fathers gaze. “Father, I would say it's good to see you, but that would be a lie. You know how mom felt about lying.” You were testing him and he knew it. “What do you want?” You reiterate and make your annoyance known. “You need to stay away from Stark Industries Y/n, It's for your own good.” You sigh rubbing your temples. “Why would I back down from the business deal of my life? What do you know?” He’s quiet, his eyes boring holes into yours, testing your resilience. “You left me with the mess that was My mothers company in shambles… you don't get a voice in what I do with the company.”

“You’re not going to like what's going to happen if you don't back down Y/n. The board…” You laugh at his attempt at a threat. “Well, haven't you heard… Those usurpers paid for their wrongs. They tried to take your precious company from me.” You chuckle at his obliviousness. “I have the power here… So I suggest you start talking.”

(4 Hours Ago)

“Y/n, I see no need to continue this charade. I Don't think you’re a bad person.” This is where Tony starts off which sets the tone foe the rest of the conversation. “Well, I’ve been around long enough to know when someone wants something from me. So what does Tony Stark need from me?” You say as your eyes close in on him. “It’s not really what I need. It's more of a ‘are you willing to’ corporate.” He then proceeds to show you this presentation very well made if you might add. Of things you already knew about your father, but your question was, How did he know? “Right… So you want me as bait?” You say finally leaving with him. “Well, in a way yes. You won't be in immediate danger, your father won't hurt you.” You chuckle. “You underestimate him.” You say. “He left me to clean up after his mess. Hasn’t checked in once, since then. Why would he now?”

“Lets just say word has spread about our little business venture.” He states. “So this... you are informing me that I’m bait.” He nods. “Great glad you caught on… see we couldn't take the risk…” you finish his statement. “Of me saying no.” You nod. “What do you need me to do exactly.” Tony then goes on a tangent on what you will need to do takes too long for you liking but you sit through it anyways. “So you want me to push his buttons and get him to talk.” He agrees giving more specifics and more details. “Right, well call me when you need me” You say as you stand up and walk away.

(Current Time)

“And you did all of this, Why?” You don't even give him the chance to explain himself. “I was never under any pretense that you were a good man, but this… this is vile.” You could tell your words hurt him. The same words your mother had once uttered before she passed. “Y/n I-i tried to keep you away from all of this.” He tries to defend himself. “Of course by throwing me right in the middle of all of it.” Push buttons you did. “I was once proud to be a Fisk, a name that commanded respect, now I am disgusted and ashamed of this name.” At this point he just kept blaring on about how he tried to fix things, how he just dug himself deeper. Final jab, at this point it wasn't necessary this one was for you. “I hate you for making me hate mom… every time you would promise her an out of this… she believed you, and I hate her for that.” you take a breath and look him dead in the eye. “Because you never deserved her love.”

Before you could even process the hurt on his face, agents stayed bursting through every entrance. Window, doors, balcony, any entrance you could possibly think about blocked and barricaded. You step back from your father, but he’s too quick. He takes our arm and drags you in front of him, using you as a human shield.

#natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #oneshot #marvel #marvel mcu #Avengers #The Avengers #agents of shield #natalie rushman #kingpin #wilson fisk #vanesa fisk

40 notes · View notes

moonchildsaurora · 4 years ago

Text

Running in Circles

✤ guard captain!Mingi x thief!reader ✤ genre: Guard AU // smidge of fluff, (semi)enemies-to-friends. (feat. Yunho) ✤ t/w: sfw, none - except very brief mentions of some fighting, rated PG ✤ count: 3k ✤ [ part 3 ] of Lacuna miniseries

a/n - huge apologies for keeping Captain Song in for a so long but alas, he’s finally freeeeee. I really need to pick up the pace with continuing on with this mini series 😅 this idea sorta played out better in my head than out in words - I’m not 100% happy with this, it’s defs not my best but I shall practise writing more Mingi fics in the future! This is also probably the tamest of the lot in terms of cry-level. Just preparing you guys with an easy read before the shitstorm that awaits in the next member on the list one shot hahahahahahaha. @hereisleo & @barsformars hope you both enjoy this for ya man 😉 I couldn’t bring myself to hurt this giant teddybear too much in writing. Also everyone, let’s welcome back a familiar face within this one shot :P

In all of his years of being a royal palace guard of Aethevintis, nothing would cause his body to seize up with tension instantly and hasten the greys that threaten to come through his still youthful auburn tresses than when he was requested at the interrogation chamber.

Heavy steps echoed off the dark granite stone floors, the sharp clinking from an array of medals that hung proudly to signify his prestige were in sync with his tense pace. Song Mingi had no problem exercising command and authority when it was needed, in fact, he prided himself in doing so.

He was good at his job, and he knew that.

Otherwise the title of Captain wouldn’t had been bestowed upon him that four winters ago. The real struggle was when his confidence in being assertive was mistaken for the ability to intimidate, broad body physique to further fuel that common misconception. And so Mingi often found himself sat in that bleak chamber with some poor unfortunate soul, who had been frightened into admitting nothing more than petty crimes.

He’d argue such tactics were unnecessary. Running his hand frustratingly through his hair for the umpteenth time, Mingi mentally braced himself for whatever...or rather whoever awaited for his arrival.

Rounding the corner, his brows arched up with surprise upon seeing the King standing in front of the chamber doors. The troubled look that replaced the King’s usual ebullient features prompted Mingi to straighten his posture immediately; this was sure to be a serious matter. “Good afternoon Sire…”

Yunho turned towards the rich baritone voice of the Guard Captain and rigid shoulders relaxed ever so slightly at the sight of one of his most trusted.

“Captain Song,” Yunho nodded in acknowledgement, “Although I’m not sure if it’s entirely good at all.”

Mingi’s forehead creased but remained silent to allow the King to further elaborate about his plight.

“The Queen’s aquamarine diamond parure has been stolen, and I suspect a selection of other jewels too. Those I care not for as much as the diamond parure…it’s got high sentimental value as it was passed down within the family from my great-great-grandmother.”

“That certainly isn’t good at all. Has the perpetrator been caught yet, Sire?”

“As luck would have it, yes actually. And I’ve been told that you would be the perfect person to know how to handle this….situation,” at saying this Yunho fully turned to face Mingi. The falchion in his belt’s scabbard felt heavy and a million and one thoughts were running through his mind at once.

“Mingi…”

Mingi could see the sincerity in Yunho’s eyes and the hesitation in spilling out the words that needed to be said.

“I hope you know that in any other circumstances, I would not be requesting you to deal with such matters that you have immense dislike for. I apologise for putting you in such a position. This…certain individual has crossed paths with you before and I’m hoping with that familiarity you may be able to coax them to reveal where the diamond parrure is. How you do so, I’ll leave that up to your discretion.”

Oh.

Well that wasn’t what Mingi was expecting to hear. A certain individual he’s familiar with?

He straightened his back and gave a determined nod of his head, “I shall do my best Sire. That room may be the bane of my existence but this matter is clearly of importance to you, let us hope the thief can be convinced to comply.”

“You have my utmost gratitude Mingi,” Yunho said, reaching his hand up to give Mingi’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before making his way out of the grim dungeon hallway.

Mingi waited till the King was out of sight before turning to face the chamber. Taking a deep breath, he steeled his heart and pushed open the doors with slight force.

“Well, well if it isn’t my favourite Captain of the guards. Come to keep me company for the evening?”

If he wasn’t already sweating before, he sure was now. That oh-so coquettish voice he’s grown to recognise almost immediately, fell on his ears.

You sent a cheshire grin to the tall figure, legs propped up on the worn-out wooden table and hands idly fiddling with the heavy brass shackles around your wrists. This certainly wasn’t the first time your paths had crossed but it was the first for you both to meet in a more dire setting.

Mingi feared for the implications of your capture.

Not just a mere thief of the streets but being the leader of Dusk Talons, the Royal Crown surely won’t pass up a chance to make an example of a core individual from the renowned thief guild.

“You ought to close your mouth, otherwise the flies will get in.”

One of the guards closer to you brought his fist down on the table, a mere tactic meant to frighten you. However, all it got out of you was the bored glance you sent to the guard who started berating you for talking back to Captain Song.

Mingi let out a sigh, “That’s enough. I can take it from here, you all are dismissed.” The command was given to the other guards in the room as he settled into the chair across from you. They left without a fuss and silence encompassed the room, though not for long.

“Would you please be a dear and help with this?” you asked, chains jangling as you held out your cuffed wrists towards Mingi.

“It would seem that’s not needed at all,” a ghost of a smile gracing his lips, “your handy work got the job done for you.”

“You’re no fun.”

Not admitting out loud, you were slightly impressed that the guard captain didn’t let your lock-picking slip by him. The shackles dropped on to the table and you made a show of stretching your arms out, body arching lithely off the chair. Your loose tunic rode up just shy of showing skin, causing Mingi to avert his eyes out of respect.

That widened your grin.

Mingi let out an awkward cough, any pre-planned script he had for questioning was abandoned. You weren’t entirely a stranger to him nor were you an acquaintance – if the laws even allowed for that. But Mingi didn’t feel right about making you go through the same interrogation protocol as previous criminals had to. You weren’t like them.

“I can’t tell if you thrive off the riskiest raids or that you don’t fear anything nor anyone. Going after Her Majesty’s diamond parure? Of all things!”

An airy chuckle left you, “If I didn’t know better…you sound awfully worried for me, Captain.”

“Shouldn’t you be at least more careful? What would become of your family if something were to really happen to you?”

The grin on your face disappeared immediately.

Mingi continued when he didn’t hear a response, “I’ve seen you…giving food and gold back to those in the Lower Wrean. I know some of the funds for the city’s orphanages are provided by your guild. And that one time…the only reason why you led the attack on our eastern outpost was to rescue a few of your own and relocate some of the nomad camps away from potential crossfire. You don’t abandon family, right?”

These were the things that convinced Mingi, you weren’t really all bad. Questionable choices? Sure. Morals? A little grey. Although underneath the layers, your intentions have always stemmed from a compassionate heart.

“What’s to the rich if they lose a few here and there? They have far more than enough, so to us, they’re top of the list of contributors.”

Mingi remembered you telling him that when he had first caught you escaping from one of the noble’s house. Your guild only ever stole from the rich and it was a bonus if the corrupted was targeted too. Mingi, who then was still under the command of the previous captain, hesitated to pursue. For his moral compass went spiralling. Being bound to carry out his royal duty or close a blind eye because he empathised with what you stood for.

Empathy.

Nothing more than a weak link, according to his captain. There was little room for that, just as grey had no place among Aethevintis’ black-or-white justice system.

Hence, a thief was still a thief at the end of the day. Even for a good cause, by definition you were on the opposing side.

You continued to observe Mingi in silence, with a neutral expression, as you let his words sink in. Captain Song was much different than his predecessors. An unspoken level of mutual respect had developed between you both somewhere along the way of your encounters. The way he led with his heart rather than blind authority was admirable.

“We do what we must to get by. My family…as you so kindly put it…are capable of adapting to whatever circumstances are thrown their way. Risk is an inevitable norm for us.”

At least, you could appreciate Mingi looking at you without that faux sympathy.

“And I’ve lived doing what I do best…that is to survive. Being careful only gets you so far but being smart, well, you could go just about anywhere with that.”

With a rather loud yawn you broke the tension in the dim room. The grin reappeared back on your face and you slinked backwards on the chair. Mingi was contemplating on whether switching back to the original subject of this…talk…would be a good idea or not. He needed a starting basis, a hint of sorts from you in order to give direction where he’d be searching for the missing parure.

Betting on the fact that you don’t wholly despise him, Mingi tried his luck. “Now I do have a job to complete, and I’m sure we both would rather spend our time elsewhere other than down here…”

“Aww, I thought we were having a good time getting to know each other better. Don’t get to do that as much on the streets now, do we?”

“What have you done with Her Majesty’s parure?” asked Mingi, keeping his tone levelled.

“You sure are set on that huh? What’s in it for you if you successfully retrieve the jewels?”

Tilting your head, eyes sparking a challenge. Only to be met with determination glinting off Mingi’s own pair of dark chocolate brown orbs.

“Nothing more than the satisfaction of returning a precious family heirloom back to my King. It’s of great importance and sentiment to him.”

You wished you could find fault in his resolution. Yet again, Mingi was nothing but honest in answering you.

Surely, you could play a little nicer this time, right?

“Hmm, I’ll think about it. I’m feeling rather parched as well…any chance I could get some fresh water?”

Sensing you weren’t going to give in anytime soon, Mingi drew in a deep breath and exhaled. Standing up he offered, “And I’m guessing you haven’t had anything to eat?”

“You’re offering?”

“This is an interrogation chamber, not a torture one.”

Mingi left to gather the necessities. Head filled with too many conflicting thoughts, that he missed the growing grin on your lips and the space where the dungeon keys previously sat on his belt.

“THE PRISONER HAS ESCAPED!”

“FIRE IN THE COURTYARD!”

It was havoc.

The thunderous sound of fireworks broke through the tranquil evening. Catching everyone by surprise and confusion arose as to why bursts of colourful sparks were going off within the palace grounds. When some of the flag banners and trees caught fire from the stray sparks, it caused a flurry of panic.

And to make matters worse – the guards had lost you.

Mingi finished over-seeing the last batch of palace staff into the safe area. “All palace guards are to stay by the doors to the throne room and west wing! No one is to leave or enter until my unit and I have done a final sweep of the grounds, “ he ordered.

Part of the team was put in charge of getting the fires under control. He deduced the fireworks were set off as an intended distraction and, a successful one at that too. Mingi’s priority was now to prevent you from escaping.

He heard the commotion and shouting before, “CAPTAIN! THE SOUTHWEST WALLS!”

You held your own and by the time Mingi had reached your location, the guards who were stationed there were knocked out cold on the ground. A minor cut bled slightly from your left cheek and you looked a little more roughed up than when Mingi had last seen you.

“Here I was thinking this would be a clean goodbye…” you said, securing the rope around your waist that Mingi noticed was tied to the stone merlons. He also saw a couple of dark-coloured pouches with you that weren’t present on your attire during the interrogation.

Three guesses as to what filled those pouches.

You followed his eyes to where they were fixated on, “Ah yes, amongst thieves it’s the number one rule to not hide our spoils on ourselves…lest we get caught.”

A series of sharp whistles was heard. The signal that your guild had completed their tasks and was awaiting to reunite with their leader down below at the meeting point. You blew three consecutive similar whistles back in response.

“Wait!”

You paused with one foot up on the stone edge. Turning back to look, you saw Mingi’s hand hover slightly over his falchion.

“Are you going to try and stop me?”

‘No. But I will ask once more, where is the diamond parure? I know the cold season approaches and you’ll need all the resources you can get. Those gold and other jewels you’ve got there should be sufficient enough. So please….”

Having already made your decision the moment you slammed the doors to the chamber out, simultaneously breaking the noses of the unsuspecting guards, you knew what you had to do. But that didn’t prevent you from adding a little dramatic flair.

After all, you want to stay memorable in Captain Song’s books.

“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?”

Your voice dripping with light sweetness, eyes locked on his as you made your way right up to him. Your hand darted out to grab his falchion and on reflex, Mingi intercepted – large calloused warm hand latching around your wrist.

“But maybe that’s what makes so different from the others…” You flipped his hand so it faced palm up, and placed a familiar cobalt blue pouch on it. “You’re a good man, Captain Song. Thinking with your heart doesn’t make you weak…this world needs more of that, more of people like you.”

