#we saw so much more of her...i hesitate to say warmer or softer side but | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blackmaylovesfries · 4 years ago

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‘95line - No one is alone anymore

Words: 1731

Sinopse: Seventeen Hybrid AU - Because Seungcheol passed so much time far from civilization, he was bound to be sick at some point. Fortunately, now he had you and two cat hybrids that wouldn’t let him heal alone.

Notices: Mention of sickness. Not so good English. I’m BAAAACK!! Read the end, please!

Solo stories’ destiny // Buy me a Coffee

Masterpost

INTRODUCTION / Next

Seungcheol was feeling his nose a little congested. His head was a little light and his body seemed a little heavy. He didn’t think much about it and got up to help with the morning routine of the big house. He woke up before his roommates, used the bathroom and soon was downstairs with some of the younger hybrids that would go to the center with you that day.

After a month with all 13 of them plus you living together, everyone was pretty used to some sort of routine. They would take turns of who was going with you to the center during the day and who would stay to take care of the house. On your free days, you all would just lazy around the house, which means a lot of cuddles and fights.

That day, Sheungcheol wasn’t scheduled to go to the center but he still got up early to help the ones who would go. You were finishing your breakfast when he arrived at the kitchen, all the other boys were searching for their things and preparing to leave. He smiled at you but something felt off about it… His face was a little red, actually, really red, like he was super hot at the moment.

“Coups?” The nickname was given by Hoshi, on the first day the bear hybrid went with him to the center. “Are you feeling okay?” You got up from the chair, still with a toast in one hand, and got closer to him. You acted before he answered and put your hand on his forehead. “Oh, heavens! You’re burning, Cheol!”

---

Jeonghan and Joshua took their time to wake up. They had a lazy day as they liked to call the days at home, so no need to wake up super early or anything like that. The feline hybrids were almost ready to start the day when Jun invaded the room.

“Good morning to you too, Junhui.” Jeonghan’s voice wasn’t acid as it was when he first arrived but it wasn’t all that comfortable. “What’s the rush?” Although the older feline wanted to tease the younger, as soon as he saw Jun catching Cheol’s blanket and his neatly folded pajamas, both lazy hybrids became alert.

“Y/n asked me to grab Coups-hyung’s things, it seems that he’s not feeling good today.” The younger one paused just to say that and went running down the stairs again. Frowning, the 95’twins quickly followed. They arrived at the living room on the first floor at the same time a car could be heard near the entrance of the house.

“Vernon, get Moonbyul here asap. Seungkwan, make sure he changes and stays seated. Jun, get those two off the kitchen and calm them down, we don’t need more noise. Woozi, please, get everyone that should be ready to leave today, I want them ready to go with Moon when she’s done here.”

The hybrids named by the tiny human soon were in movement. The 96’line that were called moved as they were used to the military tone on the girl’s voice, while the 98’ just hesitated for a second before running to do what she said. Joshua and Jeonghan were momentarily lost but the girl didn’t give them time to daze.

“Sorry, guys, did Jun wake you two up?” Her tone was warmer and softer while looking at them. After the duo denied with their heads, she explained the situation. “Coups seems to have caught a cold. He’s burning up so I called a doctor from the center to do a check up on him. I’ll have to ask you guys to have patience today, okay?”

“Sure, sure…” Joshua’s voice was small as he examined the roommate changing shirts near the huge sofa. “We… Is there anything we can do to help him?” Both felines were fronwing a little. The girl smiled and responded with a sweet voice.

“Let’s wait for the doctor’s verdict.”

---

Moonbyul was fast to exame Seungcheol. It was a reaction resulting from the change of environment… Well, you couldn’t say that it surprised you but it sure did to the boys. To provide a good rest to the oldest, you decided to send everyone to the center with Moonbyul, having her promise to come back at night to both bring them back and check Cheol’s condition.

Joshua and Jeonghan insisted on staying with you to take care of the oldest. You could see that they were really worried and didn’t refute them. You and the two healthy hybrids made Seungcheol lay at his bed and the hybrids decided to cook some porridge for him. You laughed discreetly and showed them where the recipes were.

“Okay, how about I tell you a story now? To help you sleep?” You smiled as you changed the wet towel from Cheol’s forehead. The hybrid had been complaining about disrupting everyone’s routine since the doctor said it was better for the others not to have too much contact with him until he’s feeling a little better.

“I’m fine, (Y/n). You don’t need to watch over me, I’ll be okay. You can do your job, I know you have a lot of work even not going to the center… I’m sorry…” His voice was raspy and your heart ached for him. You reached your hand and brushed his hair back.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Coups. When I took you in, we had an agreement that I would take care of you and you of me until the end.” You smiled as your hand caressed his hair. “You know? My mother used to sing to me when I was sick… After she passed, my father didn’t know how to sing so he started to tell me stories about his missions, sugarcoating it, of course, so I could sleep.”

“You… I’m sorry, (Y/n)...” You let out a laugh.

“Don’t worry. After he also passed, JayB and the others took good care of me. Their storytelling skills aren’t that good, the singing is amazing though. Also, I’m not sad about it anymore.” You stopped to think. “Hm… How about I tell you the time me and the team went to our first mission in Japan?”

As you noticed that the bear hybrid had already gone to the dream realm, you got up and left the room. You went directly to the kitchen, where the other two were and hadn’t come out for a long time. When you got there, the scene you saw made you laugh, but just a little so you didn’t scare them back to their combative shell.

“What are you two doing?” Your voice made both felines who were staring at the stove turn their eyes to you. There was no action happening in the kitchen, no ingredients nor anything that indicate that they were cooking. Looking embarrassed for a change, Joshua nugged at Jeonghan, indicating you with his head. The other sighed.

“We were never allowed to cook before… We don’t know how to do it.” His voice was low, almost as he was reluctant to tell you about this. As it was a weakness.

“Oh, you guys should have told me ealy. I’ll teach you. A simple porridge even I can do it.” You smiled as you started to take things out to do the meal. “Come, let’s do it together, Cheol’ll be really happy when he sees it.” You turned to the boys and shove a pan in their hands.

“You’re doing it differently from the recipe.” Joshua approached you at the stove and looked between what you’re cooking and the book in his hand. You laughed.

“I’m doing my father’s recipe. He would do it all the time when our hybrids got sick. We would do it together every single time while they lived with us.” You paused a little. “You know how to read?”

“Well, that was rude.” Jeonghan commented from his seat at the counter.

“No, that’s not what I mean…”

“Don’t worry, I’m not offended.” Joshua made a hand gesture. “I learned with the older hybrids… The owner doesn't know. Anyway, where did the hybrids go then? And your father?”

“Oh, we had three or four living with us at the moment. My father went on a mission and it didn’t go well, you can imagine what happened. I was 16, almost 17 at the time. Whatever, when my father passed, the hybrids at home asked to be transferred to centers and protected villages since they didn’t want to stay at this house without my parents anymore.”

“And they just abandoned you like this?” Jeonghan was frowning.

“They couldn’t help, could they? When a hybrid bonds with a human like that, they can’t forget the link even after the human died… I couldn’t force them to stay and make them suffer just so I could not be alone, right?” You smiled at him. “I was already almost an adult, there was no need to cry over loneliness. It doesn’t matter anymore, both parts are happy enough now.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t matter anymore because we’re here now and you’re not alone in this big house.” The matter of fact tone on Jeonghan’s voice made you freeze for a moment before letting out a laugh.

“Hm, that sounds just right.” Joshua nodded.

---

When Seungcheol woke up again, his head and nose were feeling much better, just as his fever seemed to have decreased. But… For some strange reason… His arms seemed to be heavier than the rest of his body. He then opened his eyes and saw his two roommates… Laying on his arms, one in each side.

“They were waiting for you to wake up and taste the porridge we made together for you.” A girl was near the door, with a huge plate on her hands. She smiled as she tip-toed inside the room and to the table in front of his bed.

“It seems that I took too long to wake… I’m sor…”

“You really should stop saying sorry, Cheol, you’re almost worse than Mingyu sometimes.” The bear hybrid wanted to refute or say something but before he could, the front door was opened with such a force that you two could hear from the room. Soon shouts calling you and Coups disturbed the two sleeping hybrids. You smiled. “We’re not alone, Coups, not anymore.”

Hello everyone! How are you?? I hope everyone is okay and healthy!

First of all I would like to say thank you for sticking with me and my story! I hope you all like the directio I’m taking and I promise to not stop posting anymore. The schedule for this story will be twice a week starting today. Again, thank you so much for not giving up on me!

Tag: @mimisxs ; @moonmin-miya ; @naminalati ; @woohoney ; @littleheartsays ; @amber-thumbs ; @skylions-den ; @snowballbear ; @restless_nights_thoughts - I tried to tag everyone, but there are two that didn’t work, sorry!!

#Seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen hybrid au #kpop #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop hybrid au #hybrid au #imagine #seventeen 95'line #95'line

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realllllfangirllllll · 4 years ago

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Beyond Lovers || Chp. 31

{More Than Friends Sequel}

Chairman!Jaehyun AU x CEO!Reader AU

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the former CEO after overcoming your fear of love. Although there were rough patches, both of you are now stronger than ever. However, you realize that maintaining a relationship and a company at the same time can be very difficult, especially if someone is out to destroy the both of you.

(Context: This scene takes place in the time frame of the last three chapters of MTF)

Masterlist

{Previous / Next }

4 months ago...

“Come meet me in Paris. I’ll send you the address.”