You watched his shoulders fall with relief and the look he had in his eyes change into something you couldn’t quite discern. Mingi nestled the pouch carefully towards his body, the delicate clinking confirmed its fragile contents within. And he didn’t feel the need to look inside for confirmation; he trusted you.

“If we were to meet in another lifetime, I hope we’d be on better terms then. Preferably one leaning closer to friends.”

A genuine smile crept up from the corners of your lips upon hearing Mingi’s words.

“That sounds rather nice, actually.”

You could definitely use a friend like Mingi in your second lifetime, should fate ever be so kind to give you another shot.

“CAPTAIN!”

The clamouring of guards and blades being drawn drew closer and you could hear the running of feet up the stairs.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave. And I am so sorry for doing this but…”

And you physically winced when you sent a knee to his gut, causing Mingi to collapse and gasp for air.

“…Captain Song wouldn’t go down without a fight and this makes it look less like you just let a scummy thief off the hook.”

Mingi waved his other gloved hand, “I…understand – you ought to hurry…” he managed to cough out the words.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

With that, Mingi watched you leap over the wall’s edge just as back-up from his unit arrived. Not only did you leave him with the Queen’s jewels and potentially a bruise or two, you also left him with a new sense of comfort.

Two worlds apart. Two unlikely individuals who were both willing to cross the bridge that’s been built to fill the gap, to meet in the middle.

Yeah, this was a change he could get used to.

“Thank you Captain Song!” cheered the orphans, watching with admiration at how effortlessly Mingi climbed the tree to recover their kite that got stuck in the tall branches.

He soon found his legs to be attacked with hugs from several pairs of petite arms.

Mingi returned the affections with gentle head pats and a, “Be careful not to run too fast and watch where you’re going!”

The townspeople greeted him as he patrolled his rounds. Even scoring a ruby red freshly-picked apple from one of the vendors. Today would be a breeze. Golden rays of the sun shone down warmly and the morning air was still crisp. Mingi was already planning to finish his shift early and go see if he could convince Yunho to sneak away from royal duties for a round of archery out by the fields.

“STOP! THIEF!”

Just like that, his trail of thoughts were cut short. Mingi snapped his attention towards the direction where the yelling came from. Jogging over to where the crowd had gathered, he was nearly bowled over by a fleeting figure.

Upon making eye contact for that split second, he could recognise your mirthful eyes from anywhere.

Your eyes crinkled with delight and being bold as to send a wink his way. But your feet never stopped sprinting and within seconds, Mingi had lost you among the sea of townspeople who still went about their business on the street.

“THEY WENT THAT WAY!”

Mingi looked back to see some of his unit tailing after a few hooded figures who disappeared into the maze of alleyways. Your guild sure knew the layout of the town inside out.

A sigh escaped him. So much for finishing up early for the day.

But if it was a chase you wanted, then it would be a chase you’ll get. Being the respectful gentleman that he was, he’d let you have a head start of course.

Maybe one day, when he’s old and cranky, worn out to his bones – he’d stop running in circles after you.

Luckily for you both, today wasn’t that day.

55 notes · View notes

haravath0t · 4 years ago

Text

A Christmas Heist - Epilogue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff, word count, fluffy Bucky!

Hi guys! Here it is! The official last part of A Christmas Heist! I wanted to include an Epilogue to offer a nice little ending to this mini series! I’m a bit hesitant to let go of Bucky in his elf costume, but alas, he has been in the costume for too long for his liking! I cannot thank @hailhydra920 enough for being able to request such a lovely idea! Just gonna do a peep on the aftermath of the heist! As always, enjoy reading!

Main Masterlist

A Christmas Heist Masterlist

One downside of working alongside Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes is the fact that they recover much quicker than you do after missions. Although Steve was pretty beaten up when you all showed up in the med bay of the Avengers Compound, he recovered quick enough so that he didn’t need dire medical assistance. It was not the case for you sadly, being thrown and fought by Rumlow and his goons did not make you come out of this mission unscathed.

“Yeah… she had a few broken ribs, she also got a deep gash on her side that we stitched up, some bruises… I think the blood loss from her cuts must be why she got unconscious on the way here... and I am sure when she wakes up, she’ll have a horrible headache. She’s gonna have to be on bed rest for a good 5 weeks or so. I am going to send the medication for these in a few,” Bruce remarks, looking up at the two super soldiers, still in their Apple Store clothes and an elf costume. “Well, she’s had worse… but I bet it’s painful. Thanks for taking care of her, Banner.” Steve responds, nodding in understanding as Bruce makes his leave. Steve looks over at Bucky, whose eyes had never left your unconscious form on the hospital bed.

“You seriously care for her, don’t you, jerk?”

“Huh?” Bucky asks, quickly turning his head to Steve as he hears Steve let out a chuckle. “You care for her,” Steve repeats. “Who wouldn’t, Steve?” Bucky responds, as he goes back to patching up Steve’s cuts on his own seat. “I know, but it’s cute, seeing you get all frantic about her.” He chuckles, shaking his head as he fidgets with the hard drive. “And that’s the last of em, punk. You’re all patched up.” Bucky remarks, smiling a bit at his work before his best friend stands up. “Thanks, Buck. I’m gonna go ahead and return this to Fury, gonna go ahead and start on the report for this mission. Need anything?” Steve asks, turning back to Bucky. “Y/N’s blanket and mine please. That big Disney one, her speaker thingy, and water please.” Is Bucky’s simple request. Steve only nods before he strides away from the med bay. Bucky turned to your resting form, smiling a bit as he looked for your nurse, asking her to teach him how to find songs on his phone. The nurse was more than willing to help him out, laughing when the metal-armed super soldier grins when he sees the title of his familiar songs, thanking her as she walks away.

It wasn’t long till Steve came back with what he asked for before meeting with Fury. Bucky managed to connect his phone with your bluetooth speaker in 7 minutes, a record for him. He had to tell you later. He didn’t dilly dally at all to play some Glenn Miller faintly on the bluetooth speaker, reaching out for your hand to hold it and kiss it gently. “Hey, sweetheart.” He whispers into your hand, smiling a bit before getting your blanket and laying it across your body comfortably. “You did great on your first undercover mission, you know.” He whispers, taking his seat. “Did such a great job.. When you wake up we are going to have the most relaxing holiday, you’ll see,” he whispers with a smile, waiting for your eyes to open.

It did not take long for you to slowly open your eyes, you winced at the bright light that was shining above you, groaning softly at the sight. Bucky perked up when he heard you, smiling wide. “Great, you’re awake.” He whispers softly, making you smile as you felt his lips press themselves gently onto your forehead. “Buck,” you whisper hoarsely, trying your best to ignore the shooting pains that you feel all over your body. You let your eyes blink slowly a few times to get adjusted to the light before turning to your left to see your boyfriend, laughing quietly as you see his elf hat drooping as well as his Buddy costume getting dirtied. Your boyfriend smiles at this, shaking his head. “Oh stop laughing at me.” “It’s just so cute that’s all. It was funny to see you and Rumlow fighting too… if it weren’t for the predicament we were in, I would have laughed my head off.” You whisper softly, thinking about the time where a similar situation had occurred in the Elf movie. Bucky only shakes his head, letting out a chuckle before he calls the nurse that you’re awake. “Hold on, sweetheart, I’m gonna get our change of clothes, okay?”

“Can you stay?”

“Huh?”

You only pout, a blush forming. “I...I was hoping if you could stay… maybe hop on the bed and then we can change when I’m fully ready to be discharged?” you offer, smiling when Bucky agrees, putting down the railing of the bed and gently adjusting the IVs so he can gently embrace you. It was warm. It was comforting. It was wonderful. You lazily kiss his cheek and nuzzle into his neck and chuckle softly. “Shameful.” You whisper. “What’s shameful?” Bucky asks. You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. “I’ve had worse scenarios. I shouldn’t be in here, right now. Should be in our room.” You reply as you shake your head, “It’s embarrassing that I’m in med bay after an undercover mission.”

“It’s your first one, Y/N, it wouldn’t be completely perfect. You handled it perfectly, without the help of a super soldier strength too. You should be proud.” He replies, running his hands through your hair. You couldn’t even gather enough energy to fight him. You didn’t have energy to even doubt his words. You knew that he meant it. You knew he believed in you, and that made all the difference. So, you just simply take it.

“Mmm… how about the current status of the scene? How is the mall?”

“I’ve been told they blocked off the area for the day, the agents and Rumlow are taken into custody, and our things from the apartment we’ll get tomorrow. Fury has the hard drive now, Steve will do the report on it. But, the specialists managed to get a hold of the hard drive’s information, and in short, we are fine.” He responds. “Thank goodness,” You huff in relief, closing your eyes much nicer knowing that the job is done.

“And the diagnosis of my injuries?”

“Few broken ribs, a deep gash on the side, and bruises. You’re gonna have to be on bed rest for 5 weeks.” “Dang, the whole holiday?” You ask in shock, carefully tracing where they had operated on your rib. You feel Bucky nod above you. “Yes, ma’am. But don’t worry, I think I have a few ideas on how to make those the most relaxing 5 weeks you’ve had.” He says with confidence. “You always know how to make it fun, Buck.” You smile.

“It’s cuz it’s always fun with you, sweetheart. I’ll bring you dinner, okay? Then after, we can find the way to kill time.”

To say the least, you were more than happy with the outlook of this, and you never wanted anything more than to spend it with the man in the elf costume.

Permanent Taglist: @world-of-aus @world-of-aus-reads @whew-oh-em-gee @tomholland-96 @lordyitsjordy @letstalkaboutsebbaby @thee-soom-soom @lookiamtrying @vesper852 @hailhydra920 @buckybarnesthehotshot @heyiamthatbitch @rodrikstark (If you would like to be included in a tag list let me know via ask! ❤️☺️)

#mcu #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes scenario #buckybarnesxreader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #a christmas heist #steve rogers fluff #bucky barnes fic #mcu imagine

21 notes · View notes

hazard-queen · 4 years ago

Note

Can you write about a fight between me and the manager,Dire Crowley, and admit that he left school because of his style, and Lilia listens to this quarrel by chance, and tells Malius.🥰

Hello sweetie~♡

Sure thing ^^

Have a good day and take care ~♡

A note before we start : the owner of the request is my best friend and she did it when she was half asleep so she asked me to delete it but i refused! :D

The chapter is actually about when mc had a fight with Crowley and told him that she doesn't want him to return her to her world and she ran away but some students (lilia) overhead and went to tell others!

• A disaster happened again in the college and problems were everywhere, and it's the headmaster's job to fix everything and save the day.....nope....it's your job!

• You blinked three times to the headmaster in front of you, he was asking you to save the situation for the 3rd times before one hundred!

• " But exams are soon and I'm already tired enough, it's almost holiday and i need a break!" You said in a state to Crowley who began saying the same thing as he always do!

• "You know! I'm busy looking for a way to return you to your world! And also your food expenses began to be more than before, but as I'm kind i try to handle this" every time...just every time he says this with this annoying expression and the most fake words of him being kind! You couldn't handle it anymore!

• "You say this every SINGLE time, and you never found a way to return me! You know what? I don't want you to return me to my world nor to spend anything on my food or even to keep me here!"

• "What do you mean?" Said the headmaster who disliked your way of course

• "I'm leaving night raven and i won't come back!" You said getting out of the office but you remember something!

• "Oh right one more thing....YOU'RE NOT KIND AT ALL!" You shouted slamming the door behind you leaving Crowley standing there, a frown formed on his lips, an expression of both shock and sadness formed on his masked face.

• "Did i went too far?" He was thinking to himself as he sat back on his office.

• And let's say that walls have ears that is called lilia! He (accidentally) overhead your conversation with the headmaster and went to tell malleus about this! And of course the rest of the seven dorm leaders heard and went after you!

• You ran out of the college into the nearby woods! Is it safe? Maybe....

• Your feet took you deep into a forest, you were panting of the effort you exerted on running but also you found yourself lost, all you could see was trees around you, you didn't even know how you came there!

• As you started feeling worried some green lights appeared on some trees, you followed the green light till you reached a wide place, you found a river and a much better place to stay in, you're abit hungry from all the running, aren't you?

• You felt something thrown on your head as you went "ouch!" You looked to the ground and it was a red apple(not poisonous don't worry)! It looks so sweet and delicious, you wiped it first in your clothes then you took some bites till you finished it.

• You went to the river and took some water in your hand to drink it, you saw some fishes swimming there, you're still hungry tho, you bent to catch some fishes but they were fast to escape, you tried multiple times but one of those times you lost your palance and fell to the river, lucky you could go back to the ground again as it wasn't deep.

• You sat back there still hungry and all wet and now cold!, you began to collect some small branches from the ground and tried to make some fire, you tried many times but you couldn't make the fire until "snap" blue fires formed on the branches in front of you! You gasped at what just happened but you were cold enough to think so you started taking some warmth from the fire.

• You looked at the river side to see some fishes thrown on the land...but how?, you collected them all, grilled them and ate them on instant!, it began to be late, you felt sleepy but you can't sleep on the woods like that, you looked left and right searching for somewhere to sleep.

• Suddenly some golden sands appeared in front of you then it began to form into a sand rabbit! You laughed happily as it began to jump around you, then it started running off somewhere

• "Wait!" You said to the rabbit as you followed him, you saw a heartshaped flower bed in the middle of the forest, it was decorated with red roses and it looked comfortable, you yawned abit and wiped your eyes before you climb into the bed falling asleep as you were tired from the whole thing.

• You woke up on hearing movements on bushes near you, you took some close steps to look and you found three wolves approaching you, on seeing them you started running away! You ran as fast as your feet could take you but strangely, those wolved weren't chasing after you again you're not sure but did you hear roaring?

• You heard some movements in bushes again, you saw a tall shadow of a man! It was so dark so you didn't know who's it, you screamed and started running again but this time faster than ever and you didn't even see in front of you so congratulations your feet slip and you were falling from a cliff!

• You hanged on the edge for your life, you were crying cause you may fall down at any second

• "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, i want to go back!" You cried for your self, but as you feared the rocks were holding you began to crack and fall, you closed your eyes accepting your fate but a hand reached to hold yours!

• "(Y/n)! Don't worry i got you!" It was headmaster Crowley, it was the first time you feel this happiness to see him.

• He pulled you back and took you to a safe place, you began crying again, you threw yourself into his embrace

• "I was scared, i thought i was going to die!" You said crying as Crowley was batting your head to calm you

• "Don't worry, I'm here for you" he said with a kind smile and that was the first time you ever see him truly kind

• "But we are all here from the start!"

• "Shhhhhhhhhh"

• "You're gonna make them find us this way!"

• "Did you hear something?" You asked Crowley looking for the sound

• "Nope, now there's a carriage waiting for us this way, please go there and wait for me!" Said Crowley with a smile

• "H head master!" You said with a blush

• "What is it?"

• "You really are kind!" You said running away leaving Crowley standing there, his face turned abit red but he smiled to himself....

• "I know you're here!" Said Crowley as he turned around to face the bushes, he put his hand on his waist as he continued :

• " i want to see the seven on you tomorrow morning in my office!"

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland imagines #twst idia #dire crowley #idia shroud #riddle rosehearts #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia

86 notes · View notes

cakejots · 3 years ago

Text

Unstained, Chapter 3

After certain events that happened in the day, Chat Noir revealed to Ladybug that he knows who she is under the mask. Her reactions astounded him. After certain events that happened in the night, Ladybug unveiled to Chat Noir why she can’t do what he asked of her. His reactions astonished her.

Rating: T, Words: 6938. Chapters: 4/4

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4

Read on AO3

Warmth enveloped her entire being as their lips connected. The calmness that followed was something Ladybug craved even more now that she had experienced it. Chat’s lips were soft, warm, and inviting, and Ladybug found herself wanting more of this sensation. Pressing her lips harder against his, she tasted a hint of saltiness on his lips, a stark contrast to the absolute sweetness she felt and savoured before.

Ladybug pulled back as soon as she realised what she was doing. Chat’s eyes were as wide-blown as hers.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know what I was doing! Oh no, you’re going to think I’m weird now, aren’t you? What’s wrong with—”

“My lady.”

She stopped her frantic rambling at once and focused all her attention on him.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Chat smiled gently, his hand found hers and squeezed them tenderly.

Ladybug breathed a sigh of relief. She enjoyed the feeling of their lips pressed together. She wanted more, and so she asked.

“Okay, then can I do something that calms me down?”

“Just say you want to kiss me again,” he smirked.

Mock-offended, she turned away from him, hands crossed. With a mischievous smile, he leaned to where her face was and kissed the corner of her lips. She burst into flames at that gesture.

“Cute.”

“Stop teasing,” she said as she flicked his bell.

He twinkled as the sound of his bell tinkled. “I’ll give you all the kisses you asked for my lady, but I don’t want to confuse you even more. Besides, there are other ways to relieve the stress you’re feeling.”

“Okay, enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”

“What about me?”

“Chat, are you feeling okay?” Concern laced in her voice.

“Yeah, as supurr as always!” He fist-bumped the air.

“Then what’s going on? You almost got akumatised today.”

He stared at her, and she stared back.

“Are you not going to talk about it?” She asked.

“I don’t see you talking about yours!”

“Mine isn’t as dire as yours! You were feeling such negative emotions to the point you got akumatised!” Ladybug held his face to look at her, her thumbs caressed his cheeks in the process. “Adrien, is there something I can do for you right now?”

He closed his eyes and leaned against her left hand, craving more for her touch.

“Chaton… you said you want me to share my burdens with you. It’s not fair that I’m the only receiving party here,” she paused to steady her voice, she needed to be strong for him. “Please. Let me be there for you too.”

Upon hearing her wavering voice, he opened his eyes to look at her. Worried eyes stared back and he slowly pushed her down till her back was against the roof tile. He laid his head on her chest and started purring.

“Please stop making this about me, this really needs to be addressed,” Ladybug cradled his head in her arms and begged softly, thinking how much of a failure she was in comforting her partner.

“I’m sorry—“

“W-what?”

“—and no, I wasn’t feeling the best earlier today. It was about my mother, I suddenly got hit by the fact that I can’t remember much about her anymore.”

She started caressing his scalp. “Was it your father?”

He closed his eyes. “S-surprise?”

Ladybug stopped her ministrations and Chat could feel her heartbeat picked up. He started purring again to calm her down, knowing that she adores it when he purred, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

“I’m really fine now, Buguinette. Could you continue whatever you’ve been doing? It feels really good,” he commented cheekily.

She continued her soothing actions from before, despite the disparity of emotions within her heart and mind. Gabriel Agreste really is a piece of shit. But why? How could he do this to his son, a literal cinnamon roll that the world can’t hold a candle to? What did he do to deserve such a kind soul to be called his? Where was the love, care, and protection that he is supposed to provide for Adrien as an actual parent should? Who does he think he is, abusing Adrien like that? What the—

“My lady?”

Ladybug snapped out of her thoughts and looked at him.

“Not that I mind you pulling my hair, but here’s not the best place to do it,” he grinned.

Ladybug sat up abruptly which resulted in her head hitting his nose in the process. He yelped at the impact and suddenly he was on his back with her on top of him pulling his cheeks.

“You love teasing me, huh?”

He grabbed her wrists to stop the pulling, “of course, your face turns into a pretty shade of pink and it really suits you. Besides, it’s fun seeing you all flustered like that, I kinda missed the old Marinette.” Something clicked in his mind, “it all makes sense now.”

“What does?”

“You were all jittery around me because you love me.”

Ladybug just realised that she had indeed confessed to him, and her face is now covered in brilliant red. “I-I wasn’t all jittery.”

“Yes, you were,” he said with a smug.

“Argh,” Ladybug plopped back down to Chat’s chest, effectively hiding her face from his view. “I can’t win this.”

He laughed and placed his hands on her back. “But I do hope that I get to tease you as someone more significant than a friend.”

“I hope so too,” she muttered, but Chat could hear it anyway.

They settled into a comfortable silence before her voice vibrated in his chest.

“Adrien?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you’ve been dealing with your troubles all on your own, and it’ll probably stay like that for a while. But can I ask you to let me—us know whenever you’re not feeling your best? You don’t even have to tell us what it is. Just let us know that you’re feeling down. You can tell Nino about it without letting me know too if you’re more comfortable that way. Just, anything to keep the negative emotions at bay,” her arm had reached up to grasp his shoulder, seemingly pleading with him.

“How will telling you guys disperse my negative emotions?”

She reached up even further and scratched behind his cat ears, her face now a few centimetres from his.

He purred, “Oh yes, it does make me feel better, doesn’t it? You should try it too!”

“What—”

Chat had already pulled her hair ties and had begun to massage her scalp.

Ladybug shivered and smiled before releasing a soft gasp. She slapped her hands on her mouth, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” He looked at her with a glint in his eyes.

She sat up and whimpered as his last touches slipped from her scalp down her neck. Ladybug glared at Chat while he sat up and smiled innocently.

“Give me back my hair ties.”

“No way, let these hair ties be a symbol of a promise between us that we will let go of our burdens and share them. Besides, you look beautiful like this too,” he said easily.

Ladybug had lost count of the number of times her cheeks flushed, but she tried her best to give him a flat look.

“What?”

“You didn’t let go of anything.”

Chat proceeded to tie his fringe with one of her hair ties and released it once he heard Ladybug giggled at how silly he looked. “There, now we both let go of something.”

“Fair enough,” she smiled, placed her right hand on her heart and raised her left hand. “Ladybug’s word.”

“Cat’s word,” he mimicked her actions and recalled the time where he was tempted to open the door to find out who the love of his life was. What a turn of events.

“Okay, now that we are on the same page, how do we go from here?” She put on a serious face. “Alya and Nino, or anyone else for that matter, are going to get suspicious if we are suddenly as close as our superhero selves.”

“Easy, we’d just stick together until they ask about it, and we just tell the truth,” he rolled his eyes.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow and waited for Chat to explain.

“We’d tell the truth up till the point where that blasted butterfly appeared. It’d be all rainbows and sunshine from there.” He started listing with his fingers. “You found me crying in a park, comforted me, I was so thankful that someone reached out, and I chose to stick to you from then on. Who knows, Alya and Nino might even leave us alone to ‘develop our relationship'. A win-win situation, my lady.”

“So, we are basically going to stick together from the start? Wouldn’t that raise suspicions?” She frowned.

“Yep, and nope.” He grinned from ear to ear.

“Minou, don’t you think they are going to ask about the appearance of Akumas. You, who hardly ever cry and keep your emotions locked within your heart, broke down in a park.” Ladybug's heart wrenched at the memory. “That alone should scream that you’re at your breaking point. There’s no way an Akuma wouldn’t appear. You know that; they know that.”

“Then, we don’t tell them that I cried. You found me when I was feeling depressed, and I just decided to share more about it.” He pressed.

At this point, Ladybug scooted over to Chat and hugged him. “Adrien, I know you’re tired of secrets and want us to be together as much as possible. Trust me, I long for that too. But I can’t help but think it will still raise suspicions.” She pulled back and cupped his cheeks, stroking them. “Why don't we start slow? We keep our distance but slowly get closer as we learn more about each other. Like maybe the stress of being in the last year of lycée has led us to fall on each other for support or something. Give it two weeks to a month, then we can physically start getting closer.”

“But—”

“I’m not done yet Chaton. In the meantime, behind closed doors, we can hang out as our superhero selves, text to check up on one another, anything.”

He pulled her into his embrace once again and nuzzled her hair whispering into her ear. “Anything?”

Ladybug shivered at the tingling sensation and had enough of whatever he was doing. She placed her arms around his neck and her face reached for his ear. “You know what I mean,” and bit his ear.

He squawked and pulled back with a visibly red face. “My lady! How scandalous!”

A smirk finally graced her face.

#mesfics #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #mlb fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #post chat blanc #hurt/comfort #unstained

3 notes · View notes

triforceangel13 · 4 years ago

Text

An Accidental Mating Ch. 13 (A Sidlink Omegaverse Story)

Chapter 13: So Close Yet So far

“I must insist that you let me into this town of yours at once,” Sidon said with a scowl on his face. “This is a dire matter that must be addressed with the chief.”

“I'm sorry sir, but we do not allow voe into our town. Even if they are of a different race,” the Gerudo guard said at the front gates.

“I am a prince,” he insisted, hoping that card would work in his favor but as Zelda had told him over and over in the carriage, it did not. On the way there she had told him to wait in the oasis just a few miles from Gerudo Town. It was the only place there that had access to water for him and his men, but also because voe were not allowed in the town.

She had told him she would try to have gotten Riju to come out with her but he had been so stubborn, wanting to explain the situation himself in hopes that it would be the one thing that would allow him inside.

It didn't work as Zelda had predicted.

“I'm sorry your highness but we must stand by our rule,” the other guard had said. “We do apologize for the inconveinence.”

Sidon let out a heavy sigh and turned away, struggling to storm away in the sands with his feet, wearing special shoes even. The sands were much too hot for his scales.

His eyes looked out into the vast desert. A cliffiside was the closest thing within eyesight and all Sidon could do was look at it.

Why was he drawn to that area? Perhaps it was just the heat that was getting to him. That had to be it. He needed the water.

Zelda had followed after him and crossed her arms, frowning at the prince as her eyes practically screamed “I told you so”.

“I told you it wasn't going to work,” she huffed at him, tapping her foot in the sand. “We need to get you back to the oasis so you can get into the water. You're going to dehydrate yoursef at this point and we need you.”

“I know I know,” Sidon sighed heavily, leaning his head back against the outside wall of the town. “I just had hoped that maybe it would be different given this is about Link and his well being...Goddess above, I hope he's alright.”

Zelda rest her hand on his arm a bit, a somber look coming across her face. “I hope so too. He's very strong and able to figure things out. I know he's been in different situations that have been much worse than this but...”

Sidon didnt need her to say it. He knew what she was getting at. He hadn't been pregnant before. The Yiga clan could use their baby against him to get what they wanted.

“He may have been in worse situations princess,” Sidon sighed, looking out to the cliffside again despite still not knowing why. “But he had not been pregnant then. He didn't have another person relying on him.”

Zelda bit her lip and shifted uncomfortably in place. They both felt powerless. They didn't know where Link could be until they spoke to Riju.

“I can try to get her out to the oasis but...” she sighed.

“Once you mention the Yiga clan they will not let her out of their sight,” Sidon finished. “I know. They would do the same to me if I was younger.”

Zelda sighed and looked to the walls of the town. “We both need to get into there. The two of us telling all the details to her will help immensly but...that policy of no men is a problem. There has to be a way to get you in. ”

“How did Link even get in there in the first place?” Sidon asked. “He had to have done something to get past those guards.”

“Do you by chance mean the champion of hyrule?” came a sultry voice from nearby. Sidon's gold eyes turned to look at whom it was.

A gerudo woman with her face covered in a purple viel stepped forward, mysterious eyes peeking out at the two of them.

“Yes, we were actually,” Zelda said. “I know men aren't allowed into the town but, do you know of a way that we can get the prince inside?”

“Of course,” she said with a small giggle which had Zelda smiling a little bit, catching onto her little secret she was hiding behind the mask. “You go in the same way the champion of Hyrule was able to get in, time and time again.”

Zelda thought on it a bit and then her eyes widened. She pulled out the sheikah slate and scrolled through the pictures, finding one of Link dressed in a similar outfit as this woman was wearing, though his outfit was a teal color.

“Like this,” Zelda said, showing Sidon the picture. The prince looked at it and flushed darkly at the sight of his mate in such a revealing outfit.

“My, what an outfit,” Sidon said, looking away from the screen to try to compose himself. Maybe in the future when Link was safe he could ask to see such an outfit. He did wonder why he hadn't ever heard of it before.

“Do you think you can find one that would fit him?” Zelda asked the woman. The woman smiled beneath her mask which reched her eyes easily.

“Of course I can scrounge something up. Perhaps add a little make up to make him look a little pink to fool the guards into beliving he's female,” she said with confidence. “Oh yes, by the time I'm done with him everyone will be in awe.”

Sidon stared between the two women until it clicked of what it was that they wanted to do to him to get him into the town.

“No,” Sidon said quickly. “I am not dressing as a woman. And Zoras dont wear clothes. There has to be another way for me to get inside.”

“Sidon, this is the quickest way to get inside. It worked for Link, I don't see why it wouldn't work for you,” she said to him.

Sidon looked down at her and then at the woman who's eyes seemed to sparkle in excitement about being able to dress the prince. He let out a heavy sigh. He really didn't see any other way that they could get into the town to talk to the the child chief.

“Alright, fine,” he sighed heavily.

The woman clapped and grabbed hold of his arm, dragging him away from the town back towards a tent that was in the back of the town.

Zelda had to hold in her giggles as she followed, waiting patiently outside the tent as Sidon was prepared to get ready to go into the town.

After several miutes, as well as several protests from the prince, he emerged from the tent dressed in a garment similar to the one that the woman had been wearing, though his was a deeper purple tone to the garment.

Zelda's eyes widened at the sight. She had sprinkled pinkish dust along Sidon's body giving him a pink hue, even putting in hydromelons into the top of the outfit to give him the illusion of a more feminine body.

His face was covered with a veil that matched the rest of the outfit but Zelda could till clearly see how embrassed he was with how flushed he was.

“Well Sidon, I got to say you do make one beautiftul Zora,” Zelda complimented which seemed to make him flush even more.

“He is goregeous isn't?” the woman asked with a giggle. “This should get you into the town with no issues. Though I will dare say that they will end up looking at you anyway. There isn't anything I can do for his height.”

“That's alright,” Zelda said, pulling her hair back a bit and held her bag. “I'm going to go get myself changed as well. But what can we do to repay you for it?”

“Oh, nothing princess,” the woman said with a smile behind her mask. “Hearing that the champion of hyrule was in need of aid, this was the first thing I could think of to help. He was a very nice young man and whatever he's going through, I just hope he's alright.”

Zelda smiled softly and nodded. “As do we. All we can hope for is that he's safe.”

Sidon nodded his head a little. “He is my mate and carrying my child. I can only hope that they dont harm either of them.”

“I hope you don't show Link those pictures,” Sidon sighed from behind his veil, nodding his head to the women he passed. They gazed up at him, whispering among them of how beautiful the “pretty Zoran woman” was. “In fact I actually hope you delete those.”

Zelda giggled softly, leading him through the town towards the main building at the other side. “Oh come now Sidon, I think he would think you were cute.”

“This is not cute. Alpha's don't wear clothes like this,” Sidon said with a heavy sigh, keeping his head down as he was suggested to do. He didn't want to bring any unwatned attention to himself. Not when they were on an important mission.

“That's not true. Haven't you smelled the other alphas around here? They're wearing these sort of outfits,” Zelda corrected. Sidon took a quick glance around. Sure enough he could pick out each scent of each alpha, beta, and omega. Their first gender were all women, but their second gender varied everywhere.

It was curious as to why they kept men out but then again he knew he should respect the different culture.