Jaehyun’s mind spun like lab rats on a hamster wheel as he contemplated the idea of meeting face to face with Xiaojun. He had set his mind on getting y/n back and he couldn’t act scared now. He needed her in his life and this was his only chance.

~~~

The bright sun was hanging low in the clear sky as Jaehyun let out a yawn. Although jet-lagged and stressed, the thought of being on the same grounds as y/n made him feel a bit better. After all, it seemed like he hasn’t seen her for years. He chuckled to himself upon the realization of how much y/n’s presence affected him.

He stepped into the luxurious hotel lobby and made his way to the glass elevators before he quickly pressed the button to floor six. When the room door opened, he found himself sitting on the lonely chair placed across from the lush couch with his heart beating nervously. Never had he been more nervous for a meeting, in fact, he usually wasn’t the type of person to get nervous at all. He guessed that y/n and Xiaojun were definitely of blood relation as they were the only two people to ever make him feel even slightly nervous.

His hands were clasped politely in front of his lap as he tried his best to sit as straight as possible. On the other hand, Xiaojun sat comfortably yet arrogantly on the couch with his legs crossed. His stern, sharp gaze examined Jaehyun from his neatly gelled hair, his casual yet sleek navy dress shirt, to his expensive leather shoes. Jaehyun didn’t move an inch and allowed Xiaojun to take in whatever he wanted to see. He dressed casually but neat with the intent of giving off a good, first in-person impression. He didn’t want Xiaojun to think of him as an egotistic rich boy but a hardworking and polite man that is sincere to y/n.

Xiaojun suddenly let out a chilling laugh that did nothing to clear the tension in the room. “You don’t have to act so stiff, treat me comfortably.”

Jaehyun nervously chuckled as Xiaojun broke out an eerie smile and offered, “You must be exhausted from that flight. Want something to drink?”

Jaehyun looked at him and saw that his eyes held a stonecold stare that shouted ‘refuse if you dare.’ He quickly responded with a yes and Xiaojun’s eerie smile returned. As if he prepared for this scenario, his hands grabbed the bottle of liquor on the marble coffee table and filled the two empty glasses by its side. He set the bottle aside and asked as he quirked his eyebrow, “You do drink whiskey, do you?”

Jaehyun responded with a quick, “yes sir,” and Xiaojun chuckled, “No need to be so formal with me. You are about the same age as me after all.”

Jaehyun almost choked on his drink at his words and stuttered, “Y-yes if that’s what you want.” Hesitantly, he continued, “By the way...How do you know my age?”

Xiaojun chugged his drink and rather loudly before he bluntly told him that he had searched him up online, read articles about him, and even had some intel from someone on the inside. Jaehyun’s eyes widened at his last statement. He wasn’t new to this sort of investigation as he had done so himself around people he found suspicious, especially with Jaemin. But he was surprised, yet amused, that Xiaojun was that kind of person as well.

He cleared his glass of whiskey and set it down on the table. “You seem to be a very reliable person.”

Xiaojun gave him a questioning stare as he waited for him to elaborate on his words. Jaehyun chuckled, suddenly feeling more comfortable around the man in front of him and slightly loosened his stiff body. “It’s only right to keep an eye out on suspicious people. I would.”

At his elaboration, Xiaojun’s expression seemed to change into one with slightly more approval. His cold stare shifted to a warmer gaze as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes first looked down at his interlocked fingers and then seriously up at Jaehyun. “What is your endgame with my baby sister?”

Jaehyun sat up straighter again and responded with slight confusion in his tone, “Endgame? I don’t have one. My love for your sister isn’t a game.”

Xiaojun smirked and asked, “Then what is it?”

Jaehyun never broke eye contact with the man in front of him and said sincerely, “To me, loving y/n is like living in a warm home. I only want to make her feel happy and comfortable like how she makes me feel. I want her to feel what being loved means.”

He hoped that wasn’t too blunt and stopped himself before he could say anything more, but Xiaojun chuckled. This time, he didn’t have an eerie smile but a genuine one. He poured the both of them more whiskey and said in a gentler yet firm tone, “You’re the first, you know.”

“The first what?” Jaehyun said a little softer, scared that that statement might hold a negative connotation.

Xiaojun peered down at his glass of whiskey, slightly moving the cup in a circular motion before setting it down without taking a sip. “Guess I don’t need this whiskey anymore.”

He looked up and saw Jaehyun’s puzzled look. “You are much more innocent than I thought,” he laughed. He sat straighter, breaking from his previous position and told Jaehyun nonchalantly, “You are actually the first to tell me something worth my time. You see...most guys that previously held y/n’s interest will walk into my door and say some bullshit. I’ve heard countless fuckers say they date my sister because she will make a great couple with them, she will light up their day, or some equivalent shit.” His eyes hardened and stared straight into Jaehyun’s. “I don’t want to hear that. Ever.” Jaehyun unconsciously gulped and Xiaojun chuckled, “But you on the other hand. You are different. While others think about themselves, you think about y/n.”

Jaehyun felt relieved but not a second later, Xiaojun gave him the same cold stare again. “But y/n means the world to me. She’s my only family and the only person I will sell my soul to protect. You got that?” Jaehyun quickly nodded in response and Xiaojun’s tone softened again. “I don’t know how far you are in this relationship, but you must know that y/n didn’t have parents growing up as they abandoned us quite harshly.” He glanced at Jaehyun’s expression and figured he knew what he was referring to. “So you do know. Well then your relationship must have been going on for quite a while…”

“Not really,” Jaehyun replied a bit hesitant.

Xiaojun quirked his eyebrow, “How long then?”

“Technically...only a few months,” Jaehyun rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of whether he should give him all the details of their complicated relationship, “But we’ve kind of been circling around the first month…”

“Circling around?” Jaehyun gulped, afraid this would give him some negative points on his approval but Xiaojun stared intently at him and suddenly burst out laughing. He knew that his younger sister was never the one to wait for initiation. She wasn’t careful with things she didn’t care for. All her previous relationships started fairly quickly. But when y/n really liked something, she would wait, go through a ton of inner debation, and finally come up with a decision. Xiaojun knew that because she does the same with photography. She never rushes the process and would take her time finding the right angle, the right natural lighting, and the right model. She would often tell Xiaojun, “Precious moments are to be dealt with carefully because they are especially fragile.”

Now that Jaehyun confessed the upbringing of their relationship, albeit vague, he realized just how much y/n valued this man that sat nervously in front of him. He muttered to himself both out of amusement and astonishment, “Wow y/n...So he’s the one huh?”

He stopped laughing and stared seriously at Jaehyun again, “Listen up lover boy. The reason I told you to come here was to either show you that you are not worthy of my precious sister or to beat you to a pulp if you didn’t listen like some arrogant douches I’ve encountered in her past relationships.” Unknowingly, Jaehyun chuckled at his last statement and Xiaojun’s ears perked, “Did you just laugh?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened upon the realization of what he just did and immediately corrected himself, “No no, I didn’t mean it in that way.” He scratched the back of his neck again and continued, “I actually just,” he paused and let out a light chuckle, “I just relate to that as well.”

Xiaojun was caught off guard as he blinked in disbelief at the man’s reaction, “You what?”

A sense of respect coated Jaehyun’s tone as he clarified, “Some people call it reckless, some people call it crazy. But in the line of business I work in, those hypocritical people only fear those with the power of the fist and intimidation.” He let out a bitter chuckle and told Xiaojun, “With y/n around, especially, I just feel the need to make sure she doesn’t get hurt by ignorant people.”

Xiaojun smirked, “You’re not half as bad as I thought Jaehyun.” He smiled and continued, “Anyways, y/n may be my baby sister but ever since we were little all she has done was make sure I was happy. She took care of me more than I did with her. She supported and helped me with my Youtube career and tagged along without any complaints. And because of that, she never really had a stable place to call her home. I’m glad she was able to open up to you. She usually never tells someone about her parents until at least a year into the relationship. It shows she really is comfortable around you. And judging from the way you react to my words and actions, it seems I don’t need to play the role of a protector for her anymore. You seem to suit the role.”

Before Jaehyun could respond Xiaojun immediately cut him off, “But one more thing. As a Youtuber, I know the public forum can be harsh and the spotlight will never be easy. For that, I know the situation at the Starship Charity Ball was not entirely your fault,” His cold stare came back as he stared seriously at Jaehyun, “But don’t you ever dare forget this. When you walk out this door and go to y/n, you will do everything in your power to help and protect her. It might not be entirely your fault, but it was because of you that y/n is now in the spotlight.”

Jaehyun replied in agreement almost immediately and Xiaojun continued, “Take the consequences and make the best of it.” He narrowed his eyes and made sure Jaehyun understood his commands. “But don’t you ever let y/n get hurt by it.” He continued and emphasized his last point in a much deeper and darker tone, “You hurt my only family and I will show you no mercy. However hurt y/n becomes, I will give that back to you threefold, understood?”

“Of course! I will always be by her to protect her. No matter who or what gets in the way,” Jaehyun replied quickly and genuinely.

Xiaojun shut his eyes for a moment and nodded, content with his response and overall behavior.

“Effiel Tower,” he opened his eyes again and looked at Jaehyun with a soft and somewhat hopeful gaze, “She should be somewhere around the Effiel Tower right now.”

Jaehyun immediately popped up from his seat, ready to meet his love again. Before he twisted the doorknob of the hotel room, he turned around and told Xiaojun with the utmost respect, “I will treat her like my own family, I promise.”

Xiaojun chuckled and leaned against the soft pillows on the couch, “You better lover boy, my fists are ready to fight any time of the day.”

———

• Dropping a post early since I’ll be off to celebrate my bday!! •

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stillebesat · 5 years ago

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Scales (5/7)

Sanders Sides: Logan, Deceit, Virgil, Roman, Patton Blurb: Deceit hadn’t expected his absence from the Mindscape to be noticed by the others…until Logic knocked on his door. Fic Type: General Warnings: Shedding (snake style), Minor Injuries, Minor Pain, Touch Starvation, Death Talk Taglist in Reblog.

To Catch Up: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

His scales?

But...but HOW?!

Deceit shot to his feet before Logan could stop him, growling under his breath as his vision briefly blurred, but he couldn’t just sit still for this! “That’s impossible. HOW?!” He stumbled away from the others as Logic reached for him, instead heading to the window, wishing the sun was up so he could at least feel its heat through the glass.

“Kiddo,” Patton had also moved to his feet, hands outstretched. “Perhaps you should sit back dow--”

“But it doesn’t make sense! Nothing’s changed!” Deceit ignored Morality’s advice, continuing to shakily pace the floor. “My scales have never changed like that before! They should still be snake scales! They’ve always been--”

He flinched at the electric touch lightly wrapping around his left wrist, forcing him to stop before he antagonized the scales there. He jerked his head up, wobbling as he struggled to breathe, his human eye focusing on Anxiety.

“It’s obvious what’s going on isn’t it?” Virgil said, the shadows under his eyes pitch black. “It’s because you’ve been--”

Deceit hissed, going stiff. “Don’t you dare say accepted.” Just because they considered him to be Fa--Family didn’t mean that--that Thomas--He was a DARK SIDE for crying out loud! A BAD GUY. You don’t get accepted for being that after a simple name reveal!

...Right?

Virgil huffed, letting go. “When did you last shed? Before or after you told us we could call you Lyal?”

Deceit gritted his teeth lightly brushing his wrist to ensure the shed there was alright. It wasn’t like he could lie though, Logan already knew the answer. “...Before.”

“And what changed afterwards?” Roman asked, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes nearly glowing like they did whenever his Creativity was sparked.

Deceit looked away. “You...invited me--”

“To dinner!” Patton said, clapping his hands together. “We started including you more.”

“And you said yourself that you experience changes in your shed when Thomas is experiencing a period of growth himself and we are all a part of Thomas are we not?” Logan asked, resting a hand on Deceit’s non-scaled shoulder. “Ergo, Thomas is growing to accept you because we are including you. It is a major change, Lyal.”

“But...dragon scales?” He whispered, allowing his shaky legs to collapse him to the floor. He half curled in a ball as Logan knelt with him. “I--I---” It was too much. It couldn’t---he couldn’t!

“They’re not all bad you know. I mean…It probably doesn’t mean much coming from me since I...well...fight them.” Roman said, carefully brushing Deceit’s scaled cheek with his fingers, leaving burning fire in their wake. “But she--the Dragon Witch--she does have her moments of...of being okay on occasion and you’re-” He gently rubbed his thumb under Deceit’s unblinking eye. “Probably more like Toothless than Smaug.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “Toothless? But Lyal obviously still has all his tee--”

“He means Dee’s like the Dragon named Toothless from How to Train Your Dragon, L.” Virgil interrupted. “With how he appears all dangerous at first...but turns out to be--”

No, no no! Deceit did not like where this metaphor was going. He bared his teeth, raising his human hand, ready to grab at the air though that hand had never been as good as his scaled one in silencing the others. “Call me soft and or cute Annie, and you’ll--”

“Not be making threats right now, LyLy.” Patton scolded, shaking a bright yellow finger in front of his scaled eye. “We need to solve one problem, not cause more.”

“Agreed.” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. “Which means, we need to listen to Roman in order to help you. If your scales have changed to dragon scales then by all means he would know best on how to have us help you.”

“Us.” Deceit echoed faintly, dropping his hand “But--”

“We’re family.” Logan said, his eyes glittering with careful humor as Deceit made a face.

They really needed to stop using that word in relation to him. He wasn’t--

“And FamILY sticks together!” Patton declared. “Ro, how do you help the Dragon Witch? What do we need to do for Ly?”

“But what if this is wrong?! What if it--” Deceit drew in a shuddering breath, ducking his head. “It could go wrong.” He whispered, leaning into Logan. “You don’t know--I’m not a Dragon Witch, I can’t--”

“Lyal.”

Despite himself, the tone of Roman’s voice had Deceit looking to the Creative Side as he placed a hand on his heart, holding his other one out to him.

“On my honor as a Prince and as Thomas’s Creativity, I promise, you won’t be harmed.” Roman offered him a smile that was softer, somehow more vulnerable than he’d seen on the Creative Side before. “I know what I’m doing.”

How could he promise that?! They were going off the assumption that Deceit’s scales worked in the same way as a figment in the Imagination! It wasn’t going to--

“After all…” Roman pulled back his hand to run his fingers through his hair, messing up the princey styling as he fidgeted in place. “I did...I did base her off you--you know--since--well you are--were? A bad guy.”

Patton gasped, eyes going wide. “You did?!”

Roman flushed, “I was twelve okay? I was mad at Fibber on the Roof here for something I can’t even remember now so I--I created--her based off of you, but I didn’t know that you had snake scales and dragons were so much cooler! So--so there has to be some truth to your scales working the same way as hers.” Roman offered him a shaky smile. “Right?”

Deceit opened his mouth to deny it, but he didn’t know what to say. Hadn’t his own words confirmed his scales were no longer snake ones? Hadn’t his room had betrayed him in the humidity not helping him? And Creativity--Roman was confident about this...this dragon process.

But what if it all went WRONG?! What if he lost his hand because of this! Or his eye?! He was already a freak among them. He was already--

“How about a small test.” Logan offered into the silence as Deceit continued to hesitate. “Perhaps a small spot on your shoul--”

“NO.” Deceit drew in a shuddering breath as the others stiffened. “I--I mean--yes.” He had to get the shed off somehow. “To the test. But not there. Not my arm.”

He needed his arm and if this didn’t work he didn’t want to chance losing any mobility there that he hadn’t already possibly lost. “Ro--” He swallowed over the lump of terror stuck in his throat. “Roman can--try it here.” He pushed away from Logan, though the Logical Side refused to fully release him, and gestured to his side, holding his arm out and away to give Creativity access to the area. No one ever saw him shirtless anyways, so if--if this didn’t work, it wouldn’t be a big deal to have the scales be malformed there.

“I can work with that.” Roman offered him a more confident smile as he snapped his fingers and held out his hand, a pile of opalescent dust appearing in his palm. “Usually the Dragon Witch just buries herself first and I help out later, but overall it’s a simple process for a little test.” He said. “I just press this against your side--”

“This being?” Virgil asked, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“Volcanic ash.” Roman said. “It draws out the moisture from the shed. Once it’s dry and flaky, we use some brushes to remove it and then a cloth with some mineral oil to shine the new scales right up. Easy.”

Easy enough. Deceit drew in a shaky breath, closing his human eye though his snake one remained fixed on Roman’s brightly burning hand as it neared his side. He really hoped this would work. “Do it.”

“Gently.” Logan cautioned, shifting his position so he was fully behind Deceit. A slight pressure on his shoulders urging him to lean back against his chest.

Patton took Deceit’s human hand squeezing it. “You’re gonna be okay, LyLy.” He whispered.

Still. Deceit couldn’t help but flinch as Roman pressed the dust against his side, near his navel, his breath hitching at the warmth emanating from the spot. Much warmer than he expected it to feel.

Virgil’s vibrant heat signature leaned forward. “How long does it take to know if it’s working?”

“Not long.” Roman reassured him. “Give it a minute.”

A minute. Deceit opened his human eye staring down at the spot, trying to ignore how hard his heart was pounding, how tightly he was squeezing Patton’s hand. A minute to know when it had taken him six days to realize something was wrong. A minute to discover if this volcanic ash would help him or--he didn’t want to think of the or.

“And--” Roman relaxed his hand, allowing the ash to fall away from the shed and onto the carpet.

Deceit made a soft sound in the back of his throat as he released Patton’s hand to gingerly touch the spot, warm now from the pressure Roman had placed on it, but no longer was the same shade of sickly green as the rest of his shed. Instead it had blackened like burned timber.

Was that good? Was it bad? While it did feel unnaturally warmer, the spot wasn’t itching like past shed periods to indicate that it was ready. So this had to be bad. The scales had o be ruined there now! It hadn’t worked! IT HADN--”

“Dee.” Virgil’s voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts, causing him to look up.

Anxiety’s eyeshadow had darkened again, to the same shade as the spot as he pulled Deceit’s hand away from his side. “Breathe.”

BREATHE? Deceit inhaled raggedly, clutching at Annie as Roman quickly brought a small currying brush up to his burning side, gently massaging the spot in small circles.

“That’s normal, Lion King. I promise. The skin always gets darker, the Ash--it makes it darker. It’s fine. It’s fine. I promise. It’s normal.” Creativity said as flakes of skin fell away under his careful movements.

Deceit tensed, pressing against Logan, a soft hiss escaping him as he watched Roman work. This hardly felt normal. It felt all WRONG! Normally the shed just...peeled off. It didn’t flake like this!

“Nothing’s gone wrong, Lyal. It’s working exactly like it does for the Dragon Witch.” Roman continued to reassure him, flashing him a smile as the brush changed to a cloth that he carefully rubbed along the spot. “See?” He pulled away, revealing a set of brand new scales gleaming under the light.

To Be Continued Chapter 5

#Scales #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Deceit #Logan #Roman #Virgil #Patton #Logic #Creativity #Anxiety #Morality #shedding tw #minor injuries tw #minor pain tw #touch starvation tw #death talk tw

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unicyclehippo · 5 years ago

Note

one word prompt for beaujes: knowing?

Jester folds a small clay statuette into a portion of the yards and yards of green cloth she had bought and seeks her out early in the morning.

‘In the morning?’ Veth asks, when they go over the plan one last time. She’s accompanying Jester until they find her and not a step further, at Jester’s insistence. ‘Are you sure? You know how she gets in the mornings... Yasha is only worse because sometimes - you know - the wings?’

‘I wonder if she still does that. Obann is gone, maybe she got better.’

‘From bone wings?’ Veth screws her nose up pinched and tight. It’s strange, getting used to her new face, but the fact that Veth wears it so well, looks so happy in it, means that Jester doesn’t mind at all. ‘Maybe the spa helped. Rejuvenating oils and all that.’

‘Maybe!’

‘We should ask.’

‘Definitely! Unless - you don’t think that’s too personal, do you?’

‘Asking whether her bone and creepy shadow wings that instilled a visceral wave of terror into anyone who saw them and that were a sign of her connection to an awful demonic entity have changed now that we killed him in a battle that nearly killed all of us? No, I don’t think so.’

‘Good, I wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.’

‘Of course not, she’s our friend,’ Veth agrees.

‘But when she dreamed of them being feathered again...’ Jester clutches the little packet to her chest and sighs dreamily, eyelashes fluttering. ‘They sounded so beautiful. Do you think they looked like that when she was married?’

Veth looks thoughtful a moment before she shrugs. ‘You know, I don’t know.’

‘We should ask,’ Jester says more firmly. ‘We should know more about her.’

‘Make her a nice dinner,’

‘Wine and dine her,’ Jester nods.

‘Ooh! Great idea! Get her drunk and she’ll spill all her secrets!’

‘No, Veth. We’re wooing the information from her!’

‘Hmm. We may have to get Beau involved in this.’

‘What? Why?’

‘To woo her.’

‘Oh, well, no I don’t mean woo her like that—‘ Jester says with a quick little laugh, eyes fixed on the distant point of the bow of the ship as they come to the top of the steps. ‘Just in a friend way. Beau doesn’t have to - we don’t need Beau for that, to do that,’

‘Heard that before,’ Beau says from her place, cross-legged atop the cabin. She’s sitting in her mediation pose but one eye is open and peering down at the two of them. One hand comes up to shield her eyes from the morning sun. ‘What do you want?’

See? Veth mouths, waves up toward Beau.

Jester flaps a hand toward her and after a glare, Veth scuttles away, back down the stairs.

‘Hi Beau!’

Instantly, Beau’s expression shifts. More welcoming and far more amused. ‘Morning, Jes. Are you comin’ up?’

Jester nods, searches around for something she can use as a step. As she does, she asks, ‘Is this why Veth thinks you’re not a morning person? You sound so grumpy when you talk to her.’

‘I’m not a morning person.’

Jester fixes her with a disbelieving look. ‘You’re always so nice to me in the mornings though!’

‘That’s different.’

‘How come?’

Beau comes to the edge of the cabin, dangles her legs off the side and waves for her to move back. Jumping down, she lands with barely a noise and close enough that Jester’s eyes have to shift to take in the entirety of Beau’s face, her expression. She’s smiling. It feels like a long time since Jester has seen her smile.

‘I like you,’ Beau says simply. ‘Veth? She can choke.’

‘Beau!’

Ignoring the scolding tone, Beau takes a half step back, leaning against the wall of the cabin. ‘So, what don’t you need me for?’

‘Huh? Oh,’ Jester waves a hand. ‘Talking to Yasha. Veth suggested you could - anyway, that’s not why I was looking for you. I came to give you this!’

A small frown has settled over Beau’s curious eyes, growing as Jester changes topics, and growing extremely wary indeed as Jester holds the wrapped item out toward her.

‘I wrapped it!’

‘I can see that.’

‘With a ribbon too!’

‘I can see that,’ Beau says again. ‘With a bow and everything.’

‘Yeah!’ Jester waggles the small package enticingly and her smile grows when Beau takes it as she might one of Veth’s explosive bolts—with extreme trepidation. ‘Open it!’

‘I’m gonna be honest with you, Jes, I’m—is this—‘ She examines the package closely, hefts it carefully in her hands. ‘Is this gonna—ah fuck it.’ Beau passes it into one hand and, with the other, pulls at the bow holding it closed. She tucks the ribbon into her pocket and, ever so slowly, ever so carefully, glancing up at Jester now and again to see if she has shifted out of a certain radius, unfolds the green cloth from the item within.

It isn’t perfect by any means. Jester had only discovered clay recently as a means of artistic creation. But she had had a lot of models to examine over the last few days and she is pretty proud of the small, palm-sized rat Beau holds in her hand.

‘Do you like it!’

Beau stares.