“Alright I take that back,” he stated. “But what about princes. Princes don't wear things like these and embarrass themselves.”

“Wrong again. When you marry Link he would be a prince,” Zelda laughed. “And he would wear one of these.”

Sidon threw his hands up in the air with a sigh. “I'm just uncomfortable then.”

Zelda pat his arm. “I get it. I won't tell him. I promise. Now let's go talk to Riju. I just hope she has more information on the Yiga Clan's hideout.”

Thankfully they were granted an audience with her as Zelda spoke for them, revealing who she was. That had done the trick.

“Welcome Princess Zelda,” Riju said from her throne, hopping off of it and approached the princess, taking her hands in hers. Zelda smiled down at the young girl and squeezed her hands. “It's so great to see you again.”

“It is Riju,” she said warmly, letting go when Buliara cleared her throat. The smaller girl settled onto her throne again with a playful roll of her eyes but motioned for cushions to be brought for her guests to sit on.

Sidon struggled at first and then settled down.

“What do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the princess of hyrule and the prince of the zora?” Riju asked, casting knowing eyes to Sidon who flustered darkly underneath his veil.

“How did you...?”

“I may be young but I am quite persceptive,” Riju said with a small laugh. “I was able to see right through Link's disguise as well. I have to admit the melons are a nice touch.”

Sidon sighed heavily as Zelda broke into a soft laugh with Riju. It even got a chuckle out of Buliara which she quickly hid with a cough.

“Speaking of Link, where is he? I had thought he'd be with the two of you,” Riju said, settling her hands in her lap.

All of the smiles faded quickly and Sidon's eyes cast down to the stone floor.

“He was taken from us,” Sidon explained. “We have no idea where he is. He absolutely is in grave danger..”

“Taken?” Riju asked quickly. “By who?”

“The Yiga,” Zelda said softly. “I saw a yiga clan member knock him unconcious and disappear into a puff of smoke.”

Riju looked up to Buliara a moment and then sighed as she adressed her guests once more.

“I was afraid this would happen,” she said softly.

I’m open for written commissions

want to support? my patreon and kofi (both triforceangel)

my a03 (triforceangel) as another place to read my fics

#breath of the wild #sidlink #an accidental mating

24 notes · View notes

queensdivas · 5 years ago

Text

Peonies Chapter 1

soOkay so for those of you who didn’t know what the heck just happened. Tumblr decided to screw with the first chapter and not post it properly. Rude I know!

So I jumped on my work computer and going to quickly post it so I don’t get in trouble. Teehee.

Y’all ready for this though! I’m so excited for this one! The vocabulary that I’ve had to use is quite nice and fits the times perfectly!

Next Chapter

masterlist

HERE WE GO!

Peonies a a charming lady

She doesn’t like a spot too shady

Likes to live out in the light

Dressed in red or pink or white

To Bloom brighter than the earth

And to defeat all others

What is it like to be a Duchess who will be Governing a vast amount of Northern Italy? I’m not quite sure yet due to the fact mio padre is still ruling over the land and I’m being tutored in the fine games of politics. Oh do not get me wrong I would rather acquire all of the information of learning to rule rather than taking the responsibility too prematurely.

Handing my reins to the stable boy as I began walking inside the Monastery to meet with Mother Superior Ani. I speak to her for council when it comes to somewhat major decisions in my life. This major decision is traveling to Russia and supporting Catherine in her new life. From what she has told me and what I’ve heard from padre. Russia is an absolute catastrophe.

Something is relaxing about walking through the monastery when the sound of the nuns are singing. The beautiful art of the story of Christ, the only sound besides their songs are the winds blowing and birds chirping. Quite beautiful. Standing in the middle of the courtyard as I waited for Mother Ani to greet me for our chat.

“Good afternoon Lady Chiara.” I was greeted by Sister Calderón along with Sister Grazia. The only set of twin nuns I’ve ever witnessed in my life.

“Good afternoon Sister Calderón. Sister Grazia. I’m assuming that Mother Ani is finishing her afternoon confessions?” Asking them as they both nodded.

“How are we feeling today?” They smiled as they approached me.

“We’re going on a mission trip to Africa very soon!” Sister Calderón cheered as Sister Grazia jumped a little.

“We’re finally leaving!” Sister Grazia exclaimed as I smiled and clapped for them.

“Congratulations you two!”

“I’m assuming they told you about their mission trip?” Mother Ani approached us as they collected themselves in front of her. Nodding and they scurrying off back into the chapel.

“They’re very excited. Mother Ani. I promise not to take much of your time today as I know dinner is soon.”

“It’s quite alright. Shall we stroll in the gardens?” She asked as I nodded. As I mentioned before I go to her for counseling as she is the wisest person I’ve ever met in my entire life. Her wisdom comes from true experience unlike most men in the Catholic Church. We began walking towards the gardens so that we may talk in absolute privacy. I need her advice on my thoughts of going to Russia.

“Mother Ani. What have you heard about Russia?” Halting at my question as I expected her reaction. Shocked and in confusion.

“Why are you asking?” Sighing at her question as we entered the archway into the garden.

“My cousin Catherine has married the Emperor of Russia and I’m quite concerned for her. She’s written some horrific things that have happened to her after only being married to him these past few weeks. He has punched her, killed her bear that he gifted her for their wedding, and even has multiple lovers. I know that’s very normal but that’s not exactly the way Catherine and I were raised. I think I would like to go to Russia and support her as she becomes accustomed to her new life.”

“I say that is a very gracious thing to do for your cousin. But are you prepared to deal with the insanity of the monarch and Russian court?” I’ve heard some very bizarre things about them and I get this feeling Catherine should have some sort of noble ally.

“I have been taught how to deal with any form of court and spoiled Monarchs. And being next in line to Govern these lands, they would not dare to lay a finger on me.They’re too busy with Sweden and if they were to kill me, Italy would align with the Swedish in order to defeat the Russians. So that’s not my concern. My only one being is to keep myself sane. Will you pray for me Mother Ani for a safe return?” We stopped as we faced each other.

“Of course my child. When do you leave?”

“In a few days. Mio Padre is sending me with a brand new horse and arms for self defense. Just in case he says. Needs me to stay alive if I’m to do my duty as a Grand Duchess soon.”

“May God protect you on your journey and your aid in Russia. To think when you were baptized at Basilica di San Francesco. You would become this fair and wise over the years. You will make a beautiful Duchess of Italy.” Her words are always ones of great fulfillment. Always positive and never false. A little overconfident but there’s nothing wrong with having a little confidence in yourself. As long as you can control it without coming off as conceited.

The best gift to bring when arriving at a palace that you're staying for a few weeks is a vast variety of different wines. As a gift I’ve brought wine that has been sitting and aging beautiful for almost sixty years. Both sweet and bitter red wines that as I’ve said, have aged beautifully.

I decided to ride up to the Royal Palace on horseback in order to make an impression on the Emperor when he greets me. Besides if I sit in that carriage another minute my legs and bottom will hate me for the rest of my life.

Leading my carriage (which had my maid Fernanda inside) to see that the front yard of the palace was empty. They must be hunting or in the palace working on running the Empire. Pulling the reigns of my horse as we entered the entryway of the palace into the courtyard. Catherine was standing at the entrance as she looked radiant but yet somewhat good. We were practically sisters till I began my schooling of politics.

Climbing down off my horse as she walked towards me as we both bowed to each other. Which left us giggling at each other to then give each other a hug. I have missed my dear cousin/sister and oldest friend in my life!

“My dear Catherine, it is lovely to see you before me. And an Empress! Last time I saw you we were reading Shakesphere on our boat around Sardinia!” I cheered as we linked arms for us to walk inside the palace.

“I’m glad you have arrived at my new home. Sadly..it is not a home sweet home. Not yet at least.” She commented as I nodded.

“I’ve read in your latest letter and from a few reliable sources. I’m not quite sure how the hell you are managing all of this.” I’m finally able to show my true colors in front of Catherine as I must be proper in front of the family, advisers, and so on and so forth. But with Catherine. It is nothing but honesty and true colors.

“The women of court?” Asking her I could feel her cringe.

“Simple minded with their heads filled with emptiness.” We began walking up the stairs as my servant and others carried my things up the stairs.

“Most of the women in court are filled with only air in their heads. Mother always said that entertaining the women of the court is next to impossible. But don’t worry. I am here and those women don’t know what I will be bringing these next few weeks.” We made it to the top of the stairs as a woman approached us.

“Marial. This is my dear cousin Duchess Chiara! She will be placed in the room next to me and I will be telling her all our plans!” Catherine winked as she had a cheeky smile. Tell me what plans? What has she got up her sleeve?

My room was not as big of course as I am a guest. It was a light blue room that had white flowers painted all over. The bed was very tall and extremely spacious with blue and white bedding. I think in England they would call this the Blue Room. A grand fireplace was lit that was also baby blue with gold trim. Come to think of it there was a lot of gold trim in this room which is sort of weird.

Fernanda and those who were bringing my trucks came into my room as she took around my guest room. I took off my riding hat to throw on the bed as Fernanda sat down on one of the guest chairs.

“It’s very modern. But I miss our home.” I nodded as I began unbuttoning my riding coat.

“So do I already. We remembered to pack Padres guns right?” Asking her as she looked over from the chair.

“Yes. I believe they’re bringing them up now.” She pointed towards the door as the rest of my servant brought in my trunks of different forms of weaponry. My fencing sword, regular sword, muskets, rifles, and pistols. I’m going to hunt some sort of wild beast that lives in this mad land and bring it home as a trinket. A Siberian Tiger would be a very nice trinket to bring home for la famiglia.

Catherine came into the room with her maid in a very powerful march. As if she had something extremely important to tell me. AS in a life or death situation that couldn’t wait to be told.

“We have much to discuss before dinner tonight.” Looking at Fernanda who excused herself. I’ll catch her up on the gossip later.

“Now. I’m glad you decided to come and visit me. I have exciting news that I could use your help desperately with.” She pulled me over to the chairs as her servant stood next to her.

“I’m staging a coup d'état and in dire need of your help.” Not what I was expecting to hear in honesty. A coup? To think last year she was so excited to come to Italy and watch La Serva Padrona. And now a coup?

“I umm..mamma mia a coup? Are you quite sure about this Catherine? I’d rather not see you dead. We have too much fun together.”

“Which is why I have you. You’ve been studying how to rule a land and how to take the necessary steps..

“Catherine. I’ve been raised and tutored in Governing a land to be a Duchess not an Empress.” They’re very different in a weird way..wait why am I making excuses! But I should meet the Emperor to see why she’s forming a Coup and if he’s not as bad as I thought, maybe talk her out of it. Gossip from the court isn’t always trustworthy, obviously.

“Let me experience at least one night with your husband..not sexually of course because that’s disgusting. I sadly can’t be seen helping stage a completely different country's coup. Might make a bad reputation for me. But if it is as bad as everyone is saying. I’m in.” She nodded in my response as a small boy came into our room.

“The Emperor requested your presence.” He told Catherine as she rolled her eyes.

“Get yourself ready for dinner Chiara and make sure you take a drink of something. You’ll definitely need it.” Alcohol? Should’ve brought a few barrels of wine just in case. I’ve never had vodka and I know these Russians drink alcohol as if it was coming from their mothers tit.

~~~

I’ve decided to pull out the big dress tonight as to make an impression on her entire court. The Duchess is here and she’s not meant to be tampered with! My brand new bright red dress that had white trills and designs all across it. I wore the royal sash that was given to me by King Ivrea Spoleto which was pearl white. My hair was of course up (even though it hurts my head a little bit) with pearls wrapping around my mountain of hairstyles. I truly don’t approve of it due to the fact that it takes too long to put up.

“Do I look ready to impress an entire court of Russians.” Looking into the mirror one last time as my chocolate hair looked delectable.

“From what I’ve seen going up and down the stairs of this place. You look absolutely stunning.” Fernanda commented as I smiled at her.

“Oh! You need your knife!” Fernanda commented as I placed my right leg up on the end of my bed as she got into the bottom of my trunk. My grandfather's hunting knife that was given to him by the Queen of Chad when he first took reign. It was a beautiful sycamore that swirled at the base, the blade was a beautiful silver that shines everytime you display it. Even after all these years it looks stunning and deadly. Fernanda allowed me to put on the knife holster around my thigh then placed the knife in its holder.

“Wish me luck for dinner. And I wish you the best of luck with chatting with the servants tonight for dinner. I’ll sneak you some desserts if we have anything that’s a pastry.” Winking at her as she nodded.

Walking out of my room as I opened my fan as I waited for Catherine to come out of her room. I think Fernanda tied my corset a little too tight but not the first time this has happened. Though I’d rather be wearing pants and my button ups. Which will be what I wear when I’m running around the palace. Catherine came out of her room in a beautiful white, pink, and red dress that really made her pure white skin shine. Not to mention her blonde hair shined brightly.

“Are you ready for the show?” She asked as we began walking down the stairs.

“Not quite. But I did sneak a glass of wine into my room so my body is not as tense.” We made it down the bottom of the stairs.

“So who is the biggest ass kisser of the Emperor? There’s always one.”

“His name is Grigor Dymov. He kisses the Emperor's ass so much that he allows his own wife to be his whore.”

“The second hand man married to the Emperors would be whore. If we are to do this I’m assuming we’re going after his right hand man? No. A much more subtle approach will be safer. Not that I’ve made my decision on whether to help, but I'd like to at least like to know your plan of action.”

“We’re first going after Count Orlov who has an understanding of the state of Russia. He’s a modern man who reads all of the famous authors in Europe.”

“I’m assuming he’s in the inner circle then?” Walking down the long hallway then stopping in front of the double doorway.

“Yes. We're here. Just put on a fake smile and we’ll be just fine.”

The doors opened and a wave of heat hit my skin. A mixture of alcohol and what smells like fish hit my nose as I wanted to just go back to my room. But I have to do this and need the impression in order to make my decision.

My fan helped me cool down tremendously as I was looking around at The Emperor's Court. To my right there were some women watching butterflies flying around her in a complete state of awe! They’re butterflies! Oh my goodness it is a show! There of course was dancing in the middle of the room that looked a little unfamiliar. I have to remind myself that I’m not at home and in a completely different country.

Catherine handed me a glass of the clear liquid which is what I’m assuming is Vodka. Lifting my head back as It burned down my entire throat as I shook my head.

“Heavens Catherine!” I laughed as she giggled.

“Definitely helps.” She commented as we began walking further into the room then approaching the women with the butterflies.

“Wow.” Catherine put on this extreme different face and even attitude before me which impressed me.

“I am training them.” The women told us as she began coughing and gagging right in front of us. Holding her hand out to cough out two butterflies! What!

“They do not all make the journey to a new land. Oh and who is this lovely woman.” She asked Catherine as I tried to not scream in horror.

“This is my cousin Duchess Chiara of Italy. This is Aunt Elizbeth of Russia.” We bowed at each other as we sat down on one of the couches that was facing the fireplace. Which of course was absolutely grande with a large elk head hanging above it.

“Let us talk of how you are.” She even had a butterfly drawn on her face! Talk about obsessions.

“I’m quite well. Note my smiling face! My cousin has come to visit me for these next few weeks and I couldn’t be happier.” Smiling as I began looking around the room. Now where is this fat old man that she married and killed her bear! And who also punched her in the stomach.

“I do! Has Emperor Peter also had something to do with this?”

“He has been sweet.”

“Oh. At heart, that is him. You know, as a young boy, Peter would run to his mother, holding aloft a picture he’d drawn or a boat fashioned from leaves, his eyes and words begging for approbation for love. And she would level a gaze at him and hold him in it, and he would fall silent and go so still. And then tears would run from his eyes, and his whole body would begin shaking uncontrollably, and urine would pool at his feet...it was a curious phenomenon.” Catherine and I shared the same facial expression as Elizabeth finished her story to us about Peter. So obviously he wasn’t an old man as I thought and was just a grown child who can’t stand the thought of someone not loving him. Have I made the correct character judgment through his own Aunt? Yes.

“Why would she do that?” Catherine asked as I was also intrigued.

“Everyone has their thing. Hers was cruelty. So I’m asking for some forgiveness, some empathy, from one I can tell is filled with both.” So he’s just a messed up King with mamma and papa issues. Quite ordinary in the monarchs. We began watching Elizabeth playing with her butterflies as a servant offered me a tray of tiny glasses of vodka. Taking one, drinking it then placing it back on the tray. A snap came from Elizabeth as I noticed a butterfly then landed on her finger.

“That is incredible.” I commented as she looked at me.

“Indeed.” Elizabeth went into her own world as Catherine moved herself towards me.

“Ready to meet him?” She asked as I shook my head.

“Non..Non Catherine.” Grabbing my hand for us to start walking towards him. Pushing past all the dancers as I stood a few inches behind her.

“Good evening husband!” Her husband was with another man as I looked down to see he’s in a skirt? They both turned towards her as he had no interest in speaking to us.

“Empress.” He took a sip of his wine as his eyes drifted away from us. Why is he wearing a skirt?

“You look marvelous! And your skirt, it is very pretty.” Why is Catherine kissing her own husband's ass? What woman needs to kiss her own husband's ass! He turned towards us as he flashed himself. Luckily it was all covered.

“Thanks. It also allows one’s cock to swing free in the air. It’s marvelous. Old Madam Bolzoi whipped it up.”

“It’s genius. I apologize if I have been sour face lately. I had my blood in, and you know how that goes..Rrrr.” An excuse that is older than time itself. But usually works because men think they're always being over dramatic during our blood. When in reality they are just horrid creatures.

“Oh, right. I see. Well that explains much.”

“But I feel much restored.” I haven’t seen this much ass kissing since Peter was kissing Jesus’ ass.

“Who the hell are you?” His eyes drifted towards me as I took a step forward.

“My dear husband is my cousin Duchess Chiara of Italy.”

“Emperor.” Bowing in front of him as I then held up myself strong and ready to take on this madman.

“It is truly an honor to be invited here to stay in your breath taking palace. I bring gifts from my home being a beautiful batch of sweet and bitter red wines. In gratitude for letting me stay in your home.” Turning towards the door as about six barrels of wine entered the room as everyone began cheering.

“I hope you enjoy them as a sign of peace from Italy.” Smiling as I knew Catherine would enjoy that little show. Have to make sure the Emperor doesn’t see me as a threat and the goal was achieved.

“God you are stunning. Grigor doesn’t she make your cock hard?” My eyes widened at his statement as all I could do was just stand there.

“Extremely.” He shook his head as I wanted to shoot him. Back home if I was to be talked to like this, the men would be beating the life out of him. I promise you that’s exactly how that happens. My sister was once insulted by an Austrian diplomat..and let’s just say he ended up floating in the Adriatic sea the next morning.

“Tell me, great Emperor. What is the nature of this lively banquet? I've yet to catch up with the issues of Russia.” Everytime I open my mouth up to him, I can feel my skin twisting in regret and my tongue wanting to stop waggling.

“We are honoring some of our wounded who finally won a battle for us against Sweden. Poor fucking guys.” Catherine and I turned our heads to see them in the corner of the room.

“No eyes that one. To never see a naked women or a deer in full fucking fight again. Still, he may fuck ugly women and be happy now.” I’ve never wanted to slap someone so hard in the face!

“Huzzah!” Catherine cheered as she looked completely uncomftorable.

“Let us dance!” Swinging Catherine onto the dance floor as I took a few steps back into the crowd. Grigor I believe his name stood closely beside me as I noticed he was looking at me.

“My apologies Duchess. I did not mean anything by what I said towards you.” Stopping the waving of my fan to face him.

“The right hand man of the Emperor yes?” Asking him as we faced each other.

“Grigor Dymov at your service.” He bowed as I turned off my fake smile.

“I have no service for someone like you. The Emperor's right hand man who kisses his ass so much that shit must be stuck in your ears. I would pity you but being married to the Emporers would be whore. Now that is just..sad. Excuse me.” Walking away from him as I turned my head slightly to see that he was in utter shock.

We walked into the dinning room after the so called dance that her dellusionaly husband made her do as if they were drunk. Catherine and I entered the dining room as The Emperor kicked some sort of General out of his chair as he then moved Elizabeth out of her seat down one more.

“The fat ass gladly gave up his seat. As no Duchess shall be seating with the court members. Greedy fucks.” Peter laughed as I smiled at him. What a rude bastard. But not completely wrong about the people of court.

“Thank you Emperor.” Sitting down as one of the servants pushed my chair in. There were three glasses that sat in front of me at the table. One was filled with wine, another water, then finally a massive one filled with vodka.

A dish appeared at me that looked like some sort of dumpling dish with a side of red..pasty soup? Grabbing my spoon as I poked it as it was meat? Beets? Both? Dipping my spoon into the soup as it tasted..well. The beets were very spiced with a hint of vinegar. The meat was especially spiced but has a sweet after taste. Interesting.

From what I gathered about the Emporer. He’s literally a child that requires all the attention and love from every interaction he has with a person. Which doesn’t come as a surprise due to the fact that the Duke in Sardinia acted just like him, but he ended up jumping into the sea as he learned no one truly loved him. So once Peter realizes that no one truly loves him, maybe he’ll jump into the mouth of a Tiger.

“Tell me Dear. I hope you’re here to bring Catherine happiness. And not here to start trouble between the both of them.” Her Aunt Elizabeth asked me as I took a sip of my water.

“Well. When I received her letter about what happened between them..the bear and the punching. I care about her as if she was my own sister. All I’m here for is her happiness.” A butterfly landed on my nose which made her giggle.

“They see a good soul in you and love it. I hope that you feel welcomed to our home, and it was a good idea bringing wine as a gift. Peter loves his alcohol.” She giggled as I looked down to my nose so watch the butterfly crawl around the tip of it.

“Bring in those Swedish heads!” What? Is that code for a dessert? A servant took away my plate of food that I didn’t even finish yet as I noticed a tray was coming in that had hair on it?

“We will eat dessert under their beady gaze!” Peter giggled as a tray was placed in front of me that..had a Swedish head on it..

God please forgive me.

My stomach turned into knots as I felt the little dinner I had was making its way back up through my throat. Catherine and I looked at each other in disgust as I wanted to run from the room, get on my horse and ride home. Now I see..A coup sounds like a wonderful idea.

The pudding or whatever it was looked delicious but..I can’t..The vomit went into my mouth but I swallowed it back down then drinking my entire glass of water. Just breath Chiara and it will be almost over.

“You rude fucker!” Peter yelled as he lifted his head up to look at his face. Standing up as he began digging his finger into the head.

“Everyone! Poke their fucking eyes out!” He looked so proud of himself! Everyone excluding Catherine and I just sat there as the sound of squishing and eyeballs falling onto the trays filled my heads.

“If you don’t he’ll kill you.” She whispered standing up with the man's head. Doing the sign of the cross as I stood up to lift his head.

“Mi Dispiace. Possa Dio avere pietà della tua anima.” Catherine turned her head as I felt my eyes watering. A single tear fell as I dug my fingers into the first eye. The squishing, blood beginning to drip down my arm as the first eye popped out.

“HUZZAH! DEATH TO THE SWEDISH!” Peter yelled as everyone cheered, drinking their vodka and smashing the glasses onto the floor. Dropping the head onto the tray as everyone began leaving the dining room. My right hand was covered in blood as my toes curled up in my heels from the sight.

The dry blood on my hands was something I couldn’t stop looking at. It’s not that I’ve never seen blood before in my life..but when it comes from..a soldier who probably didn’t even want to fight..I hope that God is merciful to them. They needed to be buried and given a chance to enter the gates of Heaven.

I couldn’t move for..I’m not quite sure how long at this point. Long enough that the servants came into the dinning room to start cleaning up. A woman with a large sack began dropping them into a burlap sack.

“What will you do with them?” Asking the women as she looked up at me.

“Burn them.” No..no. They do not deserve to be burned. Catherine came into the room as I stood up and wanted to scream.

“I’m a Catholic...you’re an Orthodox..we both know their souls can not be saved..but they deserve some sort of burial. Is there a priest in this wretched palace?” She looked upon the dining room then walked over to the servant and then over to me.

“Let them gather the heads and we’ll go speak to the Bishop.” The servant handed us the sack of heads as we began carrying them down the hall as she led me to the Bishops room. It was much heavier than I thought it would be. Never thought I would be thinking a bag of decapitated heads would be heavy! Knocking on the door as he flung it open in annoyance of being distrubed.

“We need you to give these a Christian burial.” SHe ordered as I opened the bag so he could see the horrors of war.

“I can only do a whole body.” He was about to shut the door but I believe the faces that were displayed on Catherines and my face weren't going to take no as an answer. I will send a rider to the Vatican if I have to in order for them to have some sort of entering the gates of heaven.

“I could bless them.” The Bishop told us as I nodded in acceptance of the deal.

A pound of thunder rang out as the heads were gently placed into the hole in the ground. Hard cold rain poured down upon us for Catherine and I to hold hands. We watched as the dirt was beginning to pile on top of their heads. I grabbed my rosary that I wore around my neck for my fingers to hold my cross. The Bishop went on reading from the bible as I softly spoke my own prayer.

“Il Signore ti benedica e ti mantenga, mostrarti la sua faccia e abbi pietà di te. Volse lo sguardo verso di te e ti dava pace. Il Signore ti benedica…..Amen.” Finishing my prayer for the Bishop finished his prayer as he left Catherine and I out in the rain.

“I want to rip the crown off his head myself.” Blurting out as Catherine turned her heads towards me.

“A Coup d'état..sounds like a magnificent plan..”

Taglist:

@mirkwoodshewolf @bonafiderocketqueen @filmslutt @leah-halliwell92 @johndeaconshands @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @radio-hoo-ha @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too @deck-heart @arrowswithwifi @stardust-killer-queen @the-baby-bookworm @actuallyanita @sadhwstudent

#grigor dymov #grigor dymov x reader #grigor #Gwil #Gwilym Lee #Gwily #The Great #Grigor Dymov x o/c #The Great hbo #elle fanning #catherine the great #peter the third #peter of russia #nicholas hoult #Marial #Count Orlo #Russia #Leo #Vlad

101 notes · View notes

ohthatsviolet · 5 years ago

Text

A Holo-Healer Fanfic.

In Dire Times - Mirage/Lifeline (1,356 words).

Ajay has had a crush on him for a while, but now, pinned down between multiple squads, she worries she might miss her chance to admit her feelings. (This was meant to be a drabble oops. Ao3 link will be in the RBs as usual).

It wasn't looking good.

They were pinned down between multiple squads, in the middle of an open field, with little ammo and even less meds. D.O.C had taken a shot from somewhere in the distance, leaving him out of commission. Elliott had tried to repair some of the damage, mid firefight, which just showed how desperate they were for supplies. He'd managed to shock his fingers in the process, and let out a loud yelp, unable to focus under the immense pressure of the situation; which only alerted a nearby squad to their location. They fought them off somehow, which left them with more time but less supplies and a bigger problem than before.

"Stop! Stop! That fucking hurts!" the trickster cried out, through gritted teeth.

Ajay's eyes flicked between her bloody hands that were covering the fresh wound in her squadmate's side, and the fingers that were clinging desperately to her forearm.

"Gotta keep the pressure there," she said, her tone calm despite the situation. "There's nothing else I can for ya, right now."