‘It took me a while to see what their little legs looked like becaus I didn’t want to scare the rats but they moved so fast and also, okay, I know we’re like super cool heroes and stuff now and I know you said they’re smart and cute but I cannot with rats, I mean maybe if you had it since it was a baby but the rats on this ship, Beau! They are not nice! Like at all! And I asked Caduceus to bribe one into sitting still for me but it took the cheese and then it bit him and he said it was okay but I think it got infected because he didn’t come near me all day and I really think he didn’t want me to see it get all swollen and stuff but then he healed it in the morning I’m pretty sure and—‘

‘You made this? For me?’ Beau interrupts quietly.

‘Mhm!’

‘Why?’

‘Because I had clay? And because I was thinking about how Professor Thaddeus flew away last time we were in Nicodranas and how you said you always wanted a rat and—‘

‘You remember that?’ Beau asks, with the strangest breathless tone that Jester stops her rambling and really looks at the other girl.

She’s standing still, both hands cupping the statue like it’s the most precious thing she has ever handled. And staring at Jester like she’s something else, something... Jester hesitates to think it but something beloved, something divine. She looks at her with a warmer, softer version of how she had seemed the morning they had met Artagan. Like Jester is the origin of all things incredible. It feels like too much for so small of a gift, but Jester knows - had known when she thought of doing it, when she made it - that Beau has had far too few gifts sent her way. Fewer still that had no cause behind them but to make Beau happy.

‘Well, yeah,’ she says, and smiles with all the force she can muster. ‘Of course, Beau.’

#cr tag #tagging my stories #prompt fill #beaujester

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blackssuunn-mandoandyodito · 4 years ago

Text

Tabaco y Brea part 5

Pairing: Javier Peña x F! Reader

Rating: M?

Words: 5.7k

A/N: Hmm, something finally happens here. I loved writing this one, hope someone enjoys it too.

Warnings: dry humping, swimming, sexual themes, dancing? If I'm missing something please let me know

Summary: The three of you go to Cali and a dance club undercover.

Part one ◇ Part two ◇Part three◇ Part four◇

"So you came here in December then? That's why you didn't go to the party?"

Of all the things you could be wearing, a red swimsuit isn't so bad in the scorching heat that Cali is going through right now. You can't deny how sexy Javi looks lying in one of the white lounge chairs at the border of the swimming pool. His shirt is completely unbuttoned, his torso wet with sweat that you want to lick off his skin. You never thought you'd see Javier Peña wearing shorts, but here you are, wanting to rip them off his thighs. His yellow aviators are hiding his eyes from you, but you can guess he's looking at the sky, avoiding the sight of you in a freaking red swimsuit out of all the possibilities.

You're lying on your own cot next to his, but looking towards him. The sight is so intoxicating that you can't bring your eyes to look away.

"Yes, I wanted to come to the Cali Fair. Back in '79 I couldn't because we went to that Christmas party" your tone portrays annoyance at the memory. Javi snorts, probably because he doesn't remember shit after getting wasted.

"And was it fun?' He sounds amused, his arms behind his head letting you know how relaxed he really is. You can't wrap your head around the fact that right now, he looks like a wet dream come true.

"You can't even imagine how much," you say, heart warming at the memories from months before. "Celia motherfucking Cruz sang and it was raining but she didn't give a fuck and kept going Javi!"

Your excited tone makes him turn his head towards you, a raised eyebrow showing above his glasses. He regrets this decision immediately.

Color tints his cheeks as he can't help but ogle you from head to toe. Strands of hair are sticking to your forehead, wet with sweat, and bothering the hell out of you. Even though the swimsuit isn't very revealing, he can see the beginning of your breasts showing, and it hugs your body in just the right places for his shorts to become tighter. Your legs are shining from the sunscreen. You’ve applied it at least 4 times and you couldn't have been lying there for more than 2 hours. He has to restrain himself from letting his hands roam all over your body and make you moan and squirm under his.

He gulps."It sounds like a fun time"

You sigh blissfully, unaware of the heated looks he's giving you. "It was", you stop for a moment, thinking. Then, "maybe you could come with me this year"

You sound hesitant and his voice decides that now is a great time to fail him. You raise your arms over your head, stretching and moaning as your back pops. He wishes you made those sounds for him, that he was the one pulling them out of your pretty mouth, not your joints. Blood rushes straight to his dick and he has to bite his lips to silence a groan.

"M-maybe" he stutters out. That's enough for you, as you relax back into the cot and let out a content sigh.

Steve is up at the hotel room he and Javi are sharing, as you got a room for yourself. You guess he's talking to Connie, letting her know how things are going and reassuring her that no, he has not been ogling pretty caleñas. You chuckle at the thought.

"It's so great Javi, the music is beautiful and the food is delicious. The heat stops bothering you because suddenly you’re sweating out of fun and not out of existence”

The fact that you sound so happy talking about it makes his heart flutter, and he promises to himself that he will definitely come back with you this year.

But he's sure he can make you sweat for a better reason than even dancing.

"Do you know who's coming this year?" He asks, trying to distract himself from his feelings. His dick is throbbing inside his clothes, and he moves his legs to relieve some tension. His heart though, his heart aches from thinking about you happy and dancing, carefree. There's nothing he can move to relieve that.

"Rumor says it'll be Héctor Lavoe!"

Javi knows you love that man, has heard you sing his songs more times than he can count. It starts to get a little annoying after the fifth time you sing 'El Cantante', but he wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Didn't he sing for Pablo on New Year's Eve?"

You nod. "He did. And they treated him like shit afterward. I was still here when that happened, and they were at Medellín"

He hums. "And I was at Bogotá, for the party"

The photos of Héctor at the Hotel Intercontinental came your way days later after the incident. You remember laughing the first time you saw them, unbelieving. Javi had come running with the pictures on his hand and had stumped them at your desk. You had wished to meet that man for years and Pablo Escobar had easily hired him. What a life.

"And how did that party go Peña?"

You're not sure you want to know. He always ends up either wasted or fucking a beautiful woman, and you don't like either.

"Much like last time. Bent over the toilet throwing up. The colonel went hysterical and said I was dying" his answer doesn't really surprise you but you let out a laugh at the idea of a high-rank soldier getting freaked out over Javi throwing up.

"It's not pretty when you're wasted pendejo"

He frowns at you. "And how would you know? You went to sleep when I started the shots last time"

So he doesn't remember. You huff. "Yeah, sure"

He sits up, confused. "Bera?" His voice is cautious and you turn your gaze towards the pool.

"You didn't let me sleep. I could hear you dry heaving at some point"

You figured it was for the best if he didn't know you had taken care of him.

He laughs, embarrassed. "I don't remember anything after I threw up the first time"

Figures. "It would have been a miracle if you did"

He shrugs as someone approaches you from beside. You look up to see Steve standing between the two of you, hair plastered to his face with sweat and the front of his shirt completely wet. He's wearing jeans and you don't know how he can bear it, your skin burns and you don't have much on.

"Are we supposed to be doing this?"

You roll your eyes. How you managed to get them to relax for the day is beyond you, but at least Javi sat down and made the most of it, Steve has been moping since you arrived.

"Murph, just shut up and sit down"

He frowns down to you and waves his hand. "Where am I supposed to? There is no space"

At that, you stand up and walk to the pool, feeling how a pair of eyes follow your every move. You grin, smug. "You can take my place"

When you jump into the water, it all splashes both men, and Javi feels relieved for a moment when he thinks he's free of the torture that is seeing you and not touching you.

The relief only lasts for a few moments before you raise over the water and now your body is all wet and Javi can feel how his dick starts dripping pre-come like a fucking teenager.

His face goes red and warm as trickles of water run down your neck, your hair slipping through your fingers as you run your hands through it. Your breasts rise at the movement of your arms and Javi takes his hand to his mouth and bites to prevent himself from moaning. He just wants to jump with you into the pool and take you right there, grip your waist and plaster your bodies together, sense how your swimsuit sticks to your body and lets him feel you almost as if you weren't wearing anything.

Steve watches it all with amusement filling his eyes, a knowing smile forming at his lips. "Calm down Peña, she's gonna notice if you don't"

Javi glares at him through his glasses and takes down his hand to adjust his shorts. He's not gonna sport a freaking boner in the middle of a pool and look like a pervert.

Murphy sits on the lounge chair you were in and turns to Javier, intertwining his hands together. Javi hopes he at least provides a distraction from his current state. "Why do you call her Bera if that's not her name?" Or not.

Javi shakes his head and smiles. "Carrillo called her berraca the first time she went with us on a raid." Steve frowns.

"Isn't that word despective?"

Javi sighs. "I think she should tell you the story, not me."

You swim in the pool without paying them any attention, the muscles on your back moving and keeping you from sinking. He wonders how the night will go for both of you today. Yes, he knows how to dance but he has never danced that kind of music with someone he... cared about, it was always with the girls at the parties. And he knows you're great at it, even if he's never seen you do it. He just hopes he won't make a fool of himself in front of you.

Time passes, you spend all evening doing laps through the pool over and over. The sounds your arms make when you move the water lull him into a state of calm for the rest of the day, Murphy even drifts off next to him and falls asleep. Javi's eyes never leave you.

The fact that it turns from a lust-filled stare to more of a look of adoration is something Javi decides to ignore for the time being.

As the sun starts going down and the place begins to darken, you stop swimming, pushing yourself up and out of the pool, dripping. Javi stands up immediately and runs to bring you a towel, wrapping you with it. You blush and look down. "Thank you, Javi," you say as you grip the edges at your chest, keeping it from falling.

"You're welcome compañera" He answers, softly. For a moment, it's only the two of you in the hotel. He looks at you, warmth spreading through his body as he sees your eyelashes with drops in them, your hair wet and your skin hot from spending all day in the swimming pool. You feel warm to the touch, warmer than usual. And when it ignites a softer instinct in him, something deeper than just wanting to touch you for pleasure, it scares him.

He leaves your side without another sound and walks to Murphy, slapping the back of his head. You chuckle at how Steve sits up, alarmed.

"I'm awake! I'm awake!" He shouts, cheeks red from the heat. He moves his head around and frowns when he looks at Javier. "What the fuck man?"

You move to the side as Steve stands up, sensing his intentions. Javi doesn't seem to notice. "Time to get ready"

Steve gets closer to him, slowly. You cover your mouth with your hands, trying to hide your grin but failing to keep a giggle from escaping. Javier frowns at you.

"What?" He says just as Steve tries to push him into the pool, but Javi manages to move away and both fall to the floor, just at the edge and shy of falling. His aviators fly away from his face and come to fall at your feet. You pick them up and put them on.

Fury covers his face when Steve stands up and gets away from him, and both you and Murphy break down laughing. With his hair plastered to his face from the heat, he looks at Steve with a murderous glare and resembles a wet cat. Needless to say, it's hilarious.

Strong steps move him, and Steve runs to the entrance without a second thought. You double up in laughter, resting one hand at your knees and the other one keeping the towel around you. Javi can't help chuckling at your amusement.

"Esto te divierte?" (this funny to you?) he asks, and even if he tries to sound stern you can see right through it.

"Bastante" (very) you say between laughs, and he shakes his head, sprinkling you with his hair.

Once you calm down, he gets close to you and wraps his arm around your frame, the touch sending electric shots through your skin. You don't say anything and let yourself be led to the hotel, the sounds of water hitting the floor as you walk serving as background noise.

"I'll see you in a few" he mutters, and you nod. He goes to his shared room with Steve as you enter yours, and the sounds of them fighting goes through the wall. You shake your head, laughing, and start to get ready for the night.

The circular brown dress makes a wave around your thighs as you twirl to see how it looks in the mirror, with spaghetti straps by the arms and heart shape at your chest. A black leather jacket is laid on the bed and your black stiletto heels are right beside it as if mocking you of what you're about to endure.

You wonder how Javi is going to dress, but you don't expect something completely different from his usual attire. Maybe a long-sleeved shirt.

You sit down on the edge of the bed and take a deep breath, urging your heart to slow down a little. It went wild the moment you stepped out of the shower and realized what was about to happen, what you were about to go through with Javier fucking Peña of all people.

You already put your makeup on, golden eyeshadow along with black eyeliner framing and highlighting your eyes. A delicate and thin gold necklace is hanging around your neck, round earrings dangling from your ears. As you slip your shoes on and shrug the jacket into your body, you pray for the night to go as calm and successful as possible.

A knock in your door shakes you out of your thoughts, and you stand up to see who it is through the door grommet. The sight of Javi greets you, and you're pleasantly surprised to see he combed his hair differently than his every day usual. It's fluffier; if only he used it like that every day.

The lock of the door makes a clicking sound as you open it to greet Javi, flushing as you realize that this is the first time he's seen you in a dress. Just as you expected, he's wearing a three-quarter black shirt with the cuffs already folded inside out, accompanied with slightly less tight jeans than his usual attire. He left his top buttons open like always, but something is missing.

His face grows hot too as the sight of you in a freaking dress with heels and your hair let loose reach his eyes, and he suddenly feels too self-conscious, awkwardly standing outside your room like a boy who's picking up his date for prom. He puts his hands in his pockets, looking away.

"Are you ready?" he asks, voice trembling slightly. He clears his throat and straightens, intimidating instance taking its place.

You shrug, not affected (at least not in the way you should) by it, stretching to take his glasses from the tabletop beside the door. He takes them, nodding as he hangs them from the front of his shirt.

"Yeah, let's go" you answer, and he lets you go outside your room to close the door behind you. Steve looms through the door and smiles at you, knowing glint shining in his eyes.

"You look beautiful Bera," he says. You wink at him, twirling slowly.

"Thank you, Murph"

Javi stands beside you with his hands on his hips, glaring at Steve.

"Where are you keeping your gun?"

His voice is strained, and you roll your eyes. How paranoid.

Your hands hike up your dress to show the hostler on your right leg to show him your Beretta 92, and both agents turn red. You huff.

"Where do you expect me to keep it?" you say, annoyed. Neither of them says anything, limiting to shaking their heads.

Javi's Smith&Wesson is probably tucked at his back, so fuck it.

A bunch of soldiers climb up the stairs at your left and get inside Javi and Steve's room, carrying walkie talkies and some other stuff with them. One of them throws one to Javi and he catches it mid-air, tucking it at his back pocket. You're not sure how he's gonna hide that, the dealers you're going to follow may be stupid but not that stupid.

"Tenemos que irnos ya agente" (We have to leave now agent) one soldier tells Javi, and he nods, grabbing your waist and pushing you to leave. You turn towards Steve and nod at him.

"Be safe, good luck" he says, both for the mission and for what you're about to endure.

"You too"

And you climb down the stairs, gripping the edge of your dress with your fingers and hoping everything goes well.

The place is packed, the line to the club rounding the corner with people waiting to be let inside. Javi put on his brown leather jacket on the way here, hiding the walkie talkie inside. You know you probably look like a cute matching couple, him with a black shirt and brown jacket and you with a black jacket and brown dress. And you didn't even plan it.

He walks alongside you with his left arm completely wrapped around your arms, keeping you close to him. His body heat seeps through the clothes, making it harder for you to concentrate on what you're doing. Your heels click as you approach the bouncer, fake lovesick smiles plastered at your faces.

"Ey hermano! Cómo estás? Qué noche eh?" (Hey brother! How are you? What a night uh?) Javi says, charm dripping from his voice. The bouncer gives him a look over, but when he turns at you, you do your best to do all the googly eyes and shy smile at him, turning to hide your face at Javi's neck, giggling. He grins, nodding as he opens the chain to let you in.

"Gracias" (Thank you) you tell him, velvety tone leaving your mouth as you walk inside. He grins and shakes his head.

"De nada señorita" (You're welcome miss)

Once inside, the amount of bodies dancing everywhere feels overwhelming even to you, and judging by how Javier tightens his grip in your shoulder, he's not comfortable in this situation.

Your eyes scan the place, searching for a spot where you still have the full view but more secluded. Two chairs come into vision in the far corner of the place at the edge of the bar, and you tug Javi to follow you.

Some faces you pass are familiar to you, probably from other clubs you've been in. You don't pay them much attention and keep pushing your way through the crowd, Javier standing right behind you holding your hand with a bruising grip.

You sit down on one of the chairs and pull Javi's closer to yours, your legs intertwining as he sits down in front of you. He seems anxious, which is not a common sight.

"What's wrong?" you ask, concerned. Your fingers caress his hand, telling yourself that you're just playing the part.

"This could get out of control real quick" he answers, and it's not like he's wrong. There's too many people, too much noise. His head moves to search for escape routes or hiding places. There's one at the opposite corner, the men's room a few steps farther and the women's room behind you, maybe two or three meters away. If anything escalates, he could throw you over the bar and jump after.

"You need to calm down" you whisper, getting closer to him and stroking his cheek. It sends shivers down his spine, the heat from the place making it difficult to breathe.

A girl approaches you and asks if you will order anything. Javi opts for tequila and you for whiskey, and he grabs your hand and laces your fingers together. You smile sweetly at him.

"I hope you know we need to go dance at some point," you say through your fake smile, the color draining from his face as he remembers what you have to do. He gulps.

"We don't have many options, do we?" He answers through gritted teeth. You shake your head, agreeing with his statement.

Time passes and your jacket comes off, leaving your shoulders exposed. The place gets more and more crowded and you know it is more likely that Escobar's men are here now. You have the faces etched in your mind, but it's difficult to see from where you're sitting at with so many bodies covering the view.

Javier lets his hand fall on your leg, direct contact from skin to skin that makes desire spread from the center of your body to all of it. His thumb brushes your skin and you figure that bringing a dress wasn't such a great idea after all. You have to bite your lip and focus on the wall behind him, soft red covering your cheeks,

The girl brings your drinks. You share a look with him and you down the drinks at once without breaking the eye contact. It burns your throat and gives you the courage you need to take his hand and pull him to the dance floor. The notes of a song you know well help you feel more secure of yourself as you walk.

Sin tu cariño no tengo sol y me falta cielo

Sin tu cariño y sin tu consuelo no sé vivir

Si no estás cerca llega la lluvia

y de tristeza todo se nubla

Y por tu ausencia hasta se me olvida como reír

Ruben Blades' voice acts as an inhibitor to you and does exactly the opposite for Javi. He tenses and grips your hand harder, bodies rubbing against him as you take him to someplace close to the center. He hates being in crowded places when it's a mission, there's a high probability that something might go wrong and many people will get hurt.

You put an easy smile in your face, winking at every person that glances at you. Your hips move from side to side, hypnotizing some of the men that look your way. Javier groans, exasperated.

With a spin, you turn to look at him and raise your right hand to interlace it with his left hand, pulling his other arm to spread his palm at your waist. He freezes, tensing under your fingers as you hold onto his shoulder.

"Calm the fuck down Peña" you bit out through gritted teeth, "we need to appear happy and easy-going"

He glares at you but complies, loosening and smiling with fake mischief. His hand pulls you closer to him, your chests almost pressed together. Your breath gets caught in your throat.

It's just an act, you remind yourself.

With a smooth motion, he shoves you slightly to start dancing in time of the song, clutching your waist and sending shivers down your spine. His movements invite you to follow along, leading your body through the slick floor and the sea of dancing people. He's alert, scanning every face of every single person in the room but completely aware of what is going on with his feet and your shape. He doesn't force a single thing, instead acting as a leading figure to your steps. He knows exactly where to take you.

"Do you see them?" you ask, voice trembling slightly as he gives a complete spin. You've danced with a lot of people in the past few months, feeling their passion and how they completely let themselves go as they moved their hips to the rhythm. And yet, not a single one came close to how dancing with Javier feels.

"No. You?" he shouts, pulling you closer to him and looking over your shoulder. You shake your head, wanting to close your eyes and let yourself go but knowing it would be a mistake to.

His thumb rubs at your waist and the atmosphere becomes tense, filled with arousal and excitement, uncertain of what the night might bring but ready to find a way to make it work. Your brown dress makes a circle as he spins you with his arm raised, black shirt hugging his body in all the right places that you couldn't appreciate properly back in the hotel. The heels make a clicking sound as you return to his embrace, blue jeans contrasting beautifully with the tone of his other clothes.

His entire body feels hot, sweat running down his neck with the amount of resistance he's using to stop himself from grabbing you and kissing your lips right on the spot. Your perfume reaches his nose and he clenches your hand instinctively, smooth skin under his fingers sending shivers down his spine. You bite your lip as he looks at you, cheeks flushed with red. Your feet move in synchrony, moving around the room as if there were just the two of you there, floating. You're breathless as he looks at you with lust-filled eyes, short, ragged breaths leaving his lips with every step he takes. Every dance move gets you a little higher, building your own bubble around. Your bodies nearly touch, getting closer and closer with every note of the song. He can feel your hot breath on his neck, goosebumps spreading all over his skin. He towers over you like a predator, wanting to take you right then and there and scare away all the men that dare to look at you the way only he should be allowed to.

His movements with you are soft and delicate but not subtle in the slightest. He makes his intentions known by moving himself and inviting you to follow along, letting you know that you can be sure he knows what he's doing.

He moves easily around the dancefloor, completely owning every single moment and each note of the song that resonates all over the crowded place.

You move your hips closer to him, chest now against his. Your smile is seductive, inviting him to be more aggressive, to act bolder. He leads you to the mere center of the dancefloor, overshadowing other couples that may come in his way. You quickly own it, attracting all eyes towards you. Everyone can feel the tension building between you two, how you let yourself be led but still manage to give off the vibe of being the one in charge.

Finally, the sight of the narcos come to your eyes as he spins you once more, and you realize then that you're attracting too much attention to yourselves. There's a slight circle formed around you, watching you dance. Some looks are filled with desire, others with jealousy from both men and women.

You squeeze Javi's shoulder subtly as the narcos walk towards the bar, near the table you were sitting at. You get closer to his ear and move your hand to pull him towards you by his neck.

"I see them," you hiss as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and subtly push him towards them just as the song begins to end. He tenses again but follows your lead.

"Let's go." He wraps his arm around you and pushes you to the table, and you brush one of the narco's back on your way there. He turns to look at you and smiles wantonly, dread forming at the bottom of your stomach. Still, you manage to smile and wink at him.

You sit down again, with Javi's back towards them as he faces you. You put your jacket on, feeling exposed.

Horror covers your features as you see one of them pointing at you and muttering something to the other one. They wave the girl that served you drinks to ask her something, and his eyes harden at the answer he receives.

"Oye," you manage to hear through the loud music, "ese no es el mexicano de la DEA?" (hey, isn't he the Mexican from the DEA?)