Elliott kept quiet after that, save for his rapid breathing that he was struggling to keep under control. His head fell back against the rock behind him, and shut his eyes tightly. Ajay wasn't sure if it was due to the amount of pain he was in or because he was trying to stop himself from crying; or both.

"I don't wanna die today!" he eventually blurted out, shaking his head. "I don't want to die."

"No one's dyin'," the medic assured him, applying more weight to the bloodied area. "As long as ya keep that mouth shut, we'll get out of here."

"F-fuck, Ajay," he hissed, his grip on her arm tighning. "That hurts so bad. Stop. Please."

"Listen to me," she said, the request forcing the trickster to open his eyes and look at her. "Ya gotta keep it down. Keep it together."

"What's the point?! We're as good as dead anyways!" Elliott cried, his brown eyes flicking around in alarm as the circle began to close in on them. "Fuck, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die. Not like this."

"Stay with me, Witt. You're losing your cool."

Ajay couldn't help but think, maybe he was right. Things were looking pretty dire, but she wasn't about to go down with a fight. But still, the thought lingered in the back of her mind. What if this was the end? There were things she still wanted to do and unfortunately for her...one of the things on the top of that list, was sitting in front of her, babbling about his imminent death.

"I don't wanna di-."

She didn't give him time to finish his sentence, leaning forward to close the space between them, kissing his lips; her movements urgent and desperate. This wasn't the situation she'd dreamt of when she had thought about the possibility of sharing this moment with the trickster, but she wasn’t about to miss out, if this might be her only opportunity. She could feel him relax slightly underneath her, despite the dumbstruck look on his face when they parted.

"Ajay…".

"Now, will ya quit your whinging?"

“Wha-.”

"I've liked ya for a while, alright?" she admitted, adjusting her hands to see how her patient was holding up. "But I ain't about to be crushin’ on a cry baby, ya hear me?"

Elliott nodded weakly, though he still looked confused as he undid the scarf around his neck, before tossing it to her.

"Use...this."

She returned his nod, hastily beginning to tear the fabric into pieces she could use for makeshift bandages. Elliott bit down on his lip, while she attended to his wound, taking the opportunity to reload his Wingman, holding it close to his chest.

"Ajay...I th-think there's someone on...our left."

So, she'd gone and gotten herself into a bit of a mess. Ajay fidgeted with the bandages that were wrapped around her lower leg, while she sat in the corridor of the medical bay. They'd managed to get out of the arena with only a couple of injuries. They hadn't won, but losing was better than being dead, in her book. Her eyes drifted to the fingerprint sized bruises that were beginning to form on her bicep. What was she going to do now? What was she thinking, kissing Elliott like that? She knew getting involved with co-workers could be messy, and this was no different. The whole thing was probably caught on camera too…

"I...um...am I interrupting something?"

The medic glanced up to see her teammate lingering nearby, having just come out of the doctor's office.

"Nah."

Elliott chuckled quietly, sounding a tad unsure.

"You just...looked a little spaced out."

"I guess, I just have stuff on my mind," Ajay replied, reaching to adjust her headband, watching as the trickster shuffled from one foot to the other.

"I...same."

"Ya alright?"

Elliott flashed her his signature charming smile, taking a few steps forward.

"Well, I'm now bullet free, so that is definitely an improvement, from earlier."

She laughed at the statement, and he couldn't help but notice how her freckles appeared so much more noticeable when she smiled. He thought they were adorable. His eyes casted onto the floor beneath him, when the space between them fell quiet. Ajay had just begun to stand from her seat, thinking their conversation was over, until the trickster spoke up again.

"Did...did you...mean what you said earlier? In the arena? About...liking me?"

Shit.

The medic folded her arms and shrugged, suddenly feeling very sheepish: something she didn't feel very often.

"I...Elliott…".

"I just...uh, need to know because...sometimes people say stuff like that to...I don't know. They say it, and then I never hear from them again," he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry...that sounded a lot more...pathetic than I meant it to."

"I...do like ya, Elliott," Ajay began, noticing the hopeful gleam in his eye, which only made what she was about to say that much harder. "But…".

The trickster sighed, loudly.

"Why is there always a but?" he asked. "Maybe I...I like you too."

She hadn't expected that.

"...Really?"

He smiled shyly at her, coming closer again, until he was in her space but she didn't move away; She didn't want to.

"Yeah. I mean you're...like the most incredible woman I know. You're brave. Funny. Smart and gorgeous. What's not to like?"

Ajay shrugged, coyly. She wasn't usually the type to give into flattery, but there was something about what Elliott had just said, that was making her blush like crazy. She had a crush on him for a while now, but it was something she had kept to herself because she never thought anything would happen; because it couldn't happen.

"It don't matter," she replied, with a shake of her head. "We can't...What would everyone say if Mirage and Lifeline went on a date? We'd get accused of tryna rig matches or something. We can't."

The trickster ran a hand over his beard, considering her words.

"Why can't it just be...Elliott and Ajay?"

"That's the same thing."

"Is it?"

She was starting to hate him a little. Maybe not really, but she hated how his smile made her feel weak at the knees.

"Come on," he said, poking her playfully. "I'd love to take you out. Especially after you saved my ass today. Dinner? Tomorrow?"

Despite herself, she couldn't contain the amused laugh that escaped her.

"You're a real chancer, ain't ya Witt?"

Elliott beamed at her.

"Is that one of the things you like about me?"

"Maybe," she replied, nudging his arm lightly. "Alright, fine. Tomorrow. But I'm pickin' where we eat."

Elliott clapped his hands together and offered her a soft smile, that she couldn't help but return.

"Great! It's a date!"

“It is,” she hummed, standing on her tippy-toes so she could pull him down into another kiss. “But ya’ll be damned if I’m gonna wait till tomorrow to do this again.”

#apex legends #apex legends fanfic #apex legends mirage #apex legends lifeine #mirage x lifeline #lifeline x mirage #holohealer

40 notes · View notes

squirmymochi · 5 years ago

Text

meet & greet - fukase (vocaloid) omorashi

commission for a lovely customer who asked for fukase vocaloid omorashi! this was a super fun fic to work on, so i hope you all enjoy!!

read on ao3

***

“How long till the doors open?” Fukase asks, glancing down at his phone to check the time. The meet and greet is supposed to start around noon and go all the way till three, maybe even longer considering the amount of tickets they’d sold over the past couple of weeks. Fukase isn’t exactly excited to get swarmed by the hoard of pushy, grabby fangirls and fanboys he knows he’ll have to deal with, but there are always those few kind, respectful fans that make the hours of sitting and signing and taking photos bearable.

“You’ve got five minutes,” his manager tells him, holding out a cold bottle of water. “Better drink up. You’re gonna have to do a lot of talking today. We basically sold out of tickets, and now that we’re offering video packages I’m guessing people are gonna have you saying all kinds of stuff to the camera.”

Fukase sighs, reaching out to accept the water bottle. There’s still a few drops of water clinging to the outside, and the coolness against his skin makes him shiver. He uncaps it quickly, tilting his head back and taking a few deep swigs before he comes up for air. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he’d been until now, and by the time his manager is calling for the doors to open he’s already downed almost all of the bottle.

Soon enough, a crowd of loud, excited fans is ushered into the main room, forming a long line that wraps around the room like a snake. Fukase eyes the throng warily as he enters from behind the photo area, pursing his lips when the screams grow louder as the fans see him. He hears calls of “Fukase, I love you!” and “You’re the best, Fukase-san!” and smiles politely as he sits down at the signing table.

The smile melts off his face as he feels a twinge in his abdomen, a careful reminder from his bladder of all the drinks he’d had in the morning, not to mention the water he’d just drank minutes ago. Shoot, he thinks, glancing down at himself and squeezing his legs together once before relaxing again. I should’ve asked to go before the meet and greet started. He hasn’t gone to the bathroom since he woke up that morning, and even that feels like forever ago.

You’ll be fine, he tells himself as the line begins to move forward, the first nervous fan clutching his poster as he makes his way to the signing table. It’s only three hours. Just try not to drink anything else and you’ll make it through.

His manager, standing at the side of the table next to Fukase, gives his chair a gentle kick as the first fan approaches. Fukase snaps back to reality, trying to smile and ignore the twinges in his bladder. “Hey there,” he says, watching the boy’s face light up at his voice. “How are you?”

“F-Fine!” the boy exclaims in a high-pitched voice, mouth a wavery line. “I’m a big fan, Fukase-san! It’s an honor to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Fukase says, sliding the poster across the table and using one of the pens on the table to sign his name. “Did you want to take a picture?”

The boy nods vigorously, excitement seeping out of him. Fukase grits his teeth as he stands up to walk to the photobooth--he hadn’t realized how often he’d have to stand up and sit down to take pictures. He sends a quick glare at the almost finished bottle of water on the table before looking towards the camera, sticking out his tongue and doing his signature smirk before sending the first kid off with a wave and a pat on the back.

The next person in line is another shy one, this time a girl with Fukase’s newest CD in her hands. “Nice to meet you, Fukase-san!” she says, setting the album down in front of him carefully. “I love your music!”

“Thank you for your support,” Fukase says with a quick smile, scrawling his name across the front of the CD. “I’m glad you like my music.”

The girl is practically vibrating with excitement as she poses with him for a photo, holding up a peace sign as she does. Fukase shifts his weight from one side to another as he waits for the photographer to give the OK, flashing the girl one last smile before he heads back to his seat. He presses his knees together subconsciously, hunching his back a little bit to take some of the strain off his bladder. It’s not near a dire situation yet, but he’d still prefer to get this meet and greet over before it becomes one.

Surely it won’t get that bad within three hours, though. And even if it does, he can always ask for a bathroom break in the middle of the session. He saw a bathroom on his way into the building, so he knows exactly where it is, and surely his fans wouldn’t mind waiting a few extra minutes while he relieves himself.

He stores the thought in the back of his mind as the next fan approaches, turning all of his attention to the crowd. It’ll be over in no time, he tells himself as he signs the next CD, the girl in front of him squealing with delight. For now, you just have to wait.

Waiting, as it turns out, is not easy when you really, really have to pee.

Fukase is struck with this thought at the same time that his bladder contracts, causing him to slam his legs together and shift his hips from side to side. His hand is clenched into a fist on top of the table to keep it from darting down to his crotch for a quick squeeze--there are too many fans around, and if a photo of him holding himself got out to the public, it would put too large a stain on his career.

“Next in line!” his manager shouts, and Fukase forces himself to straighten his back and relax his arms, trying his best to appear normal. He watches the next girl in line step forward confidently, a large, glossy poster outstretched in one hand. She lays it across the table with a flourish, hitting Fukase with a glittering smile.

“Nice to meet you, Fukase-kun!” she says with a laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m a fan of yours.”

“Thank you,” Fukase grits out, grabbing a pen from the jar and uncapping it with shaky hands. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“My name is Aina,” the girl says, holding out a hand. Fukase drops the capped pen to the table and grabs Aina’s hand weakly, giving it a single, jerky shake before letting go.

“Nice to meet you, Aina,” he repeats, going back to signing the poster. “Did you want a pho-”

“You know, I had a chance to meet you before,” Aina interrupts. “A couple years ago, actually! But I was totally sick and couldn’t make it to the event. I’m so glad I snagged these tickets so I could come meet you for reals!”

“I’m glad too,” Fukase says, shifting his weight in his chair as he speaks. It’s nice that you got to meet me, but I’d appreciate it if you’d hurry up! he adds in his head, crossing his legs at the ankle and leaning forward on the table.

“That poster’s been hanging on my wall ever since your debut,” Aina tells him, gesturing to the signed poster. “I thought I’d never get a chance to have your signature on it, but look at me now!”

“Yeah,” Fukase agrees, nodding tensely. He’s had conversations like these with fans before, though he’s never had to pee while waiting for them to finish up their thoughts. It makes the whole experience that much more unpleasant, though he knows his manager would kill him if he ends up looking disinterested.

“Well, should we take a photo together?” Aina suggests at last, gesturing to the photobooth. “You know, to commemorate the occasion.”

“Of course,” Fukase practically sighs, though the idea of standing and posing doesn’t sound too appealing to him right now. Regardless, he forces himself to his feet, trying to hide his grimace as gravity tugs on his bladder and makes him want to squirm on the spot. He takes short, jagged steps towards the photobooth as Aina waits for him, looking into the camera with as good a smile as he can manage while she poses next to him.

“Could you move your legs a bit further apart, Fukase-san?” the photographer asks, gesturing to Fukase’s lower half. Reluctantly, Fukase moves his legs a bit further apart, tensing his whole body when a small wave of need hits him. Aina doesn’t seem to notice, posing happily next to him as the photographer takes a picture with her phone.

“Thank you for your support,” Fukase says, taking a step back towards the table, but Aina holds out a hand to stop him before he can sit again.

“Look how cute it turned out!” she exclaims, holding the phone out for him to see. “You look amazing as ever, Fukase-kun!”

Fukase glances at the photo, cringing internally as he takes in his awkward stance. Hopefully Aina won’t put the picture out on social media, he thinks, but before he can sit down again something else catches his eye.

Oh, fuck, he thinks as Aina moves her phone away, cold fear settling into his bones. It’s one in the afternoon? How has it only been an hour?!

“Next!” his manager calls from beside him, but Fukase barely notices as the next fan approaches. If his need has gotten this bad in the span of an hour, and he’s got to be here all the way until three, there’s no way he’ll make it without a bathroom break. He’s about to whisper his request to his manager, but the next boy in line is already at the table, waiting with a sign board tucked under his arm.

“H-Hello,” Fukase says, his nerves a little frayed still. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Daisuke,” the boy says, sounding almost… bored? “But don’t sign it with my name--I’m here to get a gift for my sister.”

He doesn’t even listen to my music? Fukase thinks, trying his best not to let his annoyance show. He’s not one to flaunt a big ego, but this event was supposed to be for his fans. Even if this boy is just here to get a quick signature, that’s one more body he has to deal with before he can slip away and pee, and he already feels more desperate than he’d ever dared to be in front of his fans. He shifts his weight forward, leaning heavily on the table as the boy slides the sign board in front of him.

“Well, what’s your sister’s name?” he asks, doing his best to sound calm and reasonable. If his manager catches him being rude to fans, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“Her name is Makoto,” the boy says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “She has, like, all of your CDs.”

“That’s great to hear,” Fukase says, his breath hitching at the end as he’s hit with a small surge of desperation. He pushes his arms into the table and lifts his ass barely an inch off the seat, tensing his legs and locking them at the knee as he finishes signing. “It was nice to-”

“I want to get a picture, too,” the boy cuts him off, and Fukase feels a flare of anger inside his stomach. What the hell? This kid doesn’t even like my music, and now he wants a picture?

“Of course,” Fukase’s manager says, speaking for him when he takes too long to answer. “Is it for your sister? We could have Fukase hold up the sign board and record a video message to make it special.”

“Sure, that’s fine,” the boy says dismissively. Fukase balls his hands into fists, letting out a long, slow breath to keep his temper in check. His bladder chooses that moment to contract again, and without thinking he reaches under the table to grab himself.

The relief of pressure against his dick for the first time in an hour is heavenly, his need automatically reduced to a dull nagging feeling. He sighs out loud, taking a second to enjoy the outside help, but his relief is short lived. Both his manager and the boy are staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to head for the photobooth.

“Sorry,” Fukase says, not feeling very sorry at all, and reluctantly lets go of his crotch to grab onto the sign board and push himself into a standing position. The boy follows him in front of the backdrop (though each step Fukase takes feels like a mini earthquake inside his abdomen) and stands blankly next to him while the photographer sets up.

“What should I say to her?” he asks the boy, gripping the sides of the signboard with white knuckles. God, he feels so full, his whole body tensed and locked, and now he has to appear normal on video to make this jerk’s sister happy. He hopes he doesn’t look as desperate as he feels, though he can tell from the looks he’s getting that it’s clear something’s wrong.

“Not sure,” the boy says, uncaring. Fukase resists the urge to snap at him, tapping his foot against the ground impatiently. Standing still is hard.