Nausea invades your throat. That's the nickname Javi had gained among the narcos, and apparently, they had recognized him. He frowns at you as he sees the color draining from your face, completely unaware of what you just heard.

Hurriedly, you grab his hand and pull him up, walking fast towards the restroom. You can hear him shouting behind you, but the blood rushing in your ears is louder than anything else at the moment.

You close the door behind you once both of you are inside, rapid breaths leaving your body as your chest rises and falls quickly.

"What the fuck Bera?" he complains, "we had them!"

You push him towards the sinks, covering his mouth. "They recognized you, you fucking idiot!"

Realization downs on his face just as a new song starts blasting through the club. You can hear two heavy footsteps walking around outside the room, and you know they're looking for you.

A heavy hand pounds against the door, startling you out of your stupor.

"Abran la puerta!" (open the door!) someone outside shouts. Javi turns to look at you, eyes wide open and in a defensive instance.

Out of nowhere, he grabs you by the arms and pushes you up into one of the sinks, urging you to stay silent with a finger against his lips.

"Salgan de ahí, hijos de puta!" (get out of there, motherfuckers!) a different voice yells. You grab Javier by the shirt and pull him towards you, making him stumble between your legs.

Sé que tú no quieres

Que yo a ti te quiera

Siempre tú me esquivas

De alguna manera

Si te busco por aquí

Me sales por allá

Lo único que yo quiero

No me hagas sufrir más

The song hits your ears with a blare, despite you being inside the bathroom with Javi. You freeze, waiting for another sound to come from outside.

His breath is hot in your neck, and he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. His hands have a strong grip, almost bruising. It makes your insides clench and your fingers grasp his shoulders with enough force to bring a hiss out of him.

Standing between your legs with his face hidden behind your hair, and you hope the sink is strong enough to hold your weight for a little bit longer.

'Are they gone?' he asks, voice tight.

"I don't think so" you answer.

You sound breathless, excited. You remind yourself this is supposed to be an act, you're on a mission, but with Javi so close to you, so close to your core, your mind easily becomes cloudy.

The light is shitty, doesn't let you see much farther than the wall with graffiti in front of you. There are swear words, lyrics, even drawings.

You don't comment on the hardness that's digging into your wetness through your clothes. You blame it on the rush of adrenaline that both of you are experiencing because of the situation.

Wearing a dress was a great idea after all.

He lets out a huff and buries his face deeper into your neck.

"Moan" he orders.

You do as he says, not entirely faking it but doing it loud enough for it to be heard over the music and through the door. If you stay this way for more than a few minutes, you'll combust.

His lips are pursed together, you can feel it in your skin. Javi starts grinding against you, his groans sounding completely real. One of your hands grip his back, scraping your fingers across it, whimpering. You know your sounds aren't fake. Your other hand comes down to your gun, getting off the safety, and putting your finger on the trigger.

Another blow hits the door, but this time no one shouts.

Javier's stance changes into something more aggressive, getting ready to fight in any second. His arm starts pushing you slightly as if to throw you to the floor, but nothing happens.

Finally, footsteps can be heard getting far from your hiding place, and you let out a relieved sigh.

And what now?

A few tense moments pass, neither of you making a move of changing positions.

Javi's radio makes a creaking sound just then, and he straightens and pulls away from you to answer it, taking it out of his jacket.

"Qué pasó?"(what happened?) he asks, voice tense and angry.

"Acabamos de ver salir a los narcos saliendo del lugar. Vamos a seguirlos," (we just saw the narcos get out of the place. We're going to follow them) a voice says through the radio signal.

"Bien, vamos para allá." (okay, we're on our way) he presses the button to end the communication and tucks it inside his jacket again.

Without a word, he grabs you and pulls you off the sink, then tucking his gun out of his pants and loading it. He doesn't even so much as glance at you, nodding towards the exit with his hands pointing to the floor, completely enveloped in the DEA agent part.

Hurt nestles in your chest as you see him go, your eyes piercing his back as you grab your own firearm and walk behind him. No one seems to notice the two people walking through the club with guns in his hands, too involved in their dancing and laughing. There are many couples touching each other, heat in their stares as they move through the dancefloor, and roam the other's body with passion controlling their movements.

You wonder briefly if that's how Javier and you looked just a few minutes ago, the thought feeling like a stab right to the heart and filling your eyes with tears that you quickly wipe away.

And as you get out of the place shouting and running to where the narcos supposedly went and ultimately catching them, the usual sense of satisfaction that comes with succeeding in a mission is absent and sadness and pain overwhelms your body, ending the night with a void at the bottom of your stomach.

-----

Taglist:

@larakasser @storiesofthefandomloversreblogs @fioccodineveautunnale @thisisthe-way @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @marydjarin @ithinkimhardcore

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #reader insert #my writing #idk if anyone is reading this but #I love you if you are #hope you liked it

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dirthavarens · 4 years ago

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The Shrine;; Solavellan

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Characters: Mirani Lavellan, Solas Relationship: Solavellan Rating: General Audience Warnings: None Word Count: 1420 Notes: First time posting real fic in a while. I hope you enjoy!

The Exalted Plains were beautiful save the name and history of violence and bloodshed. Dirthavaren is what the Dalish called them, a much warmer title that resonated within the confines of Mirani Lavellan’s heart. Deep within was the lair of wyverns and a high dragon that laid slain, bones carried away for armor, and what remained was picked clean by ravenous wildlife.

Mirani found a peculiar piece within Ghilan’nain’s Grove that lie just beyond the great beast’s nest and wondered how she had not seen it sooner. A sizeable and detailed shrine dedicated to a god of treachery and madness stood in carved stone. Most Dalish elves were content to carry only a small fetish and only for superstitious purposes.

“I’ve never seen something so monumental dedicated to Fen’Harel,” she mused as she placed her palm upon the stone. It was warm from the sunlight and smooth beneath her touch with the exception of the intricate pattern carved into the body. “Surely it’s tucked away for some reason. Maybe due to the possible implications?”

Wolves were not uncommon in her people’s history, as tales of the creatures never leaving the side of the one with which they were bonded. Faithful to the last, were the wolves to the elves. But those statues were large and tame, content to gaze and guard. The wolves locked in stone before her howled soundlessly upward, forever crying out to the heavens.

“And what implications do you infer?” It was Solas who spoke, but her eyes did not break from the design upon the wolves’ bodies. Their shared interest in the Fade and all things related to the true elves of Arlathan had bonded them from the very beginning of the Inquisition. She took comfort in his voice being the one to urge her further. Though, she swore she heard a note of apprehension lining his tone.

“I would say worship, but it’s hard to think of the Dread Wolf being the subject of such things if the tales ring true, though I’ve never placed much faith in the stories of my people. Maybe it’s a warning to those who venture so deeply into the Grove or maybe it’s a memorial. The Veil feels thinner and there’s room here for something. An eluvian?”

The spellbound mirrors were a well-kept secret of the old elves that served as doorways between areas. Traces of them laid derelict in the Fade and she saw them only in dreams during her early travels in the Free Marches. The one that would fit in the space between the wolves would have had to have been massive. She took a step back and looked quizzically at the architecture. The stairs that led to the shrine would only serve as more evidence to her initial conjecture.

“An eluvian?” Solas repeated. “You have knowledge of such things?”

“A little,” Mirani began with a smile, still astonished by the shrine. “What remains of the true Elvhen is little and the Dalish only seek to covet it, hide it away from the world. With more eyes and minds turned toward the history, we could learn more than ever. Leliana believes that Briala knows of at least two working eluvians and uses them to move her spies undetected from place to place.”

A hum of approval sounded from beside her as Solas stepped closer, his gaze now turned to the shrine as well. “It is refreshing to hear a Dalish voice so openly willing to admit such a thing. They claim to be true elves, but hoard and squander what they find. Knowledge should be shared to all ears, not guarded with abject hostility.”

“Though I come from a Dalish clan, Solas, you know I don’t consider myself Dalish. My clan tolerated my magic because the first to the Keeper was old enough to train me and when I was old enough, I was content enough to keep myself far from camp. I spent most of my time in search of ruins that might hold more knowledge,” she explained, ensuring that she kept the bitter taste in her mouth from soiling her words. “Occasionally, they would listen to what I learned but if anything challenged the old stories of the Creators it was immediately shut down.”

Despite her low opinion on her clan, Mirani was thankful that she had been permitted to stay among them. Most Dalish kept no more than two mages in their clan to prevent possible abominations from spawning and those two mages were always at the head of the clan. Elves were intrinsically tied to the Fade, the magic in their blood as old as time. To be punished for having that gift hardly made sense to her.

“My apologies, vhenan. My own interactions with the Dalish have been largely negative to say the least. Perhaps if I had met you earlier, I could have shared my knowledge with you.”

She turned her attention to Solas and saw the shadow of forlorn familiarity as he gazed upon Fen’Harel’s shrine. Such pain dwelt behind his eyes and Mirani could only think to amount it to the stories he possessed of the ancient elves. The glittering city of Arlathan, towering in the sky like a brilliant jewel. Despite being tied closely to the Fade, she could only imagine what he had seen in his journeys.

“You’re here now,” she returned softly. “That’s what matters.”

He blinked slowly, the amaranthine sorrow returning to its secret place within him, and turned his head in her direction. “As are you and so long as you’re willing to listen, I will share all that I know.”

“Have you ever found any traces of Fen’Harel in your travels into the Fade?”

Solas turned to her, the pelt upon his armor shifting slightly as his staff brushed it. There was a muted hesitation in him that would have been imperceptible to most members of the inner circle, but Mirani caught it in a fleeting glimpse.

“Some say his pride was too great, that he locked away the Gods to hold power of them and be the only immortal to roam free,” he started. “As you know from the tales of the Dalish, he was perceived as a monster more than a man--an enemy bearing the face of a friend, at the ready with a knife behind his back. The truth, I fear, is much more complicated. It would be easier had he simply been the malefactor all claimed him to be. He stood defiant against the pantheon, saw their misdeeds against the Elvhenan, and presumably sought a way to free them from their masters.”

Mirani returned her gaze to the wolf statues as she listened to him speak and tried to imagine the hellish fiend as something more complex, something softer, something solitary and wise and helpful. Solas continued.

“The echoes of long forgotten memories cry out his name in terror as Arlathan crumbled and the world was torn asunder. Magic left the earth as he locked away both the Forgotten Ones and the so-called Creators, the Veil holding back all that the elves were.”

“But why erect the Veil?” The question left her lips before she had time to consider the possibility of him not knowing.

“What I have found in the Fade suggests that he was attempting to keep the pantheon from destroying the world in their ceaseless lust for power and control. The people suffered a great deal from the actions of their leaders, as they often do when power is placed in the wrong hands. And in his desperate foolishness creating the Veil, the Dread Wolf caused the very world he fought against.”

They stood silent for a time. Mirani swallowed the sorrow that welled in her throat as she drowned in the imagery of the tale. She looked to the howling head of the wolf and wondered how terrible of a burden that must be. It was her every fear, to fail those who needed her protection, to fail the elves, to fail the mages, to fail herself.

She reflected a moment on his words and closed her eyes. The face she needed to place upon the Dread Wolf was not one in need of creation, but one she knew so intimately that it made her stomach drop. So visceral were his details that she could no longer keep herself blinded by self-imposed ignorance.

“It must be a heavy burden to bear,” she said after another few minutes of silence.

“It is indeed, vhenan.”

#my writing #solavellan #dragon age #dai #solas #lavellan #mirani lavellan

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years ago

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Make It Through The Night (Part 5)

(x)

Summary: The reader and Dean address their feelings for one another and finally put their plan for Sam in action...

Masterlist

Pairing: Apocalypse!Dean x reader

Square: Kisses

Word Count: 3,600ish

Warnings: language, violence, implied smut (touching), angst, fluffy ending

A/N: Written for @spngenrebingo

_____

“Morning, sleepyhead,” said Dean as you stirred awake. You blinked open your eyes, Dean on the other side of the bed with a blanket over himself. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” you said, nuzzling your face into his chest. “Much warmer.”

“Why don’t you go clean up some and I’ll find some clothes for you to change into and see what Benny left us for breakfast,” he said with a smile. He kissed your forehead and got out of bed, stilling when you sat up.

“Dean. Sam told me something about…” you trailed off. “Us. Both of us.”

“We’ll talk about it at breakfast,” he said, starting to move again when you sat up on your knees and caught his arm.

“We both know how much last night could have been a trap,” you said. He didn’t look at you but didn’t pull away either. “Why did you take a risk like that?”

“I hope if I went missing you’d come looking for me,” he said, moving his hand to yours.

“Of course I would,” you said.

“It’s that simple,” he said quietly.

“I don’t think it is. You seemed pretty upset last night,” you said.

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth,” you said. “Please.”

He dropped his head and sat back on the edge of the bed, his back to you. You scooted over beside him, his fingers lacing together with your own.

“I like you,” he said, a tiny smile appearing on his face. “I like you a lot, Y/N. You find the good in the world still. You’re who I wish I could be. Someone who’s been through shit but is still whole and still good and not some broken down piece of crap. I don’t want to kill my brother. I can’t kill him. I just can’t. You reminded me that maybe right now he’s a monster, a terrible monster, but he’s still my brother. I have to try and save him. If I give up on that, he already won. You did that and it was so easy to listen to you too. I don’t want you to go away.”

“Sam said we’re soulmates,” you said as you looked at him. He turned towards you, his face blank. “It’s why he wanted me, why those demons knew my name. He wanted to use me to break you.”

“We’re soulmates. I wasn’t expecting that,” he said, brushing his thumb over your the back of your hand.

“You like me,” you said.

“Mhm.”

“I like you too,” you said.

“Because I saved you?” he asked.

“Because you took care of me and reminded me that there are still good people out there too,” you said. “I like you.”

“Good. So we like each other and we’re soulmates. Good,” said Dean, nodding his head.

“I’m going to get washed up,” you said as you stood up, pulling on his hand. He stared for a moment before he got to his feet.

“Do you...want help with that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Unless you don’t-”

“No, I want to. There’s been enough dancing around this in my opinion,” he said. You walked slowly to the bathroom, Dean right by your side. He was quiet as he flipped on the light and you wandered in front of the mirror. Your eyes went a bit wide and he shut the door. “I forgot. You haven’t looked in a mirror yet.”

“I’m filthy,” you said, looking down at yourself, putting a hand on your arm, taking off the bandage. Your cut was gone and you stared at Dean. “What was that stuff Benny gave me?”

“It’s called grace. It comes from an angel,” said Dean, gathering up some towels from the closet. “Angels have the ability to heal. Their grace can help us recover. Benny chose to give you his.”

“How long was I gone?” you asked.

“About two and half days,” he said, stepping in front of you. “Is it warm enough in here for you?”

“Yes. I’m warm, Dean,” you smiled, starting to unbutton the flannel you wore. You slowed down as you got down farther, Dean putting his hands over yours and undoing the rest. “Your shirt’s toasty.”

“You can keep it,” he said as he finished. He pulled off his scarves and dropped them to the floor as you pushed the flannel off your shoulders. You reached behind yourself as he tugged off his shirt. You’d seen him without a shirt on before. Multiple times in fact. Never had you actually stopped and looked at him.

He smiled and undid his belt, pushing his jeans off and taking off his socks, standing up straight and looking you over. You turned around and undid your bra clasp, shimmying out of your underwear when you swore you heard him gasp quietly. Once under the shower head, you heard him join you, Dean resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Can I?” he asked. You nodded and he reached for the soap, squirting a good amount in his hands before he put his hands on your arms and slowly slid down them.

He was unbelievably gently as he worked on scrubbing your skin clean. You worked on your hair as he lathered you up, slowly resting his hands on your hips. You put your hands over his own and moved them up your torso over your chest, large hands cupping your breasts. He was soft, not even teasing, but soft. He didn’t hesitate with cleaning your bottom half as you washed out the shampoo, getting some conditioner in it. He stood after a few moments, even making sure your feet were clean.

“Close your eyes for me, sweetheart,” he said. With a hum you nodded, another cap opening and soon Dean was rubbing something over your face and neck. It smelled clean and felt smooth, the gunk wiped away and something grittier being put over it. It was an exfoliator and you smirked.

“Are you doing a step by step skin care routine, Dean?” you teased.

“You deserve to feel nice,” he said. He cleaned off your face after a moment, your eyes peeling open. “You look better.”

“Thanks,” you said. You leaned up and kissed him, Dean wrapping his arm around your back. His lips were softer than you imagined they’d be, his beard too, some heavy weight disappearing from him for a few seconds.

He backed you up against the shower wall and you felt his cock against your leg, Dean taking charge of the kiss now, breaking off and putting more force behind it. You opened your mouth wider, Dean dipping inside, mapping out the space slowly at first but turning it more heated. You slipped a hand behind you to turn up the water temp.

Instead, it went the wrong way and went cold, your eyes flashing open.

“Hey, hey,” said Dean against your cheek, quickly turning it warm again as he held you when you shook. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No cold water,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut.

“No cold water,” he said, moving you under the shower head to heat up again.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled as he rubbed your arms. “We were-”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We got time,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, giving him a big hug. “Thanks, Dean.”

“For what?”

“Saving me.”

“I save you, you save me. How’s that sound?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you said. He kissed your forehead and took a deep breath. “Can I wash you up now?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

One Month Later

“Y/N,” said Sam, grabbing you by the the throat and slamming you against the nearest wall in the bunker. You scrambled for your gun but he pulled it out of the holster and tossed it aside, inching you off the ground. You tried to catch a breath but he only smiled. “How’s the genius plan of catching me going? It’s quite obvious what you’re up to. Pity. If you had a darker side, you could have been useful to me in a different way. Now, you’re only good for one thing.”

He released you and you slid down the wall, coughing as he yanked you to your feet.

“Sammy stop!” shouted Dean as he entered the war room. Sam gripped your neck again and pulled you back against his chest, not giving you an inch of wiggle room.

“I don’t think so. You’re starting to annoy me Dean. You and your little friends,” said Sam. He squeezed harder and you couldn’t breathe, gasping as you looked at Dean.

“Sammy, it’s the blood. Let me help you,” said Dean.

“Oh, there’s nothing that needs to be helped, Dean. I’m perfect. I’ve never been better,” said Sam. You saw Dean stare at him, his eyes pleading and you took that as your cue. You clenched your fists and all of a sudden you were in the safe room with Sam, his grip on you gone.

You sprinted for the door, almost getting past the devil’s trap when his hand grabbed the back of your vest.

“Uh uh,” said Sam, tossing you back inside. You swallowed and scrambled to get out of the circle, finding a small space in the corner he couldn’t reach you. Sam narrowed his eyes and you backed up as far as you could, Sam smiling at you. “Can’t stay there forever.”

“Don’t need forever,” said Dean in the doorway. You saw him shoot and Sam went down, giving you enough time to clear the doorway before Sam had reached up to his neck and pulled out the dart. “There’s supplies in here for when you start having human needs again. You will be staying in-”

Sam’s eyes went black as he stared at Dean, tilting his head and Dean made his jaw hard.

“I will snap your neck soon, big brother,” said Sam.

“Get used to this room. You’re staying her for the indefinite future, Sammy.”

“Ow,” said Benny as you stitched up the cut over his eye an hour later. “Careful, cher. Donna likes this face.”

“Don’t be such a baby, Benny,” you said, tying off the last of it. “All set. Too bad you’re still ugly.”

“I could say the same about you,” he said, smirking as Dean came in the kitchen. “How’s he doing?”

“Oh, he’s pissed, as expected. We lost Jim and Julia,” said Dean, leaning against the door frame, poking his finger against it.

“They knew what they signed up for. It could have been a lot worse,” said Benny.

“We’re on lockdown until Sam’s detoxed. His demon’s are loyal. They’ll try to get him out. We’re not even close to being out of the woods,” said Dean as he shut his eyes. “I’m going to work on cleanup. Garth’s watching Sam. Come find me if you need something,” he said as he left.

“Dean’s not okay,” you said, wiping off Benny’s face for the last time.

“Sam did try to kill him. It’s been a hard day,” he said. “Go be with him. I got the rest of this.”

“You sure?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’m sure,” he said. You nodded and left the room, finding Dean staring down at a dead demon in the hall.

“Want some help?” you asked.

“You should rest up,” he said as you stopped next to him. He touched a gentle hand to your neck. “Your voice sounds like it hurts.”

“A little. I’ll survive. How about you?” you asked. You wrapped your hand around his and he sighed.

“You saw him. I don’t know if there’s anything left in there,” he said quietly. “This is Sam. Even if we get him back to normal, he has to live with everything he’s done. I don’t know if he can or even wants to.”

“We’ll help him,” you said. “We’re not the monsters after all.”

He half-smiled, giving you a small nod. You gave him a hug, Dean returning it.

“It’s gonna take a while. Let’s just ride it out. Sam’s going to need us when he gets through the other side of this thing.”

One Month Later

“Sammy,” said Dean, opening the door to the safe room. Sam was lying on his cot staring at the ceiling. “How you feeling today?”

“Go away, Dean,” he said, turning his back to him.

“We know you’re clean. We let you stay in here longer than you needed to,” said Dean.

“I should stay in here forever,” he mumbled.

“Hey, Sam,” you said, stepping inside the room. You walked around the cot, giving him a smile. He shut his eyes and moved his pillow over his face. “You still won’t talk to me, huh.”

“I tortured you,” he said. “So no, not in the mood to talk.”

“Sammy,” said Dean as he walked in. “Sam. Look at me please.”

Sam shook his head under the pillow and Dean squeezed his eyes shut.

“Well the door is staying open from now on,” he said. “You can go anywhere you want.”

“Go. Away.”

Dean sighed and left. You didn’t blame him. Once Sam had gotten everything out of his system, he was quiet and barely spoke. Dean had tried talking to him, tried just sitting there with him but Sam wanted to be punished and if no one did it to him, he was going to do it to himself.

“Sam,” you said, sitting on the edge of the cot. “Dean’s gone so it’s just us. Honestly, what do you need right now?”

“I don’t deserve to be here,” he said. “Or maybe I do. I made Hell on earth. I deserve to go to Hell.”

“I asked what you need, Sam.”

“I need to be left alone and live in this room for the rest of my life, that’s what I need,” he said, shoving his pillow aside as he sat up. “Go away.”

“No,” you said as you shook your head. “You tortured me. I get what I want for that. Now answer the question. What do you need?”

He closed his eyes and dropped his head, his shoulders shaking. You moved closer and gave him a hug, Sam trying to pull away but he gave in and let his head drop on your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I forgive you. Dean forgives you.”

“You shouldn’t,” breathed out Sam.

“Come on, Sam. What do you need?” you asked. He was quiet but hung onto you for a few minutes, swallowing a few times.

“Can you make me forget?” he asked. You leaned back and he lifted his head, his eyes red. “Can you make me forget the last year and a half? I can’t remember this. I need to not know that I caused all of this, that I killed people I care about. Dean won’t let me give up. I know he won’t. So that’s the next best thing, right? Make me forget it all? Hell, make me forget everything. Please.”

“No,” said Dean, turning back into the room from where he was hiding outside. “No, Sammy, you can’t forget.”

“Please,” he said. “Please.”

“I said no. I fucked up too. We both have to live with what we did or didn’t do. I wasn’t there for you and this is what happened. You caused the world to be the way it is. We both did. We don’t get off the hook for that. We fix it. So you take a few more days and get yourself together because you and I have work to do. You don’t get to get out of it by forgetting who you are. We don’t pick the easy road. We pick the right one and the only reason you are even alive is because I didn’t pick the easy one. You can show me the same courtesy.”

Sam nodded and shut his eyes, Dean walking inside and pulling him to his feet.

“Take a shower and eat something that isn’t an MRE for once,” said Dean.

“What if-”

“Sammy,” said Dean, cupping his brother’s cheeks. He gave him a gentle smile and Sam sniffled. “Sammy, we’ll fix it. It won’t happen overnight but we will.”

“I have an idea,” he said, glancing at you. “But odds are it doesn’t work and you’ll never meet Y/N.”

“I’ll find him,” you said as you walked over, Dean taking your hand. “We’re supposed to be together. It’ll happen. What’s this idea of yours, Sam?”

You gasped as you blinked your eyes, standing in the dungeon. You shook your head. Sam had an idea and you knew he told you about it but you just couldn’t remember. A spell? Maybe that’s what he wanted to try?

You wandered out to the library, catching Dean and Sam standing in there.

“What just happened?” asked Dean. Sam looked around and found a computer, tying on it for a second before he smiled. Dean moved around behind him and he cocked his head. “That’s the news. From today.”

“Time spell,” said Sam. “It never happened, the apocalypse.”

“How’d it never happen then?” asked Dean.

“I talked to the other Sam and Dean and I found the other Y/N, which is basically all of us from about a year ago and basically told them the truth of what would happen if they didn’t listen to me,” said Sam.

“So why are we still around?” you asked.

“There are two separate timelines now, aren’t there,” said Dean as Sam nodded. “One where it never happened with other versions of us and this one, where it also never happened but we’re still us. The question is why we’re still here. We should have disappeared along with everyone else.”

“You don’t deserve to be erased from existence,” said Sam. “It was dark magic but it got the job done.”

“What do you mean dark magic?” asked Dean as Sam grabbed his torso and knelt over. “Sammy.”

“I fixed it. We fixed it,” he said. “It’s okay. It was worth it.”

“What is going on-” said a voice you didn’t recognize.

“Cas,” said Dean with a smile. “Sammy’s hurt.”

“Move,” said the man in the trench coat. You stared at Dean as he put a hand on Sam. Sam shot up like a bullet, gasping a few times before he shut his eyes.

“Thanks, Cas,” said Sam.

“Angel,” you said, Cas nodding.

“Would someone care to explain what is going on?”

“Sam looked like he was doing better,” you said when you got to your room that night. “Castiel is going to keep an eye on him.”

“He fixed it but he’ll still have to live with it. We all do,” he said as you joined him in bed. “Y/N, your family is alive now. I’m sure they’re worried sick.”

“Not going anywhere,” you said.

“I love you,” he said, his lips in a gentle smile.

“I love you.”

He rolled over and kissed you, letting out a deep breath.

“I’m pretty sure this is the best night of sleep we’ll both be having in over a year,” he said.

“Agreed,” you said.

“I was thinking of shaving the beard in the…” he trailed off as you leaned up. “Or I can keep the beard.”

“I like the beard,” you said, smiling as you snuggled him.

“Alright. I’ll keep it for now,” he said, turning of the lamp. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Yeah, Dean?”

“Thank you for giving me my brother back, sweetheart.”

“We all did it together. I’m even gonna miss Benny,” you said.

“I ain’t dead,” said Benny, suddenly standing in the doorframe. “Geez. I was in the bunker too when Sam did his thing. Making me feel like-”

“Good,” you said as you got out of bed and gave him a hug.

“Aw, you got a soft spot for me, cher?” he teased.

“You did it first,” you said.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna go check on our boy before hitting the hay,” he said.

“Hey, Ben. You still human, right?” asked Dean.

“Still human,” he said as you released him and waved before he took off.

“I’m glad you two became friends in the end,” said Dean as you got back in bed.

“Me too. I’m glad Cas is alive again and Sam’s gonna be okay,” you said. “What about you though. You okay?”

“Yeah. For the first time in a long time, I’m okay again.”

______

#supernatural #spngenrebingo #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #au #bearded!dean #apocalypse au #apocalypse!dean x reader

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sushiandstarlight · 4 years ago

Text

“Unwrap”: NaNoWriMo 30 Days of Prompts

Prompt One

Today’s Prompt

Read this story on AO3

Lemon Warning

“You look tired.”

“We don't get tired.”

“No, we don't need to sleep. We get tired. You get tired and you sleep.”

Crowley had wandered into Aziraphale's rooms, in the back garden of the estate, shortly after what he would assume was the child's bedtime. Although, come to think of it, it was a bit late even for that.

“Did the child give you a hard time today?”

“Nah, just being a kid. Lots of questions.”

“Hmm, I know you like that.”

Nanny's hat and coat hung on a rack by the door. Her tie and dark sunglasses were discarded on the coffee table. By now Crowley should have been in a relaxed sprawl, but he wasn't. He sat stiffly, staring ahead.

“Tea?”

“Sure, Angel.”

Something to fuss with, that's what he needed. Just a moment alone and something familiar to occupy himself. Really, he was reading too much into Crowley. He was always reading too much, paying the demon too much mind. So the serpent was tired. Well, weren't they both?

Aziraphale moved into the tiny kitchenette and put the kettle on, palms down on the counter as he waited for the water to boil. The only sound in the room was the kettle warming so the soft sigh behind him wasn't nearly as hidden as Crowley might have liked it to be. He took care in making Crowley's tea just how he liked it: steeped a little longer than the angel would prefer, but also with a little extra sugar. He would have drank it plain and bitter out in the world, but in here with Aziraphale he was safe to indulge. There was no one to impress, only an old friend. Neither of them would mention it, but Aziraphale would see the comforted droop in Crowley's shoulders after the first sip and that would be thanks enough. There were enough things in the world to be on the defense about: tea did not need to be one of them. Not here; not with him.

When he brought the mugs back to the sitting area, Crowley was still sitting stiffly in the chair, staring out over the yard with a pained expression on his face. Aziraphale sat the mugs down on the coffee table and knelt beside him, hesitating only a moment before placing a hand on the demon's knee. Even that gentle tough made Crowley jump.

“Ngk! Sorry, Angel, lost in thought.”

“Are you okay? I mean, really.”

“Sure, tip-top. Always okay, me.”

Aziraphale stared at him pointedly and watched as Crowley's put on smile melted around the edges.

“It's silly.”

“Perhaps you should let me be the judge of that.”

“I'm afraid,” Crowley sighed again, “that I'm rather stuck in my corset.”

Aziraphale couldn't help the way his eyes drifted downwards, to the gentle curve of Crowley's waist. Truth be told, he had been doing his best to ignore it as he did with all the shapes that Crowley twisted his body into. It was only, sometimes, when he was alone that he would indulge thinking about them... All of them. There was no shape of Crowley's that Aziraphale found unappealing. But, if this one caused him pain...

“But, my dear, we have been here for weeks... how-”

“At first, I was...” and here Crowley made a pulling up gesture, “but then I thought maybe we should take it easy on that. Wouldn't want the energy to draw unwanted attention.”

Now that he thought about it, Crowley had visited him for tea (or something slightly stronger than tea) every day the first week they had been here in disguise. But he hadn't seen the demon off nanny duty since then. Why hadn't he noticed that before now? He would never curse his ability to get lost in his books (because he had brought a few with him even for this trip), but sometimes they caused quite a bit of inattention.

“Wait, do you mean...” He instinctually reached for Crowley's middle, but stopped the movement halfway, looking up at his face, “How long have you been stuck in this thing?”

Crowley looked away, out over the yard again, and mumbled something.

“Tell me it hasn't been since the last time you were here.”

“I... can't.”

“Crowley.” It was a reproach and a pity, rolled into one.

“Well, it's not like I'm human. My body can handle it.” Aziraphale watched him try to curl in on himself defensively, but when realize he couldn't bend that way in the corset his lips drew flat in frustration and he sat up straight again.

“How long are you going to let it go on, then?” Aziraphale cocked his head and squeezed the knee still under his other hand, “until the child is grown and armageddon is postponed?”

“m'here, aren't I?” Crowley grumbled.

“And here I thought it was for the company.”

Crowley glared at him.

“Is that a request, dear?”

“... yes.” Crowley shifted uncomfortably in the chair and met his eyes in a series of darting movements.

“Well, up you get then,” this was not going to be a problem, Aziraphale thought, not at all. Friends helped friends out of corsets all the time, didn't they? How else was one to get in and out of one, after all? They seemed to require help by their very nature.

Aziraphale stood and backed up to give the demon room and thought that maybe, just maybe, he saw a smile of relief flash over his face before he turned away from him. He watched Crowley's elbows move as he made quick work of the buttons down the front of his shirt and then struggled to get it off his shoulders. Aziraphale gently plucked the shirt up and tugged it down his arms.

And so, he got his first look at the corset itself: it was mainly black, which was to be expected. But, it was decorated in swirling patterns of coiled red, too. At first he couldn't tell, but upon closer inspection, he realized the coils were that of one, long snake. The scales glittered in the low light of the room. The boning was golden and winked at him, too. It was a beautiful work of art, in and of itself, but it was the shape it pulled Crowley's body into that stole Aziraphale's breath. That decadent curve to his waist had his hands itching to touch, to trace. He fisted his hands at his sides to keep them from trembling from the want of it.

Crowley, seemingly entirely unaffected by the moment, tossed a glance over his shoulder.

“It ties at the top and bottom and laces all the way down.”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was fine. He grasped the ties at the bottom and tugged, finding them easy enough to undo, before falling into a steady pattern of unlasing upwards. The task itself was repetitive enough that he was momentarily lost in it.

Until Crowley groaned softly.

“A-alright there?”

“Oh. Yeah. Just, it feels good to have it loosened.” He wiggled a little and Aziraphale lost his grip on the laces.

“Hold still, dear, I'm not finished yet.”

“Fussy.”

“Hmm.” He was most of the way up now and faced a new challenge: Crowley wore his hair a bit longer as Nanny and, well, it was right there... The almost unbearably soft-looking waves settled only a little above the last tie of the corset. He bit his lip and indulged in admiring them. Of course, he wouldn't tough them. That's not... That's not what they are.

“Taking a smoke break?”

“No,” Aziraphale laughed, if a bit higher than he normally would, and quickly finished unlacing the corset, pulling the top knot free. He helped Crowley lift it over his head and watched as the man before him relaxed for the first time in an uncounted number of days. He cleared his throat and gently set the corset on the coffee table beside their tea. It really was a lovely item, he would hate to see it ruined; or worse yet, to be the one who marred it.

“I'm sure that feels much bet...” he trailed off as he turned back, only now really taking in all the skin he'd uncovered. Really, that on it's own would have been arresting, but what stopped him in his tracks were the lines cross-crossing Crowley's back and sides. Clear marks where the seams had come together, where the boning had held him in, and where the laces had pressed, even over a layer of fabric.

“What was that?”

Aziraphale barely heard the question, his hand reaching out of it's own accord, fingers stroking along one of the lines that started at Crowley's hip and trailed upwards. He felt more than heard the sharp intake of breath under his hand. He should pull back. He would pull back. Any moment now.

But he wasn't pulling back. Instead, he was tracing another line back downwards- right along Crowley's spine. He heard the hiss just as he felt the shudder go through the man in front of him.

“Does it hurt?” Aziraphale was whispering and he wasn't sure why. Was it reverence? Was he trying not to get caught? Maybe the moment would shatter if he spoke too loudly.

“N-no,” Crowley's throat worked loudly in the quiet room, “no, that doesn't hurt.” He wasn't whispering, but his voice had mysteriously dropped a couple octaves. Also, importantly, he hadn't made a move to pull away or discourage Aziraphale's roaming fingers.

So, instead of pulling back, Aziraphale pressed his entire hand flat into the small of Crowley's back and stroked upwards, feeling the already-disappearing lines under his palm. Crowley's skin was much softer and warmer than he expected. Every bit he touched only made him want to touch more. He was losing his grip on why that was a bad idea. His palm reached the end of the marks and continued upward, along the back of Crowley's neck and into his hair. And it was, oh it was, every bit as silky as it looked. A sound left him, whether it sounded of pain or pleasure he couldn't say.

An answering whine drifted back to him as Crowley pressed his head backwards into his palm. His breath left him in a gust, his heart somehow feeling twice as large but also half as heavy, seeing this beautiful creature so willingly submit to his touch. He stepped forward, completely into Crowley's space, guiding the demon's head back onto his shoulder as he stroked down the side of his jaw, his neck, and then along his clavicle. He pressed forward against him, wishing briefly that he was disrobed, too, and he could feel all this warm skin against his own.

His other hand drifted up and settled to wrap around Crowley's hip, but didn't stay there long. It roamed upwards, counting the ribs along his side and feeling the lines the corset had left there, too. He felt the short panting breaths stirring in the lungs beneath his fingers.

He drew his nose along the line of Crowley's arched and bared throat, taking in the scent of him: something dark and sweet like deep, red cherries. His hand had stopped, sprawled across Crowley's lower belly. The room was filled with the harsh sounds of his panting breath. Aziraphale couldn't hold out any longer, he drew his tongue along the arched line of Crowley's throat and then nipped it sharply.

“Angel, please!” Crowley sobbed, breaking any semblance of silence the room had held. Any denial that this was happening. Crowley was every bit as lost to this as he was. Aziraphale wanted to wander, lost in this experience with him.

Aziraphale soothed the spot with a kiss and then nuzzled up to his ear.

“What would you have me do, my darling?” He was idly stroking his thumb just under the demon's belly button. Crowley didn't respond with words. He grasped the hand on his belly and moved it downwards, pressing it to the front of his tight, and now tented, skirt.

“You're so beautiful, Crowley,” he murmured against the demon's neck as he traced him far too gently through the cloth. Crowley's hips bucked towards his hand, but he pulled back until he settled against him again before resuming his gentle touch. Crowley groaned, a sound of frustration that was belied by the twitching under Aziraphale's palm. He liked being teased, toyed with. That was a piece of information Aziraphale sent to the back of his mind for later consideration.

He trailed his other hand back up along Crowley's neck and into his hair, grasping it and gently pulling back, exposing more of his throat to his teeth and tongue. He watched Crowley's Adam's apple bob as the man attempted to swallow back his cries and whimpers.

His own control was slipping, though. He didn't think he could tease the man in his arms much longer. What he wanted was to take him apart, to see him loose and relaxed against him, both of them knowing that Aziraphale had given him that. Removing his teasing fingers, momentarily (he promised himself), he reached down and hiked up Crowley's skirt.

Crowley, himself, was lost to it. His hips thrust into open air, seeking out the return of Aziraphale's hand.

“Patience, serpent.”

“That's a virtue,” Crowley hissed, “I don't have any virtues.”

“We both know that isn't true,” Aziraphale nibbled on the shell of his ear, prompting an almost violent shiver to rattle through him, “but we can argue about that later.”

Now, he had wrapped his slickened hand around Crowley, tight enough to hold him, but loose enough to allow the demon to thrust into the grip. Crowley let out a guttural groan and thrust into his fingers with an every-increasing pace.

“Tighter, ah, tighter please,” he gripped Aziraphale's arm, as if to hold him in place. As if Aziraphale could stop what was happening, even if he wanted to. His eyes had been glued downwards, watching Crowley move between his fingers, but now as the man breaths of the man in his arms grew quicker and unsteady, he pulled back a bit so he could watch his face. He tightened his grip and that was all it took: Crowley's face screwed up in pained pleasure before he let out a high whimper as he came, pained pleasure giving way to utter relief.

He felt the moment Crowley's knees wobbled and caught him, pulling him in tightly to his own body and holding him there, peppering his neck and sweet, gentle kisses as his breaths slowed.

“So, uh, you liked the corset, huh?” Crowley had made no move to leave the circle of his arms. His grip on Aziraphale's arm had slackened, but he hadn't let go.

“Hmm, yes, I might. A bit.”

“A bit. Angel, you go on and tell me what you really like and I'll just go ahead and do it. I can't imagine.”

“Yes, I like the corset. But, Crowley, oh you know, don't you?”

Crowley had found his feet again, although the knees were still a bit iffy. He turned slowly, still keeping close to Aziraphale.

“Know what?”

“I like the corset because it's very you. And I love all the things that you love, because I love you.”

“Oh,” a blush crept up over Crowley's cheeks and, marvelously, down his chest as well (Aziraphale logged that thought as well), “you big, sappy Angel.”

“I don't think you mind, actually.” Aziraphale squeezed him close.

“No?”

“Not at all.”

“Hmm.”

“Crowley.”

“Yes, I love it. I love you, too. But I'll take it back if you keep grinning at me like-” Aziraphale cut him off with a kiss that made him lose his knees all over again.

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley x arizaphale #good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #star light-reads #nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2020 #30 days of prompts #lemons #honestly i was trying NOT to make this a lemony prompt #because that seemed too easy #but Aziraphale wouldn't stop having lustful thoughts #i blame him

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patrickstargang · 4 years ago

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To Heal (Shadow of Kyoshi fic)

Chapter 1: The Other Side of Peace

Chapter 2: Master and Student

Chapter 3: A Cause For Celebration

Chapter 4: Taking Off The Mask

Chapter 5: Call to Action

Epilogue

The halls were dead quiet, the only sound being that of Kyoshi’s footsteps and the rain pouring outside. She moved slowly, with a candle in one hand trying not to wake anyone up. Kyoshi could feel her heart pounding, she still didn’t fully know what Rangi meant by having a “talk” but she had a pretty clear idea.

She was approaching the door to the bedroom, hesitant to go any further than where she was. But before she mustered up the strength to enter, the door opened. She saw Rangi, her hair taken out of her topknot, looser than she would normally wear it. She was also dressed in a beige night gown. The wardrobe choice definitely caught Kyoshi’s attention, though it made her more aware of how dirty her own clothes were because of kitchen duty. But there was still a stiffness in her posture, like she was still in her military outfit.

“Please, come in.” Rangi motioned for her to enter.

Kyoshi walked into the bedroom, doing so slowly and carefully. Her mind was going in a million different directions. At this point she was pretty certain what was going to happen now. There were too many clues to it. But then Kyoshi remembered, this is Rangi. This is probably some sort of subversion, to keep her on her toes. She knew what to do now.

Rangi closed the door behind them. “Kyoshi, I wanted to talk to you ab-”

She turned around to find Kyoshi in Horse stance with her eyes closed. Rangi’s face was frozen with confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“Stance training,” Kyoshi said with a flat expression. She waited for a response but only got a long pause. “That's what you meant by having a “private talk” right?”

The silence was broken by Rangi’s laughter. “You idiot, what I meant by having a private talk was that I just wanted to talk to you alone. Come on, you can stand down.”

Kyoshi didn’t budge, that sounded like a chance to let her guard down, giving Rangi plenty of opportunities to strike. She softly chuckled. “Are you getting soft on me lieutenant?”

Kyoshi could not have predicted what happened next. She felt a hand on her chin, tilting her head slightly. She opened her eyes in shock to find Rangi staring right into her, a face highlighted by distress. She paused for a moment before she spoke.

“I meant what I said. Stand down…..please.”

The desperation in that last word shook Kyoshi to her core. She hasn’t seen her like this since Hei-ran was injured. She slowly stood back up. Rangi sighed deeply.

“I wanted to talk to you about something important. Somethings been different with you lately. Whenever we’ve been together, I’ve noticed that when I talk to you about trying to get better, you always change the subject. Most of the time you just say that your ‘fine’.”

Kyoshi didn’t know how to respond to that. It felt like when Rangi and Jinpa ganged up on her for her bad habits, but much worse. It was worse because it was more personal. Without realizing it, Kyoshi smiled weakly. “Its okay, you shouldn't worry about m-”

Then she realized that she just did what Rangi was talking about. Kyoshi saw a mixture of anger and anguish come across her face. Rangi pointed at her with intensity.

“That. That face you just made. Everytime you try to brush off my questions you make that face, and quite honestly I can’t stand it anymore!” Kyoshi could feel the heat in the room rising. “I know what you're doing. Your not feeling like yourself and everytime I ask if your okay you put on that stupid fake smile. What good is it to keep bottling up your emotions?”

Kyoshi was flustered, trying to find something to reply to that scathing question. “I-Its just…. Not important right now. We can...talk about it later.”

She could feel Rangi’s accusing stare. “Why don’t we talk about it now, and how about you start by telling me the truth.”

Kyoshi was about to reply, defensive of that accusation. But the way she said those last few words caught Kyoshi off guard. It didn’t sound angry, it sounded sincere.

Every second of silence was more unbearable than the last. Kyoshi swallowed anxiously, trying to get words, any words, to come out. “I-I think the reason I keep all of that inside..is… every time I get emotional or I let my emotions do the talking, something bad happens or someone gets hurt because of what I did.”

Kyoshi exhaled through her nose, silence permeating the room yet again. Rangi looked at Kyoshi’s face, she could see that she was being honest this time. Rangi spoke with a softer tone to her voice. “So what, your just not going to feel ANYTHING?”

Kyoshi stared at the ground. “Sometimes I wish I could. I hoped before that….maybe I could do something right. Maybe I could do something that makes a difference. But all I’ve done is make things worse. Now…..now it just hurts to hope.

“What good have I ever been, for anyone?”

Then in the corner of her vision, Kyoshi saw two hands reaching in to cup her face. They were soft but firm. She picked her head up, looking at Rangi yet again.

The firebender had tears streaming down her face. She let out sharp, quick breaths trying to keep herself together. Then she kissed Kyoshi, deeply, standing on the tips of her toes to reach her. As they parted, Rangi whispered something in Kyoshi’s ear.

“What good have you been? Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Kyoshi could feel her eyes welling up. Sometimes she forgets how much she really means to Rangi. She always knew how she felt but it was only now that Kyoshi understood the extent of her feelings. But she began push the tears back down as another thought came into her mind.

“B-But I’ve hurt you too. I betrayed your trust, so many times. I almost got your mother killed! And I…..I almost lost you. I wasn’t strong enough to keep you from getting hurt.”

Kyoshi opted for an empty expression. A face of disappointment at nobody but herself. Rangi was struggling to stay calm, but she knew that the woman she loved was on the verge becoming her worst nightmare: someone who had no more tears to shed, nothing left to feel. She only had one other way to get to Kyoshi.

Rangi noticed that Kyoshi had been wearing her gloves all day. The material they were made of had been showing wear and tear through the many months of use. Rangi slowly took off one glove, Kyoshi’s glance moved to her hand, slightly bewildered. Rangi gazed at the scars on her hand, softly tracing outside of the red markings on her palm. Kyoshi could feel herself getting warmer, unsure if it was the warmth of Rangi’s hand or some heat that was building up in her chest. For the past few months, the only kind of touch she was used to was that of fighting, a visceral, painful contact. A touch this delicate still felt like a new experience for her, even if it was with someone she had held before.