“Recording in three, two, one,” the photographer says, holding out the phone. Fukase forces his usual smile back onto his face, holding up the sign board for his fans to see. “H-Hi, Makoto,” he says, his voice wavering a bit. “Thank you for, ah, being one of my best fans!”

He’s hit by a sudden urge in the middle of his sentence, his bladder reminding him that it’s not happy with being ignored. He bends forward at the waist, crossing one leg over the other and holding the board a bit lower, trying to hide his awkward pose. “This is F-Fukase, thanking you for your love and sssupport!”

He hisses the last word, his nose scrunching up as he shifts his hips back and forth, fighting his need as subtly as he can. His face grows red as a couple of his fans shoot him wary looks, trying to cover up his mistake with a wider-than-usual smile, and thanks whatever deity is out there when the photographer gives the all clear.

“Thanks,” the boy says, taking his phone back and heading for the exit. Fukase shoots a displeased glance at the back of his head before hurrying back to his seat. He leans over to his manager, who holds a finger up to the next girl in line.

“What is it, Fukase?” she asks in a whisper, meeting his gaze. “Something wrong?”

“Can we take a break for a minute?” Fukase asks, matching her quiet tone. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Is it an emergency?”

“Well… No,” he answers, opening and closing his legs ever so slightly. “I just-”

“Then no, we can’t,” his manager tells him, much to his dismay. “You’re going through the crowd much slower than usual today. Maybe those custom videos weren’t such a good idea.”

“But I need to-”

“Fukase,” she says sharply, “I’m serious. We have to get through this crowd as quickly as possible. Do you want to make the fans at the end of the line wait?”

“No, but-”

“No buts. Let me know when it’s an emergency. Until then, keep signing and posing, and smile, okay?”

“Ah… Okay,” Fukase sighs, running his lip between his teeth. Sure, it’s not an emergency just yet, but he really doesn’t think he can make it another two hours without some serious damage to his stage costume. But as tiring as these events can be, he doesn’t want to disappoint his fans, and he knows that making them wait while he goes to the bathroom would probably put them in a bad mood. So he resigns himself to his fate, crossing his legs once again as the next person in line is waved forward.

It feels like hours have gone by by the time the clock hits two, and yet Fukase can’t recall a single name he’d heard or a single thing he’d signed. At this point his focus is directed entirely to not leaking into his costume, and not dancing around wildly while he records his messages and takes photos with fans. He’s already gotten enough weird looks for taking too long to get to the photobooth and letting a few embarrassing sounds slip during conversation, and now that that last bottle of water has hit him, he can barely even tell what he’s saying to his fans anymore.

“Fukase-san?” the boy in front of him says, possibly for the second or third time. “Are you alright? You’re sweating.”

“S-Sorry,” Fukase replies shakily, wiping at his brow with an unsteady hand. “Hot in here. Uh, did you want to take a p-picture, too?”

“If you’re not feeling up to it, it’s alright,” the boy says sympathetically. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“He’s feeling fine,” Fukase’s manager speaks up with a wave of her hand. “I’ll have the staff bring the temperature down.”

“Wait-” Fukase starts, but his manager is already heading for the door in search of a building manager. Shit! he thinks to himself, his whole body tensed and trembling. How am I supposed to take a break now?

“It’s really alright, Fukase-san,” the boy says understandingly. “You don’t need to strain yourself.”

“It’s, ah, fine,” Fukase assures him. Sure, he feels like he’s going to explode any minute now, and the only thing he can think about is the hot, pulsing need to piss, but he wants to do this. The boy had an old copy of his first ever album--he’s a true fan, and he deserves to be treated well.

He manages to stand and hobble over to the photobooth, though he’s bent at an odd angle the whole time. The boy stands next to him, glancing over with worry a couple of times, but he seems happy enough to get his picture taken. “Thank you so much!” he says with a smile as the photographer hands his phone back.

“Of c-course,” Fukase says with a strained smile, returning to his seat as quickly as he can. The minutes in between photos where he gets to sit down are doing wonders to keep his pants dry, but every time he has to stand back up it feels like his desperation doubles. He’s never had to go this bad in his life, he’s sure of it. As soon as his manager gets back, he’s making a break for it, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to make it another five minutes in the state he’s in.

He’s about to call the next girl up, but she bounds up to his table without prompting. As soon as Fukase sees her his heart sinks into his stomach, dread overtaking him. He knows exactly what kind of fan this girl is, and he’s not ready to deal with it.

“Fukase-chan, I love you so much!” the girl exclaims, clapping her hands together excitedly. “OMG, I’m literally gonna die!”

“Please don’t,” Fukase says, his eyebrows drawing together in pain. He presses his thighs together and reaches under the table as subtly as he can, giving his dick a quick squeeze. (It barely helps at this point, but he has to do something to keep himself sane.)

“Can you write a special message on this?” the girl asks, setting down a large, glossy poster. “Write ‘Dear Hana, thank you for being the best fan in the world. Love, Fukase-chan’!”

Like hell I’m writing that! Fukase thinks, groaning in pain for more reasons than one. “Actually, we aaahh- aren’t doing special m-messages, ah, today,” he stammers. “Sorry.”

“Can’t you make an exception for me?” the girl asks, batting her eyelashes at him sweetly. “I paid a lot of money to be here, after all!”

“Fine,” Fukase snaps, feeling a bead of sweat drip down his forehead. He grabs a pen and uncaps it in a rush, scrawling the horrible, disgusting message across the bottom of the poster. It’ll be faster if you just go along, he thinks, still angry as he finishes writing. He stops short of calling himself “Fukase-chan”, though he’s almost distracted enough to write it.

“Eee!!” the girl squeals, jumping up and down. Fukase clenches his teeth, his hands fisted on top of the table as he shifts and shimmies his hips around the seat. God, he’s so close to giving up and bolting out of the room, though he’s not sure he’d even make it to the bathroom he’d seen earlier. No, he thinks, I have to make it! Just hold on a little bit longer, and then you’ll get your relief.

He feels a jet of pee shoot to the tip of his dick and gasps audibly as he slams his hands down on the table, crossing his legs and squeezing every muscle in his body to keep the piss from getting out. His face feels hot and damp, and his eyes are watering, and yet the girl in front of him is still painfully oblivious.

“Let’s take a picture, Fukase-chan!” she insists, grabbing one of his hands and pulling with all her might. Fukase gasps once again as he’s forced to his feet, his legs snapping together and bending at the knees as gravity pulls on his poor, overfilled bladder. No no no! he begs, hunching over and pressing his hand into his thigh, barely keeping himself from burying it in his crotch.

“Don’t be shy!” the girl insists, giving him another small tug. Fukase has no choice but to stumble after her as she drags him to the photobooth, physically shaking from the effort it’s taking to keep the ocean of piss from flooding his pants right then and there. He yanks his hand out of hers with a glare, though it’s weakened by his intense desperation.

“Ah, ah…” he pants as the girl hands her phone to the photographer. “Please, make it quick.”

“Oh, don’t worry, silly!” the girl exclaims, and to Fukase’s horror, she reaches out to wrap her arms around his middle and squeeze him tight.

The pressure against his bladder is absolute torture, an unbearable wave of desperation overtaking him as Hana squishes his abdomen. He lets out a strangled cry and breaks away from her hold, whipping around for some semblance of privacy and pawing desperately at his crotch until he gets a good hold of his dick. He squeezes his palm around the tip, but despite his iron grip, a long, hot spurt of piss dribbles out.

Fukase lets out a long, pained moan, stomping his feet on the ground and shaking his hips around as he tries to cut off the stream. It feels absolutely horrible to deny himself relief for a second longer, but he manages to stem the flow before it hits the floor.

“Fukase-chan, what’s wrong?” the girl asks, a hand reaching out to rub his back. Fukase jerks away from her touch, causing another spurt of piss to jet into his pants. His hands are covered in sticky, warm liquid, and he knows there’s a huge stain on his clothes, but he doesn’t even care anymore. All he cares about is getting to a bathroom asap, no matter what he has to do.

He breaks away from the girl, darting through the crowd with his hands buried between his legs, dribbles of piss escaping him every couple of steps. He hears gasps of shock and disgust all around him, but the crowd is too thick to tell where they’re coming from, and he doesn’t care either way.

He moves this way and that, trying his hardest to get to the main exit that leads to the hall with the bathrooms, but he’s not looking where he’s going, and before he knows it he’s running headfirst into a figure entering the room. Fukase stumbles backwards, the impact running through his whole body, just shocking enough to break his hold.

“Ah, ah! Ohhhh…” Fukase moans as warm, sticky urine floods his hands, running straight through his saturated pants and pattering onto the ground. His legs shake under him as he releases hours worth of piss, his head tipping back in pure and utter relief. It feels heavenly to let go after the stress of holding for so long, and yet he still feels the shame of wetting himself in front of his fans through it all…

Oh. Oh no.

Fukase’s eyes snap open, the sound of urine hitting urine deafening over the shocked silence of the crowd. His stomach sinks as he takes in the hundreds of pairs of eyes boring into him, but despite it all he can’t cut off his stream. No, he thinks, no no no! They can’t- I can’t- This can’t be happening!

At last, his stream tapers off, a few stray spurts fighting their way out before he’s finally empty. Every single person in the room is staring, and more than a few people have their phones out, recording the whole ordeal. He feels his face heat up in shame, and yet he’s completely frozen.

“Alright, clear the room,” his manager says, picking herself up from where he’d bumped into her on her way back. “Security, you’re on damage control. I need those videos deleted before they hit the internet. Fukase-san, let’s get you to the back room for some clean-up.”

Fukase snaps out of it, scurrying towards the back as fast as he can to avoid the eyes following him. His legs are cold and wet with aging piss, and he smells like a public restroom, and he’s sure that no matter what damage control security can do, the rumors will still spread like wildfire.

He covers his face with his piss-soaked hands and closes his eyes, hoping against hope that he’s just dreaming. But deep down, he knows that this is real, and that he’s never going to be able to live it down. This, he decides, angry tears springing to his eyes, was the worst meet and greet out of them all by far.

And that really is saying something.

#omorashi #male omorashi #male desperation #vocaloid omorashi #fukase omorashi #omocute #omorashi fanfic #op #fanfic #commissions

45 notes · View notes

hellshiremisfits · 4 years ago

Text

The Ballad of Sorrow Creek ~ Chapter 3

(Warnings: Drugs, Mention of drug abuse, Canon Typical violence, mild disassociation)

There are several ways to add insult to injury.

Having a bloody marshal waiting for one in one's room for no discernible reason is injury. The insult is having said marshal be the weird guy from church.

Caleb frowned, leaning against the door frame as the man rose from a chair by the window.

"You must have been having a busy morning, Mr. Quinn," the marshal greeted, and Caleb sneered.

"What d'ye want?"

"Talk."

"About?" Caleb asked, hand resting on his revolver. Something about this man was unsettling, and it wasn't just that he was a marshal.

"A friend asked me to warn you. He fears for your life." The marshal eyed the revolver wearily, before seeking Caleb's gaze. Caleb smirked.

"Y'know, you..."

"Wouldn't be the first marshal you've killed?" the marshal nodded. "I'm aware."

"Is that why yer here? Justice for a fallen brethren? He got in our way and..."

The man raised a hand. "Are you willing to hear me out?"

Another frown. Caleb still wasn't feeling too well, and now he was frankly getting annoyed. "Name a good reason."

The marshal eyed him for a moment as if waiting for something. Then he licked his lips in thought. "Henry Bayshore," he said dryly, and Caleb's hand was on his gun immediately.

He didn't get to shoot. He didn't even know if he'd drawn his revolver. Everything went black before that.

Caleb didn't know how much time had passed when he came to again. Only thing he was fairly certain of was that he was fucking angry. Correction: that was one of two things he was fairly certain of. The other was that he was neatly tied to his own bed.

"Sorry, Quinn," someone said. Miss Josie. She was sitting in the chair next to the bed, knitting as if all was normal. "I trust Marshal Jacobs 'ere wi' his message more than I trust ye wi' yer temper."

Caleb gave her a look of pure outrage at such betrayal, but Miss Josie just twirled a needle menacingly. "Now will ye 'ear the marshal out?" she asked cooly, watching Caleb struggle against his bonds.

With a growl that faded into a groan Caleb finally nodded, glaring over at the marshal. "Spit it out."

The marshal nodded, calmly rolling a cigarette. "My name is Dan Jacobs. I'm a US Marshal over in Lander County..."

"That's in Nevada, innit?" Caleb interrupted. "Yer quite some way from home, Marshal."

Marshal Jacobs nodded. "I got business in Lincoln. And about a week ago I received a message from a friend of mine. Ethan Murdock."

"Never heard that name," Caleb snarled.

"But he has heard of you, Mr. Quinn."

"He and dozens of others. What's yer point?"

"He's worried for your life, Mr. Quinn."

A long, annoyed growl followed, and Caleb rolled his eyes, tugging on the bounds again. "That's all nice an' fuckin' dandy, but..."

"Will you hear me out, Mr. Quinn?"

Caleb glared, but nodded. Miss Josie's needle twirling while her eyes were fixed on his crotch might or might not have had a part in that decision.

"Five years ago I met Ethan Murdock," Marshal Jacobs said. "Not on a friendly basis, though. He had broken into one of Bayshore's offices."

This got Caleb's eyes to sparkle. "I think I'm starting to like this Mr. Murdock." He grinned a toothy grin.

"Oh, you'd get along well. He's a reporter on his own terms, and after his arrest Ethan confidentially told me of evidence of severe foul-play in some of Bayshore's recent business activities. Ethan was determined to bring Bayshore down. I wrote it off as a mad whim, if not vile jealousy or plain slander, but then someone made an attempt on Ethan's life, and his rooms and office were ransacked."

Another nod, this one much more stoically. Caleb was listening intently.

"I don't think it will surprise you that these incidents destroyed the evidence Ethan had. Most of them; otherwise, I would not have believed him at all."

"Take it there wasn't enough left, however?"

The marshal shook his head. "The charges concerning the break-in were dropped. Much to Ethan's dismay, however."

"I get him. Bayshore's been up to something an' arranged for that," Caleb gave an angry twist to his mouth.

"Ethan thought so too. He was forced to keep things low-key from then on, and... and I think this will interest you most; he found out about the planned acquisition of Hellshire just a little too late to inform you. This is why Ethan's so eager to protect you, now that you are back."

Caleb simply groaned and rolled his eyes again. "So, what exactly does this Mr Murdock want to protect me from? Bayshore's dead."

"You've been informed his body was never recovered from Hellshire?" Marshal Jacobs gave Caleb a scrutinizing look. "You have. Look, Ethan thinks Bayshore's gone for good, and so do I. But he had children who are just as bad as he was. And Ethan suspects that Bayshore's successor will want to settle some things."

"Tsk," Caleb shook his head. "I appreciate the concern, but I can very well look after meself."

The marshal and Miss Josie exchanged meaningful glances, and Miss Josie looked coldly at Caleb.

"Tell me what time it is, Quinn."

"...what? Noon, or something..."

"It's quarter past midnight, Quinn," Miss Josie said, picking up a different ball of yarn.

"Quarter past... Oh fuck you." With an exhausted groan Caleb sank deeper into the pillows.

"Look, Quinn, we both know ye would have shot the marshal wi'out second thought. Can't have that, what wi' him bein' here to save yer arse. So when the lass told me ye was all dizzy an' dozy, I put a lil' somethin' in yer coffee. Would have put it in yer whiskey if not fer that."

"And threw out the whole bloody bottle afterwards?" Caleb quirked a brow.

"Desperate times, desperate measures, Quinn. Would have put it on yer tab."

"How are we friends again?" Caleb groaned, "Heh, didn't ya just say I'd have shot him without second thought? What would ya've done if I hadn't keeled over jus' in time?"

"Oh, there been 'nough in that coffee to knock a normal man out before he'd reach them stairs. So I figured ye'd be out cold around the time ye reach fer yer iron." Josie puffed her chest proudly. "An' I been standing behind ye, just in case."

She grinned and Caleb grimaced, muttering several curses. Then he glared at the marshal again. "So, what does this Murdock think will happen?"

"He suspects they'll put Kelly on your trail. He's still alive and still has his gang. And got quite a bone to pick with you."

"The feeling is mutual, y'know," Caleb squirmed a little. "Look, the warning is appreciated, but I can look after meself, unless someone turns out to be some backstabbin' old hen."

Miss Josie smiled cockily. "Can a lass quell yer wrath by cookin' yer favourite later?"

Caleb pondered this. "If ya swear it's not poisoned."

"Swear it on yer cock," Miss Josie singsonged, making Caleb avoid the marshal's surprised gaze, before clearing his throat.

"Aye, that will do." He looked back at the marshal. "Tell me, Marshal, yer a man of the law, what can ya tell me 'bout Kelly's whereabouts?"

Marshal Jacobs licked his lips. "I thought you'd never ask. Last time anyone heard from Mason Kelly and his gang was little more'n a month ago, at the border to California."

"Heh. If Kelly's got any bit o' sense in his head he made off to Canada or Mexico as soon as he heard I'm back."

Miss Josie smiled knowingly at Caleb. "So when do ye expect him to show his face in Glenvale?"