Rangi pressed Kyoshi’s hand against her chest, letting it stay there for a moment before moving into her nightgown. For someone who had seen battle on a regular basis, her skin was still incredibly soft. Kyoshi’s face was as red as a tomato, her eyes darted all over the room not knowing how to process what was happening. “W-wait Rangi, are you sure about this….” Her other hand began to fidget.

Suddenly her hand stopped. Then a moment later she felt something, a soft beat. It was Rangi’s heartbeat. This was a completely new feeling, she was familiar with her own heartbeat but she never felt the heartbeat of another person.

“Do you feel that,” said Rangi. Her eyes were still watery but she was smiling. She could tell she caught Kyoshi off guard just by the look on her face. It was both amusing and relieving. “It's still beating because of you. You think you weren’t strong enough to protect me but you're wrong. You healed me, you stayed with me for days doing everything you could. And I’m here now, because of you.

“You're so much stronger than you know, but also that doesn’t mean you should keep the burden of being the Avatar to yourself. You're not alone in this anymore.”

Kyoshi remembered what Yangchen had told her about Kuruk, how he felt he had to carry out his duty alone and suffered for it. That bit of wisdom became much clearer now. During this intimate moment, she was able to find self reflection. Rangi could see that it was working, that she was breaking down the barriers Kyoshi had set up in herself.

But she decided to go further. Rangi turned around, loosening the night gown. She let it drape down, almost touching the ground, exposing most of her back until it revealed the scar. Kyoshi had already seen it many times while she was healing her, but now was a much different situation. She froze up at first, no knowing what to do until she spoke.

“Go ahead, feel it.”

Kyoshi was hesitant at first, but then she lightly grazed around the healed skin. Her back was a bit rougher than the front, but it was still soft to the touch. For only a few days, a scar as serious as that one was healing up fast. But then her face showed worry when a question arose in her mind. “Does it hurt?”

“No, not any more.” Rangi turned her head around with a loving smile. “Thanks to you.”

Kyoshi let out a light chuckle as she continued feeling the small of her back. It was only that she realized that she did save Rangi. It wasn’t just a case of luck being in their favor, Kyoshi had saved the woman she loved from death. It was still more than she could process but something about that fact was comforting.

As she was feeling the edges of Rangi’s scar, the firebender started to remember the days after Kyoshi’s fight with Xu Ping. She remembered the numerous scars she earned and the many sleepless nights waiting for her to recover. Now Rangi knew what it was like to be on the other end, having someone worried that you won’t wake up the next day. For some reason it made Rangi feel guilty, that she recovered so quickly and painlessly while Kyoshi’s scars were more permanent. It didn’t matter anymore, she shook the thought out of her head. But another one took its place.

Rangi turned her head around again. “What about you?” She paused trying to find the right words. “Do yours still hurt?”

Kyoshi was taken aback by that question. She looked down at her hands, noting the difference of the black glove and a hand covered in red searing bolts. “Sometimes. Some of the pain is gone, but I don’t know if the scars will fade.”

Rangi exhaled as her worry of Kyoshi’s pain being more permanent became true. Then another thought came into Rangi’s mind. Besides her hands shes never seen Kyoshi’s scars. Everytime Kyoshi was getting healed, she didn’t have the stomach to see the damage that was done. But now, she felt that she needed to see it. If she was going to help Kyoshi deal with her pain, she needed to see if for herself.

Rangi turned her whole body around, still covering it with the nightgown but letting it stay somewhat loose and open. The tension in the room was palpable, another long period of silence before Rangi asked the question.

“W-Would it bother you… if I looked at your scars.”

Kyoshi didn’t know how to respond at first. It was a strange question, showing the parts of herself that were marked for life felt like it could open up the painful memories that they hold. But at the same time, and she didn’t know why, but she felt a strong desire to share it with her. “It wouldn’t bother me,” she said, her voice shaking slightly from nervousness.

Rangi slowly walked up to her, feeling cautious in her movement. After a moment, they were up close to each other, not knowing what to do next. Then Rangi slowly leaned into Kyoshi, kissing her again. They lingered on the feeling, Kyoshi wrapping her arm around Rangi to pull her in closer.

It was then they started to realize where this was all going. Neither of them intended to get to this, but neither of them felt like going back either. It was a new experience for both of them, but they both wanted to go further. To reach a greater level of intimacy, no matter how new and uncertain it might be.

Rangi moved her hand to the lapel of Kyoshi’s tunic. She began pulling on the string but stopped halfway. Kyoshi looked down at the firebender, concerned that they may not have wanted the same thing. Then Rangi looked up at Kyoshi, with a light of doubt in her eyes.

“.....Is this okay?”

A wave of relief came over Kyoshi. She smiled at Rangi. A sincere smile.

“Of course it is.”

Rangi smiled back, leaning into her once again. The candle that Kyoshi brought in began to grow brighter.

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

The rain outside was beginning to subside. The only light in the room was a single candle that was beginning to dim. Rangi and Kyoshi sat on the bed, entwined and enveloped into one another. Both as bare and vulnerable as the other. There wasn’t the awkward filter of Kyoshi’s height anymore, they were both on the same level. Kyoshi softly traced around Rangi’s back while Rangi did the same Rangi made sure to go around the scars, even if it was harder in some places. It was soothing, almost therapeutic. Kyoshi had never been this intimate with anyone before, and she was glad that it was with Rangi.

But then the thoughts came flooding back into her mind. Please, not now. But it was impossible for them to stay put, especially after everything they talked about. I could have done more.

Kyoshi had stopped the movements along Rangi’s back. Rangi leaned back to see her face. She could tell something was wrong. “Is everything alright?”

Kyoshi stopped herself before she could say “everything is fine.” Her face grew serious as she tried to come up with the right words.

“I’ve been thinking...about everything you said….everything I’ve said. It made me think about… if things had gone differently.”

Rangi leaned in slightly, encouraging her to continue.

“What I mean is… What if I wasn’t the Avatar? What if I was never abandoned by my parents? What if I didn’t become a maid at the estates? Where would we be now? But more than that, I’ve been thinking about….everything. Everything that's happened these past few months.”

Kyoshi looked off the side, trying to avoid eye contact. She was opening herself up, but it was still too painful to admit it. Rangi stared at her with sympathy as she continued.

“I could have done more…...more to help Yun. If only I had more time, if only I didn’t waste it being so impulsive. If only I thought through what I was doing, made a plan or anything. Then….maybe I could have helped him. Then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt and he’d still be with us…”

Kyoshi’s breathing began to quicken.

“I could have brought him back to us. He wouldn’t have hurt you and your mother. I could have stopped him then. If I knew I was the Avatar sooner I could have stopped so much from happening….”

I could have done more……..

“Kyoshi….”

“Yun wouldn’t have been taken away, Kelsang would still be alive. So many people wouldn’t have died for me. If only I knew….”

I could have done more……..

“Kyoshi…..”

“I could have done something….something to stop all this from happening. If only I knew what I was doing back then, if only I knew how to be the Avat-”

Rangi moved Kyoshi’s head back to face her. The firebender stared right into her, eyes burning with sadness and love. Kyoshi could feel the heat of her hand on her face. With the way that Rangi was looking at her, there was nowhere left to hide. She kept her gaze until Kyoshi’s breathing slowed. Then her lips parted to speak.

“It’s not your fault.

“You did everything you could.”

Hearing those words, those exact words, coming from the person that Kyoshi loved most was like the greatest release. A release of all the regret and self loathing she had bottled up for so long. The emotional walls that Kyoshi had built began to crumble. At first tears streamed down her face but soon it became full on sobbing. When Kyoshi cried, her breaths weren’t quick and sharp like Rangi, but they were long and lingering.

Rangi embraced Kyoshi, holding onto her as tight as she could. She tried to hide her own tears, wanting to be strong for Kyoshi, before she joined in. She leaned into Kyoshi’s ear, her voice shaking just as much. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Kyoshi’s sobs continued, letting all of it out at once. It was a visceral but necessary release. After she had the strength to speak again, she leaned out to face Rangi. There was not a single bit of insincerity on Kyoshi’s face. As she tried to gather her voice, she told her something that she hasn’t said enough.

“I love you,” Kyoshi stared at Rangi lovingly, lightly brushing the side of her face. “I love you so much.”

Rangi tried to catch her breath, she still felt the sting of her tears but now she was smiling. She leaned in and kissed Kyoshi. They still held on to each other, this feeling of release was enveloping both of them.

With time, the tears subsided along with the thoughts that plagued Kyoshi. Now the only thing left was that warm feeling in her chest, knowing that someone loved her.

It was like being able to feel again.

But she did think about something else. She thought about that day by the lake, when Rangi had told her how she felt. She remembered what Rangi said, about how she deserved happiness, about how painful it was to watch her suffer. But there was one thing that still stuck in her mind.

“If I were better at my job you would never feel scared. Only loved.”

And she did. Even then, at that very moment, she still felt loved by her.

The light of the candle its last few flickers before it dimmed completely.

#avatar #atla #the rise of kyoshi #the shadow of kyoshi #kyoshi #rangi #trok #tsok #fan fic #to heal part 4 #to heal chapter 4

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blissfulalchemist · 4 years ago

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@jedi-mabari and @deathvalleyqueen I am so sorry this took me a while to get to but angst makes my heart hurt 😔 but I do hope you enjoy this piece still! 💜

The amount of times one gets to lay under the sun in the middle of a haunted town was almost never, unless your girlfriend was a figurehead of a cult. It was my idea to come here though, no one ever came here, we could be safe. Out in the open, just me and Faith like we should have been any other time of our lives.

It’s silent between the two of us as we listen to the buzzing of bugs, eyes closed, her loose hair brushing my cheeks in the wind. The sun feels warmer than it did just an hour ago, I figure it has to do with the Bliss we’ve both taken a little bit of, maybe I should have brought some music. She’s gotten better about her intake and I indulge every now and then, just to take the edge off when it all starts feeling like too much. That seems to be happening more often. If I had music I’d play something soft. I feel light despite the fear that weighs me down. Fear that I’m going to ruin this moment as my thoughts go back to the reason I invited her here.

I figured out something about our past, one we’ve apparently shared this entire time. I had finally made it to my childhood in my dad’s writings and there were too many similarities for it to be just a coincidence. Seeing her the next day, the light hitting her eyes, it all clicked. All the memories I didn’t want to acknowledge for years because they hurt, the feelings of a twelve year old’s crush, and the hollow chest I buried away after I came back to find Rachel gone. It all hurt again and it took me some time to figure out if I was mad at her or not. I am far from happy in the things she’s done but I still see her, the Rachel I knew, she’s in there somewhere.

Her hand reaches out for mine, the barest touch of her skin against mine relaxes my body, “You haven’t spoken in a while,” I need to keep my mouth shut, ”Is everything okay, Chance?” Her voice is soft as I hear the dirt shift under her, she’s turning to face me.

My heart is pounding as I entwine my fingers with hers, my free hand starting to feel clammy. “Everything is,” I hesitate with my words, because everything isn’t okay. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids but so much has changed since then. I love you, the woman you are now. I love you….and I can’t help but feel that I shouldn’t.

She’s propping herself up on her elbow, “Chance?” She’s brushing some of my hair out of my eyes, I have yet to open them fully, my hand feels empty and lost without hers. “Talk to me,” she’s worried about me.

I move to sit up bringing my knees up to rest my arms against them, “Faith….I- Well there’s something I need to tell you.” I meet her eyes briefly, she’s regarding me with her blue-green eyes that seem to see deep into me. I take a deep breath, “I was reading my dad’s journals and well,” my mouth starts to go dry, “I think we were friends before this. Back when we were kids.” I glance at her trying to read her face, she meets mine with a small smile.

She’s moving to sit up with me, her arms enveloping me, “I know,” she kisses my shoulder as my head’s reeling. She knew this whole time and didn’t tell me? How did she figure it out so fast? “I forgive you too.”

“Wait, what?” I pull back quickly facing her, my eyes narrowing, “You forgive me? How did you even figure out that we were practically best friends? And why keep that a secret from me?”

She shrugs like this whole thing is nothing, “I didn’t know at first until you brought me over the day you caused a grenade to come at me. I saw the picture on your mantle,” she’s reaching her hand out to me, “I recognized your face. I’ve always known what you looked like when you disappeared. I have a picture of the two of us in my room.” She’s laughing, grabbing my hand tracing my tattoos. My blood’s running cold with each line she makes. She knew, “You remember when we still did the team mud run at the Testy Festy. Everyone kept telling us we were too small and we’d get lost in the mud. We ended up winning first place after you tripped everyone else.”

She knew! I’m on my feet, my hands balling into fists at my sides, “This isn’t some joke Faith! Why keep this from me?” There’s a breaking in my chest.

She flinches, regaining her confidence quickly meeting my eyes head on, “I thought you’d known since the beginning and that’s why you were so nice to me. When I figured out that you didn’t, I didn’t want you to leave again.” She hangs her head crossing her legs under her. Playing the victim.

“How the fuck can I leave! I’m trapped here,” I’m clenching and unclenching my hands, shutting my eyes pushing aside the rage building up in me, “and your new little family is the reason why!” I shouldn’t be shouting, I just can’t stop myself. She knew and she’s blaming me for something I didn’t do!

She’s on her feet quickly, her hands in fists at her sides, “That wasn’t my fault! You all should have let us be! If you want someone to blame for you being trapped here, blame your damn Marshall!”

“He wouldn’t have had to come if you had just stayed as some peaceful religious group and not resorting to kidnapping some poor woman from a different state!” Her face turns to confusion as I continue, “The file we got said she’s denying any wrongdoing but there was too much evidence to say otherwise. We just needed to bring him in to question him and hope that maybe she’d talk about it. Be the corroboration that was needed for the video.”

“Video,” she whispers to herself. There’s another word mumbled that I can’t make out as she’s looking to the ground, her eyes moving from side to side like she’s trying to put something together. I can tell she knows what I’m talking about, how couldn’t she not. Everything related back to them. She shakes her head, “Maybe she’s right and it was nothing,” waving the situation off making her voice softer, “Look can we just forget about this.” She smiles and moves closer to me.

There’s an attempt to grab my hands, I pull them away crossing my arms, “No! There’s one more thing,” her face has become neutral and I hate her even more right now, “You said you forgive me. What exactly do you forgive me for?”

She rolls her eyes giving a snort, “You know what it is. You hurt me but it's okay because I forgive you.” Faith, no Rachel, runs a hand down my cheek.

My jaw clenches, “For what!” Everything she’s doing is to distract me from the problem at hand. I’m not going to forget this, I don’t want to put this off to the side never to be thought of again. “Faith I have no idea what you’re talking about? Just tell me and don’t play your little games with me.”

I watch as her head falls, there’s tears forming in her eyes, “You never came back.”

I drop my arms, “Oh,” I know exactly what she’s talking about now. The summer I promised her we would save her, that I would finally become the White Knight she always called me. My grandfather had let it slip and I couldn’t keep the secret, I had to tell her. Looking back I shouldn’t have said anything and listened to my grandfather. I just had the excitement of a kid barring me from thinking of the what if’s. She’s wrong though too, “I did come back. You were gone Faith. You left too.”

Her face turns red, eyes narrowing, her jaw clenching. I swear she’s going to break her teeth with how tight it is, “After I waited!” She’s pointing an accusing finger at me, “I waited for you!” I’m pushed back a step as she shoves me, escaping tears falling down her cheeks, “For three years Chance! Three! Years!” Her small fists are pounding against my chest and I don’t say or do anything, just let her continue, “I don’t know if you could tell already but my life went to hell when you left and didn’t come back! It was bad before that and you promised me that you would come back and things were going to get better!” I watch as the tears fall from her eyes. Her words are choked as the tears turn to sobs, “You promised and then you didn’t come back! I waited hoping you would come back for me.” I watch as she hunches over clutching her chest, her shoulders shaking with the sobs.

What can one even say to that admission? I know she’s telling the truth, I’ve seen her lie to other people, even when talking about her past, she never gets that emotional. There’s too many details in it that match up with my memory of the events. I hang my head, I promised her, I need to calm down and she needs to understand. “I was twelve Faith,” I keep my voice soft trying to keep the emotions I never let go of at bay, “and my father had just died.” I reach out to her tilting her chin up to meet my eyes, “My life didn’t turn to roses either, you know.” We were both kids, Rachel. We both made mistakes, I want to yell at her. Make her understand because there are some things that I just can’t explain any other way. I was a child, I was upset, I lost part of my world, and I didn’t know how to even begin to understand what that meant, let alone how to deal with it. To move on.

The anger returns as her eyes darken to an icy blue, “You had it a hell of a lot easier than I did! You still had someone that loved you! I didn’t! I was alone!”

My eyes go wide and there’s nothing else I can do but laugh, “Bullshit!” Faith flinches as I stand straighter, “You had Tracey, your best friend, you remember her? She wanted to stick by you and you told her to fuck off. She was someone that loved you and you pushed her away!” My breathing is shallow and fast, “So don’t go and tell me that you had no one! You did but you didn’t want them! That’s on you! Not me!”

“She couldn’t see that I wanted a family to love me! They made me feel like family, Chance! How could I turn my back on that!”

“They aren’t your family!” How many times am I going to have to tell you that!

“And how would you know?!” I can’t help but notice that she’s standing on the balls of her feet trying to reach my height, “You don’t have a family any more! Yours is dead and gone!” My hand’s starting to shake, I want nothing more than to slap her as horrible as it sounds. There’s a lump forming in my throat as I bite my tongue, “They’re gone and you refuse to let anyone else in as family! What a sad, lonely, fucking life that is! It’s no wonder that you hate yourself so much!”

My jaw clenches as I lean my face inches from her, “Fuck you,” it’s quieter than I thought it would be. Icier. It’s a low blow, she knows that and she doesn’t care or else she never would have said it. I never want anything to ever do with her again. I turn away from her making my way to the truck.

Her laughter reaches me as a cackle as she calls out to me, mocking me, “Good old Chance! Running away from everything he claims to care about when things get too hard!”

“Screw you!” The truck door slams, glancing in her direction, she’s upset but looks as if she could care less. The tires squeal as I pull out of the town leaving her behind, music on full blast, the screams making my ears ring. I’m by the bridge to cross over to the valley when I pull over putting the truck in park. I’m not screaming to sing along with the music anymore. My fingers are sore as I finally release the wheel. Bruises forming along my wrist and hands from beating the steering wheel until the energy leaves my body. I’m left leaning my head against the steering wheel catching my breath.

She’s right, she’s right. I run away and I never look back. The only reason I even came back here was because it was forced upon me. I was expecting to be dead by now, even before this reaping. She’s right, it is a lonely fucking life I’ve lived. So lonely. I was still lonely, even after meeting people here, and she was the only person that made life seem less so.

She was wrong though. I was just a kid. How was I supposed to know she was waiting for me? I’m so lonely. She let herself be lulled into the arms of her false prophet, to live the life she lived. She and Tracey could have gone anywhere and they chose to come to them. Rachel chose to stay. I’m so alone.

I don’t want to have anything to do with her. I want her back here already. I wipe away the tears from my eyes. I never should have loved her in the first place. I know who she is now, what she’s done. I need her arms around me. She’s the woman that’s drugged people to the point of losing themselves. Why did I ever think I loved her? My chest feels empty. She let a woman be taken from her family for almost a year! She’s done nothing but lie to me. I don’t need her.

I don’t need anyone. I’ve lived life on my own this long. I can survive on my own. The pain in my chest grows, the waves of sobs starting again. Why do I have a feeling like I don’t have to be alone any more?

Because it’s the wrong feeling. It’s just the grief and anger. The unresolved issues rearing their head. The things I’ve never talked about, things that don’t matter, things that I never want to see again. She’s right. I hate myself. She’s right. I run away. She’s right….god damnit she’s right….and I don’t want to be here anymore. This was never my problem to begin with.

High time I make their mess no longer mine to solve. I was fine before this, before my arrest. I let them all get into my head. Let myself believe that there was ever anything wrong with me. I don’t want to be this anymore. I want to be me again. So that’s what I’ll do. I’m on the road again the water works slowing as I make my way to a place I’ve only ever been once. My crying has stopped as I drive up to the abandoned bunker. Last time I was here for supplies, back then though I left one behind. The bottles are still there, thirty of them. All of them different types and brands, some I know are of shit quality but that won’t matter much. Good for a month, maybe less, I don’t know how much it will take to make me feel like me again.

I’m hesitating as I hold one in my hand ready to twist the top. Should I do this still? I’ve worked so hard to stop myself. It’s been almost three years since my last drink. Am I ready to throw that all away? The top is in my hand dropping to the floor. No ones going to care, I shouldn’t care what they think either. I functioned just fine with it and I can do it again. There’s a voice still screaming in my head to stop as I bring the bottle to my lips….

And I have to say, the burning of that first sip feels like coming home.

#x: emo flower child #a chance for faith #its canon #also sorry I changed the pov a little bit but it just works really well

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qualquercoisa945 · 5 years ago

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I Craft My Words To Fit Your Head, Cause No One Listens To The Dead

AO3 Link

Title Inspiration- Monster by Dodie

S U P suckers, we're back!! sorry this took so long, i planned to post it on april 10th since that would be the one year anniversary of the original one, but obviously that didn't happen. regardless, here it is, i hope you like it!!!

Trigger Warnings- discussion of abuse, discussion of sexual abuse

To be fair, Kath had a point.

It was because of that that Anne hadn’t said a word during her cousin’s rant last night- unlike Jane, who seemed to believe, at least to a certain extent, that Henry truly loved her (something that pissed her off royally), she had enough common sense to realize that, in between the beheading and emotional abuse and everything else that had happened, he didn’t love her. And she had assumed it hadn’t been all that much better for her fellow queens.

So truthfully, Anne didn’t disagree with her cousin’s point of view. What she did disagree with, at least to a certain extent, was the way she has spoken to everyone else. But truthfully, she couldn’t be mad at her for it. Well, really she was mad, but she was also rational enough to know exactly why false promises of love and denial of abuse had her as fired up as she had gotten.

That didn’t mean, however, that the tense atmosphere of the house didn’t have her feeling absolutely awful. As well as her cousin’s absence well after the time she would usually be down, even on days off.

Regardless, she forced herself to finish her breakfast before moving to the living room. She grimaced slightly when she saw she wouldn’t be alone, forcing herself to swallow it down when she saw who it was- Aragon.

On careful footsteps, she walked over to the couch, where the first queen was sitting, staring blankly at her book- if Anne was being honest with herself, she didn’t think she was taking in any of the words on the page. She sat down beside her at a comfortable distance, wincing with a sheepish smile when her band mate startled at the sudden company.

“Sorry.” She spoke softly, maintaining that same awkward smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You alright?”

“Of course.” Anne had to hold back an eye roll at the way Catherine straightened up as she hurriedly replied, watching as she went back to looking at her book.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Anne insisted, and had to bite back a slight smirk at Catherine finally looking her in the eyes. “I mean, about yesterday. We were all shaken up about it, and I could tell you were too. I’m not blind, and like it or not, I’ve known you since last time as well- I know how you act.”

Catherine glared at her, then shifted her gaze back towards her book, much to Anne’s annoyance. “I’m fine. And if I weren’t, you certainly wouldn’t be the one I would go to for help.”

She huffed softly at that, then shrugged as she stood up. “Well, if you need me, I’ll be in my room.” She promised, voice oddly gentle when it came to who she was talking to. Then she made her way upstairs.

Or, well, tried to. Because she was halted halfway up when her eyes met familiar brown ones. Anne met her cousin’s gaze calmly, noting with a soft concern how dazed her eyes looked, then looked away as the two went their separate ways.

Still, she couldn’t resist looking back as she reached the top of the stairs, watching silently as Kath turned the corner.

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

It was far later, sometime after the other queens had gone to bed, in yet another night where Anne’s insomnia had decided to act up and she found herself nursing a cup of tea at the kitchen table, when Anne heard movement- a door opening, followed by near silent footsteps heading down the stairs. She stayed dead silent as she listened, waiting to see what whoever it was would do, then froze as Kath appeared in the doorway.

The two met each other’s gaze silently, before Anne decided to break it. “Hey.” She greeted simply, though not unkindly, as she motioned for Kath to join her, something Kath seemed to do near instantly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Anne nodded in response, and she couldn’t help a smile as Kath laid her head on her folded arms. “Me either.”

Silence once again settled on the room, and Anne watched as her cousin’s knee began bouncing- an old habit she’d never actually broken. She couldn’t help but let it linger for a bit longer, then finally spoke, ignoring the shakiness to her voice.

“You weren’t…” She hesitated, but Kitty’s curious gaze let her know she would probably have to finish her sentence. “You weren’t the only one he, forced himself onto.” She watched as her cousin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then as her face fell as it hit her.

“Yeah.” She said simply, a rueful smile gracing her features. “I mean, I always knew that, and the beheading, were abuse, I guess. I’m not stupid, even if I act like it. But uh, the rest… I dunno, I guess it just never hit me that it… wasn’t my fault, you know?” She sighed softly, then turned to fully look at Kitty, who was watching her intently. “I guess, what I’m trying to say is that like, you putting it like that… Well, the shouting and shit was uncalled for, really, but I get why you were mad, and it did help me understand that. So, thank you.”

Anne bit the inside of her lip as Kitty stared at her for a few moments, then almost stumbled off her chair as her cousin all but flung herself into her arms.

Of course, she caught her.

She pulled Kitty tight against her, letting the girl bury her face in her shoulder and stay in her arms for as long as she needed to. She let go only when she started to pull back, sitting down and fixing the few stray hairs that had flew onto her face. “I’m sorry you ever had to go through all of that.” Kitty finally murmured, and Anne had to swallow dryly to keep a knot from forming in her throat.

Silence fell again, but softer this time- warmer. Or at least it did until Kath spoke up once again.

“Annie?” Anne turned to face her cousin, tipping her head ever so slightly to the side as she gave her a questioning look. “Why… do you act like what happened to you wasn’t a big deal?” She froze at the quiet question, forcing her body to relax immediately after.

“I’ve got a reputation, kid. Gotta say what keeps it.” She replied with a shrug, avoiding the frown her cousin was giving her.

“That’s not all of it and we both know that.” Anne bit back a frown as Kitty’s soft tone turned steady, almost sharp. “Anne, you realize we all have facades, right? I’m not blind, and I’m certainly not stupid. Catherine’s not as high and mighty as she acts, Cat- Parr-” She said her name with a forced formality, a hint of hurt in her tone- “cares a hell of a lot more than she acts like she does. And I know you do too. You’re smart too- I know I’m just telling you stuff you already know. But why do you keep acting like you’re just a goofball? An- And why do you act like what happened to you wasn’t a big deal?” Anne tensed up just slightly as Kitty began moving her hands about, forcing her body to relax near immediately after as her cousin turned to face her with an inquisitive gaze, as if examining her (and if Anne were being honest, she wouldn’t be surprised if that were exactly the case).

She held Kitty’s gaze silently for a few moments, before shrugging as she looked away. “Someone’s gotta be the fun one. ‘S not like being anything else got me far last time.” She kept staring straight at the table, even as she heard a soft “Annie…” from her side, or a hand squeeze hers, a gesture she weakly returned.

“‘M sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I know I don’t make much sense.”

“You still deserve your privacy.”

“You and I both know I’m too stubborn to ever do something I don’t actually want to do.”

She heard a soft, fond chuckle from beside her, eliciting a soft smile from herself as she stood up, turning to face a confused-looking Kath. Then she opened her arms, her smile turning ever so slightly awkward before Kitty all but flung herself into her arms. She pulled her cousin even tighter against herself, pressing a feather-light kiss to her temple in harsh contrast to her tight hold. “I love you.” She whispered into Kitty’s hair, barely even a breath with how quiet it was.

She felt Kitty perk up at the quiet words, and for a moment she was worried she’d overstepped, but then Kitty buried her nose in the crook her neck, and Anne couldn’t resist mimicking her actions, letting out a tiny chuckle at the soft “love you too” that her cousin mumbled into her skin, just below the choker that covered up her scar.

The pair stayed like that for a while- whether a few seconds or a few minutes, Anne wasn’t sure. The warm silence that had settled in around them was cut, however, by a slightly muffled yawn from Kitty. Anne pulled away just enough to look at her cousin, unable to hold back an amused smile. “Maybe you should head on upstairs, Kitty.” Kitty nodded with another yawn, and Anne let out a soft chuckle, more of an amused exhale, before kissing her hairline. “Go get some rest. Oh, and, tonight stays between us, okay?”

Kitty gave her an amused smirk, and Anne’s own smile faded just a bit at just how much like herself she looked in that moment, before linking pinkies with her cousin. “Pinky promise with a cherry on top.”

Anne watched as her cousin left, before chuckling softly as she grabbed her basically empty mug to go clean it before she headed to bed, letting out a yawn of her own.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfics #six #six fanfics #writing #Katherine Howard #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon

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loserslibrary · 5 years ago

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pairing: Stanley Uris/Patricia Blum/Richie Tozier [Stanpatchie] written by: Vega rating: Explicit word count: 2,711 prompt: “Not sure if anyone is willing, but due to lack of content, would love to see some Richie/Stan/Patty. Love this so much and would love to see some college aged shenanigans with them. Something sexy would be great. Maybe a first time all together. But if not up for that, maybe something with the three just being fluffy and domestic together. Just would love to see more content with them. Thanks!”

Richie stopped in front of Stan and Patty’s apartment door, his knuckles hovering in the air. He’s been here more times than he can count. Mostly because there were so many times he wouldn’t even remember going to their apartment – he would just wake up there with a killer hangover. And there would be Stan, drinking his coffee at the table like a goddamn dad of four, while Patty hummed to herself and made some breakfast. They were a bunch of college kids, but Patty and Stan seemed to have everything together.

Richie remembered when Stan first introduced him to Patty. Well, “introduced” isn’t the right word, since Richie already knew Patty. He was the one who told her to go after Stan.

A small smirk appeared on his face at the memory, before his phone buzzed in his back pocket.

Stanley the Manley: Almost here?

Shit. Why was he so damn nervous about this? Patty probably just needed to tell him something that “couldn’t wait,” even though it absolutely could. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans before taking a deep breath and knocking.

He heard Patty giggle – a soft and bubbly sound – behind the door before she was shushed by Stan. The door opened and Richie saw Patty hide a smile behind her hand before she turned around and practically skipped to the couch in their living room.

“Don’t mind her,” Stan waved his hand. “She’s just excited.” Was Richie seeing things, or did Stanley just wink at Patty?

“Uh, yeah. Okay.” Richie walked through the door, his body lightly brushing against Stan’s. “So what’s up?” Patty giggled again.

“Oh, you know… we just missed you.”

“Missed me?” Richie glanced at Stan, his eyebrows knitting in confusion before he composed himself and turned back toward Patty. “I mean, I know I’m amazing but c’mon. Stanley? Missing me? Seriously, what’s this about?” Stan rolled his eyes and placed a hand on Richie’s shoulder, leading him over to the couch.

“Just sit down and watch a movie with us.” Richie was sat in between the two of them, not upset in the slightest. After all, they are his best friends, but mostly he’s just confused by the action. Patty had her legs draped over Richie’s, her feet on Stan’s lap. It’s not like it wasn’t normal, hell, Richie has kissed Patty numerous times during games of spin the bottle. He was used to her physical affection. No, what he was confused about were the glances between Stan and Patty, the ones that led to Stan smirking and Patty having to hide her laugh behind her hand.

What the hell was going on?

The credits barely even started before Stan spoke up, and yup – that was definitely a wink.

“So, Patty had an idea…” Patty reached across Richie to playfully slap Stan.

“Oh, don’t pretend we both didn’t have the idea.” She turned to Richie, her hand on his upper arm, squeezing lightly. “You know how he is, always playing innocent.” A wicked smile spread on her lips, her eyes glinting in the yellow light of the room. Richie swallowed thickly, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, blood rushing to his crotch.

Why was he getting so turned on by this?

Stan’s fingers danced across Richie’s shoulder and a chill ran down Richie’s spine. “We were thinking,” his voice was low and husky. “What if you joined us?” Richie’s mouth went dry.

“W-What?” Richie’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses. Patty squeezed his arm again, this time more reassuringly.

“If you want to, of course.” Her voice was softer and warmer than Stan's.

“Yeah!” He whipped his head around to face her so quickly and she giggled again. “I mean, I thought you guys were like… perfect together?” He always thought they were happy with each other. Was their sex life really that bad that they needed him of all people? Stan laughed softly.

“It’s not what you’re thinking. We love each other and we are happy. It’s just…” He looked to Patty for help, not quite sure how to word what he wanted to say.

“We feel happier with you.” She said simply. “It’s like you complete us in a way we didn’t know was possible.” Richie let the words sink in. He… completes them? Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier completes picture perfect couple Stanley Uris and Patty Blum? He must be dreaming.

“Rich?” Stan tried gently, noticing the distant look in his eyes.

“Are you guys fucking with me?” He looked at Stan, trying to see if he’d crack and laugh at Richie for actually believing this. When he didn’t, Richie turned towards Patty, knowing she was never able to keep a secret. There were countless times when Richie’s pranks failed because Patty couldn’t keep a straight face. “I know I’ve joked about being fucked by you guys, so if this is payback for going too far–”

“Richie,” Patty moved her hand to his shoulder. “We’re serious.”

“Oh my God.” Stan rolled his eyes and grabbed Richie’s face, turning it toward him. He tilted his head slightly before pressing their lips together. Stan worked their mouths together for a moment until Richie processed what was happening and started kissing back. He felt Stan smirk against his lips before he pulled back. “Is that proof enough we’re serious?”

“Uh huh,” Richie said dumbly. Patty leaned forward, the word she whispered in Richie’s ear giving him goosebumps.

“Good.” She moved to straddle Richie’s lap, grinding down on him slightly to elicit a hungry moan from him. She captured his lips with her own, moving them together, slowly at first, until she swiped her tongue across his bottom lip. He readily opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, his hands instinctively going to rest on her hips. Stan got up from where he was sitting, moving to stand behind Patty. He leaned down to kiss the spot just behind her ear that made her go crazy. Pulling her hair away, Stan made his way down Patty’s neck, kissing and nipping at the skin gently. She broke the kiss with Richie to lean back into Stan’s touch, a small whine leaving her mouth. Stan rubbed his hands up and down her sides, his touch light.

Richie stared wide-eyed at the view in front of him, his mouth slightly agape. Patty’s face was flushed, accentuating her delicate features, while Stan looked at him with hungry, half-lidded eyes. Stan grabbed one of Richie’s hands, guiding and giving him permission to touch Patty. He hesitated for a moment before slipping his hand under Patty’s thin shirt. Her skin was smooth, almost burning to the touch, as he slid further and further up, cupping her breast. Patty’s eyes fluttered closed, a small smirk appearing on her lips as Richie realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. He opened his mouth to say something, but Stan beat him to it.

“Bedroom. Now.” He practically growled out. Patty let out a small whine when Stan withdrew his hands from her, but she obliged, sliding off Richie’s lap.

“I’m assuming you wanna be in charge tonight?” She had a sly smile on her lips and he hummed in response.

“Wait,” Richie spoke up, very intrigued. “I want her to be in charge.”

“Beep beep, Rich.” Stan said with a roll of his eyes. Patty giggled again, and gently patted Richie’s cheek.

“Next time, baby.” She made her way to the bedroom, stripping off her shirt and throwing it on the floor. Richie watched her as she walked away, entranced by the whole situation. He had to be dreaming.

“C’mon, Richie.” Stan’s voice brought him back to reality. “We shouldn’t keep her waiting.” He winked at him, motioning him to follow, and Richie did, eagerly on Stan’s heels for the short walk to the bedroom.

Patty was lounging on the bed, naked except for white, lacy panties, dragging her fingers on the sheet while she waited for them. She perked up when they entered the room, scrambling to sit up on her knees. Stan walked up to her, capturing her lips in a sweet and tender kiss.

“Couldn’t wait for us, huh, babylove?” Stan teased, his voice soft. She laughed against his mouth and Richie felt his heart swell with love for his friends before he moved toward them.

“So can I get in on this or what?” Stan laughed softly, breaking away from Patty to turn to face Richie. He grabbed the back of Richie’s neck, bringing him into a passionate kiss. This time, Richie noticed how soft Stan’s lips felt against his, noticed the strong grip Stan had on him. Stan bit his lower lip, causing Richie to moan and allowing Stan to deepen the kiss. Richie heard Patty get off the bed, and stand behind him. Her hands wrapped around his waist, first sliding up his shirt before she started palming his growing erection over his underwear.

Stan moved away from Richie’s mouth, leaving sloppy and wet kisses and gently, but firmly, biting along his neck and shoulders.

“Stan,” Patty breathed against Richie’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Help me out.” Her hands were fumbling with his belt, trying to get it at least loosened enough to slide Richie’s pants down. Stan smirked, but wordlessly obliged. Richie’s pants fell to the ground and Patty turned him around, getting on her knees in front of him. She hooked her fingers under his underwear, sliding them down his legs until they hit the floor. She licked her lips as she stared at Richie’s hard cock, eyes wide and hungry.

“Didn’t think all those jokes were true, Tozier,” Patty teased before she put her lips around him, her hand at his base. She swirled her tongue around his tip, earning a soft groan from Richie. She slowly worked her hand in rhythm with the short bobs of her head. With his eyes fluttering closed, Richie grabbed onto Patty’s hair, pulling slightly. He heard a rustle and a drawer closing behind him.

Suddenly, Patty pulled her mouth off of him, smirking up at him, before she stood up and made her way back to the bed. She sat back, leaning against the headboard. Richie was still processing what just happened when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the bed as well. He was gently pushed forward, falling onto the soft mattress underneath him and landing on his hands and knees.

“Being a little rough, Stanny?” Richie looked back, smiling at him. Stan, stripped down to his underwear, rolled his eyes, squeezing lube onto his fingers. He nudged Richie’s legs further apart. He teased his fingers around Richie’s rim before he pushed one in. Richie moaned while Stan slowly pumped his finger, waiting for Richie to get accustomed to it before adding another one.

Richie faced forward, seeing Patty’s hand slide underneath her panties, her hand moving in rhythm with Stan’s fingers. Her face was flushed, the blush spreading to her chest, accentuating the faint freckles she had on her body.

“Holy shit,” Richie breathed out. Stan began scissoring his fingers, stretching Richie out, adding a third finger in. A groan left Richie’s mouth, if it felt this good, he could only imagine how Stan would make him feel. Still keeping a brutally slow pace, Stan continued to work his fingers, long fingers brushing against Richie’s prostate with each thrust. “Stan, please.” Stan hummed, wanting Richie to say it. “Please fuck me.”

Stan glanced at Patty, watching the way her chest rose and fell with each jagged breath, her pleasure growing. He caught her eyes and quirked an eyebrow, an unspoken question on his lips and she nodded in response.

“Richie, baby,” Stan leaned forward to whisper in Richie’s ear, breath hot as he withdrew his fingers, and Richie whined at the loss. “I’ll fuck you hard,” he grabbed Richie’s hips and ground them against his clothed hard cock for emphasis, causing him to groan. “But you have to be a good boy and help Patty out, okay?”

“Yesyesyes.” The words tumbled out of his mouth immediately. Patty lifted her hips off of the bed, sliding her underwear off and tossing it on the floor. She scooted closer to Richie, and he hooked his arms under her legs, placing soft kisses against her inner thighs, before moving to her pussy.

Stan hooked his fingers under the band of his underwear, letting the fabric fall to the ground. He took his length into his hand, rolling the condom on and moaning slightly, applying the cool lube to himself. He watched Richie and Patty for a moment – with Richie gently sucking at her clit and folds, before pushing his tongue inside. She moaned loudly and grasped at the bedsheet underneath her, knuckles turning white.

“Richie,” Patty screamed out at the same time Stan lined himself up to Richie’s entrance, gripping his hips with enough pressure to bruise. He pushed in, burying himself to his base, both Richie and Stan groaning at the feeling. He let Richie adjust for a moment before he started moving, thrusting slowly and shallowly into him. Richie moaned with the movement, trying to focus on helping Patty through her orgasm. She rode out her high, bucking her hips forward and gripping at Richie’s hair. Stan slammed Richie’s hips back to meet his, and Richie let out a muffled cry.

“You feel so good, Rich,” Stan growled, earning another moan from him. His pace quickened, the room filled with sounds of groans and pants and skin on skin contact. “Fuck her in time with me, baby.” Richie obliged, his tongue darting in and out of Patty at the same brutal pace, his hand snaking around to rub at her clit, until she was nothing but a mumbling mess, screaming out “yes” and profanities.

Patty’s thighs started to tremble, the pressure in her stomach building up again. She held Richie’s face to her pussy as she orgasmed. One of Stan’s hands left Richie’s hips, moving to grab onto his leaking dick. He spread the precum around the head with his thumb before he started to work at the same rate as his thrusts. Patty let go of of Richie’s hair, her head falling back against the pillows in bliss. He licked around Patty’s folds before kissing her thighs again, leaving the occasional bite. Richie moaned against her skin, Stan’s pace becoming rougher and more chaotic as he chased his orgasm.

“Fuck, Stan I’m gonna–” The words died on his lips as Richie came all over Stan’s hand, his head falling to rest on Patty’s stomach. Stan continued to fuck into him, wiping his hand on Richie’s thigh before placing it on his hip again. He slammed into him, their hips meeting as he spilled into the condom. He held onto Richie while he rode out his high, fingernails digging into his skin, leaving crescent shaped marks. Stan pulled out, Richie whining a little even in his tired state. Patty gently ran her fingers through Richie’s hair, telling him how good he did in hushed whispers. Stan smiled at them before falling onto the bed next to them, arm slung around Richie’s body.

“You know, Richie,” Stan spoke softly. “We do want you to be with us. Not just for sex.”

“I know,” he mumbled against Patty’s skin, tickling her and causing her to giggle. “And you know I love you guys, right?” He lifted his head and rested his chin on top of her stomach, looking at the two of them with vulnerable eyes.

“We know” Patty’s voice cracked a little as she placed her hand against his cheek, looking at him softly. “We know.”

#stanpatchie #stanpatchie fic #stozier #stanpat #richiepat #ours #by vega #ours: stanpatchie #notsfw #bottom richie #establishing relationship #poly ships #poly ships: stanpatchie #richie tozier #stanley uris #patty blum

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nate-santos · 5 years ago

Text

O, Death || Nate & Morgan

@mor-beck-more-problems

Nate gets his tarot read! Nothing bad happens!

Nate had never had any sort of psychic reading done before, and while most might think the whole practice was fake or silly, he wasn’t so sure. At this point, Nate had seen enough to know that pretty much anything was possible, even the ability for someone to read his future with a few pieces of cardboard. He was overwhelmed with nerves all evening as he ran around his house making sure it didn’t look like it was entirely in disrepair. Sure, he’d just gone through some flooding and he’d never really made the interior feel like home aside from towers of take out boxes, but Morgan didn’t need to know that he lived such a sad life. Not that she wouldn’t be able to tell just by reading his future...god, was all this stuff really real? He paced the familiar path next to his front door as he waited for Morgan to arrive, jumping into action probably quicker than he really should when her knock finally came. “Hi! Hey! Welcome! Sorry- I’m uh...a little nervous...Would you like to come in?”

Morgan felt bad for how easily Nate fell off her radar. He’d admitted he was a zombie to her, over the internet, and he was always on the town social media checking in on things or saying nice things about other people. And somehow he was willing to pay her twenty bucks to hang out and give him a tarot reading despite knowing divination wasn’t her magic department. If she hadn’t needed the money so bad, she would’ve taken back the idea of compensation to get some good energy going in her favor. “Hey!” She said brightly. “Love to!” She stepped inside and--wow. Maybe the reason Nate was so nice for the same reason she tried to be: his existence away from the rest of the world was so...sad. “This is...great! Did you build the whole place yourself? It’s enormous.” She asked, tiptoeing around the takeout. It was nice, or it could be nice, if he knew how to give it a little love. She wandered to the back of the main room and looked out the windows. Trees on all sides and the brightest view of the night sky and the waxing moon. Nate would have made a good warlock, she decided.

Nate ran a hand through his hair, nervously looking for something to occupy his antsy fingers as Morgan looked around his sparse living space. He had been so proud of the design, and looking over the space now, he felt an overwhelming surge of guilt at how he was treating his “dream” home. This was supposed to be he and Mari’s forever house and he had only decorated it with take out boxes and safety proofing equipment. It was so pathetic when he looked at it through the lens of someone else. “Y-yeah! I designed it myself...I wanted to have a nice view and stuff...it was uh...planned for a while. Didn’t think I’d build it in this town but- well…” He trailed off, his eyes falling to his feet. “So uh...where are we supposed to do this? Do you need candles or something? ‘Cause I don’t think I have any...fire hazard and all that.”

“Well you definitely got the view down with these windows. And this deck!” Morgan exclaimed. She swiveled back over to him. “I brought the atmospheric candles, don’t worry. And your homeopath-tastic cleanser of choice. You seem like you might be a cedar and juniper kind of guy, but I also have lavender if you want to have a softer mood. And we can do it anywhere!” Immediately after she said this, however, she had a distinct feeling that no amount of magic, real or otherwise, would make this living room the kind of space where you would feel cozy hashing out your feelings. “But, since you’re asking, I would love to spend some time on your porch! It’s so nice out, it’d be a shame not to, right?”