"'Bout next Thursday."

The marshal chuckled at that and rose. And then his face hardened. "Do be careful, Mr. Quinn. It's only our guess at what will be done, but Ethan and I, we're fairly certain that it will be done."

Caleb exhaled in defeat. "Tell Mr. Murdock I'll heed his warning."

A nod. "I will. Good Night, Mr. Quinn." Another nod, this time at Miss Josie. "Miss Josie."

Moments ticked past after the marshal left.

"So," Caleb drawled. "Are ya going to untie me now? Me shoulders are getting sore."

Miss Josie smiled, put her knitting to the side and leaned over to undo the knots. Caleb sat up slowly, rubbing his wrists.

"What, no quips 'bout 'enjoying the view a bit longer'?" he teased, but his face quickly fell upon seeing Miss Josie looking so distressed. "C'mon, Josie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"'Nothing' me fine Irish arse," he muttered. "The Josie McKee I know would've told anyone with such a yarn to go to Hell."

Miss Josie smiled a strained smile. "I almost did, Quinn. But..." She sighed.

"But?"

"Ye wanna know the truth? I'm worried fer ya." Miss Josie shook her head. "An' I don't mean in any 'Ye cannot watch yer own back all the time' thing." Slowly, and so carefully it made Caleb worry, Miss Josie sat down on the edge of the bed. "Listen, Quinn. Ye knows I come in here when ye sleep to see 'bout yer light," she nodded at the candle on the nightstand. "Ye almost burned down me establishment already."

Caleb blew a raspberry. "That was one time."

"Aye. But it's all I got. Me girls too."

"An' it's not even yours."

"Oh, tut." Miss Josie whacked her finger, "I'm keepin' an eye on it and I'm running it. At least till Newport shows his arse in Glenvale again, thank you very much."

This was greeted with an amused huff. "One of these days I'll figure where ya buried him."

"I didn't bury him." Miss Josie took a deep, sorrowful breath, and sought Caleb's eyes. "All joking aside, I'm really worried fer ya." She reached up to tug a strand of hair behind Caleb's ear, gently rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone. Caleb held his breath. There was maybe just one other thing Miss Josie could do to hammer home how dire she deemed the situation.

"Caleb." There it was. "Ye've been crying." Miss Josie shook her head. "I've never seen ye like that, but it scared me. An' ye wouldn't wake up when I tried. Are ye alright?"

Caleb squirmed a little, edging away from Josie. "Am fine," he mumbled. Miss Josie didn't buy it.

"Look at me," she said gently, caressing his cheek again. "I've known ye fer me whole life. I've seen yer best and worst. An' right now I see yer scared out o' yer wits."

Snapping his jaw back into place and biting his lip, Caleb looked away. He wasn't someone to let others on to what he was feeling (unless it was rage), but Miss Josie had always been one of the few people to see right through him. And she was right.

"How d'ya do that, Josie?" he murmured, still not looking at her.

"Known ye me whole life, just said so."

Caleb smiled halfheartedly. "Nightmares, that's all..." Again, Josie didn't buy it. For a moment, Caleb tried to stare her down, without any success. He sighed, looking away. "Ya know them nightmares where ya get so scared ya wake up cryin' only to realize how fuckin' silly yer brain's being? This wasn't one o' those."

Miss Josie shuffled a little closer, laying a gentle hand on his thigh.

"'Twas...," Caleb continued, struggling with finding the right words. "''Twas like I was remembering things, but that don't make sense."

"If ye want to talk 'bout it, I'm here."

Slowly, Caleb let himself fall back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling for a while.

"I was in this... something. Looked Japanese... And there was this lass. Black, weird clothing, like she was runnin' round in her bloomers..." Caleb ran a hand through his hair. "She was scared of me. And... I dunno, I think I tried to tell her I knows who she is. No... I did tell her. But... it was to calm her down, not to... She was so scared. And then there was this... thing...," he wriggled his fingers, "Like some fucking spider the size o' a house. An' it was angry. Like furious. At me. For... I think not killing that woman. I told it to go fuck itself, an'... how I knew what it did to me?"

Miss Josie gave his leg a gentle squeeze.

"Don't make much sense, does it?" Caleb said, forlorn. "But I feel like it happened. And then... something grabbed me, choked me, an'... things crawled under me clothes and...skin... and..." he absentmindedly reached into his shirt, tracing fingers over the new scars. "Then something went right through me chest... this thing's claw or somethin'. An' I knew I was in for something worse than death... but..."

"But?"

"Then this girl picked up me gun... Ya could see she never even held one... I think she wanted to help..."

"What happened?"

Caleb smiled wryly. "Put the spear right through me heart, she did." He patted his chest. "Last thing I heard was her shouting she's sorry, and there was this screech of betrayal and... I just wanted to be back home..."

Caleb bit back a sob, rubbing his arm over his eyes. Miss Josie gently pulled him into a hug and caressed his back while he buried his face against her neck. They sat like that for a while, until Caleb pulled back, taking a ragged, heavy breath.

"Look at me, soakin' yer dress crying me bloody eyes out. What would people think o' me?"

"That ye'd shoot their guts out if they go makin' a funny comment 'bout it."

Caleb gave a sniffling laugh, rubbing his eyes again.

"Prolly would. But... I'm not jokin'. That shite was fuckin' frightening." He pulled up his good leg, resting his head on the knee. "Josie?"

"Hmm?"

"D'ye think that's what happened when I was gone?"

"It doesn't sound real, does it?"

"...No... but..."

"Hey," Josie reached up to Caleb's cheek again, lifting his head to look at her. "All I know is ye was gone fer two years as if the earth opened up and swallowed ye whole. And then ye showed up just as suddenly. I think a lotta things are possible here."

Caleb nodded quietly, falling back into the pillows.

"Will ye let that keep ye down?" Josie smirked and got up.

"Heh, naw. It came fuckin' close, though." Caleb smiled softly, scratching his chest. "I'll need some time to wrap me head 'round it."

Josie nodded gently. "I think ye should try an' rest proper."

Caleb nodded back. "Guess so..." Then he remembered something. "Did any messages come in while I was out?"

"Oh. Aye." Josie took a small envelope from the nightstand and handed it over. "Aaron brought in a telegram fer ye."

With a suspicious glare Caleb inspected the envelope. Good, at least he could still trust Josie not to read his things. He tore the message open, reading.

"Well then," he finally murmured, scratching his head.

"Somethin' amiss, Quinn?"

Caleb looked up. "Nothin'. Just asked an old acquaintance for advice on something."

"Anything I should be worried 'bout?"

"Naw. But I'll be headin' to Omaha in a couple o' days. He wants t' meet with me."

"Yer back to yer ol' tricks, ain't ye?"

Caleb smirked wickedly. "Ya know best it's a good idea t' keep me busy."

Josie smiled back, nudged his shoulder and bid him goodnight.

Caleb turned the message over in his hands, pondering. To say that there was a lot on his mind was putting things mildly. He had planned to not tell anyone about that nightmare, but all things considered he felt... relieved? That Josie had known something was wrong. He knew he would have despised anyone else seeing him cry. But God knows it did frighten him, as nonsensical as that dream had been.

Nevertheless, his hand wandered under his shirt again, tracing the scars. It was impossible to have happened, wasn't it? He'd remember more of... anything that happened in the past two years if that had been the case, right?

He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the far corner, half expecting this thing from his nightmare to manifest from the shadows. It wasn't the relief he might have hoped for when it didn't.

All things considered, he'd have to wait and see about this matter. He focused on the message in his hand again.

Blayne wrote he'd meet Caleb in Omaha to tell him about this Mr. Wallace. And Caleb wondered if he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew.

Downstairs, the saloon was packed.

Miss Josie stood on the gallery, surveying the crowd below as per usual. She always had good judgment when it came to people, and at this hour of the night, being able to pick out the troublemakers was essential.

And tonight there were a few new faces she couldn't say she liked. Something about them set her on edge.

There was this guy in the dark poncho by the piano who tried a little too hard not to let anyone notice that his eyes were continuously flicking over the doors upstairs. And it wasn't 'cause he was deciding whether or not to get it on with one of the girls; Josie was certain about that.

Josie also felt someone's eyes on her the whole time she was in the main room, but couldn't spot the person looking at her. Which was worrisome.

"What's eating ya, Miss Josie?" someone asked next to her, and Miss Josie turned.

"Hey, Charlie. Funny seein' ye here."

"Wanna keep the one eye I got on Quinn, y'know," Charlie grinned, flipping a finger against his eye-patch after adjusting his clothes proper.

"Ye been in the wrong room fer that," Miss Josie grinned. "He's well. Hopefully sleepin' now."

Charlie nodded. "He's got that creepy aura 'round him since he's back."

Josie nodded. Charlie was one of those 'spiritualists', and sometimes he said things that made Miss Josie wonder if he wasn't on to something with all that.

"Don't he always have a 'creepy aura' 'round him?" Miss Josie quipped, and Charlie smiled.

"That's on account o' the things he does. No, I mean... he's got the devil on his back more than ever, it feels like."

"Yer gonna put down yer tarot cards fer him?"

"Not without his permission. Y'know it won't work well if he's not alright with it." Charlie gave Miss Josie a scrutinizing glance.

"What?"

"You're really worried 'bout something, Miss Josie."

Josie just wrinkled her nose. "Oh, take an inspired guess. Yer right, something's off with Quinn. But does that surprise ye? He's been gone fer two bloody years, an' now he shows up an' has no mem'ries of it whatsoever."

A nod. "Y'know how some folks say he jus' buggered off to New York or San Francisco for morphine or opium or something? Wonder what they'd be sayin' now."

"You go and ask 'em, Charlie; ye shoot three of 'em."

"Eh, don't think they'll be talkin' to me after that..."

Josie chuckled, and turned her attention to the crowd below again.

"Charlie?" she hushed.

"Hmm?"

"I need ye to keep yer eye on that bloke in the dark poncho by the piano."

"What he do?"

Josie explained, and Charlie furrowed his brows.

"Think he's after Quinn?"

"Would it surprise ye?" Josie drummed her fingers on the banister. "How many people got a bone t'pick with'im?"

"Enough to empty a fuckin' graveyard. Alright, I'll stay on his heels."

Nodding in thanks, Josie headed down to the bar. The night was still young.

Upstairs, Caleb tossed and turned in his bed, trying to get comfortable in at least the slightest bit and failing miserably. Maybe it was remembering that nightmare and trying to make sense of it; maybe it was something different, but something had set him on edge. Rather groggily he hobbled out of bed, checked the door and the windows, and finally reached for his revolver. Still loaded, all good to go.

With the weapon placed on the nightstand, Caleb laid back down, blowing out the candles. He had to focus on something else. Anything. His mind was a mess, and whatever Josie had put in his coffee still lingered in his system.

Yet he tried in vain. There wasn't much to think about when it came to this Mr. Wallace. He could always ask at the Post Office; maybe he should have done that to begin with. Did they have a marshal in Glenvale again? He had somehow managed not to check for it this entire time. If they had, maybe he could ask there, too, before heading to Omaha.

Though, maybe he shouldn't do any of that. Emmett Blayne wasn't a man of many words, and when someone like that asks you to meet him to discuss a matter, something's deeply amiss.

The other problem was Marshal Jacobs' warning, though that was the smaller one. If someone wanted to pick a bone with him, Caleb would be ready. Bayshore and his ilk weren't as clever as they thought, so there was a likely advantage. At least that problem was going somewhere.

With an annoyed grunt, Caleb turned over again, wincing briefly as pain shot up his leg. He's really ought to stop it with the sudden movements in bed. He grunted again and closed his eyes, nagging himself to get some sleep.

That was when he felt the cold breeze against his cheek and heard a window rattle.

His eyes shot open and he found himself outside an odd building, snow falling around him.

Caleb blinked, once, twice, before rubbing his eyes. He looked down at himself. He was fully dressed, his overcoat heavy with snow and the Redeemer in his hands. This was a dream, wasn't it? Sure, he could feel the breeze against his skin and the cold biting into his lungs with every breath, but ... This had to be a dream. Well, at least he had fallen asleep.

He looked around. And his brows furrowed.

He was standing at the open doors to a building unlike any he had ever seen before. Next to him stood some massive metal boxes he figured were meant for trash, at least if he interpreted the odd bags next to them correctly. Something in him wanted to investigate the material, but something else, something stronger, urged him on to do what he came here for.

No. Not 'came' here for. Was brought here for.

He stepped into the building, an unreal, flickering light illuminating narrow, tiled corridors, crammed with unadorned beds and wheelchairs. Was this some odd kind of hospital? He bent down to pick up something from the ground. A folder. Seems his hunch was right, this was a hospital, but...

His eyes fell on the date in the files. That couldn't be right...

Something made a bang down the corridor to the left, and he dropped the file, turning, half-curious as to what had caused that sound, half... taken over by an odd hunting instinct he'd never felt before when tracking down a mark. That had always just been business. This was like… a need.

Windows rattled in the cold air as he hobbled steadily along the empty halls; broken, loose tiles clicking under his boots. There was no one in sight as he came to stop at an odd contraption, an engine of sorts. Caleb wanted to reach out to touch it; to inspect it, but it was like his hands were glued to his gun.

Then he caught a movement from the corner of his eyes. So there was someone here, trying haphazardly to hide themself behind the dirty bed in the corner. Caleb wanted to prompt the person to come out, but his tongue disobeyed him. Instead, he stepped forward, eager to bring whoever was there to the ground.

A part of himself wondered why.

He lunged forward, taking the young man in hiding by surprise and slashing at his side with the gun's bayonet. The young man gasped out in pain, stumbling forward.

Caleb blinked, shocked. The guy couldn't be older than thirty, and by all means—as outlandish as his clothes looked—he was some sort of bank or post office clerk or something, maybe an accountant. Not really the kind of guy to have a bounty on his head.

What was going on?

The man took off.

Something urged Caleb on to give chase, and his feet seemed to move on their own, heading after the young man. Fingers twitching, Caleb raised his gun, and wanted to slap himself for it. There was no clear shot to be made here, and what had that guy done to begin with? Something told Caleb he had to hunt and... sacrifice the... meat...?

Caleb hesitated.

What sort of fuckin' shite was that?

He shook his head and, with all the willpower he could muster, lowered the gun just as the young man ducked into a doorway. Something roared in Caleb's ears, something angry.

And then there was another sound. A horn of some sort, and the roar grew angrier. Again his feet moved on their own, and he turned a corner. There was someone in front of him, and the sign made Caleb as angry as the roar in his ears did.

Bayshore.

No. Wait.

That was impossible, he told himself. And blinked. Bayshore's form shifted, flickered, and changed into a young woman, a really nice-looking one at that, with bare, tattooed arms and wearing next to nothing. Still the voice in Caleb's head tried to tell him that that was Bayshore.

What the fuck was going on?

Caleb edged closer to her, his hands raising his weapon on their own again. He tried to fight it; he wanted answers, not blood. The woman just stood and stared at him until he was maybe one or two steps away. Then she grabbed at something leaning against the wall, pulling it down, and Caleb felt a hard hit against his head.

He staggered and saw the woman run the other way through blurred vision. Some kind of alarm rang out, and he tried to steady himself, looking around, when he felt four sharp stings in his neck. He lost balance again and sank to his knees.

He couldn't breath.

The gun dropped from his hands, and he dug his fingers into his throat as if trying to pry something out of it.

Something was choking him.

He coughed, tried to cry out; but only a rasping gasp escaped his mouth. And then the lights around him grew darker.

For a moment he was certain he was losing consciousness, but the angry roar in his head made him realize that couldn't be the case.

This something was angry. Disappointed in him; in his performance. Dismayed at his disobedience. Displeased with his failure.

A dark, heavy fog rolled in, surrounding Caleb, engulfing him.

...No...

And the world around him twisted; the shadows grew, spider-like tendrils bearing down on him, intent on tearing him apart and worse...

He woke with a choked gasp.

Rain drummed against the windows, running down the glass in thick drops, and Caleb laid on the floor, wrapped in his blanket with a horrible pain in his head. Sitting up carefully, he reached for his forehead, and hissed in pain as his fingers touched a bloody spot. The blood on the nightstand explained the rest.

That was going to be a headache for a while.

Caleb gave himself a quick check to see if the wound was worse than it looked, and finding that he was otherwise fine—no cuts or anything on his throat—he pulled himself onto the bed again. He'd still have the doc take a look at his head. Better safe than sorry.

He waited for a moment to see if anyone would come to check on him, and let out a soft sigh when that wasn't the case. 'Twas likely too early in the morning. The rain made it impossible to tell, and Caleb had forgotten to wind up his pocketwatch the night before.

With another sigh, he slowly laid back down.

He'd had a lot of weird dreams in the past, but this one... Something about it... scared him. The place; the people; the pain... and again... that ungodly, otherworldly spider thing.

#the ballad of sorrow creek #seán's shenanigans

1 note · View note