Nate smiled lightly at Morgan’s positivity. The whole experience made him nervous, but then again, most things made him nervous. But she had an optimism to her that made Nate remember what it was like to feel happy, even if his nerves were overtaking him. “Oh uh...I’m not sure? I don’t really know what any of those smells...do? But I think uh...softer might be...ideal?” Nate kicked at the toes of his shoes, unsure what to do with himself. “Outside? Uh- yeah, sure!” Nate glanced out the window, noting the bright sky, the nearly full moon reflecting on the river. It did look peaceful, almost like it wasn’t the back yard of a man who would become a monster once he died. Nate grabbed a few blankets and led the way out to the porch, plugging in the few strands of twinkle lights he’d installed and rarely ever used. “Is this ok? Or should I turn them off? I’m- I’m sorry, I’m a little nervous…”

Morgan beamed at Nate, nervous about everything, even a little aromatherapy. But, yep, in spite of his lumberjack figure, Nate was as soft as a flower petal inside. If she’d met him in person before, she probably wouldn’t have bothered with the cedar in the first place. “Lavender is perfect,” she said.

Somehow she ended up leading the way to the porch and setting out space for them. Blanket, candles, lavender. “Are you kidding? The lights are perfect! You need to have people over more often, you could throw some amazing parties!” But, that was probably not going to happen anytime soon, if they were being realistic. Morgan took her seat on one end and gestured for Nate to take the spot opposite. When he was ready, she passed him the deck, “So, what do you want to know about your life right now, Nate?”

Nate chuckled. As if he even knew enough people to have a party at his place. Even though he’d originally designed it for entertaining, without Mari around, it just felt...empty. All the time. And that was fine. Sometimes Nate thought maybe he liked the sadness it brought. It was like a penance for not being there to save her. As if being bitten by a zombie wasn’t bad enough. “I uh- yeah...maybe when it gets warmer out,” he hedged. The view overlooking the river would be the perfect backdrop for a backyard BBQ, complete with neighborhood kids running around and his friends laughing over a beer. Nate shooks the thought out of his head. He settled in, focusing back to the present. “I-” he paused, wringing his hands in his lap. “Will I die soon?”

“Nate! Your whole future isn’t written in stone! And there’s nothing in you that could have the answer for that besides your own fear. Ask something that acknowledges that you have some agency over yourself. Fate--” Morgan hesitated. Fate, as far as she could tell from Deirdre, was a real and terrifying bitch. Fate wanted you for life, sometimes. But Fate couldn’t possibly have her hands in everything. There was too much universe and too much magic for her to steal Nate’s potential on the mortal plane or her fucked up family curse. Right? “Fate doesn’t have every card in the deck. You have some power, right now, to choose how your life takes shape. Doesn’t it matter how? Isn’t there anything you want to make sure happens before the end?”

Nate stared at his hands, falling silent for a long while. He wasn’t sure that he did have agency over when he was going to die. He liked to think he did, and he sure did try hard to make sure it wasn’t any time soon, but at the end of the day, he would still become a monster when it happened. For all his research and all his attempts, there was still nothing he could do to change that. He racked his brain trying to think of an easier question, perhaps something that might even ease his mind, if only for a moment. “Ok...ok…” Nate crossed his legs and sucked in a long breath. “Will I...find peace? Before the end?”

“There you go,” Morgan said. “How will you? What do you need, right now, in order to find peace at the end? She took the cards up and gave them a shuffle, thinking of Nate all the while, and laid them out in an arc facing him. The fireflies buzzed gently in the air, looping their peaceful infinities. They buzzed near Morgan’s neck and dipped across Nate’s vision. She hoped, for his sake, the pull of life to him was a good sign. Okay, thinking about what you need, right now, to find your peace, draw a card.”

Truly, Nate wasn’t sure what it was that would bring him peace. Seeing Mari one last time? A guarantee than once he died, he wouldn’t wake up and murder the first person he saw, consuming their brains? Knowledge that there was a real cure to what he was? He closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself as much as possible. He resisted the urge to swat at the fireflies, knowing they weren’t poisonous, before reaching out to pull his first card. Flipping it over, his stomach knotted, unsure what it meant. “Is that...good?”

The card was Death. Poor Nate, Morgan thought with a sigh. It was good, insofar as anything was good, but it sure would’ve been helpful if the cards had been less...aggressive. “So, you may not believe it, but yes. This isn’t about literal dying, it’s about letting go. Letting something that’s tired, broken, and no longer helping you...die. And out of that passing, finding space for something new to take shape.” She gave Nate the most encouraging smile she could muster. “Sometimes death is something that is, something that fits into the balance of everything. This Death, it only comes for you when it’s really time. When the bones your dragging are ready to be laid to rest. Especially when those bones are old stories you’re used to telling yourself that just don’t do what they’re supposed to anymore. Am I making any sense?”

Nate wasn’t familiar with tarot cards or their meanings, but a card that literally reads DEATH couldn’t be good. He could feel the familiar wave of panic cresting over him and his hands gripped his chair. “Y-you sure? It’s- literally...it’s death!” Nate rocked slowly, trying to calm himself. Death and rebirth. Death of things he’s been carrying around. Death of his fear of dying? Did that even make sense? Nate wrapped his arms around himself and looked up at Morgan. “Is- there another...would the next card maybe...be better?”

“Nate, please don’t freak out,” Morgan urged gently. “Death can be--” She hesitated, wondering for a moment if there wasn’t something in the cardstock after all that knew she was here and taking a two-way jab. “--Even real death doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It can just be. Or be a gift. I don’t know how exactly, I just heard it from someone who’d seen a lot of it and that’s not what this is about anyway, I want to emphasize that--but it’s possible. And if even real death can be a gift, then letting go of this something in you can be a gift too. It just wants you to let go. As gently as you can. And it’ll be caught, and so will the rest of you. You won’t fall when you let go. This Death will catch you and the whole world will open up.” She smiled sadly at him, and decided not to question who she was more sorry for in that moment. “But, you should definitely draw another card!” She said, straightening herself up with cheer. “Three card pulls are nice and easy.”

Nate drew.

“Ooh! Look how strong he is, right? This is what you’re really aiming for, what’s waiting for you after you’re caught! The Hierophant is a master teacher. He’s got all the rules, the knowledge, usually in some kind of organized structure? And, as counter-intuitive as it might seem, you could actually move closer to finding that kind of firm, organized knowledge if you let go. Or maybe there’s someone you know like this already, and they want to help you! It doesn’t have to be a man, I should probably mention that. All these energies are around and in us. It’s what they’re offering you that’s important. Is that--does that--make you feel any better?”

Nate struggled to calm his breathing, squeezing his eyes shut before managing to suck in a few deeper breaths, forcing serenity into his body. He was afraid to open them, to see the next card that could destroy his future. But what was he gonna do? Chicken out? Pretend like any of this wasn’t real? Maybe...maybe he would get caught. Maybe Morgan was right. Maybe death wasn’t the death he thought. Nate slowly opened his eyes and stared down at the cards, flipping the next. Morgan’s reaction was all he needed to feel the smallest bit better. “Y-yeah,” he started, feeling one of the zillions of stress knots in his stomach start to loosen. But as was always the way with Nate’s luck, a shadowy figure sent him straight into another panic. “But...uh, M-Morgan? Were you uh...expecting anyone else?” His eyes were locked on the figure behind Morgan, making its slow approach towards the house. “C-cause my...neighbors are...out of town….”

Morgan was preparing to explain the next card, the Hanged Man, making a full set of major arcana cards, no suits, just big, demanding energy, when she noticed Nate go still with alarm. “Someone else?” She asked, confused. She looked over her shoulder and--

No.

No, this was bullshit. She was not seeing him right now. This was some evil, cursed, supernatural bullshit. Morgan felt sick. She sank onto her hands, her chest tightening. His face had been all wrong, sagging to one side, swollen on the other from the impact of hitting that tree, like on that last day. Morgan fixed her eyes on the deck, waiting to see his staggering footsteps. She waited. Nothing. Morgan risked a look up and-- nothing still. “Fuck this,” she hissed, and scrambled to her feet towards the door.

Nate scrambled backwards, feeling the sense of unease rolling off of Morgan in waves. Whoever this was was not welcome here. “W-where are you going? What’s happening??” He rushed after her pulling them both into the house and locking the door out of reflex. “Do you know that person?” His brows furrowed, not understanding why she might have invited someone else to their reading, but honestly hoping she did. It was better than the alternative which of course was that some shambling stranger was wandering around his yard in the pitch black darkness. As if he wasn’t already horrified of his future.

Morgan pressed her back to the door. “Person?” Morgan hissed through her teeth, voice shrill. “What kind of person disappears as soon as you stop looking at them!” Was this some kind of hex? More White Crest bullshit? Morgan’s brain was firing too fast for her to think, and she didn’t even know half the critters that lived in the cursed place. But whatever was making her see her Dad, mangled and estranged from his real self as he’d been on the day she lost him, after the time she’d had with the treasure chest coins, was on her list. “That is a thing,” she growled. “Some stupid curse, some ghost out of a stick or I don’t even know! But I am not putting up with this!” She went to her bag and started rummaging. Nothing stood out, nothing seemed right, she was running too fast from this to think. “What do you know about the weird things here?”

Nate shrank back at Morgan’s change in demeanor. She’d been so calming before the appearance of the man, though Nate couldn’t fault her. He was straight up terrified now. “I don’t know!! But it- it looked like a person!!” Nate eyed the door, knowing his locks were more than secure, but if that...thing wasn’t a person after all, would all the locks in the world even work? “I know...there’s a lot of it? Everything’s weird?” He wasn’t sure what Morgan had in her bag that could help them right now, but he prayed she knew more than he did about this sort of thing.

Peeking through the door’s window, Nate’s stomach dropped to his knees. No longer did he see the figure of a man, but a lumbering woman, limping along with one arm barely hanging onto her shoulder. In the pale moonlight, there was no mistaking her. Mari. Nate crashed to his knees, his head slamming hard against the door as sobs raked through him. “N-no no no no….she’s- she can’t be-” Somewhere in the back of his mind, Nate wanted to try to help Morgan, but it was all he could do to breathe. His love had come back after all. It only took nine years, but she’d finally found him. He wondered if she were able to eat normally she might have some sort of chance at a real life, like Remmy had. Crawling over to the front window, he saw Mari’s intestines trailing behind her, muscle and raw sinew draped across her shoulders like some sick shawl from beyond the grave. “M-Morgan-” Nate croaked, pointing out the window.

Morgan screwed her eyes shut and tried to remember breathing. In. Hold. Out. She was doing it too quicky, and under her lids she saw the palm tree lunging towards them, the way his body bounced against the steering wheel on impact, how still he was. She opened them. What had Nate said? She? “‘She’ who? What are you talking about?” Morgan turned and staggered back. The figure was pulverised, bloody and draped in gore. “Do you--do you know her?” Distracted, Morgan found her iron and salt. If this thing wasn’t a ghost, it was at least ghost adjacent. That had to mean something. “Nate, get back from the window. She’s not--whoever you think she is. If this turns out to be another bullshit curse thing...” she added through her teeth. There was nothing to say after.

Nate shuffled himself backwards away from the window, clenching his eyes shut. Whoever - whatever Morgan had seen had to have been awful if it had snapped her into such a frenzy. If it was anything like Nate’s ghost from the past, he wondered how she could still make complete sentences. Then again, Morgan seemed a good deal stronger than Nate in a lot of ways. He backed himself up against his weathered couch and wrapped his arms around his knees, waiting for the next instruction. “W-what kind of curse?” He stammered through sobs. “She’s- it’s not really- please tell me it’s not really-” another round of sobs choked him off.

Morgan had to bend over to keep from looking at the broken girl in the window. Her stomach was trying to spiral its way up to her throat and having the iron and the salt didn’t really solve the problem of ‘now you have to get outside and touch it with those things.’ And Morgan knew just like she knew that she’d had it too nice, too balanced, too cozy, that if she went out to take a swing at that thing, it would turn back into her dad. Or maybe her mom. Or maybe her college roommate, freshly lacerated with glass from her fall. And she wasn’t ready for that. She couldn’t stomach this punch from the universe. Even if it meant another one would find her later, she’d handle it over this. “No,” she snapped, breath hollow in her throat, “No it’s not really her! I don’t know what it really is but it’s mean and it’s awful and if I made this happen with my stupid danger zone, I’m sorry!” She straightened up and looked around the house. Suddenly it seemed like there were too many windows, too many places for it to find her, and her Subaru was too far away for comfort. “Where’s your toolbox? You’re gonna need salt and iron and to stop looking at whatever that asshole is! Just stop, stop looking at it, it’s just being cruel!” Her voice was growing shrill as she spoke, the more she fought herself for control, the more it seemed to run away from her. She went for the kitchen and started pulling open drawers and cabinets, pulling out anything that looked close enough to what she needed that it would transmute easily and shoving it onto her pop socket, til there was a steady pile of each. The knives she left alone. Maybe Nate would be able to use it in a pinch. “I’m sorry,” she said again, arming herself with one of the extras. It made her feel safer, having a spare.

Nate peered up at Morgan with tears in his eyes. He didn’t take it personally, but her biting tone cut through him like a knife with his nerves as raw as they were. Shrinking into himself he muttered a response. “T-tools are- the shed-” Sobs continued to crash through him, along with every image of Mari’s mangled corpse from the woods so many years ago compiled with these new fresh horrors. His hands slapped to his head, fingers curling his locks into knots. Morgan flitted around him in a frenzy, ripping open drawers and pulling out random knick knacks. It was clear out of the two of them who would be useful when the apocalypse came and who would immediately turn into a blubbering mess, incapable of doing any real help. Whatever magical strength had come over him when he saved Taylor and her boat was beyond his reach now. Sucking in as much air as he could between sobs, Nate tried to pull himself together, just in time to see Morgan preparing to flee. Oh no….no no no no no. She couldn’t leave him here with- her. “W-where are you going?!”

Morgan had her jaw set and her resolve doubled down. She could take a lot from her curse. She had, in fact, already taken a lot. More than a lot of people she knew. But this was too soon, too much, and the curse magic could call her up another time to yell about it. Throw something different. Mulligan on the misery. She marched to the door, thinking about how much she needed to see, what she really needed to focus on to get out of here alive. “I just can’t do this right now Nate!” she said. “But whatever that thing is, it’s not your friend, so don’t look at it!” And before her conscience or her fear could reach up to pull her back, she was out the door, gunning for the safety of her Subaru. It fluttered comfortingly to life and in the dim, she leveled her gaze to only the barest, closest strip of the road. Behind her she heard something like buzzing, but for all she knew it was the thrum of her own brain trying to shut away what she’d seen.

#chatzy #o death #tw gore #wickedswriting

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blazerina · 6 years ago

Text

Better (MC x Ethan) Open Heart

Title: Better

Pairing: MC (Allie) x Ethan

Word Count: 1707

Summary: Dr. Allie Valentine has once again disappointed Dr. Ethan Ramsey and struggles to figure out what to do next – is it really over for her? How will she be able to prove to him she has what it takes to be a successful doctor? And what exactly is going on between them in the meantime?!

Author’s Note: Hi friends! I don’t write or post as much as I used to but I’ve been especially excited about Open Heart and Dr. Ethan Ramsey. Trying to increase the connection and chemistry between these two…hope you enjoy!!

“Time of death, 2136.” Ramsey looked at the red numbers of the digital clock in the room as his voice rang out over the chaos.

“No.” Allie muttered, continuing chest compressions on the young man lying on the table. “I’ve got this, doctor. We can still sa—“

“Valentine!” Ramsey raised his voice, making eye contact with her while others in the room held their breath.

“I called it. It’s over.”

The snap of the plastic gloves popping off Ethan’s hands echoed as he threw them down in a heap on the floor, quickly exiting the room.

Allie was frozen in place, her hands still clasped tightly on top of one another, on the chest of a now deceased patient. He was 15. He had come in only a few minutes before, complaining of shortness of breath, feeling light-headed and now here he was…dead.

As she climbed down off the table, her hands were shaking. She felt tears threatening her eyes and knew she had to leave the room as soon as possible. Taking a deep breath, she tried to smile ruefully at the nurses who began cleaning up, but she was unsuccessful in escaping the room before the tears began to fall.

She raced down the hallway looking for relief in the sight of an empty medicine closet, or the locker room. She was once again turned around and not completely aware of her surroundings. Unable to find what she was looking for, she ran out the nearest exit into the evening air. It was cold outside. As she inhaled the air froze her lungs, but she welcomed the burn.

Allie found herself on a small balcony near one of the hospital cafeterias. Metal tables and chairs littered the area, along with umbrellas to be used when the weather was warmer. Leaning on the railing, Allie tried to calm herself down.

She knew it would happen at some point but she never expected it to be so soon. What had she missed? How could she have not seen the signs that something more serious was happening with this kid? She knew she’d never forget this night, or this moment.

And then there was the issue of Ramsey.

Dr. Ramsey.

She promised him she wouldn’t let him down and here she was, only a few days into her internship year at Edenbrook, and a patient had died on her watch. This could be the end of her career in medicine, and this was not the way she wanted to go out. Closing her eyes and letting the evening breeze chill her to the bone, she steadied her breathing and told herself to keep it together.

He won’t break me. She whispered as she opened her eyes again.

While she exhaled one last time, she turned back toward the door, ready to face whatever was on the other side. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a doctor down on the street level below. The posture. The body language. The anger that could be seen in his eyes all proved she knew exactly who it was.

With his hands on his head, looking extremely displeased and frustrated, Ramsey was pacing back and forth, muttering something to himself. Allie watched him for a few minutes, trying to decide if she should go and talk to him. She wasn’t sure what she’d say; she wasn’t sure how he’d respond, but she knew she had to say something. She couldn’t let her shift end tonight without at least trying to reconcile with him. She wanted desperately to salvage her relationship with Dr. Ramsey, but she was not hopeful her night would end the way she wanted.

Giving herself an internal pep-talk for one last time, Allie was startled when she heard a loud noise and looked over the edge again to realize Ramsey had taken out his frustration on a nearby garbage can, kicking it over and yelling some expletives.

“This ought to be good.” She said aloud, as she opened the door and then walked back into the hospital confidently, with her head held high.

As the evening went on, Allie tried to keep herself focused on more easy tasks like running tests, doing bloodwork, reviewing results and checking on patients, rather than dealing with anything new. Her shift was coming to an end, and she was a bit surprised she had not seen Dr. Ramsey again since the incident earlier that night.

The mystery of when and where Ramsey would show up next was not one she was looking forward to solving. When her shift was over, she went to her locker and changed clothes quickly, hoping to escape and have some time to herself before reporting for her next shift in a short 10 hours. On her way out of the hospital, she stopped to get a soda from the snack machine area, to sip on the train ride home.

After she made her selection, she reached down to pick up her coke from the machine, when she realized it was stuck.

“Great.” Allie sighed, rolling her eyes.

Realizing she didn’t have any more change, she turned around to leave when a familiar and somewhat unpleasant voice, called out to her from the doorway of the snack room.

“You’re going to give up that easily?” Ramsey chided.

“It’s not worth it.” Allie responded, adjusting her bag, absentmindedly fiddling with the strap at her shoulder.

“Is that what you thought earlier today too?”

Biting her lip, she looked up through her lashes and made cold, hard, unwavering eye contact with him and answered sternly, “No.”

“That’s not the way I saw it.” Ramsey shrugged, walking towards her.

“Things went downhill and you panicked. I saw it in your eyes.”

Allie stuttered, “I – I have never…no one has ever died on me like that before…I didn’t…”

“There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” Ramsey stood in front of the snack machine, choosing a chocolate candy bar and retrieving it easily.

He slowly sauntered over to the drink machine and hit the side of the machine twice with his fist. The can rolled out of the open door. Ramsey picked up the can and handed it to Allie in one smooth motion.

“It’s happened to me before a time or two…” He trailed off as he opened his snack.

“You drink soda? Didn’t think you’d be the type.” Allie questioned, raising an eyebrow and looking at him sideways.

“I was referring to someone dying on me.” Ramsey responded seriously, keeping eye contact with her as he bit off the corner piece of chocolate.

Allie inhaled sharply, immediately looking down, unsure of what to say or how to act.

“I know I told you I wouldn’t let you down again and this afternoon I was sure it was just pneumonia or maybe asthma, but something else obviously happened and I missed it.

He died because I missed it.

And it sucks and I hate it but it is what it is. I cannot change it now, Dr. Ramsey, I can only learn from it and try to be better for the next time.”

She tried to push her way past him and out of the uncomfortable situation she found herself in, but he stood in the doorway and held out an arm to stop her.

Allie knew that now was not the time to be focusing on anything other than the conversation at hand, but he was close enough to her now that she could see the small flecks of gray in his beard, how tired his eyes were, but also the deep blue-gray shade they held. The chocolate in his hand had to be melting at this point as the two of them were now standing closer to each other than they’d ever been before.

Allie knew she was tired, but she questioned whether or not something was happening here. She felt something. Something new. Something different. Something softer. She questioned it, and didn’t buy into it completely.

“Allie.”

Ramsey almost whispered her name and the hair on the back of her neck stood up hearing him refer to her by her first name. Not Rookie. Not Valentine…but Allie.

“I missed it too.” His eyes searched hers and she looked up at him in awe.

She was astonished that he was admitting a mistake. She dared not move, wondering when the world would come crashing down around her.

“You weren’t alone when we lost him today. It never gets any easier and I hate to say it…” He stopped and took a deep breath, “but it will happen again.”

Unsure of what was happening in this moment and unable to control her emotions, Allie’s eyes began to sting. She steeled herself and while one tear managed to find its way down her cheek, she held the others back.

She swallowed hard and again adjusted her bag while quickly wiping away the falling tear. Allie hoped he hadn’t seen her, but he was too observant.

“Come back tomorrow ready to start over. Put it behind you as best you can.”

He was careful not to reach out to her, he seemed almost hesitant as he removed himself from the doorway of the snack room. He didn’t look at her, but continued to fiddle with the wrapper of his candy bar.

“Thank you.” Allie tried to smile as she walked through the entrance.

“Oh, and Dr. Ramsey?” She called as she looked back over her shoulder.

“By the time I’m done here, I’ll have been the best intern you’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. That’s a promise.”

Ramsey smirked and took another bite of chocolate. Laughing to himself, he told her, “I’ve had better.”

Remembering her conversation with him about his special drink at Donahue’s, Allie bit her lip and made sure he was looking at her when she responded, “No you haven’t.”

She boldly tossed her auburn hair over her shoulder and marched self-assuredly down the hall. She was proud of herself as she cracked open the soda can and took a quick drink. Allie knew he was watching her walk away and hoped she had left him waiting for, and wanting, her to come back.

#mc x ethan #mc x ethan ramsey #open heart #blazerina babbles #allie x ethan #dr. ethan ramsey #dr. valentine x dr. ramsey #mc x dr. ramsey #ethan x mc

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